Chantal followed Maya through the halls to the kitchens, her stomach grumbling at the thought of food. Even though it’d only been a few days, it felt like years since she’d had a full meal. As they reached the ground floor, mouth-watering aromas tickled her nose. Her stomach rumbled so loudly she expected it to echo down the hall.

  Maya pushed the kitchen doors open to reveal the activity and noise of Reiont’s kitchens. Chantal followed, watching the cooks. Maya apologized for interrupting before asking an elderly lady for a basket with enough food for two. The woman nodded and waddled toward the huge ovens on legs almost too thin to support her plump figure.

  “Here,” Maya said as she took a couple of Raesh cakes from the cooling racks and handed them to Chantal. “These will tide you over until we get where we’re going.”

  “You’re sure?” Chantal asked. “They don’t look happy.”

  Maya turned her attention to the scowling kitchen hands preparing cakes for the ovens. The young women looked down and blushed under her gaze. “You can take them from Lanre and my share if you’re so worried about the number,” she said. “It wouldn’t do for the king’s granddaughter to faint of hunger.”

  The kitchen workers' blush deepened. They redoubled their efforts filling the pans with cake batter and the spiced fruit and nut stuffing. Chantal nodded before biting into the first cake. It was warm, soft, buttery, and spicy, and she had to fight to keep from eating it too fast. They were a favorite of hers, served only on holidays or events like coronations and weddings. She’d never had one fresh from the oven before.

  The old woman returned, struggling with the weight of the large basket she carried. Maya thanked her as she took the basket and shook her head.

  “You’re trying to make me fat before my wedding, Tatia.” Maya accused.

  “Impossible,” the cook responded. “You’re too skinny.”

  Maya chuckled and bid Tatia good day before she led Chantal out of the kitchens. They rounded another corner to find two enormous doors stretching floor to ceiling. Each bore a snarling dragon, carved into the wood with intricate detail. The dragons stood rampant; their serpentine tails curled around the sphere like a shield. The image seemed familiar, but Chantal couldn’t remember where she’d seen it before.

  The bubbling bass voice of a male dragon rose somewhere across the courtyard as Maya pulled one of the doors open. Other powerful voices joined in as Chantal followed Maya out into the throbbing air. Maya added her mezzo-soprano to the chorus while they strode across the massive courtyard toward a set of Yekaran apartments.

  The complex door and most of the apartment doors within stood open in the heat. The last notes of the song echoed off the walls of the wide corridor as Maya entered. The older woman exuded a confidence Chantal found impossible to imitate. She had never been near a dragon, but she remembered seeing her father’s companion from a distance. Could something so powerful, so fearsome, be intelligent and friendly? The stories she’d read and heard never seemed to agree, and her father had always refused to speak about them. Still unconvinced but overcome by her curiosity, Chantal followed Maya into the gloom.

  The apartment they entered was little more than one huge, sparsely furnished room. A two-drawer chest stood in the far right corner; a lantern sitting on top provided the only light. A Yekaran lounged on an overstuffed mattress to the left of the room. He lay shrouded in shadow, but his size was unmistakable. A cold shiver skittered down Chantal’s spine as she craned her neck back to meet the glint of his eyes in the dim room. He was still, lying there with one foreleg crossed over the other and wings folded and tucked close to his sides. A grin spread across his expressive face, exposing rows of dagger-like teeth that caught the light. Chantal's gut clenched at the sight.

  “Mein, mein Tricon. Mah eh gleo us es no.” Maya teased.

  Chantal could not understand the words, but they sounded familiar. Was this the Yekaran language?

  “Micht das mention jiu wo lai shuo’ aber scias ay’h veil trioblóid es statuatis mahti venias se undisonus.”

  “Paentieo, Maya,” the dragon answered with another fearsome grin. “Venbat eh wenig vebat inithe.”

  Chantal gulped when his attention turned toward her and startled when he began speaking in Terran.

  “Who is this?” he asked.

  “Tricon, this is Chantal,” Maya said as she urged Chantal closer. “She’s Ralic’s daughter. Chantal, this is Tricon, my Yekaran companion.”

  “My greetings to you, Chantal,” Tricon answered with a bow before turning his attention to the basket Maya carried. “I’m guessing you’d like to fly out to the beach for your midday meal?”

  “How’d you guess?” Maya answered, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth. “Chantal is without a companion, so Aligh suggested she meet the hatchlings,” she explained. “I thought it would be good for her to learn a bit more about your people before making the choice. Besides, I’ve never heard you turn down the chance for a good hunt.”

  “God bless you,” he answered with an exaggerated sigh. “Any excuse to get away from Deligh for a while!”

  Maya giggled.

  “I’d love a trip, but I’m covered in dust after helping the planters this morning. Would you mind if I took a moment to clean up?”

  Maya nodded and moved out of the dragon’s way. Chantal wasn’t far behind and stood watching in awe as the large reptile rose from the mattress. Lying down, his shoulders had been about as high as a retesh, but he stood almost twice as tall again. His neck was slender and long in proportion when compared to a human. Perhaps the horned frill arching back from his skull made his head appear larger and heavier than it was. It was impossible to tell much about his wings, tucked back and in around his sides as they were. From what she could see, they looked like leathery hide rather than the feathered wings of a bird. Though his feet and the way he carried his weight on the front of his digits reminded her of a raptor.

  His grace and the fluidity of his movements amazed her. She’d assumed Yekarans would be awkward, lumbering beasts because of their bulk. She’d been wrong! As he walked into the sunlight, Chantal could see his coloring was a rather dull, rusty brown. She felt disappointed, having hoped the shadows had been hiding one of the myriad of colors dragons could boast.

  Maya followed Tricon and motioned for Chantal to come along. She fell into step beside Maya, questions multiplying in her mind as her awe and fear seeped away.

  “What were you saying before?” Chantal asked. “I didn’t recognize any of the words you were using. Were you speaking the Yekaran language?”

  “I teased Tricon about making so much noise, and he apologized for getting carried away.” Maya answered her with an amused smile. “And, yes, we were using Yekaran. It’s a tradition of ours to greet each other in the language.”

  “How’d you learn it?” Chantal asked. “I’ve never heard more than snippets.”

  “It’s taught like any other subject,” Maya answered. “But, I learned more from speaking it with Tricon and his family growing up. Weren’t you taught it?”

  “No,” Chantal answered, unable to hide how defensive the question made her. “Tembar doesn’t have many dealings with Yekarans; perhaps my father didn’t think it was necessary.”

  Chantal started to ask when she’d met Tricon, but then Maya grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She forgot her question as she started to protest, but the warning look on Maya’s face stopped her. The older woman nodded toward Tricon and, still confused, Chantal turned her attention to the dragon. The world seemed to slow as she watched.

  Tricon stopped at the other end of the courtyard and spread his wings. Folds of leathery hide spread taught between ribbings like huge fingers. His wingspan was more than fifteen meters! The drake’s head turned and his chest dipped toward the ground pulling air into his lungs with a nasal whine. A plume of fire erupted from Tricon's mouth and rolled down the full length of his body. The flames overheated the already oppressive air, which now carried the stench of scorched dust.

  Chantal lowered the arms she’d raised to shield her face, blinking her eyes to clear them of tears. A thin layer of fog formed around Tricon. The sight became difficult to dismiss as she heard condensation hiss over fire-treated scales. The fog burned away, leaving the once dull scales and hide an amazing rose-tinged gold gleaming in the sun. He pulled his wings back to his sides and proceeded to the wall where several saddles hung, leaving Chantal standing agape.

  “What just happened?” she asked.

  “Yekarans take fire baths,” Maya answered.

  “I meant the mist,” Chantal clarified as she turned toward the noblewoman, trying and failing to keep from glaring. Maya hadn’t answered her question, and Chantal doubted the woman was ignorant of the fact. “Where did it come from?” she asked and winced at the accusing tone.

  “The air around us,” Maya answered. “This close to the Deep, there’s almost always a high level of humidity. I slowed the water molecules around Tricon’s body, causing them to condense into mist.”

  “No!” Chantal whispered, taking a step back from Maya. She thought she’d escaped such beings once leaving Tembar Flats. “You’re the Grand Lady. You can’t be another monster like Brance!”

  “I’m not,” Maya answered, raising her hands in a placating gesture. “I was born this way, as were many other Terrans. The mineral Ralic blames for making Brance the way he is causes some people to be born with abilities. So many in fact, there are laws governing the use of those abilities.”

  Maya took a step toward her, and Chantal backed away. It couldn’t be true. She was lying. Everyone always lied to her.

  “Aligh isn’t the highest authority in Tekar,” Maya continued. Her tone was pleading. Chantal knew the woman was trying to calm her down; she both welcomed it and resented her for patronizing. “There are councils whose only job is to train individuals to control their ‘talents’ and govern how they’re used. Anyone who dares break the laws the councils set in place is subject to the harsh justice they’re known for dealing out. Not even Aligh could protect me if I used my gift to harm another person.”

  Chantal calmed somewhat. Maya seemed to relax in response.

  “I have much to explain to you, and I will once we get to the beach. I didn’t mean to frighten you, and I swear I won’t use my abilities around you again if they make you uncomfortable.” She paused. “Well, unless a storm’s about to blow us all away. I do have a sense of self-preservation, and I’m partially responsible for the safety of those in Reiont.”

  “Is that what you use your abilities for?” Chantal asked. “Protecting people from the transition storms?”

  Maya nodded. “I can’t stop them. Alone, I can only cause minor changes. I can alter the conditions enough to weaken storms or induce enough rain to keep the crops from frying in a drought. It’s what people with my talent train to do. It’s the same with the other groups, especially the water keepers and thermals. Otherwise, we Terrans wouldn't have lasted on Yekara.”

  “What do you mean?” Chantal asked. She shivered. “Water Keepers and Thermals… What does that even mean?” She scoffed and raised her hands to rub at her temples. Was her entire worldview wrong? She was getting a headache! “You talk like we came from the stars.”

  “Did Ralic keep you from learning any of our history?” Maya asked.

  Chantal felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. She dropped her hands from her temples and crossed her arms over her chest. “My tutors focused on math and science.” She grimaced at the squeak in her voice.

  Maya sighed. “We’ll fill the gaps in your education later, but in short, yes. We’re not native to Yekara. That’s why utronumite affects us the way it does.”

  “I’m ready, Maya,” Tricon called.

  Chantal turned to see Tricon waiting. He wore a double saddle around his neck, just above where his wings and shoulders met. It was a marvel one of their ancestors had designed strong buckles the Yekarans could work.

  “Can you trust me enough to come along?” Maya asked.

  Chantal nodded, still clutching her sides. She was trembling so hard she felt as if she’d shake to pieces. “But, I want some questions answered once we get there.”

  “Sure,” Maya agreed and reached for the riding straps as Tricon eased down onto his belly. The stirrup was still just below Maya’s waist, but she slid her foot into the loop and pulled herself into the saddle.

  Chantal knew she was only a few centimeters shorter than the diminutive woman, but she doubted she’d manage with ease. Maya seemed to notice her reluctance.

  “It helps to put a hand on his shoulder for balance while you make sure your foot is secure in the stirrup,” Maya suggested. “Then, grab the saddle and use it to pull yourself up while pushing against the stirrup.”

  Chantal nodded and wedged her foot into the stirrup. She hauled herself up, but she overbalanced when she tried to swing her leg over and barely managed to catch herself.

  “It’s a bit more difficult than riding a retesh,” said Maya. “It takes everyone a few tries.”

  Chantal tried and failed two more times before she found the balance she needed to clamber on, even with Maya’s help. Maya congratulated her before proceeding to instruct her in flying safety.

  Chantal found the thick leather belts attached to the back of the double saddle and secured herself. The riding skirt felt cumbersome. It bunched up during her less-than-graceful ascension into the saddle, but she dared not shift for fear of falling. After she'd secured herself in the saddle, moving more than a couple of centimeters was impossible. But the secure feeling made her less nervous about flying atop a great beast she’d just met.

  “I’m as ready as I’m going to get,” said Chantal. “I think,” she mumbled.

  Maya nodded before leaning toward Tricon’s massive head. “Take it easy today, friend. Chantal’s never ridden before.”

  Chantal heard him snort and saw his horn-tipped frill move as he nodded. Under the saddle, the muscles of Tricon’s long neck flexed. She could feel the movement and hear the plate-like scales scraping the saddle’s underside.

  She and Maya rocked backward when Tricon shifted his weight off his forelegs. A startled squeak escaped Chantal's throat, and she clutched the riding straps like a lifeline. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. The safety harness held fast without giving in the least, and it was reassuring.

  The great shoulder muscles bunched behind the saddle as Tricon spread his wings high over their heads, and he leapt. The force of it surprised Chantal, forcing air out of her lungs in a sudden grunt. Tricon’s wings stretched with a snap that seemed thunderous to Chantal on that first downstroke.

  Thirty strokes had them above the castle walls, and he kept climbing higher. It was amazing and dizzying all at once. Chantal closed her eyes until she felt their flight level out before peeking again.

  It was as if everything dropped away. Nothing existed except the three of them and the sky, with the forest rushing by beneath them and the mountains ahead. It took Chantal a moment to remember to breathe.

  Tricon carried them over the forest and between two mountains. The second summit had sheared off in places, leaving a cliff sheltering a stretch of beach beneath. Once they were over it, Tricon glided around in a gentle circle.

  The Yekaran brought them to what looked like a picnic area. There was a fire pit flanked by oblong boulders and one that looked almost like a dragon-sized plate. As they neared the ground, Tricon shifted his angle and backwinged into a soft landing that left him ankle-deep in the sand.

  Chantal undid the straps with a minimum of fumbling once he’d settled down onto his belly. She swung her leg over and misjudged the distance to the ground. Luckily a sandy beach was a much more comfortable place to fall than a paved courtyard. Tumbling onto her rear from the back of an adult male dragon only damaged her pride.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Are you okay?” Maya asked.

  “Nothing’s hurt,” Chantal answered as she scrambled to stand. She busied herself in removing as much sand as she could while Maya climbed down. Then she helped Maya pull the basket from the saddle bag. How had she missed Tricon taking it from Maya?

  Chantal followed Maya toward the fire pit and the two oblong stones placed on either side of it. She heard Tricon shift behind them. She looked back. He fumbled with the saddle buckles as he grabbed onto one of the branches of a scraggy tree with his tail. It pulled away from the tree with a snap, leaving a gaping scar behind. Tricon freed himself of the saddle and stowed it in a tiny cave part way up the cliff face.

  Chantal giggled at the sight of Tricon using the branch like a backscratcher. She supposed they weren’t the most comfortable things for a Yekaran to wear. They must itch after a while if Tricon's actions were anything to go by.

  “Help me clear this,” Maya said, and Chantal pulled her attention away from the dragon. She hadn’t noticed from the air, but the fire pit was full of debris washed in with the tides. Maya had knelt to begin clearing it, and Chantal stooped to help.

  Several loud snaps sounded behind them. Chantal guessed Tricon had decided to use his backscratcher as kindling. When they finished clearing the site, he was waiting for them with one foreclaw holding the branch in six pieces. He dropped them into the pit before returning to gather more wood.

  The trio worked together, and soon, they had a small fire. Tricon retrieved an old-looking metal spit kit from one of the small caves and washed it in the ocean. Chantal and Maya assembled it, and soon the little kettle packed in the basket hung over their growing fire.

  “Why don’t you gather yourself some sea greens, Tricon,” Maya suggested.

  “I’d rather not,” the dragon answered. “We've had them for seven days straight.” Chantal watched, surprised dragons were capable of whining like human children. “Your choice: fried, baked, or stewed,” he continued in what Chantal guessed was an impression of someone.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t notice your flame is off-color?” Maya scolded. “You’ve been pushing part of your share on the young ones again, haven’t you?”

  Chantal blinked at the sight of Tricon lowering his eyes as he nodded like a guilty child. Her focus bounced between the dragon and Maya. Was this what the relationship between companions was like?

  “If I know you, you’ll want to have a good hunt this afternoon,” Maya continued. “You’re going to need enough of a flame to cook your kill. That will lower your utronumite levels even more. A nice salad will replenish your supply, but I also want you to gather enough for me to make a stuffing for you.”

  Chantal marveled at the nerve it must take her to scold and lecture such a large, powerful being. Then she saw the look in Maya’s eyes soften. There was a concern there that spoke more of a familial relationship than one of an owner toward their beloved pet.

  “If something does happen, I want you to have a strong blue center,” Maya admonished. Then she smirked. “It wouldn’t do to set a bad example.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Tricon agreed. Then, he turned toward the water. He scooped out two bundles of a long, thick plant Chantal presumed were sea greens. He placed them on the third polished boulder that reminded Chantal of a dragon-sized plate. He gestured toward Maya in a way that seemed like a Yekaran bow. His expressions were difficult to read, but she was almost sure he was being cheeky. She was still trying to puzzle out the scene when he took to the air again.

  “You seem comfortable around him.”

  “Of course I am,” Maya said, giving her a penetrating frown that left Chantal uneasy. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “He’s so big,” Chantal said. “So powerful.”

  “Oh, he’d never hurt me,” Maya replied as she stood from where she’d been sitting on the opposite boulder. Chantal watched as Maya walked over to the greens Tricon had left behind. “We’ve been friends since he was two days out of the shell.”

  “Oh?” Chantal sighed. “You’re older than he is then? I got the impression it was the other way around.”

  “That depends on your point of view.” Maya laughed as she sorted through the greens. “In human terms, he’s twelve, but Yekarans mature at a different rate than we do. For them, being twelve years old translates to roughly twenty-six.” She stopped to regard Chantal with a smile.

  “Will you stir the stew, Chantal?” Maya asked. “After that, you may want to watch Tricon. He’ll start his hunt soon.”

  Tricon loved hunting from this spot on the cliffs above the picnic alcove. The view was perfect. It was one of the reasons he and Maya preferred this spot to any of the others within reach of the castle.

  He scanned the waters, looking for the characteristic shadow of a shralankce pod. The waters here lay on the migration routes of the large, black-skinned fish, making for prime hunting.

  A glinting off to the southwest caught his attention. He focused on the spot and found what looked like a shadow dancing under churning waters. The area was free of crags that far out, so the chances of it being a shralankce pod were high. It looked like a small group feeding on a cloud of the translucent fish the humans nicknamed “bubble fish.”

  Tricon backed several meters from the edge of the ledge and ran into a gliding takeoff. He thrilled in the feel of the wind rushing over him. It was freeing, flying without a rider and saddle. He could use maneuvers he didn’t dare with Maya on his back in less than full battle gear.

  Tricon pulled his wings in, folding them close to his sides, and went into a dive parallel to the cliff face. He plunged headlong toward the rubble left by the crumbled summit and the waves crashing against the wall of ragged shards. A rush of primal emotion swept through him, and Tricon reveled in it before unfurling his wings again. The membranes stretched tight enough to verge on pain as Tricon missed impaling himself on the rocks by less than a meter.

  He pumped his wings, enjoying the slight burn he was starting to feel from the day’s exertion. Transition had been bad this year, and no longer being grounded by torrential rains was a relief.

  Once Tricon was at a good altitude again, he decided to play a bit before he pounced. He folded his left wing against his side and went into a roll. The spin was faster than anticipated, and he stretched the wing to abort. The result was clumsy, and Tricon decided it would be best to leave the acrobatics until he’d recovered his full strength. Just over two weeks out of hibernation, his muscles were still weak and stiff. He felt a minor strain and knew he’d been lucky not to injure one of his wing joints with such a sloppy pullout. It wouldn’t do to strand them all.

  He’d have to make time to practice in the next few days. Otherwise, he’d embarrass himself during Lanre and Maya’s wedding celebrations. Or, worse, he’d be too sore to move the next day.

  Tricon turned his attention back to his prey. He was close now. The pod still resembled nothing more than a large, undulating shadow under sea foam, but he could tell it was a tiny pod. They were a social species, dependent on large numbers for safety, so such a small group was odd.

  Once he reached the pod, Tricon went into a lazy figure eight to observe the feeding shralankce. The minuscule pod of five was easy enough to fly over while avoiding their dorsal heat pits.

  He regarded the five, looking for the weakest among them. They were probably part of a larger group, perhaps siblings who’d broken from the main pod to help a sick or wounded brother.

  What a pity. This wasn’t so much a hunt as it was a culling. The shralankce were less careful of threats from above after centuries of diminished hunting. And their attention was completely focused on decimating the school of fish they'd found. The challenge the word hunt implied wasn’t there. No, this was more like a service to the species. He’d butcher the injured, leaving the whole to return to the main pod. He was lucky, the weak one appeared injured instead of diseased. It favored its right side. Tricon glided lower for a better look.

  A chunk of a medium-sized male's right pectoral fin was missing. Long, angry gashes slashed the ebony hide with red outlined in white. It looked like he’d gotten into the crags near the cove, likely due to the last storm, judging by the freshness of the wound. Even if it avoided infection, it would never fully heal.

  Tricon dove.

  Maya was chopping some of the greens for Tricon’s stuffing when she heard Chantal gasp. She glanced up to see the girl’s pale, horror-stricken face. Maya turned to see what had Chantal so upset and found Tricon pulling out of a dive at the last possible second. When would he tire of doing that? He’d received two deep gashes along the underside of his tail when he’d cut it too close once as a youngling, and yet he persisted.

  “He’s such a child sometimes,” she commented half to herself as she returned to preparing the greens. “Tatia packed three large onions, I believe.” Maya waved toward the food. “Could you hand them to me, please?”

  Chantal made a humming sound and nodded. Maya watched as the teenager tried to find the onions and watch Tricon hunt all at once. She managed to tear her attention away from Tricon once he began circling.

  Maya knew from experience the most dramatic moment of the hunt was imminent. She didn’t want to draw Chantal’s attention to it. The girl was skittish enough around him, afraid of his size and appearance. She didn’t need to see Tricon make the kill.

  “Thank you,” Maya said as she accepted the onions. She saw Tricon scooping a shralankce from the water as she started peeling the first one. Chantal took one of the others and watched Maya’s movements before mimicking them.

  “What did he catch?” Chantal asked.

  Maya watched Tricon, remembering how strange she’d once found the sight of a Yekaran carrying their prey. Shralankce were odd-looking creatures with elongated bodies, disproportionate fins, and triangular heads. “It’s called a shralankce.”

  “Will it feed him? It’s huge, but it seems small compared to Tricon.”

  “The Yekar, for all their human-like qualities, are reptilian,” Maya explained. “They don’t need as much food, as often, in proportion to their weight as we do. A Yekaran of Tricon’s size eats a meal that size every three to four days unless they’ve been unusually active.”

  Chantal peeled while Maya chopped in silence. Chantal frowned with a faraway look in her eyes. Maya could feel the confusion and curiosity coming from her.

  “So, have the Yekarans been more active lately?”

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  “Tricon said they’d eaten seagreens every day this week.”

  “Oh.” Maya thought back for a moment. She’d forgotten about that part of the conversation. “Sea greens and other vegetables native to Yekara factor into the Yekaran diet more like a tonic than a meal. It’s all about vitamins and minerals. Vegetables don’t do much to slack hunger for them.”

  “Why is it so important?”

  “The native vegetables are rich in utronumite, which is essential to all species native to Yekara. It helps them maintain homeostasis throughout the winter.” Maya reached for the last onion. “Disease-related deaths and hibernation failure among Yekarans was a lot higher before the crash. Now we ensure a full crop of fresh greens awaits them when the Yekarans come out of hibernation.”

  “So, it’s not because you’re expecting a confrontation with my father?” Chantal asked. Her eyes were downcast, and Maya could feel a confusing swirl of emotion coming from her. Anger, sadness, and disappointment were chief among them.

  “No,” Maya answered. “It’s routine to help them regain their strength after hibernating.”

  “What’s going to happen to him?”

  Maya finished chopping the last onion and mixed it in with the greens. Then she went to the water's edge, mulling over her next words. She could feel the raw emotion rolling off the young girl. She didn’t need her abilities to tell Chantal was starting to feel guilty for turning her father in.

  “It depends on the evidence,” she began. She bent to rinse her hands, using the distance to choose her wording with care before shaking off the seawater and returning to the fire. “If there’s enough, a judge will swear out a search warrant. Men will be sent to conduct a full investigation, and Ralic may be taken to trial.”

  “I know that,” Chantal groused. “I meant if he’s found guilty.”

  “I wish I could say, but there are so many ways a trial can go.”

  “Fine!” Chantal huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Tell me about the other people like you then.”

  “What do you want to know?” Chantal started to respond, but all that escaped was a squeak as Tricon returned with his cleaned and charred lunch. His landing kicked up a lot of sand, and she hadn’t noticed him returning. She coughed and sputtered as she tried to brush off the sand.

  “Good hunt, I see,” greeted Maya.

  “More like culling. It was a fracture pod, there to aid this wounded one.”

  “Ah well, good for you, and good for the pod then.” Maya giggled at the sight of Tricon rolling his large, brown eyes. She motioned toward the stuffing and drying greens. “The rest of your meal is over there.”

  Chantal had taken out the bowls while Maya spoke with Tricon and was ladling out the stew. Maya retrieved the canteen and dug around in the basket to find the spoons.

  “As for the others like me, Chantal, there’s too much to tell in one afternoon,” Maya said. “I'll just give you the basics, and then you can ask questions as you think of them?”

  Chantal nodded her agreement as she savored the warm stew.

  “Alright then.” Maya paused to think.

  “There are Weather Watchers, like me. They can make minor changes in the weather. They’re responsible for taming transition storms, blizzards, and droughts.” Maya ate a few bites of her cooling stew. She watched Chantal consider the information and continued at Chantal’s nod.

  “Then there are the Water Keepers who have an innate sense of where the water is, and they always know how much is there. They’re in charge of making sure water gets where it needs to go. They do a lot of work with the Thermals, who are immune to burns from fire and can control fire and heat to some extent. They keep the wildfires under control and are a tremendous help training young Yekarans.”

  Tricon snorted and chuckled, rolling a slice of charred shralankce around the stuffing. “It helps having trainers who are as fire retardant as their students,” he mumbled.

  Maya turned her attention back to Chantal before he took the first bite. She loved Tricon as if he were a big, scaly brother, but she hated seeing him eat. Unfortunately, she’d forgotten to warn Chantal. The younger woman paled as Maya heard the distinctive sound of a Yekaran’s teeth tearing into meat.

  “Then there are the Telepaths,” Maya continued. “They’re one of the most numerous groups. No one’s sure why, but a lot of the scientists believe it is the simplest mutation.” She shrugged.

  “Telekinetics can move objects under a certain size short distances with their minds. It’s a quirky mutation and rare. And finally, there are the Talent Seers. Their name's rather self-explanatory.”

  “People with such power are everywhere?” Chantal asked. The look of horror was still there, if muted. “And, they’re born with it?”

  “Yes,” Maya answered. “They are found and trained young. Strict laws are in place to govern their use. All those with such talents know the laws and consequences for breaking them.”

  “And people with these powers, people like you, are afraid to cross these councils and their laws?”

  “The councils adopted harsh penalties for breaching laws and protocol long ago,” Maya answered. “None have crossed them more than once.”

  Chantal seemed to consider the information for a moment. She nodded and focused her attention on her bowl. From some of the things Chantal had said earlier, Maya knew the day's events had torn the younger woman’s worldview to shreds. She remembered the feeling. The conflicting emotions she sensed swirling around the girl reinforced her suspicions. Chantal teetered on the edge of an emotional breakdown.

  Those first weeks after coming to Reiont, Maya’s world turned on its ear. She’d wanted to run home and hide so many times. Was it the same for Chantal? Was she tempted to return home, or did the fear of her father make matters worse for her? If Maya remembered one thing, it was that the attempts of virtual strangers to comfort her only made her long for home more. So she held her peace until Chantal finished her first bowl of stew and asked if she wanted more.

  “No, please take the rest if you like,” Maya answered. “I know you must be hungry.”

  So much needed asking, but how should she broach the subject? The last thing Maya wanted was to make Chantal feel as if she was being interrogated. That would only shut the girl down and destroy the tentative trust they were building, but she couldn’t coddle her either. If what she’d seen was real, there was a chance she knew what happened to Borcon and Kalie. What were the chances Ralic was holding them captive these past two months? If they were there and still alive, they wouldn’t have long left if she’d managed to spook Ralic this morning. Though, if Chantal followed her to the edge of Tembar, she would have heard the keening too.

  “When I was at Tembar this morning, I heard something familiar,” Maya said. The sudden surge of nerves broaching the subject caused her throat to spasm. “I thought it sounded a lot like a Yekaran keening, but there hasn’t been a Yekaran living in Tembar for years.”

  Tricon inclined his head toward Maya. She swallowed hard, knowing she’d caught his attention as well. He’d been frantic when he woke from hibernation to find his older brother and Kalie's entire party missing. He'd joined the continuing search parties once he’d regained enough strength to fly. But the Yekarans had no more luck finding traces of them than Reiont’s investigators did. He’d put up a good front, knowing Borcon wouldn’t want him to worry, but it was a brittle fa?ade.

  “No, there’s one there,” Chantal answered without looking up from her stew. “A big black Yekaran with a cream underbelly came in with a couple of women about two months ago.”

  Maya’s posture stiffened, and her heartbeat doubled. Tricon gasped and dropped the bit of meat and stuffing he’d just rolled to his makeshift plate, and it fell with a splattering plop. Their gazes met, and if Yekarans were capable of looking pale, Tricon was in that moment.

  “Oh God, please no,” Maya prayed.

  Chantal looked at them. Her eyes went from their faces to the meat and stuffing scattered over Tricon’s plate.

  “Does that mean something to you?” she asked.

  “Perhaps,” Maya answered. Her hands shook, causing her to squeeze her bowl so hard her knuckles blanched. “Can you tell me anything about the women?”

  “Not much,” Chantal answered. “I saw them once from a distance.” The girl paused, concentration creasing her brow. “I heard something outside during my lesson. Gresha and I went to the window and looked out into the courtyard. The soldiers were chaining the dragon down.

  “I thought it was strange because the dragon should have been deep in hibernation, but it was out in the open. It was looking at the two women. One was tall with blond hair, and Falcon, another of father’s creations like Brance, was holding her. A smaller, dark-haired woman stood behind them.”

  Tricon keened and looked off across the water. Maya watched him dig his talons into the sand to control his reaction and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from tearing up in sympathy. He’d been fearful for his elder brother’s life from the moment he woke out of hibernation and heard what happened. To learn Borcon was taken captive at his weakest and chained was infuriating.

  “Who are they?” Chantal’s voice broke on the question, and her eyes darted between dragon and companion. “You recognize them.”

  “Yes.” Maya swallowed hard against the tightening of her throat and laid her bowl to her side. “They match the description of a party that went missing during a blizzard two months ago. They’d left to visit a family member reported dying. The Yekaran had left instructions to be roused if his companion decided to leave the castle.

  “Please,” Maya pleaded, “tell us what happened next.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know,” Chantal said. She’d gone pale as she listened to Maya’s explanation, and her voice was sorrowful. “Gresha pulled me away from the window. She said we were wasting time and that I needed to return to my lessons. The Yekaran started howling soon after.” Chantal’s attention fell to her stew, and she used her spoon to push a few bits of meat and vegetables around in the broth. “I never saw any of them after that day, but I heard the Yekaran keening and howling pretty often. I overheard some guards complaining about having to stand watch over him.”

  Maya fought to keep from hyperventilating and blinked back tears. It sounded like they’d killed Kalie right in front of poor Borcon. Why? Why would they do such a thing?

  “What exactly did they say?” Tricon asked. His voice wavered, and he clawed at the sand.

  Chantal seemed to fold in upon herself under Tricon’s observation. “First, they were just surprised he wouldn’t go back into hibernation,” she answered. “Then they started complaining about guarding or feeding him because he was loud and aggressive.”

  Tricon keened in the back of his throat again. “Did he draw blood?”

  Chantal shook her head. “I don’t believe so, no.”

  Maya and Tricon both sagged in relief. There seemed no hope Kalie still lived, but perhaps a glimmer remained for Borcon. Tricon looked at his food in disgust before grabbing it and tossing the remains into the sea for scavengers to feast upon. Chantal looked as if she’d lost her appetite as well.

  “Why don’t we clear up here and head back?” Maya said as she started gathering up dishes. “We need to get you settled, and Tricon and I have reports to make.”