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"Fendruil?" I repeat. "What's over there?"
The playful twinkle in her eyes has me itching to see what secrets lay behind the mountain. "I don't want to spoil the surprise."
I'm reluctant to trust a giant bird to fly me into the mountains, but the excitement of being airborne when most only dream of such a feeling has me ready to toss my inhibitions to the wind. Atlas slips his hand in mine and squeezes reassuringly. This must be just as frightening and exciting for him as it is for me, especially since he's always wanted to ride dragons. Maybe this is just a taste of that childhood dream coming to fruition.
I watch Sylvane mount the Aviatas and it's similar to getting into the saddle of a horse. I follow suit, ignoring the bird's giant head swiveling to look at me. Once I'm seated in the saddle, I grab ahold of the reigns with a white-knuckle grip and prepare to launch. Honestly, nothing could have prepared me for it. The bird claws toward the end of the landing and lurches into the sky. I bite my lip, refusing to scream in fright, and jerk back when the Aviatas balances out and soars over the city toward the mountain. I dare a glance down, even though I probably shouldn't, but I'm amazed to see how small everything looks from up here. The streets Atlas and I were just weaving in and out of are busier now, but the only Elves who pay us any mind are the children pointing at us with wide, wondrous grins.
The bird I'm riding flaps its wings and propels us higher. I keep my eyes pinned on the snow-capped mountains in front of me, narrowing my gaze to see if I spot where we might be going. It's not until we fly a few more minutes that I start to make out a plateau in the rocky cliffside. Our birds speed toward it and come to a perched landing for us to dismount where four Frost Elf soldiers guard an enormous iron gate built into the mountainside.
Sylvane motions for us to follow her and as soon as the guards see her, they crank the door open for us to breeze through. Beyond the gate is a long tunnel carved into the mountain with torches to light our way. It's so cold in this passageway that I shiver when the wind whistles throughs. Once the gate closes behind us, I see a white glow at the end of the pass, which keeps my claustrophobia at bay. Silently, the three of us trek down the hallway until we make it to the end. My eyes have to readjust to the light but once my sight is restored, I gasp, and I'm left with tears pricking the backs of my eyes.
The piercing roar of a white scaled dragon is what tips me over the edge, and then there's no stopping the tears that slip down my cheeks. "Dragons," I whisper in awe.
My mother turns to me and smiles, slowly lifting her hand to wipe my tears away. Her touch is gentle, albeit tentative, but once she thumbs my cheek she confirms, "Dragons."
Thirty-Two
Shaye
By my quick count, there are five dragons zipping through the center of the mountain; flying through an obstacle course, breathing frost against designated targets, and two of them have riders using their powers simultaneously.
"What is this place?" I look straight up to see the tip of the mountain is open and realize the dragons choose to stay here, even though they're free to fly off.
"This is Fendruil," Sylvane says with pride. "It's here we have protected our dragon companions from the outside world. After the Great War, most dragons from each of the Six Kingdoms fell. The ones that remained either survived the battle or were too young to fight in the first place."
My gaze drifts from the dragons in the sky to the jagged rocks below. If someone falls, there's nothing to save them from a gruesome death. I shake the horrible thought free and refocus on the dragons. They're enormous, even from this distance. Their iridescent white scales glisten in the sunlight and if they were placed in front of a snowy backdrop, they'd be hard to spot. Four legs, sharp claws, and two expansive wings on their backs strengthen my desire to get a closer look, but I won't press my luck.
"Come." Her voice jars me.
I stare in the direction she's pointing and tucked along the inner mountainside there's a path wide enough for a carriage to fit down and thankfully, it's roped off, so no one falls over the edge. At the end of the pathway that wraps around in a half-moon shape, there's a colossal sized building built into the cliff. There are a few more smaller structures on the plateau including a tower, barracks, and a few buildings to house supplies.
Atlas has been quiet since we mounted the Aviatas to fly here, so I dare a quick glance up at him as we follow Sylvane down the pathway. His face is lifted upward, completely mesmerized by the dragons soaring above. This sight is overwhelming in the best possible way. I always hoped dragons were real from the fairytales I read growing up, but for Atlas, this must be a wildly different experience. As a child he was obsessed with dragons, gleaning every scrap of knowledge available to understand these glorious beasts. Living with the notion that he would probably never see one, since the Fire Breathers either fell in battle or disappeared entirely, must have been devastating. Watching him tear up a bit at the view of Frost Dragons makes my heart ache. I slip my hand in his like he does when I appear to need reassurance, and I squeeze, drawing his gaze.
Without needing to speak a word to one another, I understand. This is a once in a lifetime sight and we intend to enjoy every second of it.
A bell tolls, echoing through the mountain, and signaling the dragons to return to a gargantuan building with ten large openings that I'm now realizing are wide enough for the dragons to enter. Each one flies to their own entrance and perches inside, stretching out and making themselves comfortable.
"It's feeding time," Sylvane explains.
It takes us about fifteen minutes to make our way down to the white structures that match the architecture of Elowen down below. The white wooden doors are propped open so we can walk right inside. I almost ask why there aren't any soldiers guarding this area, but I quickly swallow that foolish question. Dragons don't need guarding. Only an idiot with a death-wish would attempt to creep in here. I stare straight up once we're underneath the double doors and gawk at the fifty-foot-tall ceilings.
We pass an equipment room and riders' lounge before entering what I can only equate as a stable for dragons. On our left are ten pens with half-walls between each one, giving each dragon their privacy. The exit behind them is wide-open, cementing in my mind that these mighty creatures are truly free to leave whenever they want, but they choose to stay with their rider companions. It's humbling to think that these powerful dragons feel a sense of loyalty to the Frost Elves.
"This is Drexel." Sylvane begins our dragon tour with the first pen on our left. The gate between us and Drexel comes up to my chest. "He is the oldest dragon here and the others respect him as their leader. He also happens to be the Frost King's dragon and has been his companion since birth."
Drexel's blue eyes skim over Sylvane and Atlas before latching onto me. There's innocent curiosity in his gaze, but I sense danger, too. Then I remember learning in one of my lessons with Professor Riggs that looking a dragon in their eye can be misconstrued as challenging their dominance. I quickly avert my gaze and hold my hands up in surrender, hoping he won't turn me into a block of ice.
Sylvane furrows her brow and clears her throat, garnering my attention. "What are you doing?"
"I looked him in the eye, and I hope I didn't offend him."
She throws her head back and laughs, the sweet sound echoes through the building. "Oh, don't worry about that. That might have been the case with Fire Breathers, because they were notorious for having an attitude problem, but Frost Dragons are different. They crave eye contact and interaction. They're basically giant dogs."
"With razor sharp fangs," I point out, standing straight.
"Even dogs can kill, Aurelia – I mean, Shaye." Her face reddens, but I move to the next pen hoping to squash her embarrassment. I know my birth name is Aurelia Basilius-Sol, but I'm not quite sure if it suits me. For now, I'll remain Shaye, because it's what I'm comfortable with.
"And this one?" I slip in front of the second dragon who looks exactly like Drexel but significantly smaller.
