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I’m about to shoot another dragon while riding a dragon. I’d thought saying the words aloud might help. But they didn’t. A wave of nausea swept over me. Oh, Bloodmaiden. I think I’m going to be sick.

You are not going to be sick. Nyxaris’s words were a command. You have done the same thing before, under worse conditions.

Briefly, I shut my eyes. Remembering the city on fire. The screams and the smoke. Yes, well, I was terrified then, too.

Yet you prevailed.

Actually, I missed. Many times, I reminded him. And you weren’t bleeding the last time.

Bleeding on purpose does not count.

My mouth twitched.

Besides, he went on, you are not alone. The others lie in wait below us.

I looked down as he flew lower over the school. Along the shore, hidden behind a cluster of rocks, Medra crouched, waiting—a crossbow braced in front of her, and at her feet sat a small creature. Neville’s eyes were wide and watchful as he looked up at the skies.

That morning, I’d expected him to try to follow me and insist on coming along for another dragon ride. But it was like he’d read our minds: He knew what we needed him to do, where we needed him to go. He’d followed Medra out of our room without hesitation, trotting along behind her as she went to meet up with Theo and Visha.

The little creature is wise beyond his years, mused Nyxaris.

Yes, and he keeps almost as many secrets as Rodriguez, I muttered. I scanned again and found Theo farther along the beach, kneeling behind another low outcrop of stone. His angular face was grim, but his crossbow looked steady in his slender hands.

Visha was the farthest off. She wasn’t hiding behind a rock, rather standing up and stretching, bouncing on her heels. Her face was hard and dangerous. Her crossbow sat on a nearby boulder, but she looked more than ready.

Everyone was in position. We had plenty of time. Nyxaris had calculated there was no way Vorago would arrive within an hour. I tried to calm myself. Then I felt my dragon tense, scale-covered muscles going rigid.

What is it?

Far across the horizon, a slash of red ripped across the sky.

My heart slammed against my chest. He’s early.

Nyxaris’s wings shifted, the beat changing just a fraction. Yes.

Vorago’s massive crimson form soared toward us, wings flaring, scales catching the sunlight. Somewhere inside, was Blake lurking? Fighting to get out?

Maybe Blake is in control, I whispered hopefully. Nyxaris made a scoffing sound. I sighed. No chance of that, then. My Duskdrake banked lazily, then began to circle the school as if simply flying on a routine patrol. He made it seem so casual, yet my stomach was in knots. I couldn’t help glancing back and noticing Vorago closing the distance. Nyxaris pretended not to see him. He was doing a good job, too. Suddenly he went rigid beneath me.

What is it? I gasped. His wings seemed to tighten. A chill went through me. He’s speaking to you, isn’t he? What is he saying?

Nyxaris didn’t reply. I couldn’t hear the words, but I felt their impact. I sensed the dragon’s anger spike and his control begin to strain.

He’s seen me, I guessed. Nyxaris didn’t answer.

But of course he had. Vorago was close enough now to spot my shape against Nyxaris’s back. I suddenly felt very exposed, and I knew what Vorago wanted: to tear me apart slowly, publicly, while Nyxaris was forced to watch. I forced the thought away, focusing on my hands on the crossbow. That wasn’t happening. Nyxaris would protect me from anything.

Get ready, Nyxaris said, his voice fierce. He turned sharply from Bloodwing, flying out over open water, leading the other dragon away deliberately. His wings beat harder, faster.

Focus now, Fireheart, Nyxaris commanded. This is it.

I swiveled around, turning myself backward as Nyxaris flew, bracing the crossbow against a low ridge of scales so perfectly placed that they seemed as if they’d been made for this very task.

I fired. The bolt went wide. I fired again. The second grazed red scales but skittered off, falling down to the sea.

No, I whispered. Damn it.

Keep going, Nyxaris said calmly. Do not fixate on mistakes.