22

Ainsley leaned forward and sent a message through the weight of her fingers on the dragon's neck. It fell lower, wings keeping it on a gentle, sloping path.

There was some sort of complex sprawling across a huge swath of land. As she looked closer, however, she realized it was still in progress, men rushing back and forth and carrying wood and metal over their shoulders. The most prominent of the buildings was what appeared to be a stable, but scaled to several times the size, with each stall huge and made almost completely of iron and steel. There were other buildings being slowly constructed as well- what looked like a barracks, as well as perhaps an armoury of sorts.

"Huh." Ainsley's quiet word was nearly blown away by the force of the wind as they looped in several slow circles around the site.

"Ainsley? What is that?" Gael asked again, leaning closer. Ainsley's skin tickled where her breath touched her neck, and she tried not to get distracted.

"I.... am not sure. But I have a few ideas. I think maybe we should set down somewhere."

Ainsley brought the dragon to a soft landing outside the walls of the city and slid off of its side. Gael slipped down a moment after her, catching herself on the grass underfoot. Here, where the wind didn't roar in their ears, they were able to talk.

"There was an insignia painted on the roof of that building," Gael pointed out. Ainsley nodded.

"I know. I saw it."

A stylized dragon in flight, against a simple, blocky red sun. The symbol of the Ackerley family line.

"My father is doing something there. I'm just not sure what."

"Those stalls were too large to be for any horse I've ever seen."

Ainsley ran a hand through her short hair. It took a few tries before it stayed there instead of flopping back over her eyes. "They're not for horses. I can only assume they're for dragons."

"Dragons?" Gael repeated.

Ainsley nodded, mulling over everything she had seen. "That's the only explanation coming to mind right now."

"But why would he need a stable for dragons? And all the other buildings?"

"I'm not sure," she replied, starting to get frustrated with how little she knew. She reached up, tangled her fingers in her short hair, and paced a few steps away. Then back again. Her mind raced.

"Perhaps he wants to use you to call on and summon dragons?"

"That's an option, but he knows I would never comply," Ainsley replied. The dragon they had ridden settled down like a cat in a patch of sunlight, adjusting the position of its blindingly white wings. "It seemed like he's preparing to..." her voice trailed off slightly for a moment. "Build an army."

"But he knows you would never help." Gael raised her knuckles to her chin in thought, biting down on her lower lip before her next question. "Is there a way to gain dragonblood abilities?"

"No, it's entirely genetic, it..." Once again, Ainsley let her voice drift away, trying to think back to what she had learned on this topic in her classes. "There was rumoured to be a way to do it," she said at last. Gael watched her with burning intensity as Ainsley traced slow steps in front of her. "To be infused with false dragonblood power. It required someone with an affinity for dark magics, and not many believe such a person can exist... dragons are the only truly magical beings. Unless you consider titans to exist as well, in which case that would apply to them as well."

"So there's no way your father could communicate with a dragon?"

"No. Not unless there truly did exist a person who understood dark magic." She stopped pacing and folded her arms around herself, staring at the ground as she thought.

"But could he capture and train dragons regardless?"

"I doubt it. That's the secret to dragons, really, that no one seems to grasp. It doesn't take being a dragonblood." She looked up at Gael, who was watching her intently. "It just takes kindness. And respect. The communication helps, sure, but any regular person can form a bond with a dragon." She let out a weary sigh and looked down again, tapping her fingers against her opposite arm. "But my father is not capable of forging such a bond. Not with dragons, and not with people."

Gael was quiet, and for a moment the only sound between them was the breeze playing over the grass and trees. The day was clear enough that the northern mountains were visible on the horizon as a hazy, crooked line.

"What should we do about it?"

Ainsley's gaze flicked up in surprise. "I—We?" She flushed, realizing how snappy that had probably sounded. "I mean... there isn't much we can do. When I get home I can ask my father about it, though the chances of him giving me a straight answer aren't high, but that's about all there is."

"Ah. You don't think it's anything to be concerned about?"

Ainsley hesitated. "I do. I just can't see how there's anything to do about it." It was concerning. Why would her father be building such a complex except for war? She could only hope the intent behind all of this was truly more innocent than it seemed, but apprehension coiled in her stomach like a venomous snake. "Besides, it isn't as though you have to worry about it." She regretted the words nearly as soon as she said them, but couldn't stop herself from elaborating. "I mean, I won't be your problem for much longer."

Gael's gaze seemed to darken slightly, but she smiled anyways. It didn't quite reach her eyes. "Ah. Right. Well, shall we head back to the marketplace and see what else we can find to do before tomorrow?"

Ainsley nodded, relieved that she was so willing to change the topic. "Of course."

The two wandered back along the well-trodden road that led back into the city. It was a good distance away with how far outside they had set down again, and by the time they were within the walls once more, the sun was setting, casting a golden glow over everything.

There was a flapping of wings and Ainsley looked up at the sky. Her heart plummeted at the sight of the dragon she had released hours earlier, but she managed a smile and held out a hand for it to perch on. It dropped down and settled its talons around her forearm, wings shifting a few times like a bird of prey before it got comfortable. It chirped softly and nuzzled against Ainsley's hand, who smiled and pushed its head away to reach the rolled up slip of paper tied to its leg. She tossed the dragon back into the air again, but it fluttered obstinately above her before perching on her shoulder again and snatching at tufts of her hair with its teeth.

Ainsley hesitated, using the dragon as an excuse to not open the letter just yet. She grabbed the creature from her shoulder, pulling it off like a cat with its claws stuck in the fabric of her clothing, and handed it to Gael. "Hang on to him, please?" Gael grinned and took the small dragon into her arms, holding it snugly against her chest. It burrowed deeper into her arms and began to rumble in approval.

With all distractions gone, Ainsley finally broke the seal and unrolled the letter. She recognized her father's elegant script immediately, and swallowed, suddenly finding her mouth uncomfortably dry.

She skimmed the letter, heart falling slightly, but then looked up at Gael and smiled, feeling the expression waver on her face. "He says he's sent Luca to come here the moment he sent off this letter. He'll be here to escort me home late tomorrow morning, and I'm meeting him at the tavern a few streets down."

"Ah. Alright."

Ainsley shifted her weight to her left leg, watching as the dragon craned it's head up to nudge at Gael's face. She smiled and stroked its wings.

"Well, unless you're determined to spend the night on the Finch, I can afford to find us an inn," Gael suggested.

Ainsley shook her head slightly. "The Finch is perfectly fine for me. I think I'll just stay there, if that's alright."

"Of course. It may be nearly empty; most of the crew prefers to spend nights on land when they can, but there are always a few still roaming about to keep an eye on her while we're docked."

Ainsley nodded. "Alright. That's fine."

The two made their way back to the ship in silence, the sun falling further below the horizon and lighting up the water with a golden edge on each quiet ripple. The Finch was mostly quiet, but there were a few crewman in the galley, gathered around open flasks of ale and talking in loud tones that resonated around the interior of the ship. Gael glanced at Ainsley, who shrugged.

This was her last night here. She might as well stay up and enjoy it with the others.