Page 449

"Right. The vomiting."

His expression becomes lethal. "Don't."

I laugh. "Sorry."

"No, you're not."

"No." I manage to stop laughing eventually. "What happened?"

Rhyven looks toward the floor. "We were lined up near the eastern ridge. Other young Riders. Candidates. Most older."

"How much older?"

"Fourteen. Fifteen."

"And you were twelve."

"Yes."

"Why were you even there?"

"My father wanted me evaluated."

"That sounds reasonable."

"It wasn't." I wait. Rhyven's voice changes subtly when he speaks about Vyrael. Not softer exactly. More careful. "Everyone was watching the smaller dragons. Vyrael was supposed to be observing."

"Observing what?"

"Candidates."

"From where?"

"Cliff." Of course. Dramatic dragon. "He came down."

"Toward you?"

"Eventually."

"What did everyone do?"

"Moved."

"You didn't?"

Rhyven glances toward me. "I was too terrified."

I laugh once. "Excellent strategy."

"Worked."

"Did he touch you?"

"No."

"Then how did you know?"

Rhyven is quiet. "He looked at me."