Page 30

Blah blah blah. Blankets and tents are boring.

I slide off my chair and tiptoe closer to where Lark is talking with Councilor Bennett, who usually looks like he just ate something sour. “The Northern Passage will be guarded by six of our strongest air wielders. We’ve stationed lookouts at various intervals.”

My flame friend drifts toward them, just as curious.

“And the contingency plans if we’re separated?” Lark’s voice is quieter than the others’, but I can still hear her just fine.

“Rendezvous at the Eastern Ridge.” The councilor studies a big scroll on the table, tracing the words with his finger. “I’ve briefed every guard personally.”

“Excellent.” Lark strides over to Sterling and whispers in his ear. He grins before whispering something back that turns her cheeks red.

I love looking at Lark. Her wings are tucked away now, but I’ve seen them when they’re out, and they’re so pretty. The dark brown feathers have burgundy streaks and little bits of gold.

She only got her wings in the last year. I really hope I don’t have to wait that long for mine.

She notices me staring and smiles. “Hey there, Rose.”

I feel like I just swallowed sunshine. “Hi.”

Lady Leesa calls out from across the room and holds up cloaks. “Lark, do you think the blue or the green will be more appropriate for the welcome ceremony?”

The green cape is so dark it’s almost black and has little shiny pieces sewn all over it. The blue one has fuzzy bits around the collar that would probably tickle your chin.

Queen Lark points at the green one. “The blue doesn’t look very warm.”

Leesa nods and folds the green cape carefully.

My eyes wander the room for something to do until I spot my uncle by a table of bows and arrows. He pulls each bowstring until it twangs and then checks every arrow.

I creep over and watch him work. “Can I help?”

His brow crinkles. “These aren’t toys, Rosie.”

“I know that.” I roll my eyes. “I’m not a baby.”

Uncle Agnar’s mouth twitches like he wants to smile. “Hand me that polish, then.”

I pass him the little jar, and he dips a cloth inside before rubbing it over a curved piece of metal on one of the bows. The sharp odor wrinkles my nose. “Will you have to shoot anyone?”

“I hope not. This is a diplomatic mission, which means we’re trying to make friends. But we always prepare for trouble, just in case.”

I nod like I understand, but I don’t.

Whenever I try to make new friends, I don’t take a bow and arrows just in case I have to shoot them.

Adults are weird sometimes.

I squeal at the sound of dragon wings flapping outside the window. More dragons are landing in the courtyard, their riders jumping off and leading them to others.

“Where’s Dame?” Even though Lark is one of the few people she lets close to her, Dame is my favorite dragon. She’s a reddish-brown color, sort of like the glossy flower vase my mama bought at the market.

“Probably in her cave.” Knox is so tall I have to tilt my head way back to see his face. “Her eggs are about to hatch.”

“Baby dragons!” I bounce on my toes. “Can I see them when they do?”

Knox ruffles my hair. “Perhaps. If Dame allows it.”

I gather all my courage and take a deep breath. “I want to come with you to Tír Ríoga.”