The human regarded us in heavy silence for a moment, then sighed.
“Yes,” he said, surprising us both. “I know we ask a lot of you. I know it seems unfair at times. But you must understand, it is for your own protection, as well as your future. We push you because it is imperative that you succeed. Because you have a destiny with Talon, and it is up to us to make certain you get there.” He clasped his hands, seeming to speak more to me now, instead of my angry sibling. “You are not mere humans. You are dragons, and your future is far greater than anything a human could hope for. I know it is difficult now, but if you work hard and do exactly what Talon wants, someday you will be the ones on the other side.”
The ones on the other side.
Something clicked in my head and, suddenly, everything became clear. I was a dragon, and Talon was one of the most powerful organizations in the world. If I was in Talon, I would be the one in charge. I’d be the one calling the shots. I wouldn’t have to take pointless exams, listen to humans or worry that my every move was being watched. In Talon, dragons were the bosses, the presidents, the CEOs. If I was part of the organization, no one would tell me what to do ever again.
Mr. Gordon noticed my reaction and smiled. “Yes, Dante.” He nodded. “Now you understand. Within the organization, you can become whatever you wish. But to get there, you must strive to become what Talon wants, even if it means putting your own desires aside for now. Remember your motto—Ut ominous sergimous. ‘As one, we rise.’ You are not merely a hatchling, you are part of something far greater than yourself. Sometimes, sacrifice is necessary.”
Sacrifice is necessary.
Ember snorted, still angry and clearly unimpressed with everything. “Whatever,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “I just know I’m never going to see that movie now, am I?”
Mr. Gordon was still watching me, his dark gaze assessing. His lips curled in a smug smile. “Ms. Brunner,” he said, still holding my gaze. “Please call the theater and arrange a private screening for tomorrow afternoon. Tell them we will need to reserve an entire theater room for a few hours. Tell them that price is not an issue.”
Ember jerked, eyes widening, and my mouth dropped open. Mr. Gordon smiled. “I think you’ve earned a bit of a break,” our teacher said, finally glancing at Ember, who appeared stunned into speechlessness. “You are correct. It can’t be training and exams every hour of every day. If you pass the final stages of your exams tomorrow, we’ll all go into town to celebrate. Is that motivation enough for you, Ms. Hill?”
Ember stammered an affirmative, and Mr. Gordon nodded. But his gaze met mine over her head, and in that dark glare, I could see the echo of his thoughts. This is what power is, Dante, it said. This is what you could have, if you do exactly what Talon wants. At the top, no one will tell you what to do, ever again.
At the top, you could be free.
Ember tried talking to me after we were dismissed, but I barely heard anything she said as we walked across the dusty yard to our rooms. My mind was spinning, and I suddenly didn’t care about the movie, or our ill-fated adventure, or anything but the upcoming test. I knew what I had to do now. I had a clear path, and I would not stray from it until I reached the end, at the very top. Even though the journey would be hard, and I would have to let some things go. It might be painful, but in the end, it would be worth it.
Sacrifice was necessary, but I would be free.
RILEY
“Riley,” said a voice out of the darkness.
I turned, shooting a bleary glance at the clock on the wall as the soldier appeared in the door frame of the cabin’s tiny kitchen—4:50 a.m. Apparently, I wasn’t the only early riser of the group. That, or St. George hadn’t gotten much sleep, either. Yesterday had been an exhausting, mind-numbingly long day of travel, the five of us—me, Ember, Wes, St. George and the Eastern dragon—stuffed into an old black Jeep that was not designed with comfort in mind. We’d taken shifts, both in driving and getting to sit in the front passenger seat, while the rest of us huddled in the back. A couple hours from our final destination, we’d pulled into one of the many small campgrounds scattered at the base of the Ozarks and had rented a cabin for the night. It had been a relief not to have to share space in a tiny hotel room, though my mind wouldn’t shut off long enough to let me sleep. Finally accepting that sleep was not an option, I’d risen and headed into the kitchen for the strongest black coffee I could make, when the soldier appeared in the doorway, wide awake, as well.
I ignored him, reaching for the coffeemaker. Well, what do you know, someone—probably St. George—had already made a pot. I poured myself a mug and took a swallow. Black and strong enough to strip paint from the wall—perfect. “What?” I mumbled.
A pause, then he took a quiet breath. “I never got the chance to thank you.”
Surprised, I turned away and opened the cupboard that held the meager supplies we’d brought. “Let’s not make this awkward, St. George,” I muttered, pawing through cans of soup and ravioli, jerky packages and bags of candy, anything that could be heated up quickly or eaten on the road. Ugh, maybe I would just grab something later from a drive-through. I didn’t see how Ember could eat Skittles for breakfast every day. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“You saved my life,” the soldier insisted. “You didn’t have to. There was nothing anyone could have done, not with how far away we were from the city. You could’ve let me die.”