The Betrayed Dragon (Cycle of Dragons Book 2), Dan Michaelson [best books to read all time .txt] 📗

“You’d be surprised,” Manuel said. “Unfortunately, there are more politics at play within our city than most are aware of.”

“Even with the king?”

“I think the king encourages them,” Manuel said. “He likes a little bit of drama. I think he needs a little bit of drama, considering how powerful his dragon riders are.” Manuel fell silent, watching me for a moment. Finally, he turned and stared out toward the forest. “It’s why I wanted to be a Hunter. I’m drawn to the solitude.” He glanced over at me again, flashing a hint of a smile. “I suspect you understand.”

I did, and nodded.

There were times when I would have wanted nothing more than to be alone.

That wouldn’t teach me how to use the dragon connection though.

“Maybe I could connect to the mesahn,” I said.

“Maybe.” He glanced toward the Academy. “I suppose that I should get back to my work. When I heard you banging your way through the forest like some sort of blind person, I had to at least say hello.” Manuel grinned at me.

I had made a lot of noise as I had come through here. And I wasn’t about to feel bad about it, either. I didn’t know what was out there, and it could have been some animal.

Manuel slipped away, disappearing back into the darkness of the forest. It didn’t take long before I couldn’t see him at all.

I turned toward the city, heading back at a jog. The closer I got to the city, the more that the energy of the dragons pulled upon me. I could feel the heat within them, the mixture of powers coming from the dragons within the barracks where they were held. Strangely, I still couldn’t feel the heat and energy of the black dragon. I figured I should be aware of him, especially as he had to have returned.

When I reached the entrance to the Academy situated on the outskirts of the city, I pulled open the oaken door and stepped into the stone hall. Dragon sculptures lined the hallway, lanterns flickering in the jaws of the dragons, as if they were breathing fire in the building itself. I hurried through the halls then paused for a moment. I was tired, especially after a day spent wandering the forest, and wanted nothing more than to go to bed and rest, but I thought that I needed to report to Jerith and let him know that I had returned.

I headed up the wide stone staircase that led to the instructors’ quarters. More dragon sculptures were situated every few stairs, flames breathing out from their mouths. The flames never burned, as they were all tinged by the magic of the dragon mages, though they could feel hot if somebody got too close to them.

I paused on the landing of the instructors’ quarters and hurried along the hallway to Jerith’s door. I had come to know Jerith as well as any of the instructors, and he was generally kind to me, though I was still just a student. I knocked at his door, waiting for a moment.

There was no sound from within.

I knocked again, and waited still, but there was nothing.

I turned away, heading down the hall, and made my way toward my room in the student section. The hallway in this section was narrow, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side. There were no decorative dragon sculptures to illuminate the way. Sconces set into the stone glowed with a faint, non-magical light, oil burning in them. I heard voices laughing from the end of the room, a common area in which many of the students gathered. I didn’t usually spend time there, mostly because I didn’t fit in with most of the other students. Part of that was because I had a connection to the dragons that surpassed that of a dragon rider, but the other part was something about me. Having come from lands practically near the Wilds, I was an outsider, at least according to the other students.

Not that it bothered me. It couldn’t.

I was happy enough to learn about the dragons, my connection to them, and what that might do as I continued to work with my power.

I had to go through the common area on the way to my room though.

As I headed through, I paused. Three students sat at the table near the hearth, tossing dice as they laughed. Mugs were set in front of them, and one of them, an older student with dark black hair and a sharp nose, looked over at me. Brandel was unpleasant, and had been that way ever since I had first met him. He had been at the Academy for the better part of five years, and progressed quickly through it. From what I had learned, he had proven that he would eventually gain dragon mage power, though I also had learned he did not have significant power. At least not yet. According to him, it was only a matter of time. And any connection was more than I had.

The other two students were younger—maybe 14 or 15, though it was difficult for me to know, especially as I haven’t spent much time with Jameth and Rohda. Jameth was slight of build, which made him look even younger, and had pale blue eyes. Rohda was a solid young woman, the kind who looked as if she would have managed well on a farm, and had a pockmarked face along with pale golden hair. They both looked over to me, while Brandel smirked.

I was nearly across the room when Brandel spoke up. “It took you long enough,” he said.

I paused, turning back to him. Brandel was large for his age, and only a few years younger than me. I had always suspected it made him feel a bit more entitled than some of the other students. That was partly my own fault. I rarely said anything, and I wondered if he took my silence for