Page 36 of Court of Secrets and Flames (Dragons of Tirene #2)

Chapter Thirty-Six

Tears blur my vision as I gaze upon the tragic sight before me. Ryu, the large blue dragon, stands solemnly, his enormous head bowed low, the pitiful form of a juvenile dragon the size of a cow, pale blue and lifeless, sprawled in front of his dagger-length claws.

My heart clenches.

Ryu’s intelligent eyes fix on me, and at that moment, I understand. This sorrowful burden was meant for me to bear. The same way the herd of dead alicorns was.

“Ryu…how? Why?”

I can’t stand idle, not when there’s something to be done—even if it’s only to mourn. Bracing myself against the paddock wall, I fly over and land among the dragons, the sand rock mixture tangible through my thin shoes.

Is this it, then? The reason for the sense of foreboding, for the urgency that’s gripped me over the past few days?

Sterling moves to follow me, but Ryu’s chuff slices through the air, halting his intent. The crowd flinches backward, a ripple of fear passing through them while the dragontenders scatter like leaves in the wind.

“Easy, everyone.” My voice is a soft command, though my hands tremble. Ryu’s hurt and anger hits me in waves. “Could you please stand back? The dragons need some space.”

My authority settles over the chaos like a blanket, mostly silencing the crowd except for a few hushed remarks about “the dragoncaller.”

I step forward, placing myself between Ryu and Sterling, daring to approach the lost one.

Ryu watches me, and I sense approval emanating from the ancient beast.

“Rest now, little one.” I reach a tentative hand to stroke the leathery wing of the deceased, from outermost tip to where it joins the fledgling’s back.

The gesture is intended for the living. Respect as well as acknowledgment of the dragons’ pain, the air heavy with the scent of blood and sorrow.

The action also doubles as a way to check for information. Through touch, I ascertain that the body’s cold, not rigid. And by allowing my fingers to continue traveling, I can tell the belly has yet to swell from bloat.

Grief slaps me, dropping me to my knees. “If only we’d gotten there sooner.”

“What?” Sterling, held at bay by an invisible barrier of grief and respect, lowers his head.

“I’m…not sure. It’s what Ryu was feeling just now.” Using both hands, I close the young dragon’s fathomless black eyes for the last time. “He regrets not getting there to save, no…warn…the juvenile, who wasn’t supposed to be out there alone.”

Sterling draws in a shallow breath. “Juveniles rarely leave the nests alone to hunt. Sometimes we see them in the sky, but almost never on the ground.”

“We will find out what happened.” It’s a promise, not just to the dragons, but to myself.

Still, given the similarities to the fallen alicorn herd, my neck prickles with the ominous certainty that this young dragon’s death is more than an isolated tragedy.

He bears no visible injury. No mark or abnormality to point to the cause of death.

And that same faint scent of sweet decay emits from the body.

That niggling sensation has returned, alerting me that we’re missing something.

Something big.

Ryu’s gaze pierces me, the yellow orbs almost swirling as his thoughts brush against mine. The connection is immediate, a light mingling of minds that’s reminiscent of the ephemeral touch of butterfly wings.

I blink back tears, not just for the dead dragon at my feet but for the burden of knowledge that now weighs on me.

“He was so young. Still a toddler to your kind and mine.” My heart clenches for the loss of such innocence, for the brevity of a life barely begun.

Ryu inclines his head, a gesture so human it causes my lungs to hitch.

Dame must have seen this coming. That was why she showed me the alicorns. And yet, she left me unprepared, stranded in a sea of clues without a compass.

“Show me why, Ryu. What caused this?”

The blue dragon releases a noise akin to a human sigh and a gust of warm air that smells faintly of smoke and secrets. He believes I possess the answers already, that the sight of the dead alicorn herd should have been enough. But what am I missing?

The bond we share starts to fray, vibrating with their impatience. They’ve shown me, they insist. There’s nothing more for them to do.

I approach Dame, her scales shimmering with the hues of a dying sun. The reddish-brown dragon towers over me, her pale-yellow underwings folded neatly at her sides.

“Dame, why did you flee earlier?” My mind brushes hers, and I imagine her fleeing. I project my curiosity, my longing to understand, along with an image I hope is clear enough for her to comprehend.

Her golden eyes, ancient and fathomless, hold mine. She blinks. Her rumbling growl ripples through the air, prompting the crowd to scurry farther away.

All I get from her is a general sense of unease.

“I wish you could tell me what terrified the dragons.”

Another flicker of unease ripples down the honeysuckle yellow frill that frames her head.

I turn again to Ryu, the blue dragon who brought the dead juvenile back. Focusing on our connection, I share my concern with him. My curiosity. My desire to know more about what happened.

Ryu mirrors Dame’s sentiment with a hiss that slices through the tension. His gaze shifts away, covering the paddock before settling on the carcasses they now claim as their feast.

Chirean, silent and stoic, offers no further insight, his gigantic form a bulwark against invisible threats. Yet he stands close to Dame, watching over everything while his mate eats her fill. While he’s not afraid, he’s also not content.

“I’m sensing some strong emotions, but they’re not projecting any images. I have no idea what could have terrified the dragons or killed the fledgling.”

Sterling curls his palm over my shoulder, offering me silent reassurance. “Maybe it’s a warning.”

“We’re missing something. There’s got to be a clue to lead us to who or what could have killed the dragon, the alicorns, the fawns…”

I watch them, these mighty creatures who navigate the world with an enigmatic blend of savagery and intelligence. Goats bleat in the distance, unaware of their status as meals awaiting consumption.

Majestic wings beat the air, stirring dust and leaves in a tumultuous whirlwind. The dragons ascend, their massive forms shrinking as they soar into the azure expanse above. I shield my eyes against the glare of the midday sun, tracking their flight until they become mere specks against the endless sky.

Sterling tracks the dragons too. “Seems like this was merely a pit stop. A grim delivery, a hasty meal, then back to business.”

A shadow of frustration passes over me as I stand amid the carnage, the dragons receding into the realm of their own concerns. Their indifference is a stinging reminder that I am bound by human limitations, while they operate on a scale I can scarcely comprehend.

“What now?”

Sterling’s grip on my shoulder tightens. “We seek an audience with my brother.”