“Do you remember when I said that we should talk about how to deal with ‘the rest of them’?” Mother asked.

  “That was only ten days ago,” we replied, “and not something anyone would forget.”

  “Was it, really? It felt like longer, with that boor pestering me. Well, in any case, he confirmed some of my concerns and shed some light on the situation here. Daughter, have you not thought it strange that no dragon has claimed this island in the half-millennium since your father perished?”

  “Not particularly. What I know of dragons comes from the humans, and they say that our kind are rare. We are spotted far out to sea sometimes, but no dragons have been seen on the island for as long as their recorded histories.”

  “And the Rifts? Their prevalence makes this island prime territory for any dragons seeking a new home.”

  “I suppose, in hindsight…” we said, trailing off as Instinct’s embarrassment came through. “But I have only known that I could eat them for a few months!”

  “Have you?” Mother quirked her head at us curiously. “Oh. Yes, of course. I forget how young you are. You have grown so much, even since I first saw you! But you do see why this place should have been claimed long ago, do you not?”

  “I do!” we agreed as we preened at Mother’s recognition of our size. Or Instinct did, and I didn’t see any reason not to let her. “It is a fine territory, rich in food and Rifts.”

  “Just so. And Splendor told me that there have been attempts to claim it. Quite a few, in fact. His own mother and father told him how they both vied for this very island in their youth. They also told him never to try to claim it himself. There is a pact, you see.”

  “A pact?”

  “Just so. There was too much blood shed in the years after what the humans call the Collapse, you see. Too many were terribly injured trying to claim this place, with no one maintaining control for long. So, to prevent disaster, the dragons of this part of the world made a pact. One that every dragon within thousands of miles knows and respects to this day. Every dragon, except for you… and myself, I suppose. No dragon may claim a territory on this island, lest they make themselves the enemy of all others. It has stood for hundreds of years and is taken so seriously that they do not even feed here, to not risk raising suspicion. And so, no dragon has set foot on this island or flown its skies in all that time. Until now.”

  “Until me,” we said. I felt sick. Instinct, for all her pride, was terrified. She wanted to retreat and leave me to deal with this, and I had to silently beg her not to. Mother was right there; we needed to be as much dragon as we could.

  Conscience mostly just felt bad for being the cause of Mother’s worries. She was sweet and useless like that.

  “Until you,” Mother agreed. “And my presence will both complicate and simplify things. Complicate them, because many of our neighbours, like Splendor, will be able to sense me if they come close enough to the island. And simplify them, because they may also be able to sense you and your growing hoard. They will be in for quite a surprise if they arrive expecting an easily bullied whelp and find me instead.”

  “You would have us stay?” we asked incredulously.

  “Of course! Why would we leave?” Mother asked, her face conveying the same tone.

  “You already wished to take us away for our safety. With a real threat…”

  “Daughter,” she said with barely restrained disappointment, “that was entirely different. I thought I might take you away for a few decades with periodic visits to your hoard, then have you return permanently. But to leave now would be to abandon this territory, and likely your hoard as well. Would your pride allow that? Could you survive that? Tell me, daughter. Can you abide the thought of leaving your current hoard forever to start anew, or trying to transport it across the sea for days on end?”

  Instinct and I had the exact same reaction to that idea. “I would go mad,” we said. “I moved it a short distance once, in less than an hour. It was the hardest thing I have ever done. To have my hoard on the move for days, over the sea, where parts may be lost forever… I would go absolutely mad. It might kill me.”

  “Just so,” Mother said, huffing her agreement. “We stay. This island is yours by right of inheritance. That is what I told Splendor, and he seemed to accept it, but he doubts the females of this region will be so understanding. No matter. We will speak, and we will try to make them see reason, and if they will not, well… I have not had a good fight for dominance in a dozen decades or so now. I think I might welcome the excitement.”

  When I returned to the village, Barro, Tavia, and Ramban were well on their way. I returned alone; Mother had taken off westward to start her patrol, with a promise to come find me once night fell.

  With Mother away, Instinct didn’t care much about remaining in control. She’d retreated for some “relaxation and entertainment,” as she put it, and had been silent ever since — my guess was that she was spending her time in either of Zabra’s or Tammy’s heads. Besides, even if she hadn’t been feeling lazy, letting me take full control again was the right thing to do. She’d told Mother that she only felt completely like a dragon when Mother was with us; what better way to sell that than to let the thread connecting her to us dim when she was away?

  Instinct was rude, proud, and arrogant, but she could be cunning, too.

  We were soon on our way, too, returning to the main forest road and then turning north. Just reaching the road took until well into the afternoon; we had to pass through about twenty miles of forest on rough paths, and it was slow going.

  By the time we reached the road, Ardek and Kira were well on their way to exhaustion. That was a little bit my fault, in the sense that I could have helped them but didn’t. On our way to Lady’s Rest I’d let them ride on my back, one at a time; now, though, I was too concerned about the goblins that my villagers had spotted to stay with the group.

  Too concerned, and too restless. I was terribly restless.

  In order to relieve both of those sentiments, I decided to take Herald with me on a nice, long flight, leaving the others to plod along as we searched for goblins from the sky. Perhaps that was neglectful of me, but being the dragon overlord should come with some privileges. It wasn’t like Herald took any convincing, either. She loved flying as much as I did. I barely had to suggest it before she offloaded her pack onto Marvan, who accepted it like some holy relic. Then she repeated her feat from the previous day and vaulted onto my back, landing with her legs on either side of my neck before scooting back so she sat between my wings..

  “Did I just see that?” Tam asked, turning to Val. “Did my little sister just jump eight feet into the air?”

  Val considered my height then deadpanned, “More like four and a half. Perhaps five. The girl has long legs.”

  “But her behind is currently two feet above where her head would usually be. I have that right, yes?”

  “That is the case.”

  “How?” He turned toward me and Herald. “How, Kitten? You never were a slouch, but I don’t remember you jumping over people’s heads like some tumbler.”

  “Draka is not the only one with a new Advancement, if you recall,” Herald said smugly. “What kind of dragon rider would I be if I could not get onto my…” Herald paused for far too long before she said, “Companion?”

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  “Fine save!” Ardek laughed, clapping softly. “Probably the least insulting or disturbing way to finish that sentence!”

  “Lady Herald,” Marvan asked, giving Ardek an appraising look. Herald’s climber had half a foot and probably fifty pounds of muscle on my street rat. “Shall I defend your honor?”

  “Go on, love,” Sarina said, but there was a glint in her eye that she shared with her husband. I suspected that they weren’t entirely serious. “He deserves it!”

  Herald made a show of considering it, hemming and hawing until Ardek started throwing worried glances first at Marvan, then at Herald, and finally at me. Then she laughed and said, “No, I do not think that will be necessary, Marvan. I think I would rather you got along. Thank you for the offer, though.”

  “I don’t see the problem,” Mak said glibly. “Ardek and I get on just fine. Let’s have them go a few rounds!”

  “I’m going,” I stated, turning to go to a clearing I’d seen a few minutes back. “Mak, please don’t encourage the boys to fight.”

  “My money’s on Ardek,” Tam said as I carried Herald away. “He’s scrappy.”

  “Are you going to lie down sometime soon, so we can get going?” I asked Herald as I looked up at the open sky a little later.

  “I think not.”

  My surprise was enough for me to sit down and ask, “Nah, what?”

  “I thought I might try flying sitting up, like this,” she said sheepishly, squeezing me with her legs for emphasis.

  “You’ll fall! You’ve felt the air resistance when I fly, how do you expect to—?”

  “I told you, though! That’s what I saw!” she insisted quickly. “When I picked my Advancement, I saw myself flying on your back, just like this! With my bow in hand, even!”

  “How will you even stay on?!”

  “How do I know where you are?” she shot back. “How can Mak tell how you are feeling when you are half the island away? How do you make people worship you? Magic, Draka!”

  “Nah, yeah, sure, but—” Mid-sentence I shook myself. Not too hard, of course; I didn’t want her to hurt herself. But certainly hard enough that she should have at least slid off me. That wasn’t what happened, though.

  At first, all she said was, “Woah! Woah, Draka! What are you—?” She didn’t budge. Then I shook myself a little more vigorously, and she started laughing. At first it was just a giggle, but as I kept shaking and nothing happened, the laughter just grew and grew, distorted by the way I was throwing her around. And by the end, I really was throwing her around, like some demented mechanical bull. No matter how I tried, though, her behind remained glued to my back, legs firm around my, for lack of a better word, waist. “Draka! Stop!” she finally said, the words coming out in bits and pieces from a combination of my shaking and her laughter. “Please, stop! I’ll be sick! I’ll be sick! It’s on you if I’m sick!”

  I stopped. I had no interest in seeing how literal she was being.

  “Thank you!” she laughed after I’d stilled. “Are you quite satisfied?”

  “Fine,” I told her. “We can try it. But I’m starting out nice and slow, and I’m holding onto you until I’m satisfied the wind won’t throw you off!”

  “Yes! Fine! No objections!” Herald was bouncing with excitement. “Fly, already!”

  As I flexed my wings and moved to one end of the clearing, I said, “You’re pushy for a thrall, you know that?”

  She scoffed, but there was still plenty of amusement in there. “I am no thrall. Tammy is a thrall. Zabra is a thrall. Maybe Mak, loathe as I am to say so. I am more of an ardent admirer. An admirer of your ability to fly in particular, so get to it!”

  And Sarina? I wanted to ask. Marvan? What are they? But I didn’t. I worried, not so much about what she’d say, but how she’d say it. I didn’t like how flippant she’d become about “enthralling” people, as she preferred to call it, but I really didn’t intend to have that conversation when she was so excited. I didn’t want to ruin the mood.

  Instead of saying anything that might make Herald uncomfortable, I just told her, “As you wish, Young Lady Drakonum. Sit tight!” and flung myself into the air.

  It was magical. I was flying with Herald, just her and me, so of course it was. It was also terrifying, since I was used to her being somewhat secure on my back, and now she very much wasn’t. Or at least it felt that way to me — Herald was as happy as ever, and her only concern seemed to be how often she had to tell me to loosen my grip on her legs.

  We didn’t find any goblins; but then, that was neither likely nor the point in the first place. We did look. I wasn’t going to just ignore my villagers’ concerns. But we both knew that the likelihood of us spotting any goblins from the air was infinitesimal. It just wasn’t happening unless we passed right above wherever they were camped, and even then one of us would have to be looking straight down. So right from the beginning it was more of an exercise in not having a heart attack whenever Herald shifted so much as an inch, and also filling Herald in on what Mother had told me.

  We discovered two things about Herald’s Advancement during that flight: first, that Herald literally would not move unless she wanted to. No matter how fast I went, no matter how the crosswinds might hit us, or how terrifyingly irresponsible she might be in throwing her hands up and almost bloody dancing as we flew far too fast and far too high, she was never in any danger. Not that I could convince my bowels of that.

  The second we found was that, no matter the circumstances, we could hear each other perfectly. It was as though there existed a shield of sorts around us, preventing the wind from taking our words — which might also explain why Herald wasn’t affected by drag or turbulence or anything like that no matter how fast I went. Being able to speak so easily came in useful whenever I begged her to settle down — which was about once every minute.

  Then Herald went and asked me a question that made me wish it wasn’t quite so easy to speak, and the fact that I’d told her anything about what Mother and I had talked about.

  “So,” she said cheerfully, “do you think your mother is interested in this Splendor of the Ocean fellow?”

  I literally missed a beat at that, dropping a few feet before catching myself as my wings lost their rhythm. “Why would you think that?!” I said, half question and half accusation.

  “Draka,” she said kindly, “do you really think it would take Sower of Embers, Reaper of Flame ten days to run another dragon off if she was being serious?”

  “He was persistent!” I objected.

  “I am sure that he was. She kept not maiming him.”

  “Not maiming someone doesn’t mean you like them!”

  Herald leaned forward, putting her hand on my neck in a comforting gesture. “When you are a dragon as old and powerful as Embers, I think it does. Think about it. This other dragon came here, to your island. He is a threat to you, simply because of how strong he must be and how rich of a territory this apparently is. He even chased you! Yet even after that, she let him keep coming. She even spoke with him! Do you really not think that your mother would have been able to kill or severely injure him if she so chose? You have seen how fast she can be when she wants to. And I am not sure if you could tell, but the first time we saw her she was breathing flame at a distance of hundreds of feet. If she wanted to be rid of this ‘Splendor’, she could have been. I am certain of it.”

  I hated how much sense her words made to me. And I hated how they reminded me that Mother called him Splendor several times, using the shorter, familiar form of his name — something dragons wouldn’t do except with family and favored allies.

  “I really don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I grumbled.

  Herald just laughed and leaned forward to give my neck a light hug, my wings jostling her precariously — or not — before I locked them. “Oh, come on! Good for her, I say!”

  “Absolutely done with this topic! We’re going to get your Heart filled, and then we’re scouting ahead for the others a bit. And we’re not talking about Splendor anymore!”

  “Fine, fine!” Herald laughed, sitting back up. “Mercies, you are like me the first time Mak— ah, forget it.”

  She kept laughing at me on and off for the rest of the flight.

  Early that evening, we made it to Pine Hill. While the humans entered the village to make sure that all was well, I waited in the forest, watching through Herald’s eyes as they knocked on the door to Lalia and Lahnie’s family home.

  “I do not know if the news has reached you here yet, but you need to know,” Herald told the adults. Lahnie hovered in the background looking out into the forest. “There is a dragon in the city now. A friendly one, who wishes for Karakan and her people to remain free and prosperous.”

  “Aye, we heard,” Lahnie’s father said. From his tone and the set of his face, he wasn’t a fan of mine.

  “Has Lalia told you that she knows the dragon personally? That they have saved each other’s lives?”

  A sharp intake of breath from the sisters’ mother said that no, Lalia had not shared that with them.

  “Or that the dragon saved Lahnie once, when she was lost in the forest?”

  “Lahnie!” the girl’s mother said, looking at her daughter with horror.

  Lahnie whirled at the mention of her name with a high, outraged, “Herald! That was a secret!”

  “I know, sweetheart,” Herald said apologetically. “And I am sorry. But it cannot stay a secret anymore. It is time. Draka?”

  She said my name so softly, I wouldn’t have heard if I weren’t in her head. It took me a minute to reach the village along the road. Even so, I was big enough that the people of Pine Hill could watch me coming the whole time.

  There were gasps and mutterings. People hid their children in their homes. I’d had warmer welcomes. But no one tried to slay me, and nobody accused me of being a demon. I considered that a small victory.

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