She chuckled and patted him on the shoulder. “Poor Heath. You’re grumpier than a Soolen sometimes.”
“Not sure that’s possible.” Heath glanced at her hand on his shoulder and then down into her eyes.
Suddenly the world seemed to go still. There was something in Heath’s gaze that she’d seen before, something that warmed her cheeks and shortened her breath. Something she was quite certain must never be spoken aloud, for both their sakes.
Heath took a deep breath. “Sel, I need to tell you something.” He moved as if to take her hand. “I—”
“Don’t!” Selivia stepped back, not quite as smoothly as she meant to, and snatched up her teacup.
Heath looked shocked, but he covered it fast, his face going as blank as stone. It only confirmed what he’d almost said before she pulled away. Neither of them spoke for a few excruciating seconds.
“You’d better go check on the dragons,” she said into her tea. “They must be terribly upset after today’s excitement.”
Silence. Then: “Of course.”
Selivia risked a glance at him. A twitch of the mouth and a flicker of the eyelids were enough to tell her Heath was deeply mortified. Her heart gave a painful creak.
He set his teacup gently on the table. “Sleep well, Princess.”
She tried to answer and failed. Nothing she could say would help.
After one more unbearable pause, Heath turned and strode for the door, forgetting his usual formal bow entirely. He was gone before Selivia could work up the nerve to call him back.
6
Tamri set out for the Royal District before the sun came up. She’d followed the dragon rider’s instructions and packed light, not that she had many possessions. She filled a burlap sack with a few oft-darned tunics and one wide-skirted ankle-length summer dress. She also packed a pair of leather boots that had belonged to her mother, though she couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn shoes. It was easier to get mud off bare feet.
“Take my old cloak,” Gramma Teall said, limping out the front door after her. “It’s cold in the north.”
Tamri hugged the thick brown wool, thicker than any blanket she’d ever owned, and tried to think of something suitably meaningful to say. She wasn’t sure if they’d ever see each other again—or if Gramma Teall would remember her if they did.
“Saul will check in on you while I’m gone,” she said around a lump forming in her throat. “Be nice to him.”
Gramma Teall snorted. “I will if he stops proposing marriage.”
“Yes, he should really know better.”
Gramma Teall looked at her for a moment then reached into her own hair and pulled out the pewter dragonfly clasp. Tamri started to protest, but Gramma Teall waved away her objections and pinned the dragonfly to the brown cloak.
“You’re less likely to misplace it than I am,” she said, her voice thickening. “Take care of yourself, baby girl.”
Tamri kissed her grandmother’s cheek and tramped down the driftwood steps, knowing neither of them wanted a tearful goodbye. She paused at the end of their muddy street and looked back at Gramma Teall on the stilt house porch. The sea breeze lifted her steel-gray hair around her face as she raised a thin hand in farewell. Then she gave a resolute nod and hobbled back into the hut.
Tamri left the grubby neighborhood along her usual route, not quite believing she wouldn’t return that night. She’d been scrounging up a life for her and Gramma Teall in the Gutter District for years. She’d never imagined some benevolent stranger would spirit her away.
She touched her neck, where the Watermight Oath bound her flesh and bone. This lucky break wasn’t without dangers. Still, it might be the only way she’d ever make her grandmother’s life more comfortable. If Khrillin kept his part of the bargain, it would be worth the risks.
She reached the Royal District in record time after hitching a ride on the back of an especially speedy water taxi—the kind that used Watermight to speed through the canals. She hopped off just before the Waterworker driving the boat spotted her. Then, wrestling her nerves into submission, she presented herself at the gates to the King’s Tower.
A Pendarkan guard escorted her straight up to the battlements, where a narrow walkway overlooked the cobblestone courtyard. It was the same place where she’d landed the day before, though she’d been too busy being trussed up by Brik to take it in. The canals beyond the battlements were turning pink in the light of the rising sun. Despite the early hour, several of the Waterworkers who’d been in Khrillin’s audience chamber yesterday were here, along with a dozen more guards carrying spears. The Waterworkers shot angry looks at Tamri, no doubt remembering how she’d snatched away their power in front of the king yesterday.
The Vertigonian princess stood in their midst, wearing breeches and a dusky green coat with white flowers embroidered on the cuffs. Her hair was twisted in a knot on her head, and she carried a leather satchel on her back. When she spotted Tamri, she parted the crowd of guards and Wielders and skipped over to greet her personally.
“It’s lovely to see you again—oh, you never told me your name yesterday!”
“It’s Tamri,” she answered, surprised at the warm greeting.
“I’m so pleased you’re traveling with us, Tamri.”
“Uh, thank you, uh, Princess.”
Princess Selivia smiled brightly. “Lovely weather for flying today,” she said. “It’ll cool off as we get farther north. I’m not going all the way to Vertigon, but Heath will look after you. You’re going to love the school!”
Tamri struggled to find an appropriate response to the princess’s chatter. How were you supposed to talk to foreign royalty? A sudden urge to turn and flee seized her.
“I hope it wasn’t too much trouble to get ready at short notice,” the princess went on, not seeming to notice Tamri’s awkwardness. “I’m afraid I’m overdue in—oh look!”
Tamri ducked instinctively at her gasp.
“The dragons are coming!”
Ignoring her startled expression, the princess looped her arm through Tamri’s and drew her toward the battlements.
The summer morning was hazy, and the cloudy pink sky sat low on the horizon like a wool blanket. Tamri searched the fuzzy expanse, a nervous thrill buzzing through her. After Khrillin’s appearance in her home the night before, she had almost forgotten about the dragons.
A dark shape moved through the clouds, strange and ungainly and silent. Then she saw another. And another. Tamri tried to make out the details through the haze, unsure exactly how many there were.
Abruptly, the clouds seemed to open, revealing the great flying beasts plummeting downward with startling speed.
Tamri stepped back in surprise.
There were five dragons in the flock, each with wings bedecked with feathers and bodies covered in hard, shiny scales. Some had long feathered crests on their heads, which blew back sharply in the wind. All had distended bellies and jaws rimmed in silver, evidence of the Watermight they carried.
The dragons landed in a flurry of wings and scales on the narrow walkway, making the Pendarkan guards jump back and clutch at their spears. Riders in blue uniforms sat comfortably on the backs of the huge flying lizards. They didn’t use saddles, though leather harnesses held packs of supplies in place behind each rider.