contain a pleased trill. It was good to have friends.
Touching another map, Kyrie skimmed a neighboring list. “You are training battlers?”
“Yes. Brother chose these battlers for their potential as trackers.”
“And you are their teacher?”
“They are learning basic skills.” Torloo began to gather up loose pages. “I will send them to my brothers before long.”
Kyrie took a step back and courteously averted his eyes. Torloo hadn’t said anything, but his body language made it obvious—at least to Kyrie—that there were secrets strewn across the table. He only felt a little guilty at mentally reviewing the information he’d already acquired.
Poison.
Sway.
Camouflage.
Ambush.
Torloo appeared to be teaching these battlers about tracking dragons. And Sinder was obviously helping them, which is why he’d been injured. But … was it only tracking? The equipment lists included a terrifying spectrum of offensive sigilcraft, hypodermic darts, and crystal tagging.
If these were battler games, they were extremely dangerous ones.
Why would the Elderboughs be hunting dragons?
Timur batted his way past the netting and offered a gruff greeting. Fend shadowed his steps and disappeared under the table.
Torloo took a receptive posture and asked, “Is there more to this than the reunion of friends?”
“Yes.” Kyrie summed up his desire to be assessed, then asked, “Where is Reveille?”
“Waiting outside,” said Timur. “He doesn’t need to know everything in order to keep you safe. I can’t tell you everything, either, but no one can question my right to talk about myself.”
Kyrie stood a little straighter and positioned his hands to promise secrecy.
Timur dropped to one knee before him, putting them more on a level. “To be clear, your Dad knows about me, as do Mum and Papka. But I don’t think Ginkgo has all the particulars. Just what he’s gleaned from watching me with Sinder. And neither do any of my siblings except Annika.”
Annika was the sister right above Lilya. Like Timur, she held a battler’s classification and had gone away to study with Aunt Sansa’s people. That had to be part of the secret.
“My battler training upholds a longstanding family tradition. I specialize in dragons.”
Kyrie didn’t even try to hide his astonishment. “Like me?”
“Too right.” Timur caressed Kyrie’s hair. “Having you in my family helped me choose my courses.”
It had never occurred to Kyrie that he could have brought his questions to someone besides Lapis. Like a dragon specialist. “You know things about me?”
“Not as much as Sinder, but more than most.” Timur’s expression gentled. “Sorry to keep something so important from you.”
“I was little.” Kyrie’s heart thumped in anticipation of future conversations. “I have grown.”
“As has my trust.”
Which may have been the highest compliment Timur could have paid.
“Right. So. Torloo, Sinder, and I are working together. The battlers who just chased Sinder into the forest are learning tactics for tracking and restraining dragons.”
Sinder strolled in as if that had been his cue. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. All I did was circle back. Everything settled?”
Timur stood. “I was just getting around to your minigame.”
With a nod to Torloo, Sinder said, “Thank you for your indulgence, leader. I’m confident that the challenge I’ve issued to Kyrie won’t interfere with the rookies’ efforts.”
“A challenge?” prompted Torloo.
“His affinities interest me. I want to find out if they have practical applications. Kyrie will give chase. I’ll evade. Torloo will bear witness. Reveille will keep watch.”
Torloo’s tail puffed and settled a few times. “Is it wise for Kyrie’s test and the battlers’ mission to run concurrently?”
“Why not?”
“The battlers might mistake Kyrie for prey.”
Sinder smirked. “They’ll never see him.”
“And the traps?”
“In the unlikely event of a misstep, the traps aren’t lethal, and you and Reveille will be right there. Assuming you can keep up.”
Torloo looked honestly baffled. “You know my speed.”
“Oh, you’re faster,” Sinder drawled. “But you’re definitely going to run into trouble.”
Kyrie immediately understood. Games like this were fun. And necessary.
“What kind of trouble?” Torloo patiently asked, though his tail was puffed double.
Sinder’s smile widened. “Like now, for instance. Where is your friend?”
From under the table, where he now sat with Fend, Kyrie watched Torloo turn a circle.
“Never discount a dragon,” said Sinder. “Even a young one. We’re good at these games.”
Kyrie liked being included, liked being Sinder’s brother.
But Torloo’s agitation grew, to the point that he tucked his tail. “I am forewarned.”
Then something else, too soft to hear. But the winds were willing, and they carried the young wolf’s troubled words to Kyrie—he is like him.
FORTY-EIGHT
Blessing
Lilya had always considered Lapis part of her family. His face had been bending into view since her cradle days, because he