“Seriously, where were you?” Hadrian asked, sidling up to her.
She shrugged. “Flying.”
“Now… and not… I don’t know, humor me, Ker,” he said with an eye roll, “tomorrow?”
Kerrigan ruffled his perfectly kept blue hair. He balked at the touch and tried to sweep it back into place. “It was now or never.”
“Can I at least put a braid into your curls?” Darby asked with a resigned sigh.
She nodded and let Darby work two quick braids into her hair, pulling it off her face and hiding her ears. It didn’t matter much to Kerrigan. The dress and shoes and rouge would hide everything well enough. She was used to her hair not being tamed.
“Is it just me… or is it crowded?” Kerrigan asked as they reached the heart of the city.
Irena Hall in the Central district housed the ceremony every year. Since it was a dragon tournament year, it was also coupled with a party for the competitors. It was typically a busy event. Representatives from all twelve tribes would show up. Wagers would be made on the competitors. The Dragon Blessed would enter society. But this was… beyond that.
“It’s not just you,” Hadrian said.
He pulled in close to her and Darby. She could sense him reaching for his magic.
She frowned and did the same. It was better to be safe than sorry as far as she was concerned. Darby hardly had a spark, and it was all healing water magic. She wasn’t adept at fighting. She’d always shirked the lessons that Kerrigan found interesting. And vice versa.
“What’s that ahead?” Kerrigan asked.
Hadrian was the tallest. He rose to his toes to look over the crowd. His frown was measured. “It looks like… a demonstration.”
“A protest?” Darby squeaked in fear.
“Scales,” Kerrigan murmured.
She and Hadrian maneuvered Darby between them. Hadrian would do in a fight. He’d grown up with it. Then, Lyam settled back into their unit, effectively closing Darby in. Lyam was more mischief than fighter, but she’d rather have another person looking out for Darby either way.
“Do you know what’s going on?” Kerrigan asked Lyam.
He’d been up with Moran originally.
He gritted his teeth. “They’re protesting the tournament.”
Kerrigan sighed. So, it was all beginning again. Just like it had last tournament.
Society members held back the protestors as they passed through the thick of it toward the ballroom. They didn’t seem violent at least, but Kerrigna knew all too well how fast that could change.
A chant rose up out of the crowd, “Tournament is tyranny.”
Kerrigan shuddered. Then, just before she could step across the threshold and into the relative safety of the banquet hall, her eyes cast to the left. Her feet stumbled. She gasped as she waved unsteadily.
She recognized the people standing there.
She didn’t know them. Not exactly. But she knew them. Down to her marrow.
She had seen their faces in a vision. She had watched their anger and their cries. Another part of her vision… and here it was, a reality.
A cold sweat broke out across her skin. She was frozen in place, staring at the faces of the crowd. Then, Hadrian latched on to her elbow and yanked her inside. The doors slammed closed behind them.
“What were you doing?” Hadrian demanded.
“I… I don’t know,” Kerrigan muttered.
This was the biggest secret between them. She couldn’t tell him or anyone about the visions without endangering their lives. So, instead, she looked like an idiot.
“It’s dangerous, Ker.”
She nodded. “Sorry. I need to find Helly.”
And she knew with urgency that she really needed to find Helly.
“Mistress Hellina is assisting with preparations for the competitors,” Mistress Moran said, appearing at her side. “She will be here when the ceremony starts. Move along now.”
Kerrigan opened her mouth to argue, but Darby took her hand and squeezed. Kerrigan swallowed what she had been about to say and followed. She didn’t know what the protesters had been doing in her vision. She didn’t know if it had something to do with Fordham or her testing… or if the Red Masks would show. She didn’t know anything. As much as she hated her visions, she wished they were more specific.
She wanted to go find Helly and deal with this. But this was her night to celebrate. Maybe her last night ever with her friends all together like this. She would tell Helly later. After.
Kerrigan felt more commodity than human.
The Dragon Blessed stood single file atop a small stage overlooking the sea of influential persons. The ceremony was a high honor, but somehow, she still felt like she was on display, for purchase.
Her green eyes drifted across the sea of people. Every one of them was a wealthy, full citizen. More than a few were Society members. Though they weren’t in their black robes. The room was alight with color for the party after the ceremony concluded. Men in fresh suits and brightly colored robes. Women in elaborate ballgowns with glittering gemstones at their throats and wrists and ears. It was a cacophony.
She found her father standing near the back, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He was staring not at her, but with distaste at another man a few feet in front of him. Even without his Society robes, Kerrigan recognized Lorian’s black skin, strong build, and severe features. His wife stood at his side, beautiful and luminous with a medium-brown complexion and a proud tilt of her chin. She didn’t see their daughter, Alura, the winner of the last dragon tournament.
Kerrigan kept searching until she found Ellerby. He was a short, aging man with a bald patch at the top of his head. He hunched forward slightly with a curved spine, and he had his customary cane in his hand. People speculated that he was arched so because he refused to use his magic. That not using it withered the person from the inside. Kerrigan had no idea if that was true. People would say anything to condemn someone without magic.
By the time Mistress Moran took the stage, Helly still wasn’t in attendance. Kerrigan frowned. She wondered where Helly was. Should she have broken protocol to tell her about the protest being the one from her vision? Unease settled deeper into her bones.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for attending the annual Dragon Blessed ceremony,” Mistress Moran said. “As you know, we at the House of Dragons take great pride in the young souls that we are able to assist within Draco Mountain. The twenty-three bright minds you see before you have lived and worked inside the mountain alongside Society members and dragons. Their training has been extensive, and we’re pleased with the educational advancement of each and every one of our pupils.”
The crowd applauded the introduction. Kerrigan’s heart lessened at the words. They were likely scripted, but from Moran, they were heartfelt. She’d meant everything she said. Even though Kerrigan had been a thorn in her side, she still was proud of her on this day.
“Thousands of years before we stood on Alandrian soil, dragons ruled the island. Our history was fraught. The battles plentiful. Too many Fae and dragons alike died from those ancient battles. But it was one Fae maiden, Irena, who turned the tide of history. She negotiated a compromise, a truce, with the great dragon Ferrinix. And out of that came the first ever dragon bond. Fae and dragon linked until death. Anyone who would take a bond or bow to the supremacy of the dragon-bound society could live in peace. The Irena Bargain still lives today,” Mistress Moran said, quoting their history in hushed, worshipful tones. “And because of Irena’s great bravery, the Society rules all of Alandria. From the western forests of Woodloch to the eastern shores of Viland. To the high northern mountains of Tosin, all the way to the plains of Moran.” Mistress Moran respectfully bowed her head at the mention of her namesake.