Threshing Day (The Empyrean, #3.5) — Chapter no 9

633 AU Feirge—Green Daggertail (Female) Descended from the Uaineloidsig Line

Estimated Age: 87 Recorded Riders: 3

—THE COMPENDIUM OF DRAGONKIND, LAST UPDATED BY COLONEL VALIN KAORI

RHIANNON

“Come find me.”

First-years scatter into the forest around me, disappearing behind trees until I’m trekking southward entirely on my own. It’s hard to believe Threshing is finally here, but I’m more than prepared. I’m jubilant, incapable of keeping a smile off my face or containing the excitement that

has me practically vibrating with anticipation. Wish I could say the same for

my friends.

Most of them are a mess.

Both Tara and Trina seemed all right, but Ridoc hurled his breakfast before we split up, Violet was even paler than usual, and Sawyer was so deep in his own head that I’m worried he might get passed over again. I wish dragons chose their riders in groups instead of individually so we could have all stayed together. If Kaori has been consistent with one message, it’s that we’re on our own out here.

My heart beats at the wing speed of a hummingbird as I head into the woods with a light step, willing my pulse to slow so I can think clearly. It does me no good to be excited if I stumble onto a cantankerous red and get myself turned into a bonfire. I did not cross the parapet in the rain with Violet’s borrowed boot just to become a scorch mark.

“Come find me.” The voice is feminine and clear as a bell, though it falls short of being called sweet. Kaori told us to listen to the call if we heard it, and though I hadn’t told any of my friends, I instantly knew what he was talking about.

I woke this morning with a flash of memory of the jade-green daggertail I’d seen at Presentation, that single command in my head, and a deeply rooted ache radiating from the center of my chest that felt as though someone had snatched a piece of my lungs while I slept. Even now, it stings slightly with every breath, like those early winter mornings when I’d ventured outside of our family’s house for firewood so my twin could sleep a little longer.

My heart twinges. Raegan should be having her first baby around winter solstice, and I can’t even receive a letter to hear how she’s doing until I complete my first year. Gods, I’d give anything to bring her here for even just a few minutes so she could share this exhilaration that has my nervous system crackling. She’d love it! I’d get her out before a dragon could get anywhere close to her, of course. I’d rather die than risk any harm to my

sister.

“Come find me.”

“I’m trying,” I whisper to the breeze.

Someone screams from my left, and my stomach pitches. I can’t see much through the bright autumn leaves covering the massive trees, but that plume of smoke peeking between the branches can’t be good.

It’s no one you know. Stay focused.

Or better yet, maybe it’s Jack Barlowe. That asshole deserves to be torched at first sight for the way he bullies everyone around him, especially Violet. But dragons seem to find that sort of callousness attractive, so he’s probably surrounded by a bevy of interested snouts. Gods help us if he becomes the most powerful of our year.

Something tugs at my chest, pulling me north, and I follow, turning my back on the smoke and heading into the denser grouping of trees. The shade engulfs me, bringing a chill. It’s illogical to think a dragon could fit between these trees, but listening to Kaori has gotten me this far, so I follow the sensation and hope it’s the jade-green daggertail pulling me closer.

A green would be outstanding. They have a more stable connection to magic, and I appreciate how rational they’re known to be. Given the moodiness of everyone around me, I could definitely use someone in my life who’s emotionally stable. But I don’t want just any green. I want the one who chose not to turn Violet into a pile of cinders during Presentation because it recognized the scales in the armor she wears as belonging to her sister’s dragon.

I’ll spend the rest of my life thanking that dragon for not torching my best friend.

Sulfur scents the breeze, and my steps slow as I approach a small stream, apprehension seizing control of my heart for the first time today. I rein in the unease quickly, utterly rejecting the possibility that this might not

be the best day of my life.

I’m here to find her.

The sun caresses my face as I walk out of the thicket, but any notion of comfort disappears with the muffled cry coming from the center of the clearing, where two riders are crouched. Scratch that. One of them is lying down while the other hovers.

“Oh, shit.” My feet falter at the edge of the open area that isn’t quite big enough to be called a meadow. There’s no visible scorch mark, but the trees on the left side are on fire. No wonder I smelled sulfur.

The crouching rider whips in my direction as she jolts to her feet, brandishing a hatchet and an expression more menacing than any dragon I’ve encountered—with the exception of that Blue Daggertail Riorson is

bonded to.

Sgaeyl is the stuff of nightmares.

“I’m not a threat.” I throw my hands back at chest level, exposing my palms but keeping my weapons within reach.

The brunette with two silver stars along her collarbone lifts a pierced eyebrow. “I wouldn’t say that too loudly around here, Matthias. The Orange Daggertail who just melted your year-mate’s face might come back.”

Melted?

My heart attempts to vault out of my throat, and I rush forward with complete disregard for the hatchet and the rebellion relic that winds around the second-year’s left arm. Dunne, don’t let it be any of my squadmates— The sight I find breaks my heart all the same.

A girl from Tara’s squad lies on the ground, her eyes squeezed shut as she writhes in pain, and as much as I loathe the word “melted” when it comes to someone’s face, in this instance, it’s warranted. The entire right side of her face is red and blistered, and a strip of skin from her uniform collar to her scalp is just that…melted.

“Visia?” I drop to my knees beside her and grab ahold of her hand.

She squeezes back hard enough that her nails draw blood.

I hiss in pain, and Visia falls back, completely limp.

“Probably best she not be conscious for a bit,” the second-year says, returning to a crouch as she places her hatchet into the holster at her belt.

Her patches trigger my memory. Her name is Eya, and she’s in first squad in my section. “That has to hurt like a bitch.”

“What do I do?” I ask, grasping onto Visia’s hand even though she’s unconscious.

“You continue with Threshing.” Eya looks over Visia with a sigh.

“Fuck that. I can’t just leave her here.” My head draws back. I’m nauseous just thinking about it.

“Keep that attitude.” A wry smile twists Eya’s mouth. “It will make you a front-runner for leadership next year.”

“I’m concerned about Visia surviving this year.”

“That’s not up to you.”

“This whole forest could catch fire.” I glance up at the smoking branches.

Eya holds out a hand and looks toward the trees. Her arm rises, and water flows upward from the stream, dousing the trees with a hissing sound.

“That’s impressive,” I admit as the stream falls back into place with a flick of Eya’s hand.

“Your argument is null and void. Now get—”

A low growl sounds from the right, and my stomach somersaults.

“Oh, shit,” I whisper as the growling orange pokes its head through the trees, baring its teeth. My heart starts to pound, but I keep enough of my wits to lower my eyes immediately. “I’m guessing that’s the one who melted Visia’s face?”

“Yep,” Eya responds, completely unbothered.

I stand slowly, wiping my bloody palm on my pants and keeping my gaze locked on the grass in front of the orange’s lowered snout. Shit, the thing is in firing position and there’s maybe twenty feet between us.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Eya rises behind me.

“She’s vulnerable.” My breath becomes choppy and the tugging sensation in my chest tries to pull me to the left, but I hold my ground. I’ll never forgive myself if that dragon kills Visia because I’m afraid to stand up for her.

“I’m right next to her, you naive first-year,” Eya lectures from behind me.

“And? Second- and third-years can only observe, not interfere,” I argue as the orange blows my braids back with a foul-smelling breath of steam.

“Ugh,” Eya gags, clearly getting a whiff of what I did. “Observing close up is enough of a deterrent right now. I’m bonded. If that orange screws with me, it will have my dragon to deal with. What does Kaori tell you about powerful dragons?”

“The more powerful the dragon, the more powerful the rider’s signet,” I reply as the orange stalks forward a single step, lifting its head slightly.

“Not sure now is the right time for a lesson.”

The grass in front of the orange withers with its next breath.

“It’s always the right time for a lesson around here,” she counters. “It’s not just the signet. The more powerful the dragon, the less other dragons are willing to fuck with its rider once the bond solidifies,” she finishes. “I’m perfectly safe. You, however, are not.”

My lips part. I never thought of it that way, but it makes complete sense.

The orange’s head surges forward at the same moment that the trees to the left of us move. Before I can so much as blink, the dozen razor-sharp tips of a daggertail rest against the orange’s exposed throat.

A jade-green daggertail.

My gaze flies along the daggertail’s spine as the dragon maneuvers

backward into the little clearing, holding its tail in place as it nimbly fills the space between the orange and us. It snarls in the orange’s direction before swinging its head toward us.

With a single glimpse into her golden eyes, I forget to look away.

My heart stammers a staccato beat.

She’s the call in my chest, the voice in my head. I’m as sure of it as I am my own name.

“Well, damn it,” Eya mutters quietly as the orange retreats into the trees.

“Lower your eyes, and remember not to—”

“Back down,” I finish for her, taking a step toward the green. “I know. I studied. Don’t worry. She’s mine.”

“You’d better be sure about that,” Eya replies. “A green will absolutely

know.”

“You’re mine,” the green corrects me.

“Isn’t that what I said?” I take another step, putting me within an arm’s reach of the green’s snout.

“It is not the same.” Her nostrils expand with her next inhale, and then she draws her head back slightly, peering down at me. “You coagulate quickly, Rhiannon. What an excellent sign. I am Feirge.”

“Feirge,” I whisper, and that missing piece of my lungs clicks back into place.

“You would have known that had you sought the reference guide upon waking.” It’s a blatant admonishment.

My mouth opens, then shuts. She’s called me out in the way that only Raegan does—blunt with no apology. “I meant to, but I needed to make sure my squadmates ate, since our squad leader is running around out here.”

“Really? I had no idea. I’ve never seen any of your memories.” She tilts her head.

Well, that can’t be right. Dragons are privy to every memory the second they bond us.

“I’ve been calling for you since the dragon-watcher brought your aspirants to the forest. Your sense of direction leaves me awestruck.” Her talons strike the grass one at a time like a schoolteacher drumming her

fingertips to hide her exasperation.

A smile curves my lips. “Thank you.”

She blinks.

“Oh.” My eyebrows rise, and my smile vanishes as quickly as it formed.

I had it right—she’s exasperated. “You’re being sarcastic.” Of course she’s seen my memories and knows what I was doing this morning. And she definitely isn’t impressed with how long it has taken me to find her.

“How quickly you catch on.”

“I didn’t know dragons could be sarcastic,” I mutter, staring up at her as she lifts her head, clearing a path to her foreleg should I choose to mount.

“Hopefully you’ll be able to tell the difference when she isn’t,” Eya comments from behind me. “You’d better get going before she changes her

mind.”

Feirge resumes clacking her talons.

“Right.” I take a step, then hesitate and glance back over my shoulder.

“What about Visia?”

Eya looks at me as though I’ve sprouted another head. “What about her?

If she wakes before nightfall, it’s up to her if she wants to continue, and if she doesn’t, she’ll be set back to next year in hopes a squad leader is willing to take her.”

“Willing to take her?” My eyes widen. “You mean Aetos had to agree to take Sawyer?” Eya nods, and my mind races over my squadmates. Tynan’s a dick, but the rest of us are solid. I choose to go with the odds. “When Visia wakes, tell her second squad understands the grit it takes to repeat, and she will be welcomed by whomever is designated to be our squad leader.”

A smile slowly softens Eya’s face. “I have a feeling that will be you.”

My heart beats double-time as I rip my gaze from Eya’s and turn back toward Feirge. A flicker of hope ignites in my chest, swiftly fanning into flames of determination as I look into her eyes. Squad leader. That’s a hefty goal, and I’d have to be worthy— “You approached without hesitation instead of cowering when your friend with Teine’s scales was in danger during your Presentation. If you were not worthy, you’d be char by now.” Feirge huffs a deep breath that feels like a giant dragon sigh. “Should you doubt it, you have no place on my back.” There’s zero sarcasm in her tone, and her talons still.

This is as serious as it gets.

“I’ll trust your judgment.” I study the distance to her foreleg and let the swelling anticipation I’ve felt since deciding to volunteer for the Riders Quadrant take over in the best possible way, giving in to the full thrill of the moment.

“Before or after I expire from waiting for you?”

I can’t help the laugh that bursts through my lips.

“Oh, you’re dramatic, too. Got it. Let’s do this.” I don’t waste another second, pushing off the ground and breaking into a dead run toward her foreleg. My boots eat up the distance quickly, and I use the curve of the top of her claw just like the ramp in the Gauntlet.

Unlike the Gauntlet, halfway up her leg, I realize I don’t have a prayer of reaching the top. Her leg is huge.

It feels like time slows as my momentum reaches its zenith, and somehow, I know that if I fail this attempt, Feirge won’t give me a second.

Instead of watching Violet flail from the top of the Gauntlet, I’m suddenly the one who’s about to struggle.

Violet. I need to take a page out of her book.

My weight begins to shift, and instead of thrusting a dagger into the wooden ramp like Violet did, I jab my hand into the small opening between Feirge’s scales and use the leverage to haul myself up. It’s harder than I expected, and I love every second.

I don’t bother to pause to soak in the joy when I reach her shoulder. I head straight for the smooth dip of scales that makes up her seat and take my place. My hands grip the substantial ridges of her pommel, and I lock the toes of my boots into the gaps between her scales. There’s a clicking sensation behind my ribs, like the final piece of a puzzle finding its home, and I relish the feeling. My grin threatens to split my face clean open.

Who wouldn’t want to ride a dragon? That’s what I said to Violet before we stepped onto the parapet, and I still mean every word of it. This is the pinnacle of my life. Now I just have to hold on.

“Don’t worry. The flight is the easy part.” She jumps skyward, launching with surprising ease for such a small space and heaving us upward with heavy beats of her wings.

By the first vertical dive, I fully comprehend the depth of her sarcasm while I search for my stomach.

I only vomit once before we land on the flight field.

So worth it.

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