Page 45 of The Infirmary for Dragon Burns and Midair Mishaps

15

VAELA

Min was untouchable.

We circled a low-lying mountain peak, losing the smaller dragon in the confusion of the mists before flying back to Ember Ridge. By the time we reached the square, the crowd had dispersed, the smashed flower stall had been swept up, and the injured had been carted away to the infirmary. Except for the smoldering remains of the kites, no one would know a dragon stand-off had happened earlier.

There was nothing more for us to do here.

I gave Min a pat, and she swept over a mixture of thatch and red clay rooftops, ruffling the colorful streamers and dragon-themed decorations that hung across doorways. When we reached the outskirts of town, she touched down in the field bordering the nesting shed. The landing was harder than I’d expected, jarring my teeth, and I almost lost my seat again.

I pressed my hand to her scales, feeling the wheeze as she inhaled. Fear thumped through me, burning more intensely than the heat from five circling dragons.

I slid down Min’s side, landing in the grass just as she collapsed onto her stomach with a rumbling groan. She hadn’t even made it back to her nest. I knelt next to her head, staring into one pearly black eye.

“Hey, girl. You all right?” I asked, stroking the ridge of smaller scales that covered her brow. My pulse thumped with uncertainty.

Min made a pathetic chirping sound. I could hear the exhaustion that rattled up her throat with each breath, and had to fight off the pressure behind my eyes.

“Rest,” I croaked, forcing a smile as I tried to get a handle on my emotions. Min needed me to be strong. “Just rest now.”

She sucked in another wheezy breath, letting her head flop over on a bed of wild snapdragon flowers. Concern raced through me as her eyelids fluttered closed. It tasted sour on the back of my tongue, and I fought off the worrisome thoughts that plagued me. How long could Min keep doing this? What if her next flight was her last?

Maybe it really was time to retire her.

But I knew if I so much as broached that with Min right now, when she was so vulnerable, she’d bare her teeth at me. I just wished I had the lake to offer her instead of a grassy mound of dirt or the lonely nesting shed. She deserved to be comfortable when she finally stopped flying. She deserved to be taken care of the same way she’d cared for this town all these years. I sat with Min for several long minutes, mulling over what to do, waiting until her breaths evened out and for the spirals of warm smoke to drift from her nostrils.

Once she was caught in the safety of sleep, I got to my feet and set off for town, making my way through the square. Snapdragons lay scattered across the cobblestones, those yellow and purple snout-shaped petals crushed between feet and the wheels of carts. I pressed on, trying not to feel hopeless about Min’s situation as I headed to the infirmary. By the time I arrived, the windows were dark, so I set off down the path to Bramble Cottage.

When I stepped onto the porch, the door swung open. I hadn’t even had a chance to knock. Eden looked up at me, her hair pulled from its knot, loose coils hanging by her temples and next to her ears. I wanted to tuck them away and cradle her cheek with my hand. My body warmed at the thought of pulling her close and holding her as I inhaled the calming concoction of lavender and honey.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “You’re not hurt?” She clamped onto my wrist, dragging me into the cottage, her hands suddenly everywhere, poking and prodding at my ribs, my shoulders, my spine.

I winced. “M’fine.”

“That didn’t sound fine.”

“Sore,” I said.

She tutted. “That’s what happens when you get flung from a dragon.”

“Could have been worse,” I reasoned. “I’ll be a little bruised, but that’s nothing. Min’s the one I’m worried about.”

Eden ceased her inspection, tilting her head to look at me in the flickering candlelight. “Is she⁠—”

“Asleep,” I said, wanting to run my thumb over the worry line that cut across her forehead. “The scuffle exhausted her. But I’ve never seen her run down after something like that.” The memory of her stumbling ached inside me.

“I’m sorry.” Eden showed me to the rocking chair, and I handed her my prosthesis.

“There’s nothing to be done now but to let her recover,” I said, rocking back and forth slowly.

“Do you think she’s getting close to…”

“Hanging up her wings?” I huffed a humorless laugh. “Yes. But I know she doesn’t want that. Not without me. She won’t trust any other dragon to fly with me.”

“And you’re not ready to retire?”

“Mmm…” How could I be? I had years of wrangling left before me. “I can’t imagine doing it without Min.”