Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
“Fates,” Elisaf whispers as we watch their wings spread wide. “They are of her kind.”
Caindra launches herself upward toward them, answering their calls with one of her own.
I gape as the beasts soar high above and shouts of panic erupt in the camp. They’re identical to Caindra, save for the color of their scales—one a burnt orange, the other a vibrant chartreuse.
More dragons.
“She’s not attacking them!” Jarek yells over the commotion as we struggle to steady our bucking horses.
In fact, their sky dance of spiraling dives and spins appears friendly, their wings grazing each other’s with each pass.
It dawns on me. “She’s been waiting for them.” Caindra’s astute guard from her perch today wasn’t just to ward off enemies. She was anticipating her kind’s arrival, either with expectation or hope.
In a triangular formation, with Caindra in the lead, the three dragons sail toward us.
“Stand down!” Radomir’s voice booms as he hollers at soldiers armed with arrows and swords to back away.
The ground trembles as they land, Caindra flanked by the others.
“Fates.” Kienen’s sword dangles in his grip, useless. “The orange one is even larger than her. I didn’t think that possible.”
Larger and fiercer looking, its jade-green eyes cold as they size us up. A deep gouge through its scales hints at a battle fought long ago. What could do that to a dragon?
The chartreuse one on Caindra’s right side is much smaller, its yellow eyes narrowed as it drags its claws through dirt.
“Romeria,” Jarek warns through gritted teeth as I slide off my horse and move forward.
“Everyone, stay back.”
“As if.” With a curse, Jarek joins me on foot. “You are determined to see me eaten by one of these things.”
“Put your sword away,” I warn him, keeping my gaze ahead. “It might agitate them.”
After a moment, he complies, wincing with the simple movement.
Caindra tips her head back with a roar before swinging it to the side to rub snouts with the orange one.
“I think it’s okay,” I whisper, advancing toward her.
“And if you are wrong?”
“Then neither of us will know any better because we’ll both be dead.”
I feel his glare at my cheek, but I keep my eyes on Caindra and her companions, my heart pounding as we get closer, until we’re standing within their shadows.
The chartreuse dragon’s snout twitches as it scents us, and it emits a growl.
Jarek is in front of me in a split second, his hand gripping his pommel.
“A lot of good that’ll do.” I move around his back but stay there. Maybe that is a warning not to come any closer. “Caindra?”
Her lips unfurl to show fangs. She swings her mammoth head toward the smaller dragon and issues a warning snarl in response.
Long beats pass and then the orange and green dragons sink forward and dip their heads toward the ground.
Jarek shakes his head and whispers more to himself, “That is as good a bow as you’ll get from such a beast.”
Behind us, horse hooves pound with approaching riders. “Romeria!” Zander shouts, charging toward me, Abarrane on his heels.
The orange beast’s head swings in that direction and a low rumble vibrates inside my chest with its growl.
I rush forward, my hands in the air. “He’s with me! He’s with me!” Can it understand me as Caindra does?
Zander leaps off his horse and runs toward me, freezing when I hold up my palm to stall him.
Another few beats pass, and the orange dragon dismisses him, returning its attention to Caindra.
Slowly, Zander approaches my side.
“How is Lord Telor?” I ask.
“I … he …” Zander stumbles over his words, caught off guard by the question. “Still breathing. The caster claims there are traces of a powerful caster’s affinities within him. Yours, I assume, from when you healed him. She believes that is what has kept him alive this long.” His wide-eyed gaze drifts over the beasts in front of us. “I heard the commotion and rushed here. There are three of them now.”
“I know. Isn’t it amazing?”
Zander glares with accusation at Jarek. “And your Legion commander allowed you this close to them without a shred of your affinities intact?”
“There he goes again with that word allowed,” Jarek mutters.
I ignore their bickering. “I think they know each other.” Maybe more than know.
“That is a welcome thing. I would not want that orange one as her enemy.”
We watch as Caindra and the others take turns bumping each other with their snouts, like long-lost friends, reunited.
“You know what this means, right?” I can’t help my broad smile. “We have three dragons on our side now.”
“We have three dragons,” Zander echoes. He checks the sun in the sky. “And the timing for their arrival could not be better. We have much to do.”
“I need to go to Mordain.” I give him a rushed version of what we just learned from Solange and Agatha, who hang back with the others.