Page 30 of The Infirmary for Dragon Burns and Midair Mishaps

“They’re not going to toss you in a jail cell just for mentioning the word magic.” Nisse laughed. “Be serious.”

“I am being serious,” Matty said, lowering his voice. “There are an awful lot of them here.”

My gaze flitted over the group. He was right. The kingsguard wouldn’t take kindly to mentions of magic, however innocent they might be. Cai’amar was a land without magic. We had dragons, we tamed beasts, and we believed that everything we needed was born of the land—food, water, medicine. But, as it was told, the neighboring lands could cure illnesses with a whisper and a flick of their wrists or by using spells crafted into bottles. There was no limit to what they could accomplish. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little curious to see some of their healing spells in action. To meet people who bled healing magic from their fingertips. But those wishes were only fantasies because talk like that was enough to get you hauled in front of the king for treason.

The royal family despised magic, which was understandable. Our people had no sense of it. No control over it. No real way to fight it. And that made magic feel dangerous. Meanwhile, the neighboring lands stole dragon scales and teeth and horns and claws to craft into enchantments. Eggs were the most coveted of all, and there were always a number of kingsguard stationed along the borders to prevent the illegal smuggling of dragon properties. But none of that mattered right now because this group of kingsguard weren’t here because of magic. They were here to catch a dragon.

“You think we’ll get to see the Wretch if they catch it?” Nisse asked.

“You haven’t even seen it before?” I said, confused. Nisse shook her head, as did Seraphine.

“I got a glimpse of its tail once,” Matty piped up.

I frowned. A dragon that big making the migration and yet no one had seen it before? That didn’t make any sense.

“It flies too high to be easily spotted,” Vaela said. “Using the clouds as cover. Some people who track the migration say it flies at night.”

“How do they plan to catch something they can’t even see?” I said, looking back at that cart full of netting.

Vaela’s face pinched in concern. “Their best bet would be to track it and catch it when it lands to rest. That way, the beast is too tired to put up a fight.”

Matty nodded in agreement. “With that kind of firepower, I bet the thing could raze an entire forest in one go.”

My stomach roiled at the thought, my mind filled with nothing but flames. Horrible, red, inextinguishable flames. “Is that why it’s called the Wretch?” I asked, voice small. For a beat, I thought I might be sick. “Why would anyone want to catch such a dragon?”

“Why indeed,” Vaela said, her narrowed gaze following a patrol of passing kingsguard.

Now that I was imagining it, the thought of humans trying to ground such a beast was horrifying. I imagined its thunderous roar and the angry wall of flame that would swirl at the back of its mouth. I imagined a dragon so big I could look straight down its throat, past rows of sword-like teeth, and see the organ where dragon fire was born.

I thought of the vortex that had swallowed my father and of the armor that had smoldered in the oven in Bramble Cottage. I thought of the kingsguard and their pretty painted armor. How impractical metal and leather were when hunting a dragon of this presumed enormity.

How useless.

How many of them would be hurt in pursuit of the beast?

And why?

The questions ricocheted around my head to the point of pain. I lifted my hand, pressing my fingers to my temple.

“Eden?” Vaela said, her words getting lost among my own thoughts. I envisioned nothing but burns, and my stomach ached with something sharp and acidic.

I didn’t want to hear anymore. “I have to go,” I said, shoving past Matty and Nisse.

“Eden, are you okay?” Seraphine called after me.

Her voice rang clear, but I didn’t stop to answer. I didn’t stop until I was back in Bramble Cottage and the muted whispers of the Wretch and its all-consuming fire were far behind me.

11

VAELA

“Little sister! You’ve grown!”

A hand reached through the crowd, clamping down firmly on my shoulder. The voice warmed me to my core as Trystan stepped through the throng of people. His smile was always the first thing you saw across a room—effortless, buoyant, his teeth glimmering like pearls. It was the kind of smile that forced you to smile in return, just from the sheer strength of it. He looked me up and down as we came face to face.

“I think we both know I stopped growing years ago,” I said, laughing as I let myself be swallowed by a bear hug.

“You’re right,” Trystan said, pulling back. My eyes danced across his face. The tops of his cheeks and his nose were reddened, likely from days riding in the sun, sweating under the giant helm of the kingsguard. “In fact, I think you’re shrinking. Should I be concerned?”