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

withdrawn. My sister, wanting nothing more than to have a life of her own, to be given an opportunity to make something of herself off the farm. I had to hope that she made it into Berestal and had been apprenticed to the weaver there. I had to hope that she had been successful.

“I know what it’s like to have family that holds you to a place,” I said softly. “It’s probably not the same, but it’s what I know.”

She nodded slowly. “Perhaps that’s all it is. Or something else.” She shrugged. “I learned to enjoy the travels,” she said. “Over time, I’d come to learn about each of the places that we were stationed, trying to understand the people there. I threw myself into that aspect of our travels, nothing more than that, and as my father had said, it was an attempt to make each place our home—as much as they could be. Some places are better than others. Like here, where the forest had once pushed around everything before relenting and letting men build.” She pushed out a smile. “It’s not like that everywhere. Some places are . . . different. In time, I started to find moving easier. Not easy. Just easier. I still wonder what it would’ve been like had I been raised with the Djarn.”

“Do you know them?”

“We visit with the people, but it’s not the same,” she said.

“Would they take you back?”

“I’m one of them, so they would welcome me.”

“Why do I get the sense that you’re uncertain?”

She glanced over, holding my gaze for a long moment. “Because I no longer know if that’s what I want.” We started walking, and the palace disappeared from view as we went down a narrower street. “I’ve been within the city long enough, all of the different cities, that perhaps I have become a part of the kingdom. It happened gradually. At first, it was a matter of not feeling welcome throughout our travels when I was younger. Over time, I began to see that we were met as outsiders simply because we weren’t from the places we traveled. Most places don’t deal well with those not from their land. Eventually, we were welcomed in a different way, and I felt increasingly a part of where we traveled and whom we visited.” She shook her head slowly. “Unfortunately, then we would move on. When we did, we would start all over again, and I felt the same each time. It was a process that involved me needing to become comfortable with my surroundings once again. It took a long time.”

“And then you came to the city here,” I said.

She nodded. “Then we came here. My father hasn’t been the Sharath all that long. I don’t know that he ever expected that promotion, but when it was offered to him, he felt as if he didn’t have any choice but to accept.”

“Has the Sharath always been one of the Djarn?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s just because of my father, or if it’s because the king prefers to keep one of the Djarn as the Sharath. Either way, there’s value in it.”

I had realized that right away. There was value, but partly because the king needed to maintain a level of peace with the Djarn. He couldn’t have somebody so close within the borders of the kingdom acting against his people. Not that the Djarn had shown any sign of acting against the king. In all the time that I had lived out in Berestal, out on the plains, the Djarn had been hidden and isolated, but had shown no signs of danger to the king or the people of the kingdom.

We continued making our way along the street, stopping near the broken remains of a building. I stared at it, recognizing it.

“This is where I found one of the vases.”

“I know,” she said.

“Did you bring me here because of that?”

“I have wondered why it was here,” she said softly. It seemed as if she were afraid to speak too loudly, not wanting the sound of her voice to carry out into the growing night. “There had to have been a reason.”

I knew there was a reason, but the problem was I didn’t know the reason itself. When Donathar had attacked, he had alluded to the fact that his people were targeting the city, intending to make it look as if the Vard had attacked, even though I had come to learn that wasn’t the case. Now I wondered what more I might be able to learn, and whether there was anything I might be able to do to ensure that another attack didn’t take place.

I’d been searching, looking through the Academy for evidence of additional infiltration, and trying to find the reason for the attack, but I hadn’t uncovered anything. Whatever reason there had been for Donathar to attack had proven elusive.

“I think it was here because the dragons were situated on each side of the city.”

“Perhaps,” she said.

“Why? What do you worry about?”

She looked over, a deep frown wrinkling her face. “I fear the knowledge they obtained.”

“About how to trap the power of the dragons?”

She nodded slowly. “They should not have known what they did. It’s Djarn knowledge.”

“Donathar had spent some time with your people. I suspect so he could steal that knowledge.”

“My people have studied connections to the dragons for as long as I have known. What you saw there was . . .” She shook her head, stepping forward and heading toward the remains of the building. “It doesn’t matter. None of this matters. All that matters is that we stopped them.”

“It matters to you.”

She looked over to me. “This is a problem for the Djarn, not for you,” she said.

“Thomas would have me believe this is a problem for the kingdom, which means I should be more concerned.”

“Not for the kingdom,” she said softly. She stared at the broken building and finally reached her hand out, tracing the stone. “This