rear after they scoped ahead. That had been a long time ago. But it didn’t change the circumstances now.
She’d gotten herself into this mess. She could get herself out of it.
She snapped her fingers to conjure another small flame and shrieked. She jumped back, the flame going out.
There was something else in here.
Hello, Kerrigan of the House of Dragons.
Kerrigan shuddered. Her heart thundered in her chest at the voice speaking directly into her mind. A dragon. It was just a dragon.
She released her clenched fists and straightened. “Hello?”
It came out more of a question than anything.
Are you here for testing, child?
“I…”
Was she?
She had just wanted to see what was inside. She wasn’t eligible for testing. The Society had rules for the dragon tournament. One, a competitor must be eighteen years or older. Kerrigan had only just turned seventeen, but still. Two, a competitor must be a member of a tribe. In a week, she would be but not today. Three, a competitor must be sponsored. Yeah, she had a lot of doubts that anyone would want a half-Fae competing for a dragon. Especially considering the unspoken rule—Fae only.
I have not known you to be quiet, Kerrigan Argon.
She trembled at the use of her full name. Very few people knew her father was Kivrin Argon. Her other Dragon Blessed friends, of course. You couldn’t be friends with someone for longer than a decade without revealing your heritage. But outside of them and Helly, it was a closely guarded secret.
“Might I know who you are?” she squeaked.
Suddenly, the room filled with light. All of the bracketed torches ignited at once, and before her stood a great and towering beast. He was easily the size of a house. His shimmering black-and-gray scales muted in the flickering light. His powerful jaw leveled with her face.
It took all her self-control not to scream again.
“Gelryn,” she breathed faintly. “Gelryn the Destroyer.”
Aye, young halfling. I am Gelryn of Roan and Fryldran, dragon bound to Master Mexes of Erewa. May his ashes replenish the Great Mother.
Halfling. Kerrigan tasted the word with disgust. She knew Gelryn didn’t mean anything by it. He was ancient. One of the oldest dragons in existence. Older even, considering his rider had perished and he had survived. She hadn’t heard of any other dragon that had lived through that. One typically meant the fall of the other.
“My apologies, Gelryn,” Kerrigan said evenly, slowing her breathing. “I was startled. I didn’t know what to expect.”
You are here for testing. I have been expecting you.
She jumped. “You have? But I’m not eighteen.”
The rules of man do not govern me.
He puffed his chest up, and heat radiated throughout the room. She saw him stretch up to his great height. She had seen Gelryn before but not like this. Here, she could see him, the slayer of the Great War. The dragon of nightmares who had razed villages and slain other dragons. The dragon of legends.
“Of course not. I just… didn’t expect…” She trailed off again. If he had been expecting her, then she was meant to be here. If she had learned anything from her visions, it was that there was a great force guiding her hand. A fate or destiny that led the world on its path. How else could she see the future? “Yes, I’m here for testing.”
Good. Touch my snout, and we will begin.
Kerrigan stepped forward. She had spent much of her life around dragons. She knew their mannerisms and what they found offensive. She didn’t think that she had ever touched a dragon’s snout. With the young ones, it was too dangerous. They were still learning their fire. And with the older ones, they became sensitive to the touch.
Her fingers trembled, assessing the danger to herself. But Gelryn leveled one large eye upon her, and she gently rested her hand on his snout.
Her body convulsed at the first touch. Her eyes slammed shut. And then it felt as if someone had latched on to her ankle and was dragging her deep underwater. She gasped as she tried to get air in, but all she felt was the tug. Water seemed to fill her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. Gods, she couldn’t breathe.
Kerrigan began to struggle, to try to escape whatever was happening to her. She didn’t want this. She needed air.
Release your fight, child.
Kerrigan heard Gelryn’s voice, but it sounded murky. As if he were far above her. He wanted her to drown. To release and give in to this… death. But she’d been