The Betrayed Dragon (Cycle of Dragons Book 2) Read online

  Great. Now I had them thinking that they had considerable talents, knowing that I did not.

  Of course, there was no real doubt about my lack of considerable talent. It was obvious, especially to someone like Brandel, who had used that against me time and again.

  I took a seat and Onas set the book down in front of him. "Now, you know that we each have a unique technique for reaching for the power that we can harness. It is a matter of finding the way that it fills us." He glanced up at me, his eyes large through his glasses. "I trust that you can feel the heat?"

  The fact that he asked was almost enough for me to change colors. A flush rolled through me. I nodded.

  "Very well. I wanted to ensure that you were capable of feeling that heat. It is no shame if you are still learning."

  "I can feel the heat," I said quickly.

  "Probably not," Brandel said under his breath.

  I shot him a look. He was younger than me, but more powerful, so in a way, that sort of balanced out.

  "What I would like for you to do is to focus on the heat within yourself. You may find that it burns, or you may find that it fills you. Either way is acceptable. Find the energy and use it." He chuckled. "Of course, that is easier said than done, I am aware. I recognize that the way in which we each draw our power is unique. Why, the way that I tap into the power is different than the way that Master Jerith does. Considerably so, after all. He has such a unique approach." He shook his head. "And different enough from Master Matthew—the two of us share similarities, but also differences." He looked back down to the book. "Now. Once you have touched the heat within you, what I would like for you to do is to see if you can't push that heat out. You must find it flowing through you, and then you can push it beyond, and only when you do, can you find something more."

  Immediately, Brandel and Dominic pushed on that power, and I could feel it across the table. Strangely, it seemed to have a directionality to it, the way that their power flowed, something that I could detect, though I wondered if perhaps there was something to the way that they were calling on power that allowed me to detect it. Perhaps it was Brandel's way of trying to torment me.

  I wouldn't put it past him.

  I felt the energy bubbling from them.

  "Very good. The two of you have done quite well." He looked over to me. "And now, you must see if you can do the same," he said, his voice creaking every so often, forcing him to clear his throat. "Do you see what these two are doing? Perhaps utilizing a similar technique would be beneficial for you. I can't say that I know what it is that they are doing, much like I can't say that I know what it is that you need to do."

  I resisted the urge to say anything more.

  Instead, I nodded. How could I do anything else? I had Master Onas willing to work with me, in his own unique manner, but even as he did, I doubted that I would find anything here that would be of much use.

  Still, it was worthwhile for me to try.

  I continued attempting to summon the connection.

  It did not come to me the way that I wanted it to though.

  The heat was there. Thankfully, I could do that much, but beyond that, there was nothing else. Just failure.

  "Try again," he said, looking over at me. "Feel for the heat, and then begin to push it through you. All you must do is find that. I'm sure that you can do that."

  "I . . ."

  "He won't be able to do it, Master Onas. We've seen that he does not have that talent. He will be relegated to riding on the dragons."

  He said it as if it were some slight, but I stared at him, ignoring the barb, feeling as if riding on a dragon were not such a consolation prize.

  "He's far too old for that. He must learn when he's young; otherwise, the dragons will not take to him. He must do this, or he will not proceed."

  My heart sunk, and it was only amplified by Brandel's grin as he looked across at me. If I didn't succeed, then I was no longer going to be able to stay here. I wouldn't be a dragon rider. I would certainly not be a dragon mage.

  Which meant that I would return home. I would become a farmer as I had believed I would. I would be a failure.

  I couldn't help but sense that Brandel felt amused by my annoyed reaction. I tried focusing on the heat within me, but I’m not sure that it made much difference.

  “You must focus,” Master Onas said, and he looked at me with an expression that suggested that he wasn’t sure whether I would be able to even do what he asked—not at all with the same encouragement I saw from Jerith, though there were times when even he seemed frustrated with me.

  “I’ve been trying,” I said carefully, aware that I couldn’t get angry. I had to be cautious with what I said, and how I said it.

  “What do you feel when the heat burns within you?” Master Onas asked.

  I looked down at my hands. “I don’t know that I feel much of anything.”

  Across from me, I could practically feel Brandel snickering. I didn’t need to be here. I could be anywhere else, studying in a different way, on my own, or perhaps even with any of the other master instructors, but I was here in the Academy for a reason. I would learn. Why did I care what Brandel thought?

  I didn’t.

  That thought alone was empowering, even though it shouldn’t make a difference.

  He irritated me, but he didn’t have anything that mattered to me. He wasn’t the one to decide whether I succeeded or failed. That was on me.

  I focused on my breathing, steadying it as I had been taught. From there, I began to think about the heat within my belly, the same heat that my father had mentioned feeling around the dragons, something that suggested to me that my father had much more experience with them than I had ever known. After that, I tried to think about what that heat might do.

  “It’s there. It simmers.”

  Master Onas crossed his arms, watching me. “Let it simmer, then. Work with it. You listen while I work with these others. Perhaps in time you will discover some trick from what they are doing. Keep working with them outside of our sessions.”

  I looked over to Brandel, though I had a hard time thinking that he would be willing to work with me. I had a hard time thinking that I wanted to work with him.

  Master Onas continued to drone on about how to feel the heat flowing within, and then how to push it out, finding the necessary channels. The others seemed to know exactly what he instructed, and all of them, including Brandel, managed to use that power in a way that created flames that went spiraling out from them—and beyond that, patterns that they turned and twisted.

  They would all become dragon mages.

  When I had focused on the simmering within me for a while, I got to my feet, nodded politely to Master Onas, and stepped out of the room.

  I headed back to my quarters when I practically ran into Ames speaking to Donathar.

  They were at the end of the hall, and Ames was looking up at him. Donathar was a large man, solidly built, and looked to me as if he might have done well on a farm. Not that I would ever tell a dragon mage that he could have been a farmer, but he certainly had that build.

  “Have you told any of the other instructors?” Donathar was asking.

  Ames shook his head. I stepped off to the side of the hall, knowing that I shouldn’t listen, but at the same time, I didn’t want to interrupt, either.

  “You are the first one I came across. I have been working with the dragons for the better part of the day, and the red one didn’t return.”

  Donathar nodded slowly. “I will look into it.” He patted Ames on the shoulder. “And you should get back to your studies. You have potential.”

  Donathar headed off down the hall, and Ames came in my direction. He shook his head, muttering something under his breath.

  “What is it?” I asked Ames.

  He looked up, as if suddenly realizing that he wasn’t alone in the halls. “Apparently, it’s nothing.”

  “Something with the dragons?”

  “O
nly that one of the dragons didn’t return. I wouldn’t have paid any attention to it, but I have been working with that one.”

  “It’s probably nothing. The dragon that I used for my testing didn’t return right away, either.”

  “You haven’t been here very long. You don’t know how unusual that is.”

  “For the dragons not to return?”

  “The dragons are safer here in the city. With riders. With mages. That’s why we have the pens. Outside the city isn’t safe.”

  “The pens don’t hold the dragons.”

  “They don’t have to hold them. They offer safety.” He shook his head. “It’s probably nothing, just like he said.”

  Ames started off, and I watched him go. There was something about the way that he said it that left me wondering if that were really the case. Maybe there was more to it.

  It was late. The sun had started to set. I’d been standing here for most of the day, taking breaks only to get food and water—and even those breaks had been infrequent. I held the bars of the dragon pen, squeezing them, holding on to the connection I shared with the dragons. I could feel that energy, the same connection that flowed out from the small dragon, and let it roll through me as it worked from one hand to the next, connecting between me.

  In the time I’d been here, I could feel that power building, the connection that formed, and I recognized the power there, even if I couldn’t completely control it. I felt as if I needed to find some measure of control within it—though so far, I had not completely succeeded.

  I wasn’t about to abandon it. I still felt the torrent of power flowing from one hand to another, though I had found a way of controlling that torrent a bit better than I had when Thomas had worked with me.

  If I were to work with him again in the morning, I intended to make it useful. I intended to be ready for him to instruct me and show me what else I might be able to do with this power. I had to hold tightly to that magic and that connection in order for me to know whether I could use that power in ways that would be similar to the dragon mages I had seen.

  The energy was there, rolling through me, a vibrant connection to magic that left me almost trembling. I had come to know how that power worked from one hand to the next, much the way Thomas had demonstrated. The next step was trying to find a way to tighten that power, harnessing it in a way that would focus that energy, narrowing the band so that it could be even more tightly controlled. I strained for that energy, and could feel the way it flowed through me. It seemed to touch upon that deep part of me, that buried heat I could feel, the second step in preparing to open myself to the dragon. But I had to restrict the flow to harness it.

  When I had attempted to constrict that power before, it had required me to limit the power coming to me from the dragon, though the dragon connection wasn’t something I could limit. What I needed to limit was my own use.

  Wasn’t that what I had seen Thomas doing? When he had held on to the power of the dragon then released it, there was still some that lingered, remaining behind after he had let it out.

  That was what I needed to touch upon. If I could find some way of holding that power, letting that flow from me, and maintaining a hold of it, then perhaps I could limit the flow. Later, I could work on what was involved in trying to turn that power into the flames that I had seen other dragon mages using.

  For now, all I wanted was to harness that power, to find a way to maintain the flow and the connection that worked within me, and to master it in a way that enabled me to use some aspect of it.

  It started to boil within me, a roiling sort of heat that stretched from the dragon, filling me. The energy that coursed out from one hand to the next began to bubble up, as if by doing what I was doing now, I somehow limited my connection to the dragon, changing in a way that made it much harder for the dragon to contribute power to me.

  Maybe that was a mistake.

  The only part of it that left me questioning whether it was a mistake was the fact that I could feel that heat beginning to build within me.

  The heat seemed to be the key. When I had seen other dragon mages using the power, it had left their energy flickering with tongues of flame. If I could hold on to that power within me, letting it begin to simmer, I might be able to create flames that rolled around me.

  I tried to do that now.

  As I did, I could feel the energy bubbling, the power that was building, and I tried to harness it, letting it wrap through me. I tried not to overwhelm myself, not holding too much power as the heat and pain that came with it was almost more than I could bear, but I felt that power there.

  I pulled some within me, letting it stay deep inside of me, practically restricted.

  In doing so, I recognized something else.

  There was a hint of a different kind of power.

  As it bubbled up, I recognized that heat, that power, and I recognized that there was some aspect of it that was almost more than what I could fathom. I strained with it.

  The heat exploded.

  Flames started to shoot from my hands.

  I sucked in a breath, trying to control it, trying not to release too much power, but I couldn’t help what was taking place—nor could I help the power that was flowing within me and the energy that expanded out of me. It was tied to the power of the dragon, but it was something more, as well. It seemed to rise up from the heat within me. Flames shot upward, working out of my hands, spinning around my arms—but they didn’t burn.

  A voice behind me caught my attention.

  “Couldn’t do anything with Onas, so he comes out here? Look at him.”

  I spun, the power I had been holding on to disrupted, and watched as Brandel approached. He was with two others. He seemed to enjoy having people hanging on every word he said, and each time he came around me, it seemed as if he were with another person.

  This time, he had two of the younger female students with him. Becca was dark-haired and lovely. She had been kind to me. From what I’d learned, she’d been at the Academy for the better part of four years. She was only two years younger than me, and had I not felt like such an outsider, I might have been interested in her. Cara was pale-haired, a little shorter, and had a sharp tongue that I had unfortunately encountered. I ignored her barbs, mostly because I recognized the nature of her insults as being similar to ones that my sister had used. They were both close in age.

  “What have you been doing out here?” Brandel asked.

  I remained near the dragon pen. I could still feel the connection to the dragons, though it wasn’t as potent as it had been before. I wondered if I might be able to harness that energy while talking to Brandel. At least if I could do that, I wouldn’t be at quite the same disadvantage with him as I would be otherwise.

  “Practicing,” I said.

  They approached, watching me, and I could feel energy building from Brandel. I knew that as he continued to build on that power, holding on to the energy within him, he would start to use it on me. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d targeted me with his connection to the dragons, but it would be the first time I’d manage to grasp some of the power myself.

  “Didn’t you get enough of a taste of failure with Onas?” He glanced over to Becca who didn’t say anything.

  Cara, on the other hand, just laughed. “You won’t be able to reach anything, anyway. If you could, you would have done so by now.”

  “I can still learn to connect to the dragons,” I said.

  Cara laughed again. “You’re barely going to be able to become a dragon rider. You’ll never become a dragon mage.”

  Now that I knew I was too old for even that, the insult stung more than it should.

  “I am studying with Thomas Elaron,” I said.

  I looked at each of them. I expected it would irritate them, but was surprised to see Brandel laughing.

  “Thomas Elaron? You’ve got to be kidding me. He hasn’t been seen around here in ages. My father tells me the king and his Sharat
h advisor are finally fed up with him.”

  I shook my head. “He was here yesterday and worked with me.”

  Brandel stormed toward me. As he did, I began to reach for the heat and the connection to the dragons. I had to hope that I could hold on to it, grasping that energy quickly enough for me to draw it through me, but I didn’t know if it would be effective. When I had held on to it so far, it had come to me, but there had been some limitation to it. I worried that even though I might be able to call that power, I might not be able to do it quickly enough for a defense against Brandel.

  “What are you going on about?” Brandel asked.

  “He offered to work with me.”

  Brandel glowered at me. “Listen. If you think you can intimidate me by your experience working with Thomas . . .” He pressed his hand up against me.

  “Don’t,” I said.

  Brandel cocked his head to the side, grinning. “And what are you going to do about it?”

  “I told you don’t.”

  He laughed. “Look at him,” he said, glancing back at Becca and Cara. “First he lies and tells us that he’s been training with Thomas, and now he thinks that he has enough strength to withstand me?” He turned his attention back to me. I could feel the heat coming from the dragon that he connected to. I could even trace the dragon. He had a considerable connection, though surprisingly, I also recognized that it was different—and less powerful than—what I had detected from Thomas. Not that I was surprised that Brandel wouldn’t have the same power as Thomas, only that I would be aware of it at all.

  I focused my breathing, steadying myself, and began to try to call upon the energy from the small green dragon nearby. If I could do that, then maybe I could deal with Thomas in a different way.

  He chuckled again and shoved me back. I staggered back a step, catching myself before spinning to him.

  “I warned you,” I said.

  “Or you’ll do what? I’m not afraid of any boy from the Wilds.”