The Betrayed Dragon (Cycle of Dragons Book 2) by Dan Michaelson (list of e readers .TXT) 📗

into Brandel, uncontrolled as it knocked him back against the wall.

He glared at me. “It’s going to be like that, is it?”

I shook my head. “I don’t need to deal with you like this right now.”

He snorted. “You’re going to have to deal with me eventually. When my father—”

“I don’t care about your father,” I said, and turned away, starting down the stairs.

It seemed to surprise him, and he didn’t follow, at least at first. I was afraid he might come storming after me, slamming up into my back, and send me flying down the stairs, but he didn’t.

I heard him and Cara talking to each other for a moment, neither of them saying anything loud enough that I could hear, though she seemed to be urging him to take action.

I reached the bottom of the stairs and glanced over my shoulder.

He was still there, glaring at me.

“We can do this later,” I said to him.

He snorted. “I know we will.”

I could only shake my head.

I wandered through the rest of the Academy, making my way to the main entrance, and pushed open the door. I expected it to be early, though having seen Brandel and Cara up and in the halls, I don’t know why I believed that would’ve been the case. Instead, bright sunlight shone down. It had to be nearly midday.

Could I really have slept that long?

I thought about how much ale I’d drunk the night before and realized I absolutely could have.

I headed toward the dragon pen, but didn’t see Thomas there.

When I reached the pen, I made my way around it, still feeling the connection to the green dragon. That power poured through me, almost a continuous cycle now, something I didn’t even have to hold on to the way that I had before. It was almost as if the dragon himself maintained it, keeping us bound together.

There was energy somewhere behind me.

I spun to see Thomas watching from the road outside of the Academy. He had his arms crossed over his chest, a look of irritation on his face. Power flickered from dragon to dragon, as Thomas connected to them, using his unique power and ability to do so. When he did, I could feel the reaction within the dragons, the way that they seemed to tremble each time he touched power within them.

Was Thomas aware of what he did?

I took a deep breath and headed over to him, trying to keep my feet under me.

“It took you long enough,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” I said. I looked up at the sky, at the brightness, and shook my head. “I shouldn’t have slept nearly this long,” I said.

He grunted. “No, you should not have.”

“I was out a bit late with a friend.” He didn’t need to know which one. I had no idea who her parents were, but didn’t want to get her in trouble.

“The festival,” he said.

I nodded. “The festival. I didn’t mean to stay out so late, but . . .”

He grunted. “I suppose that is understandable,” Thomas said, some of his irritation fading. “When I was younger, I enjoyed festivals as well, though I knew how to handle my ale a little bit better than it seems you do.”

I frowned. “I know how to handle my ale.”

He chuckled. “You don’t smell like you do.”

I lifted my shirt, sniffing it, but I couldn’t smell anything. Then again, Brandel had implied that I stank, so he was probably right. “Where are we going?”

“Into the city,” he said.

“Why?”

Thomas glanced over, shooting me a hard look. “Because there are other things you can assist with.”

I wasn’t sure if I liked the sound of that, but at this point, I had to focus mostly on trying to clear my head. Rather than arguing, I followed him as he made his way through the streets. I recognized some of the places from the night before, at least before I had started drinking. I didn’t hear any music, nothing like there had been the night before, but I could feel something.

“Where in the city are we going?” I asked, after we had been walking for a while. There was much more activity in the outskirts of the city now than there had been the night before—at least, until we had reached the throng of people that we’d found near the festival grounds.

“Just keep quiet,” Thomas said.

I followed him, and the shops began to space out a little bit, the street seemed to widen. The clothing of passersby became nicer the farther we went, and I flicked my gaze ahead of me, realizing where we were going.

“The palace?” I asked. It was time for me to report to the king.

He grunted. “At least you remain a little bit observant.”

I rubbed my temples again, trying to shake off the vestiges of the ale. Breathing deeply, quickly, I tried to clear my head.

“Why now?” I asked.

He grunted. “When the king summons, we answer.”

“The king summoned me?”

Thomas glanced over to me. “Not you, boy. Me.”

Too many thoughts tried to go through my head—and failed.

I frowned at him. “I’m not a boy.”

“When you stay out drinking ale, you are.”

I grunted. I thought about how disappointed my father would have been to learn of me staying out so late, not getting up first thing in the morning, basically abandoning my responsibilities. He’d taught me to do better. To be better. Of course, when working on a farm, there was no real way to abandon chores. Sleeping in had the effect of tormenting the animals, and I had learned early on that if I were to do anything that would harm the animals, my father would get angry with me.

Not that I blamed him. As I got older, I had come to appreciate the logic of it. We relied upon the animals for our well-being, so with everything that we did, I’d learned to treat them with a measure of respect.

Even now, I felt the same about the dragons. Perhaps that was how I was different