Page 5 of Wild Bond (Wild Bond #1)

N o one was more surprised than I, when a few minutes later, I found myself being escorted to Graystone Keep by Commander Rakim himself. Once again, I was left to wonder why this man was helping me, but I thought it might be because he felt sorry for me. Either that, or he didn’t think I could make it to the castle safely on my own.

We had been walking for several minutes before I got up the courage to venture a question. “Why is there only one flying instructor?” I asked, hurrying to keep up with his much longer strides.

“Most of our current trainees’ dragons are too young or small to carry a rider and those that are, have already mastered the basics of flying with their riders. There hasn’t ever been a need for more than one teacher.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say to that, so I returned to observing my surroundings.

My experience walking through the city was very different than before, when I was chained with the other prisoners and on my way to Petitioner’s Square. People still stopped to stare, but this time it was because of the dragon on my shoulder, or maybe it was because of the trainee leathers I wore, or more likely it was due to the tall, imposing man striding a few paces ahead of me with that scowl on his face and the dragon, still as big as a hound, stalking at his side.

I would stare too. I was staring. It was hard not to when that powerfully built body which moved with a predator’s grace was only a few feet in front of me.

For her part, Skye was taking in everything around us with a boundless curiosity that I was quickly discovering was an integral part of the being she was—at least when she wasn’t being overly protective.

I had many more questions but decided to keep them to myself. The commander didn’t seem in the mood, and I didn’t want that glare of his turned on me.

Before long we arrived at the castle gates. The guards took one look at Rakim and let us pass. I stared up at the massive stone structure disappearing into the night sky overhead. The dark stone walls seemed to shift in the light from all the torches and lanterns hanging from its walls and throughout the courtyard. As we walked forward, I couldn’t help but think of the night I was captured, and how my life had changed so drastically. The scar on my arm itched, and a chill raced down my spine, and I tried to force that night from my mind.

Lost in my thoughts and clinging to my connection with Skye for something to ground me, I was hardly aware of anything, least of all my surroundings, until we entered what I could only assume was the ballroom.

I fought to control the sudden bout of nerves that assailed me. The room itself was one of the most beautiful and massive things I had ever seen in my life. Creamy marble and gold filigree dominated the open space. Marble pillars lined the dance floor on all sides leading up to a balcony that overlooked the floor below. Music drifted down from where I could see a group of musicians playing at one end. Nobles in their finery and riders clad in armor filled the ballroom, everyone eating, talking, drinking, or dancing. I also noticed a few younger riders sporting brown trainee leathers like mine. Servants in the green and silver livery of the crown ducked in and out of the crowd, carrying trays of drinks or delicate creations that I could only assume were food of some kind, though they looked more like art.

A few dozen dragons, all in their minor forms, flitted around the room, most staying close to their riders.

Rakim led me over to one of the marble pillars on the left of the dance floor where dozens of couples were currently dancing.

“Wait here,” he ordered. “I’ll let the queen know you’ve arrived. No doubt they’ve been waiting to begin the presentation.”

I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, he and his dragon had disappeared into the crowd.

Clenching my hands at my sides, I tried to take several deep breaths while I glanced around, trying to ignore the eyes on me. The scrutiny didn’t appear to bother Skye at all. She was even more curious than I was as she took in our surroundings.

I was mesmerized by the dancers and how everyone seemed to know the steps, falling into them easily, even when the song changed. The women all looked beautiful in their colorful dresses and elaborate hairstyles, while all the men appeared dignified and elegant as they moved their partners through the steps.

The dancing I was used to seeing in the lower city streets and taverns during the celebrations was very different. The music and movements were much more lively and loud than the graceful ones I was witnessing here. I couldn’t help feeling like a fraud at that moment, wondering how I was suddenly supposed to belong here. I couldn’t imagine ever fitting into this world.

After several minutes of watching the dancing couples, my eyes were drawn to the opposite side of the dance floor where Prince Pierce was speaking to another man in long dark robes. I wondered how the prince had gotten here before us, but then remembered that he was a dragon rider. He had likely flown here while Commander Rakim had escorted me through the city on foot, since I couldn’t fly yet. The man the prince spoke with was older, thin, and pale to the point of almost looking sickly. He had a hawkish nose and slicked back, light-colored hair that was a mix between gray and blonde. He wasn’t dressed as a dragon rider, and I had never seen the man before, so I assumed he was a nobleman. There was an air of oily superiority practically dripping off him that I didn’t care for.

He glanced my way then, and our eyes clashed. Unsettled by the odd flare of calculation and avid interest in his eyes, I hurriedly looked away.

Trying to pretend I hadn’t been caught staring, I let my gaze drift casually over the crowd until they fell on a little boy who couldn’t be more than five or six. He caught my attention because he was dressed in a smaller version of the trainee leathers and was holding a little ruby colored dragon in his hands. He stood by a man and a woman that were dressed in the more simple style of commoners. I guessed they were his parents.

Skye noticed where my attention had landed and sent me images of the boy bonding with the tiny dragon he held. The images took place during the day, and I could tell they were in the large arena known as the Nest. I realized this was Skye’s way of telling me that this boy had bonded with his dragon during these celebrations and that she had been there to witness it. He would be presented to the queen tonight as well.

The music came to a halt, and everyone quieted as a steward addressed the onlookers and welcomed everyone to the Exodus Ball on behalf of Her Majesty.

I stepped forward so that I stood on the edge of the crowd facing the dais that was set up on one end of the ballroom—the dais where the queen now sat with her two children by her side.

I had never had a chance to see Queen Elaide in person before. She was a tall, older woman, nearing her seventh decade. Her auburn hair was streaked with gray and pulled back from her lined face, complimenting the dark green gown she wore. She was still beautiful, despite her age, and held herself with a regal bearing. A polished wooden cane with a golden dragon’s head atop it leaned against the arm of her throne within easy reach.

Prince Pierce, who looked just as formidable as he had in the council chamber, and Princess Mercedes, sat in smaller chairs on either side of the queen’s throne. The prince’s scowling face regarded everyone in the room as his dragon lounged on the step below him, staring just as imperiously out at the crowd.

Princess Mercedes, on the other hand, looked nothing like her older brother. She had long auburn hair that mirrored her mother’s, with glasses perched on a small nose. Her pretty face boasted a light dusting of freckles. She smiled sweetly, but her willowy frame was draped in a lavender gown that looked stiff and uncomfortable. I didn’t know much about the princess other than she wasn’t a rider and was said to be rather shy. If that were the case, then no wonder she looked so uneasy surrounded by all these people.

“Bring my new riders forward,” the queen commanded, interrupting the steward, her tone somehow impatient and slightly bored at the same time. I would have chuckled at the flustered look on the man’s face if I wasn’t so nervous.

I took in all the nobles, riders, and unfamiliar faces surrounding me as I stepped forward. I caught a glimpse of Rakim standing just off to the side of the dais. There was a few feet of space all around him, as if people were wary of getting too close.

The little boy I had noticed earlier, and a young girl who could be no older than ten, came forward as well. A noblewoman with the same dark hair and eyes as the young girl stood at the edge of the crowd. She gave a reassuring smile when the girl looked back at her. A silvery white dragon was perched on the girl’s shoulder, and she stroked its tail lightly before turning back around to face the queen.

The little boy was clutching his ruby dragon to his chest. The animal looked tiny in his small hands, reminding me more of a lizard with wings. From the way it was wriggling around, I guessed the dragon could not be much older than a few years, still very much a hatchling.

“Only three of you,” Queen Elaide mused aloud. “Another lean year.” She wasn’t speaking very loudly, but her voice carried in the quiet of the hall.

The queen stood with the help of her cane, using it to walk the few steps down from the dais until she stood not a dozen feet away from us. Her assessing gaze took each of us in one at a time.

“Penelope,” she addressed the girl first as if she recognized her.

Penelope sank down as if to drop into a curtsy, but then seemed to remember she was in her training leathers so instead dropped into a quick bow. “Your Majesty,” she murmured, placing a hand to her heart, her cheeks pinkening.

The queen’s upper lip ticked in what could have been a smile before she said, “I’m glad to see you’ve finally bonded. Though I’m not surprised, given your parentage.” She glanced at the woman I had noticed before and a tall man that stood beside her. He wore no armor, but a dragon sat at his feet. “And your dragon?” she inquired of the girl.

“Her name is Nelees, my queen.”

The monarch nodded to the silvery dragon in respect, then looked back at Penelope. “I’m sure you both will serve our kingdom well.”

Penelope bowed again and the queen moved on to the little boy.

I fought to stifle a grin, as he was currently trying to remove his dragon from the top of his head, where it had become tangled among his brown curls. He finally succeeded, holding his dragon out in front of him, only to have it begin to lick his face. There were a few chuckles from the assembled crowd behind us.

This time I was certain there was a hint of the smile on the queen’s face and in her eyes. “And you are, young man?”

The boy looked up, and his big brown eyes widened as if he was shocked to see her standing there. He quickly sank into a clumsy bow. “Declan. I’m Declan Finley, milady,” he said. The queen didn’t comment on the incorrect form of address as the boy continued, holding up the squirming dragon, “And this is— well, I don’t really know what his name is yet. He won’t tell me. He just keeps showing me pictures of mice. I think that’s his favorite food. I’m just calling him Izzy for now, until I know for sure. That was my dog’s name before he died.”

I had a feeling the boy could have carried on for quite a while, but the queen finally got a word in, saying, “I’m sure you will find a proper name for him soon.”

Declan smiled up at her and nodded. “I hope so, milady.”

My heart pinched at that smile, that sweet, innocent expression. He reminded me so much of Lessa in that moment. He was about the same age she had been the first night she had been brought to Safan’s. Luckily, I had been there and was able to volunteer to show her the ropes. Otherwise, who knows what Safan could have done with her. The thought made me wonder for the thousandth time where Lessa was now. I couldn’t wait until I was well enough and could leave The Tower to search for her.

The queen’s shrewd gaze then shifted in my direction as she took a few steps toward me, stopping in front of me and Skye.

Her bright gaze took in every aspect of my person before drifting to do the same to the dragon on my shoulder. Then her sharp eyes returned to me. “And your name, trainee?”

“Corrine Darrow, Your Majesty,” I said as I bowed, fisting a hand on my heart. “But I go by Rin.”

She motioned to me, and I straightened as she stated, “My spymaster tells me you were one of my petitioners at the celebrations this year?”

I nodded. “I was, Your Majesty.”

Her eyes narrowed. “He also said that he pardoned you for the crime of theft.”

My eyes shot to Commander Rakim where he stood beside the dais. I hadn’t known that. He hadn’t told me I’d been officially pardoned. Rakim met my stare with that annoyingly blank expression, giving nothing away.

My gaze returned to Queen Elaide. And even though she hadn’t really asked a question, I confirmed, “Yes, my queen.”

“And is it true that the reason you were imprisoned was that you stole Queen Lethara’s Blade from this very castle?”

My heart was pounding in my chest now, and my face grew hot. Where was she going with this?

“Yes, Your Majesty,” I gritted out, fighting back the wealth of protests that wanted to accompany that statement. I met the queen’s stare then, refusing to look away.

To my surprise, a bit of humor entered her eyes. “I should like to hear that story one day.”

I gaped at her as there were a few titters from the crowd, thinking I couldn’t have heard her right. But the look she was giving me and what she had just said made me feel as if she almost didn’t care that I had stolen from her. And her making light of the matter in front of all these witnesses would no doubt lessen my guilt in the eyes of many. Gazing at her, I couldn’t help but wonder if that was her intent.

Before I could even begin to think up a response, she lifted one hand from her cane, waved it at me and sighed, “Do close your mouth girl, before you catch a fly.”

My mouth snapped shut with an audible click.

She then turned her consideration to Skye. “What is her name?” she asked, not looking away from the dragon. The queen had captured Skye’s complete attention, as well.

“Skye,” I murmured. “Her name is Skye . . . my queen.”

“Skye,” she repeated thoughtfully, as if trying the name out on her tongue. She nodded once. “Yes, I rather like that. Untraditional, but I suppose that is fitting for a rare bonding such as yours.” She bowed her head in the same sign of respect Nesenya had used earlier. “Welcome, Skye. I am glad to see the Jade Dragon has finally found her rider.”

Skye inclined her head, and I felt the oddest mixture of emotions coming from her. She felt a sense of pride at the queen’s acknowledgment, but also an intense curiosity as she studied the ruler. She was picking up on a sense of profound sadness coming from the queen, a sadness that was not apparent on the queen’s face. I would not have known it was there if not for my dragon’s keen intuition that allowed her to see something I could not.

I felt the tang of a question in the bond. Skye wanted to know why the queen was sad. I was about to respond that I had no idea, when all at once I remembered. Only one thing could cause a sadness that profound.

She lost her husband and her dragon two decades ago in a skirmish against Zevitian forces. It was part of the reason our countries originally went to war.

A mournful note of sympathy trickled through the bond.

I agreed with Skye. I couldn’t even imagine the agony of losing Skye after bonding with her, and our bond was still only in its infancy. Nothing like the several decades the queen had been bonded to her dragon before she lost her, and then to lose a spouse as well.

The death of a bonded dragon was almost always fatal to its rider. If the rider did manage to survive, the severing of the bond was so crushing that it usually drove the rider mad, and many eventually took their own lives rather than live on without the bond. Those riders who did retain their sanity, and decided to continue living, were known as The Hollow Ones, or just Hollow. A title bestowed on them by society, much like a woman or man who lost a spouse was known as a widow or widower.

The queen must have picked up on Skye’s emotions, or maybe she saw something on my face that gave away our line of conversation, because, for a brief instant, her gaze took on a far away, almost lost quality. Her voice lowered, and there was a depth of pain in her next statement that I couldn’t even begin to fathom. “Treasure her,” she counseled softly. “Keep each other safe.”

I swallowed hard.

In the next moment, however, the look of grief was gone, and the shrewd and almost bored mask of the monarch was back in place. In a much louder tone she said, “I will be most intrigued to see what the future holds for you Rin,” her eyes shifted to Skye, “and your famous dragon.”

With a sharp nod and a wave of her hand she moved away, clearly dismissing us. Climbing back up the stairs of the dais, she sat primly back on her throne and accepted a glass of wine from a waiting servant before pounding her cane on the floor. Instantly, the musicians started up again. My fellow trainees moved to rejoin their parents, and I melted back into the crowd, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, though I wasn’t sure I succeeded.

Sometime later—after several hours of being gawked at, sneered at, or just plain ignored by the other guests—the great bell tower of Dessin, located several miles east in another part of the city, tolled the midnight hour. All the guests began making their way outside. A burst of excitement filled me at the familiar sound. The ballroom’s glass doors were opened to the warm night air. I stepped out onto the massive stone balcony that ran alongside the length of the ballroom. Men and women in all their finery, nobles, riders, and servants alike were spreading out across the lawn and gardens below. Some stopped to stand on the stairs, while others found places to sit on the stone benches in the garden, or even on the grass. But all eyes stared expectantly up at the sky. The torches and fairy lights that normally blazed to light the grounds had been doused or dimmed so as not to detract from what was to come.

I knew it would be much the same all throughout the city right now. I could easily picture all the people in the lower city standing out on the darkened streets or peering out of open windows to watch. Every year Master Safan would say the Exodus was the best time to pick pockets, since everyone was distracted and all eyes were on the sky, but I never did. I loved watching the dragons along with the rest of Dessin. The whole thing lasted no longer than five minutes at most, and for that short time each year, I could look up and forget who and what I was, and everything but the beauty before me. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

I made my way to an empty portion of the balcony, slightly apart from any other guests, and placed my hands on the warm stone railing. Skye glided down to perch next to my hand. I could feel her eager excitement as we waited. An almost reverent silence had fallen over the crowd; over the entire world, it seemed. I took a deep breath of the jasmine scented air, feeling the thrum of blood in my veins just as the first dragon flew overhead.

A cry went up at the sight. The dragon’s scales glowed with a soft, shimmering, almost iridescent light, and a faint hum could be heard emanating from it. Then another dragon appeared, and another and another. Soon the sky was filled with dragons of all sizes and colors, wild as well as bonded. Each one glowing with the same gentle light and filling the night with the same melodic, almost mournful hum, known as Dragon Song.

Dragon Song, much like the mysterious, instinctual call that drove wild dragons to seek out their riders each year, was something little understood by the people of Palasia. It was something that only happened once a year during the Exodus, when the young, wild dragons that came for the celebrations, but didn’t find their riders, were escorted home by their bonded brethren. The bonded dragons would fly with the wild dragons until dawn.

No one knew why they sang , or why on this one night their scales emitted that soft glow. I didn’t particularly care why; I just knew it was one of the most spectacularly beautiful things I had ever seen.

I heard a soft hum beside me and glanced down to see Skye staring longingly after the other dragons. Her tiny chest produced a sound not unlike a purr. I could feel her yearning to join them warring with her desire to stay and protect me.

A wave of affection overcame me as she fought her instincts so valiantly for my sake.

I bent slightly, stroking her head until she turned and met my eyes. “Go,” I urged her softly. “I’ll be fine here until you get back.”

Her tiny head swiveled to stare at the other dragons, then back to me. She mewled; indecision clear in her manner.

“Go,” I ordered, more firmly this time. “It’s only for a couple of hours.”

She hesitated only a moment longer, then nuzzled my hand and sent me images through the bond of her returning to me in the morning. I smiled at the sweet reassurance that she would be back and made a shooing motion with my hand. She took off into the sky, transforming as she went until she had grown to her true size.

I noticed several people point her out in the sky as her uniquely colored scales began to radiate the same shimmering light.

I suddenly felt a presence at my side and turned to see Commander Rakim had halted beside me. He stared out at the sight before us, and those impossibly blue eyes seemed to glitter in the dragon light from above.

“There’s nothing quite like it, is there?” he said.

I turned back to stare out at the night, watching Skye’s form gradually get smaller as she disappeared into the distance. “No, there isn’t,” I replied.

Neither of us said anything as we watched the dragons from all over the city begin to fade from view. Another few minutes, and they were just more glowing stars in the night.

“I never thought I would see this again,” I murmured, the words nothing more than a breath on the night air. I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn’t look at him. My stare remained on the stars overhead. “Two days ago I was starving and freezing to death in a prison cell only a few floors below us, and now . . .” A sardonic smile touched my lips, and I shook my head. “It feels like a dream.”

“Fate can be cruel in one breath and kind in the next,” he mused, surprising me.

“Or the gods are simply having their fun with me,” I ventured.

He raised a dark brow. “I didn’t take you for the religious sort.”

I turned to find him studying me with an intense light, his eyes straying to my hair where it fell around my face.

I shrugged. “My mother was a believer. And it’s hard to witness a sight like tonight or see a dragon up close and not believe in something more.” The air between us grew weighted and heavy as he continued to watch me. Unnerved, I tried to lighten the mood. “Though I do save my prayers for the Gray Gods. One is a thief, after all.”

His lips twitched. “Why does that not surprise me?”

There were nine gods and goddesses that the people of Palasia worshiped. Three dark, three light, and three gray. The Gray Gods—The Trickster, The Crone, and The Thief—were those I favored. I liked to think I was a gray area type of person. I wasn’t evil, but I had done some bad things. I was a thief, and I wasn’t virtuous or perfect, though I tried to be kind and help others where I could. That was a hard thing to do sometimes in the slums, when I had to take care of myself first. So gray was where I lived and who I worshiped, and it had worked out all right for me so far. At least, until I had been thrown in prison.

After that happened, there had been some nights when I was particularly low where I prayed to each of the Nine, one at a time, over and over, not caring which of them heard me just so long as one of them did.

Trying to keep my mind off my grim thoughts, I asked, “What about you, Commander? What do you believe?”

He stared at me as I asked the question, any touch of humor now gone from his face. I wasn’t sure he would answer, but then he said, “I believe in myself and my dragon and what I can see with my own eyes.” He paused. “I believe I make my own choices and no god has anything to do with it.”

I nodded, feeling like that fell in line with what little I knew of him. There were a few more moments where neither of us said anything as we watched most of the partygoers begin to make their way back inside the ballroom. The musicians started to play again. The piece was slower though, an achingly beautiful waltz.

“Thank you,” I murmured, my voice breeching the silence that, surprisingly, had not grown stilted or awkward between us.

His eyes met mine again. “For?”

“For pardoning me.”

His expression again took on that unreadable mask. “I was planning to pardon you that day regardless, before . . .”

“Before a certain dragon dropped from the sky?” I finished with a wry laugh.

That faint grin I had seen a glimpse of before made an appearance. “Yes, before that.”

“Still,” I said, my tone slightly more serious, “thank you.”

Those devastating eyes regarded me as a faint breeze tickled my hair. His voice was deep and a little husky as he replied, “You’re welcome.”

Clearing my throat, I turned to face the castle gardens again, oddly thrilled and unnerved by that weighty stare. “That doesn’t mean I forgive you for throwing me in prison in the first place,” I stipulated, trying to lighten the strange tension between us. “Since you’re going to be my instructor, you should know that.”

He didn’t say anything for several moments, then replied, “I’m not seeking your forgiveness. I won’t apologize for doing my duty.”

I did turn to look at him then. “Fair enough.”