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“Think about it, Florence. We’ll discuss it again next class. Regardless of what you decide, I think you have a very bright future ahead of you as one of Sangratha’s foremost scholars in alchemical research.”

“I’ve enjoyed your class immensely, Professor Allenvale,” I blurted out. “In fact, it’s made me decide to drop the strategist path and focus on the healing arts next year.”

She smiled warmly. “I’m so glad to hear that. You certainly have an aptitude for them. Now, remind me of the topic you decided on for your final term paper?”

“The properties of emberfern and mirthleaf in relation to one another. They’re truly fascinating.”

“I’m sure they are. Well, you’d need to have your project wrapped up in the next three weeks. We’d have to submit your thesis as part of your scholarship application. Do you think you can work more quickly than the other students?”

I bobbed my head quickly, ignoring Nyxaris’s low groan of disapproval. “Absolutely.”

“Excellent. Well, I look forward to reading about your discoveries.” Professor Allenvale walked away to another table.

You’d really do that for me? I said quietly, after she’d gone.

Do what? Insist upon you being able to fulfill your ambitions? the dragon rumbled. You are my rider, fireheart. Wherever you wish to fly, I will clear the skies.

A warm feeling spread in the pit of my stomach. I tried to focus on my notemaking. The rest of the class went by in a blur as I jotted down observations and conducted small experiments combining varying ratios of emberfern and mirthleaf. Emberfern was unstable, yes, but it wasn’t unusable. If I could harness the best properties of the plant, I knew I’d be able to make a minor but very useful mixture that could be used as a sunsickness tonic. In the village I’d grown up in, I recalled how blightborn laborers often grew sick after working long shifts in the fields under the baking hot sun. This could be a cure for that—a tincture that could be made freely in any village stillroom, from very easy-to-grow ingredients.

When Professor Allenvale dismissed us, she pressed my graded essay into my hands; I’d received an Excellent. What was more, the mark was perfect with no deductions. I floated out onto the sunny hillside, beaming with pride.

Nyxaris waited at the bottom of the hill, near the edge of the cliff. Finally, he grumbled. Mount. But I sensed his pride, feeling his quiet approval.

I quickly climbed up and swung into position between his shoulders. As we leaped into the skies, I couldn’t help it. I screamed.

Will you ever cease doing that? Nyxaris complained.

I’m so sorry, I said lamely. I never intend to do it. It just … happens. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to this feeling. One minute I’m safe on land, and the next, well, we’re up here.

Below us Bloodwing was shrinking away, already the size of a child’s dollhouse. Cold air knifed past, yet sitting on Nyxaris, his scales radiated a furnacelike heat that I could feel from head to toe.

Adjust your seat, he instructed. Knees tighter. Anticipate the next pitch. You must work on this, or those delicate thighs of yours will be aching.

His voice was matter-of-fact, yet I blushed at his mention of my aching thighs. Quickly, I did as he said, squeezing my thighs tighter, trying to ignore how the heat of his scales bled straight through the fabric of the split skirt I was wearing, warming my skin. Better? I asked dubiously.

Good. Now, thrallguard, he said gruffly. Walls up.

I was caught off guard. Nevertheless, I quickly threw up the walls I’d been practicing, picturing my mind as a garden, surrounded by thick hanging vines of mirthleaf.

Plants, Nyxaris snorted. You ward me off with plants. His mind stroked over mine like thorns upon silk, and I shivered despite his heat.

Plants can be very dangerous in the right hands, I said with dignity. Even our new headmistress knows this. Otherwise, why would she be forcing us to sign in to the greenhouse?

Nyxaris snorted, mentally clawing against my barricades. I twined my vines around cores of emberfern, trying to push him out. When he finally allowed me to take a break between drills, I began to broach a question that had been on my mind for a while.

Dragons are excellent at both thrallweave and thrallguard, I said carefully.

We are masters of both, Nyxaris agreed.

No one can penetrate a dragon’s mind, I continued. So why did dragons need riders in the first place? When you can already do everything?

Why does the most powerful animal in existence require a weaker one?

Well, yes, I said, flushing. I knew I was weak, far weaker than my dragon.

His wings beat steadily, once, twice, three times, before he finally answered. I have wondered the same thing. I have a theory …

What sort of a theory? I asked, curiously.