House of Dragons (Royal Houses 1)

One giant eye opened up and stared at her. Child, why are you interrupting my slumber?

She held up a hand as she tried to catch her breath. “I need… to talk to… someone.”

Talk to a human and do not bother me again.

“My visions,” she gasped out. “They keep happening, and they’re getting stronger. I need to find out how to control them or stop them or at least what they mean. You said I was a harbinger. That I am strong in spirit magic, but I don’t know what to do, Gelryn. Please, I beg your assistance.”

Gelryn’s eye had closed once more, and she thought that he had gone back to sleep. That all of this had been for nothing. But then he breathed out a wave of heat through his nostrils.

Let us leave this place.

“Leave?”

Climb on my back, and we shall depart.

“Are you… are you sure?” she whispered reverently.

The last thing she wanted was to insult Gelryn, who had lost his bonded dragon rider and never taken another, but she had to be sure.

Kerrigan Argon, do not ask me to repeat myself.

She nodded. Should have known better. She rose slowly to her feet, wincing at the pain in her legs. She was really going to pay for that tomorrow when Fordham made her run a million miles. With the strength left in her arms, she pulled herself up and onto Gelryn’s enormous back. Dragons just weren’t this large anymore. He was truly an ancient breed. She felt like a bug on him more than a rider.

Gelryn rose to his haunches, spreading his massive wings. Kerrigan held on with all of her might, flattening herself against him, and then he took off, descending deep into the cavern below. She barely suppressed her shriek of terror before he leveled off and then flew upward to one of the exits in the mountain. Then, just like that, they were soaring high above Kinkadia.

She released her death grip on Gelryn’s back and pressed herself up into a sitting position. She held her hands out to her sides, enjoying the wind running through her hair. It was easy to forget all of her problems when she was up in the clouds. Her last ride with Tavry felt like a lifetime ago, but she remembered thinking it would be her last. She was glad that she had been wrong.

They didn’t fly long before Gelryn descended toward another smaller mountain peak. He dropped gracefully onto a summit overlooking the entirety of the valley below and every twinkling light above.

“Whoa,” she breathed. “This is beautiful.”

You speak of more visions. Tell me what you have seen.

So, she spilled her guts, telling him all about her latest visions—the tournament, the raven sigil, and then the bizarre dream she’d had that prompted her to come see him.

“The tournament portions make some sort of sense, but how am I supposed to know what to do with the rest of it? A length of rope? A blue drink? A girl with blonde hair?”

It is as I feared.

“What is?”

The spiritual magic is controlling you, child, and not the other way around. You need to find a way to harness this ability, or it will destroy you.

“And how am I to do that?” she demanded. “They come on completely unexpected.”

Since our meeting, I have been researching the harbinger ability. Others in the past have been harbingers, but it does not appear that we have seen one in millennia. The recorded histories of that time are few. But even without more information, it is clear to me that the closer your visions are together, the more danger.

“That, at least, is true. All of my visions have spelled danger… usually personal danger.”

I fear that dark times are coming for Alandria. If only one vision was enough to reveal the Red Masks riots, how much danger could be coming if you have already had three visions?

She frowned. She had not thought about it in magnitudes. “A lot.”

Indeed. We need more knowledge. That is always the answer.

“What can I do? Scour the library?”

No, child. I fear Fae and humans alike have not been kind to harbingers. Most are seen as mad at best. He looked at her with one wide eye—a warning. It appears almost all have been violently killed for their gift.

She shuddered. “That’s… marvelous. At least I’m on the right trajectory.”

With your visions coming more frequently, I think it is time that I go home.

He said it with such reverence that there was no question in her mind where he meant. He wanted to go to the Holy Mountain. When dragons had first come to Alandria, the story went that they had been exiled through a portal from another world and left upon a mountain of Tendrille. There, they would bring their eggs to feel the vibrations of home. She didn’t know how much of it was even true, but it was a good story. And many dragons lived and pilgrimaged to the Holy Mountain every year, especially those whose riders were too old to continue participating in the Society culture. They retired to the mountain, and immense amounts of knowledge were still recorded there.