Veilfire: Nayis Trilogy, #1

Chapter One

Naya Reed awoke with a jolt. Her nightclothes clung to her skin with a thick layer of sweat, and her breath came in stuttering gasps that sent her vision spinning. Frantic, she pawed at the surface beneath her, finding it cold and hard—smooth stone. When she tried to get up, something wrapped around her foot and jerked her back down. She kicked away, desperate to free herself, and it was only when the sound of tearing cloth broke through her loud panting that she realised it was her bedsheets.

She was in her room.

Forcing her eyes to focus on the world rather than on her lingering dream, she turned her head to take in the tall bed at her back, the blue-and-black quilt half on the floor, the sheets knotted around her.

She’d fallen out of bed.

In a wash of relief, she released a breath and bowed her head against the floor, allowing the coolness of the stone to work its way through her panic and soothe her rattled mind.

Her visions had been so clear. She’d gone to bed in a state of contented sleepiness and had opened her eyes to find herself soaring above the country, staring down over mountains and farmsteads. Every sheep, cow, and horse had stood out in stark detail against the lush green grass, tempting an appetite that wasn’t hers, and the glint of the setting sun on the river had tickled her parched throat. The mountains themselves were gold and ruby in the light, welcoming and protective.

For a while the experience had been lovely—a carefree journey in someone else’s mind. But then she’d been consumed by an overwhelming terror, a fear that she was about to watch the world go up in a puff of smoke. Below her, the country withered, the trees rotting and the riverbeds drying out. The clear sky clouded over with an unnatural fog, and below it trees and farmsteads wavered in and out of sight, seeming to disappear from existence.

Naya groaned and wrapped her arms around her stomach, waiting for the wave of nausea to settle as she remembered that undulating mist. Whatever the fog was, it had left a bitter taste at the back of her throat, and the uneasy feeling had seeped into her pores to suck out the strength that had kept her aloft.

She was certain it didn’t help that she’d never actually landed. Waking up by tumbling out of bed was hardly the best way to readjust to her conscious mind. If only she could get her stomach to calm down.

She eased herself onto her shaking arms to get a clearer idea of what had happened. Her bedsheets were twisted around her body from the waist down and had caught up in her nightdress, which tugged at her throat. A cool draft in the room brushed over the sweat at the back of her neck, replacing the uncomfortable heat with a chill that raised goosebumps over her arms and legs.

Naya shivered and pulled the quilt around her shoulders. Her neck ached with the movement, and she tasted blood. When she ran her tongue over her teeth, the sting of pierced flesh shocked her the rest of the way into wakefulness.

She must have bitten her tongue when she fell.

Unless it was more than that.

The thought refused to go away as she grabbed hold of the bedpost and pulled herself to her feet. Everything suggested she’d had another seizure during her vision, one bad enough to send her tumbling out of bed in a knot of sheets. Visions and seizures didn’t always come together, though lately it had been happening often enough that she was surprised her parents hadn’t caught on yet. She’d lost so much weight that her clothes didn’t fit properly, and she’d had to cover it up by adding extra layers under her skirts. The headaches had been getting worse, affecting both her sleep and her appetite, and some days she felt more like the walking dead than a young woman of seventeen.

In a pathetically unsteady gesture, she gathered the sheets from the floor and heaved them onto the bed, then slid her slippers out from underneath and pulled them on. The woolly interior hugged her toes and eased some of the cramps that had started up her calves from the cold stone floor.

With careful steps, she crossed the room to her scratched-up walnut desk, closer to the fire that still crackled and popped in the grate. The morning sun peeked over the horizon and spilled its cool light across the room. This early in spring, it offered no heat and barely cut through the dampness of the night, but after the darkness of her thoughts, even a hint of brightness was enough to dispel some of her lingering sense of unease.

She gave the flames a few pokes and added another log, then she settled in her chair and pulled her charcoal and paper out of their box in her drawer.

Drawing her visions had become part of the routine when she woke up from a poor sleep. It was the only way Naya had found to reconnect with the waking world and to sharpen her memory of what she’d seen. Even then it didn’t always help, as the visions were often more riddle than explanation and left great blank patches that she struggled to bring to mind, but sometimes she was able to interpret them in time to give them meaning.

The first visions had come when she was fourteen years old. She’d been expecting them. From the time she was old enough to understand, her parents had explained it was a possibility.

Before she was born, her father, Brady Reed, had melded minds with a dragon to save their territory, and the result was a…difference in her blood. Her parents had hoped the only side effect would be her slightly elevated body temperature, but with the arrival of her menses the visions had come.

At first, she’d found them thrilling. To know they came because of a connection with a dragon—it set her apart from all the other young girls in Feldall’s Keep. She’d caught glimpses of the world from a whole new perspective, snippets of a life so different from her own. She was a passive rider in someone else’s mind, unable to affect the world around her but able to see through the eyes of another.

The novelty had worn off quickly. Her parents, worried about the physical toll of these visions, had insisted she share a room with someone who could watch over her while she slept. She’d taken to locking her door to prevent any such nightly companion until they changed their minds, but even still they kept her close to home, never letting her go out and explore the world the way her cousins could. The visions had created a barrier around her life and, as far as she was concerned, never provided much benefit. Eventually, she’d stopped telling her parents when she saw things. Some of the restrictions had lifted, but not as many as she would have liked.

To a certain extent, she understood their position. She’d grown up listening to stories of their adventures. They’d seen death and dragons, war and the evils of magic. They wanted to keep their only daughter safe—even from herself. But while she understood and loved them for it, she couldn’t help resenting how much she was missing, and the thought of losing even more freedom pushed her to keep her secrets.

Over the years she’d filled a trunk with her sketches, the earlier drawings little more than abstract portraits due to both her novice skills and her inability to recreate what she was seeing. Three years later, her skill had improved, though she couldn’t say she was pleased with the reason for it. In the last three months alone, she must have added at least two dozen sketches to the pile.

Her fingers shook as she set charcoal to paper, but after a few moments, she fell into the rhythm of tracing lines across the page. Shape by shape, the image became clear. Feldall’s Keep stretched out beneath the slithering fog, the tower of its motte-and-bailey design reaching up to greet her. The village within the gates lay out in a tableau, with the cottages of the merchants and servants in the south end, the horseshoe of shops in the centre, and the barracks and training yard to the north.

Another page and a fresh piece of charcoal. A higher view now, this one showing the village and the forest beyond the gates. Trees she’d drawn in the previous sketch were now gone, represented on her paper by simple outlines, the details left blank.

Erased from the world.

For the first time in a while, the vision worried her, falling too close to reality. For months people had been reporting loved ones missing. Gone in a heartbeat, with no sign of what might have happened to them. Livestock had disappeared, as had a few trees.

Naya’s own uncle, Jayden Feldall, and his wife, the princess Ariana, had vanished six months ago. They’d wished their sons a good night and were nowhere to be found the next morning. No one had seen or heard from them since.

The family had fallen into a state of shock and concern. Naya doubted her mother, Jasmine Reed, had enjoyed a good night’s sleep since the news had arrived about her twin. Naya herself had been suffering from non-vision nightmares about the horrors her aunt and uncle might be facing, wherever they were. To not even know what they were going through was unbearable.

But the number of people going missing had continued to rise. Ten, thirty… Forty-five was the last update Naya had heard.

And now this vision showing the entire landscape affected…

Naya set down the charcoal and pulled the quilt tighter around her shoulders as her memories replayed, unbidden. Though the fog creeping across her belly as she skimmed over it was strange, it had become a regular companion on her nightly journeys. It had come in slowly, skirting the edges of her awareness. Over time, the murkiness had become thicker and taken over more of the world, its shifting pattern hypnotic, even if it did leave her apprehensive. The fear tonight had been new. It had crawled through her veins and wrapped around her heart until she’d been unable to focus on anything other than continuing to breathe, one inhalation at a time, certain she was about to fall out of the sky.

As if she’d been the one flying.

A surge of exhilaration ran through her as she remembered the rolling of her stomach with each spin and drop. Before the fear, there had been a soaring freedom and joy in being airborne, above the world.

That was the part she loved about being able to see through the eyes of a dragon. In her earlier visions, she’d only seen faint projections of the world, but as they grew more frequent, she felt as though she were actually there in the mind of the great beast gliding over the countryside. Free in a way she’d never experienced when awake.

It was a shame that both the effort of having the visions and the images she received came at such a cost.

She trailed her fingers over the sketch. For the last few weeks the things she’d seen had been meaningless. Feldall Territory fading, the capital overtaken by storms, and always that endless fog. There had been nothing clear since that night five months ago, when a voice in her head had warned her that something in the world was waking the dragons from their long sleep. She still shuddered every time she thought of it, how some foreign consciousness had taken over her mind to speak through her. But how could she resent the invasion when the words had been intended to help—to give her family a chance to prepare? Prepare for what, though? The question had plagued her parents on a daily basis ever since.

When she’d awoken from that particular vision, her family—who had been witness to the entire episode—had fretted over her for weeks, watching to make sure she was okay, but also to see if any more words of warning would come.

They were no strangers to the fact that dragons were a part of this world. Her father’s research estimated that there were thousands of dragons still in existence, though they were rarely seen because of how long they slept between feedings.

To have all the dragons waking? It seemed a portent of horrible change—cattle depleted, crops burned, people killed—yet nothing had come out of it so far except a sense of foreboding, as though the universe were braced for something to happen without knowing what or when.

There were no clues about why people were disappearing or why the dragons would be affected. Her parents had sent couriers out across the country to gain information, and all had returned empty-handed.

Tonight’s vision hinted that their trouble was finally coming to a head. The energy being drained from the dragons by that unnatural fog foreshadowed a major change that would no doubt affect the human population as well as the immortal one.

Maybe it was time to share her visions with her parents.

Naya groaned and buried her face in her hands. Revealing that she’d been having visions would mean weeks of taking tonics to bolster her physical well-being. It would mean bedrest and likely missing the Midsummer Rites. Her parents took no risks when it came to her health, and Naya didn’t think she’d be able to handle it if the walls closed in more than they already had.

But telling them what she’d seen could give them a chance to prepare, or give Maggie and Brianna something to work with in their magical explorations.

She rubbed her eyes and, keeping the quilt around her shoulders, went to the window to peer into the village. The servants were already stirring, preparing to make their way through the keep to carry out their morning routines. Movement around the barracks signalled the early start of Feldall’s soldiers, though the merchants would remain warm and cozy in their beds for at least another hour. Beyond the gates, the farmsteads were touched with the soft glow of sunrise, and although she couldn’t see the farmers, Naya knew they’d likely been up and at their tasks since long before she’d fallen out of bed.

Feldall’s Keep had grown and thrived in the last decade under her mother’s guiding hand and her father’s sage advice. There had been twelve years of peace and abundance after the near-miss of a war with Margolin’s enchanted army.

The disappearing people had ended the winning streak, but if something in Naya’s vision helped them prevent the situation from getting worse, it would be worth the cost to herself.

Not wanting to stay alone with her thoughts any longer, Naya threw off her quilt and got dressed. Stockings and shift to fend off the chill of the morning, and a brown wool skirt that hid the dirt she tended to pick up during her frequent walks through the farmland. Finally, she pulled on her rich green corset and laced up the front, tying it tightly enough to give shape to her fading figure, but still loose enough to move. It was a compromise she was willing to make to balance fashion with utility.

Toying with her long red curls to work through the knots, Naya pinned her hair back on the sides and gave herself a quick look in the polished silver glass on her desk. A glaring red mark traced her hairline, and she swore. Of course she’d bumped her head when she’d fallen. Not wanting to cause any extra worry, she shifted her hair to cover it as best she could. With any luck her parents would be too distracted by the news of her vision to notice.

***

Trying to work through the shaking in her legs and the lingering dizziness, Naya took her time walking down the corridor towards her mother’s office. Despite the early hour, she knew Momma would already be at work. The Lady of House Feldall always wanted to be available if there was trouble.

On her way, Naya passed the history of House Feldall woven into the tapestries on the wall. She’d walked by them thousands of times before, but after today’s vision and that clear sense of soaring above the world, she paused to take a look at the dragon flying over the keep. According to the stories she’d grown up with, this was Talfyr, the dragon her father had bonded with. The beast that had touched her mind and affected so much of her life.

She’d never seen him in person, but in her imagination, he was magnificent. When she was younger, she’d asked anyone who’d been around during Talfyr’s last sighting for stories about him, and her father was always happy to regale her with tales. Thanks to him, she was able to picture the beast’s luminescent scales catching the sun, his serrated wings sawing through the treetops as fire burst from between his jaws.

To know she was connected to such a legend filled her with awe, and she wished with all her heart that it wasn’t tempered by so much resentment. What good was standing out from the crowd when it prevented her from having a life?

If she could trade in her dragon bond for friends and freedom, she would do it in a heartbeat.

Even if it did mean losing the ability to fly in her dreams.

Shaking off her melancholy, accepting how useless it was, she continued her trek to her mother’s office. By the time she arrived, her head was aching and she was out of breath. She had to square her shoulders and steady herself before taking the last few steps to the closed door. Momma would sniff out her weakness at the slightest symptom.

Voices reached her from behind the door, her mother and Maggie’s familiar tones going back and forth.

Good, thought Naya. It would be better to tell them both at once.

She rapped quickly on the wooden door and didn’t wait for a reply before stepping inside.

Her mother stood behind the desk, her arms crossed over her chest. Her long braid of dark hair, slashed with grey, dangled over her shoulder, a few loose locks blowing in front of her eyes. She wore the comforting and familiar green and gold of her House, her twin daggers in their sheaths at her hips.

Maggie Stanwell, the House enchantress, stood beside her. Her grey skirt was smeared with green smudges, and her black corset hugged her middle, the white tunic underneath as stained as her skirt. Her grey-blonde curls reached her bare shoulders, held back from her face with a leather strap.

…not working, she was saying, her brow furrowed with frustration. Brianna’s tried twice, and each time she gets thrown out. And she’s better at this part than I am.

Naya’s interest was piqued. What conversation had she walked in on? Brianna Stanwell, Maggie’s youngest daughter, was apprenticing to become her mother’s replacement. She’d taken to magic as naturally as others took to swimming, and Maggie held high expectations that her daughter would be an even stronger enchantress than she was. Naya hadn’t known she was working on anything new.

What do you think it means? her mother asked.

Either we’re doing something wrong, which I find highly unlikely, or someone is blocking the way. And I can’t begin to guess who might want to do that. Anyone in their right mind would know that messing with the Veil could lead to irreversible repercussions. Bri’s afraid that if she pokes too hard, she’s going to poke right through, so she’s moving slowly.

Naya remained silent, fascinated by the conversation.

There’s always the possibility that we’re dealing with a spontaneous event.

Gods forbid, said Maggie. It would be three times more difficult to resolve if there’s no person behind the issue.

Then we can only hope we’re dealing with a madman. Momma frowned, but her expression softened when she spotted Naya standing in the doorway. Without saying anything, she stretched out her arm in welcome, and Naya crossed the room to step into it. She breathed in the subtle smell of rose hips she always associated with her mother and felt the tension at the back of her neck relaxing. The visions could never hurt her here, safe in her mother’s embrace.

Good morning, Naya, Maggie said, taking time to give her a warm smile. How are your poultices coming along?

Brianna had taken Naya under her wing to teach her how to make poultices for the Healing Ward—something to keep her mind engaged when she wasn’t with her tutors. She loved working with the herbs, learning which plants had what effects, what doses were safe. She often wished she’d been born with a touch of actual magic in her blood to follow in Brianna’s footsteps. Unfortunately, all she had was a dragon bond that induced full-body seizures and blinding headaches.

I’m still having trouble sealing them properly, she said, but Brianna’s going to show me a trick the next time we meet.

Easy as peaches once you figure it out, Maggie assured her, then turned her attention back to Momma. Brianna wants to try entering a trance before she makes the attempt again, she said, and it hurt Naya’s heart to see how quickly her smile faded, replaced by the worry and strain their situation was causing. She thinks that if she can focus her mind more accurately, she’ll find an open doorway to the other side of the Veil. Maggie sighed and shook her head, sending her curls sliding over her shoulders. All we need is one good look. Once we see the problem, we’ll have a better idea how to fix it. Until then, we’re stabbing in the dark.

Do you think this is why people are vanishing? Naya asked. Because of some change to the Veil?

She didn’t understand much about how the Veil worked, although Brianna had once tried to explain it to her. From what she’d been told, it was like an invisible curtain that divided the world—though from what, she wasn’t sure. From whatever came next? From other worlds? What she did know was that the Veil was the source of all magic. Those who were able to connect with it could affect the state of the world around them. She’d heard the stories of what had happened when the Veil tore seventeen years ago, how the structure of the world had been threatened. The solution then had been to seal the doorway between one world and another.

Had someone reopened it?

We’re not sure, love, Maggie said. Brianna’s been trying to use the Veil to determine the source of the trouble, that’s all. Only now she’s learned she can’t get close enough to do even that.

Be sure to keep us posted, Momma said. Then she puffed out a breath and pressed a kiss against Naya’s head before releasing her and dropping into her chair. We can’t let this go on much longer, Maggie. You’ve heard the gossip.

Maggie nodded and darted a glance at Naya. They’re saying it’s seventeen years ago all over again. It’s not—if there were actual tears in the Veil, we would know—but it’s too similar to quench the fear altogether. People are starting to panic.

Flashes of stories wove through Naya’s memory, but she didn’t know which parts Maggie was referring to. She could never tell what was truth and what had been exaggerated along the way.

Brady hasn’t left the library in three days, trying to figure out what else it might be, Momma said, rubbing her fingers into her eyes. Or even just a way to put people at ease that they aren’t about to lose their homes again. But how can we promise them that when we don’t know what’s happening?

We will, Jax, Maggie said. I know it’s not as quickly as you’d like, but we’re not giving up.

Her mother gave Maggie a reassuring smile, then turned her attention to Naya. We must be boring you.

Naya basked under her mother’s warm gaze, and the tension she’d carried since waking up lightened its load on her shoulders. Not at all. You know I’d like to do my part to help with whatever’s happening. I’m interested to hear what you’ve learned.

Her mother’s brow furrowed. Are you feeling all right?

The warmth in Naya’s core evaporated and she stiffened, hating that the conversation had already taken this turn. Of course.

A raised eyebrow, never a good sign. Are you sure? The scrape on your forehead tells me otherwise. Did you fall?

Self-consciously, Naya reached up to brush her fingers over the place where her mother was staring, wishing she could cover it up. Apparently she hadn’t done a good enough job of hiding the evidence. Her cousins would be disappointed in her.

I tripped on the edge of the couch this morning. Just not paying attention to where I was going. It was certainly plausible. Naya was known to be a bit clumsy, and she would rather be seen as bumbling than weak.

Her mother took Naya’s hand and pulled her head down to plant a kiss on the scrape. Try to be careful, Naya. You know your health hasn’t been the best lately. Naya stifled a groan. And here she’d thought she’d been covering everything else so well. What are you doing up so early anyway?

Naya opened her mouth to tell her mother and Maggie about her visions, but the words withered on her tongue. The details had already begun to blur, and in the face of Maggie’s news, they hardly seemed relevant anymore. All she remembered was the sense of dread and exhaustion, but how was that supposed to help them?

Being here, seeing the worry in her mother’s eyes, Naya knew how the rest of the scene would go. She would tell them about the unnatural fog—which, based on what Maggie had said, was likely the Veil that Brianna was already exploring. Her mother would listen to her, then call the physicians to check her over and make sure she hadn’t hit her head too hard. They would find out about the increased number of seizures. She would be back to having someone sleeping in her room, having the watch on her tightened. How long would it take her parents to calm down enough to let her return to her life? Weeks? Months? Longer if the visions continued. And all for what? Some kind of message she could barely remember?

Maggie and Brianna had a theory. Maybe that would be enough until Naya found a better way to approach this. She just needed time to make more sense of what she was seeing so she could come to her parents with something concrete. Something that might actually help.

I just didn’t sleep very well.

The furrow on her mother’s brow deepened. Again?

Naya forced a smile. I’m too excited about the Midsummer Rites, I suppose. But you two were talking about something. Sorry I interrupted.

She cast a look at Maggie, who offered an understanding smile in response, then left the room, closing the door behind her.

As soon as she was free, she let out a low groan and rested her forehead against the wall, allowing the coolness of the stone to seep into her heated blood.

Uncertainty wrapped around her like an uncomfortable cloak. Considering her throbbing head and the evidence of her seizure, maybe a visit to the Healing Ward wouldn’t be the worst idea. Momma’s concerns weren’t based on nothing. But Naya couldn’t bring herself to handle more fussing.

What she needed was to find a way to understand her visions. Then, equally important, remember them. If she could master them, maybe the headaches and seizures would stop.

But how was she supposed to get started? It wasn’t like she had a Visionary’s Almanac lying about.

I’ll find a way.

Naya pushed away from the wall and headed towards the stairs. Step one, some food in her stomach. That would help settle her nausea and spinning head.

She started down the steps, but before she made it halfway, her head began to swim and her vision went dark. In a flash, her mind was filled with sunlight and treetops wavering in the wind. She was perched on the edge of a mountain, rough stone and sand beneath her talons. Thirst tore at her throat, and she bent her head to drink from a shallow lake in the stony heights.

Her reflection stared back at her, and confusion sent her thoughts spinning again. No mirror image of green scales and colossal wings. Instead, a smaller face stared back at her, with bright golden eyes and brown scales that hadn’t yet come into their full colour.

A dragon she’d never seen before.

Before she could make sense of what was happening, her legs gave out. She didn’t have time to catch herself before she slipped on the stairs and tumbled down.

Chapter Two

Naya scrabbled for the wall and drew herself to a halt a few steps down. Her heart rattled against her ribs and her breath came quick and shallow, but a hasty inventory confirmed she hadn’t hurt herself.

I really hope no one saw that.

The thought had barely entered her mind when a familiar, concerned voice shouted, Naya, are you all right?

She bowed her head with a groan.

Footsteps sounded against the stone as Joseph Stanwell, Maggie’s middle son, hurried down the hallway. A moment later, he was kneeling by her side and linking an arm under hers so he could help her sit up.

Of course it had to be him. It couldn’t have been Maggie or maybe Brianna, but the one person in the keep she never wanted to see her like this.

Yep, she said, doing her best to hold herself steady, though her head still ached badly enough that little spots danced in her eyes. Thank you.

She looked up at Joseph, and her stomach flip-flopped. She’d been enamoured with him since she was fourteen years old, though he’d never done anything to make her think he reciprocated. Why would he? He was eight years her senior and even now was looking at her with sympathy rather than attraction. A blacksmith like his father, his muscles were thick and his shoulders broad, and he had a hint of devilry in him that Maggie adored. Apparently he’d been quite a challenge as a child.

This morning, however, the teasing was gone from his eyes, and only concern stared out at Naya. Her cheeks flushed, and she wished she could be anywhere but here.

A door opened down the corridor and more footsteps hit the stone behind Joseph.

Naya? Honey? her father said.

Naya squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe she could wish this all away. Unfortunately, it wasn’t another vision she could wake up from but a real-life nightmare.

I’m fine, Poppa, she said. I slipped, that’s all.

Poppa’s grey eyes, so filled with worry, scanned her over, his attention lingering on the same spot on her brow that Momma had pointed out earlier. And not for your first time today, is it?

I’m not sure what that was, Naya, but you didn’t just fall, Joseph said. You froze, and then your legs gave out.

I’m fine, she repeated, and unlinked her arm from his, leaning away from him to give herself more space. She was seventeen years old, for goodness’ sake. She didn’t need to be babied because she took a tumble.

Thank you, Joseph, Poppa said, patting him on the back.

A woman poked her head around the corner, her curled hair coifed and coiled. Joe? Are you coming?

Be right there, Annette, he said, and Naya restrained herself from burying her face in her hands. Could this moment get any worse? Not only Joseph, but the woman he was courting. He turned back to Naya. Are you going to be okay?

She nodded. Thank you for helping me.

Anytime, kid. I have to do what I can to ingratiate myself with the future leader of our territory. He said it with a wink, and despite the twinge in Naya’s heart, she smiled back.

Then he was gone, hurrying down the hall to meet Annette and leaving Naya with her father.

Come on, Will, help me get her up.

Naya looked over her father’s shoulder to find Will Stanwell at the top of the stairs, his brown mop of hair almost covering his chocolate-brown eyes. She hadn’t even noticed him there. Maggie’s eldest son and Brady’s apprentice stared awkwardly for a moment before he moved, and Naya appreciated his hesitation. He wasn’t the type to fuss or judge, and she wished it had been him who’d seen her fall instead of his brother.

Now that the shock of falling and the embarrassment of being discovered had faded, she tried to process what had happened. She’d never seen that dragon before in her life, but she’d been staring through its eyes. How was it possible? Was there more than one dragon taking over her mind?

The sheer number of questions made her headache worse, so she set them aside for now and allowed the two men to help her to her feet.

Let’s get you something to drink, Poppa said, and she didn’t bother to argue with him. Her mouth was dry, and after her fall she longed to sit on something comfortable until the throbbing in her knees ebbed.

Her father’s library was warm and sealed tight with thick velvet curtains, which shifted in the breeze but didn’t let the draft through. The fire crackled, spilling light over the books scattered across the table in front of it. No doubt the research her mother and Maggie had been discussing. Naya wondered if they’d found anything, and if any of it related to her vision this morning.

Her father ushered her to a wingback chair, while Will went to the sideboard and poured her a glass of wine, diluting it with water. He handed it to her with a smile and stepped back, giving her space.

Poppa, on the other hand, remained kneeling at her side, keeping her hand tight in his.

Tell me what happened, he said.

I did. I tripped on the stairs.

He frowned. That’s not how Joseph tells it.

Naya took a sip of her wine, using the time to figure out what she was going to say. It wasn’t fair that he knew more than she wanted him to. It made lying that much more difficult.

I guess I just felt lightheaded, she said. I didn’t sleep well.

Her father raised himself off his knees and settled into the chair across from her. To Naya’s left, Will leaned against the desk and crossed his arms, obviously content to stay out of the conversation until he was needed.

How are your treatises coming along? Tutor Hamstead tells me your lessons are going well. He’s not piling on too much work, is he?

Hamstead’s field of expertise was economics, and Naya had been spending months learning about the financial status of Andvell in general and Feldall Territory in particular. Imports and exports, taxes and surpluses. It wasn’t always easy to wrap her head around, but she enjoyed the concrete numbers, something rational to hang on to when everything else was up in the air.

I have a few more to write for him, but the workload is manageable. He’s a good teacher.

I’m glad to hear it, he said. A frown flickered across his brow, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Naya, I want you to answer me honestly, and know that I’m not going to judge you. Have you been having visions again?

Her father asked the question with such seriousness that Naya was caught off guard. Unlike her mother’s fussing over her general health, her father was apparently happy to get right to the point.

But even with him, Naya hesitated over saying anything. Either way, it would get back to Momma, who would be hurt that Naya had lied to her about the bump on her head.

I don’t know what you mean, she said, and the words felt clumsy in her mouth. I’m serious. I just fell.

She waited for Poppa to let the matter go, or to challenge her. Instead, he sat back in his chair and stared at her, his grey eyes seeking out hers, boring into her head in a seeming effort to drag out the truth.

The need to keep her secret hidden bound her tongue to the roof of her mouth. Her reasons for staying silent hadn’t changed: it would make no difference if she spoke and would only make her parents worry.

But what about that other dragon?

The beast’s golden eyes flashed in her mind, and she sank into her chair. She had only ever heard her family speak of Talfyr. Once they had glimpsed other dragons flying