Page 90 of Feralheart

The clerk didn’t look up when I stood across from him. “Name.”

“I can read and write.”

His pen paused. “Congratulations. Name?”

“Eradin Carver.”

“Mount’s name.”

My throat closed.

Lykor had saved me by shielding my body with his when the flames came. His breathing had rattled in the sand after.

Flying him would finish breaking what the fire maze had started.

“Selira,” I said.

His pen stopped moving. “That’s not a registered mount.”

“It will be.”

“You can’t—” His eyes narrowed. “You must ride a registered dragon.”

I leaned forward, my palms flat on his desk, the trial mark blazing black between us. “Why?”

His frown deepened. “Err⁠—”

“If the officials don’t like it, they can arrest me after I win.”

Silence dropped through the room.

“Your funeral.” He tapped his pen twice before he wrote it down. “Saddle specifications. Standard or custom?”

“Custom.”

I didn’t have a saddle at all. But I’d watched him stamp Lyndie’s form without question. This paperwork was theater.

“Dragon’s current holding location?”

“Eastern forest…aerie.”

His pen scratched across the parchment, and the twitch of his fingers said he knew I was lying. But he was writing it down anyway because the court wanted something on each line and they didn’t mind if commons failed spectacularly.

Fine. I’d give them a spectacle.

“If your dragon isn’t in the arena when the race starts, you forfeit. Automatic disqualification. One silver due. We’ll take it from your pocket or your flesh. Doesn’t matter to us.”

“Understood.”

The clerk finally looked up at me. I stared back.

He gestured to the line on the bottom. “Sign.”

The pen felt heavy, but the ink dried black and permanent. And when he stamped it with the seal, magic sank into the parchment until it glowed. A duplicate appeared beside the original. He slid it across the desk, and I stared down at it.

Mount: Selira

“It’s enchanted,” he said, probably assuming I was stunned by the duplication, not second-guessing my daring. “It can’t be altered, and it can’t be appealed. If you show up without this dragon, you’re done. As good as dead.”