The Lost Dragon (Cycle of Dragons Book 3) by Dan Michaelson (good summer reads .txt) 📗

flicked her gaze behind her, looking over to the Academy. “That’s not true.”

“Fine,” I said. “I don’t have anywhere that I want to go. Does that help?”

She offered a hint of a smile before it faded. “I suppose that’s understandable.”

I chuckled. “It’s not that bad. A few know I had some hand in what happened here before, though none other than Thomas know exactly what that was.”

Thankfully, Thomas had kept that secret. I wasn’t sure if I wanted anybody else to know what role I had, not while I was trying to be a part of the Academy. That might change in time, and as I continued to progress within the Academy, or perhaps outside of the Academy, it might not matter anymore, but for now I needed to try to fit in as much as I could.

We made our way down the street, neither of us saying anything. The street was broad and crowded; carts were stationed along it while merchants hawked their wares, and others pushed their carts ahead, shouting for shoppers to stop and purchase from them. Everything had a festival air to it, at least compared to what I had experienced in my hometown.

As we walked, I held on to the connection to the dragons—primarily through the green dragon, as I bonded to him most easily and he was closest to me.

“You’re better bonded to him than most,” Natalie said without looking over.

“You can tell?” When I’d first met her, she’d hidden her understanding of the dragons. I still didn’t know what she’d been doing around the pens other than trying to learn what was happening with the missing dragons.

She nodded slowly. “The very first time I met you, I recognized you had a connection that most don’t. Some within the city do, though given what they’ve done over the years, that’s not at all surprising. Even still, most don’t. It’s a strange thing. Perhaps it’s only because of the proximity to the dragons, or perhaps it’s something about the kingdom itself, but people’s connections to the dragons have shifted over time.”

I held on to what I could, and tried to see if the dragon shared anything with me. I couldn’t feel anything from him, though the connection remained solid between us. I had a vague awareness of him resting.

Each time I focused on the dragon, I could feel something different between us, some aspect of the dragon’s power that continued to flow, something that suggested to me there might be even more power available if I were to just grab at it. Unfortunately, I hadn’t yet. It was almost as if I needed to find some deeper understanding of the dragon, some way to tap into a part of the dragon connection I knew was there, but had yet to see and feel and know.

When I could, what would change for me? I didn’t know if it would grant me any greater understanding of the dragon himself, or if it would strengthen some aspect of my power.

“Can you reach for the dragon energy?” I asked Natalie. The question had lingered with me for a while. I hadn’t known for sure if she could, though I had my suspicions.

“I’m one of the Djarn,” she said softly.

I looked over to her, regarding her for a moment. The sun had started to set, and shafts of fading sunlight streamed along the ground, illuminating her face. She was quite lovely. I’d noticed her striking beauty the very first time I’d seen her, and had wondered who she was, why she had come to the dragon pen, and whether I’d muster enough courage to speak to her. Had I known then what I know now about her, I might not have.

She was an incredible woman, not only intelligent, but powerful in her own right.

“Do all of the Djarn have a connection to the dragons?”

“Most of us. In one form or another,” she said. “That is a trait of my people.”

“Does the king know?”

“Why do you think he keeps us here?”

“You say that as if you’re captives.”

She glanced over to me and shook her head. “Not captives. Not anything quite like that. We aren’t home though.” She turned and looked toward the center of the city, toward the palace itself. It loomed over much of the city, rising high above, so that the eye was drawn toward it. “When I was young, I often asked my father when we would return home, and he kept telling me that we were home.” She continued to stare, having paused in the street. There weren’t many people out in the section of the city we were in now, and though it was mostly homes, there were a few businesses. Some of them were distant from us, and the sound of music drifted along the street, carrying to my ears. It was sweet and melodic—almost peaceful and relaxing. “I told him we weren’t, that we couldn’t be. The kingdom was not for our people.”

“What did he say?” I asked softly.

She looked over to me and smiled sadly. “He told me I could go home, but with my mother having been gone for as long as she had been, I didn’t know that I had a home to go to. I didn’t know who would be there for me.”

“You have to have family there,” I said.

“Family, but it’s not the same as having my mom there.”

I nodded slowly. “I think I understand.”

“Do you?”

I frowned for a moment, thinking about my experience and my family—where they were and what they were going through. I had been away from them long enough now that I didn’t know what they might be dealing with.

Manuel’s update left me a bit worried about my sister and my family. My brother, suffering from an accident that had claimed his youth and vibrancy. My mother, so fatigued from caring for my family that she had changed, losing the compassion that I had known when I was younger, becoming something different, colder, and more