Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 126358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 505(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 505(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
“You big asshole!” I snarled. “You know the Head Master won’t actually do anything because he’s your father, isn’t he?”
His face, which had been filled with evil glee, abruptly went dark.
“Don’t you say that!” he snapped. “I got to the Academy on my own merits!”
“Right,” I said dryly. “And that’s why you failed the entrance examination twice. But they let you in anyway, didn’t they? Because your daddy is the Head Master.”
I was deliberately baiting him now—trying to get him to attack me. It was a risky strategy, but also the only way I could think of to get Ryse here to help me. Screw standing on my own two feet—I needed a way to get out of this classroom!
“You little shit—you better shut your mouth!” Larson’s lumpy face was purple with rage. “I come from a long line of dragon riders!”
“Yes, the Head Master is from a Great House, isn’t he?” I said coolly. “But what surprises me is that he’s riding a Gold-wing and you only impressed a common Green. How did that happen? Maybe his bloodlines aren’t as strong he thought when he got his mistress pregnant with you.”
This seemed to be more than Larson could bear. With a roar, he rushed me and for a split second, I considered just standing there and letting him hit me so Ryse would come. But Larson was in a killing mood now—there might not be anything left of me by the time the North Wing Leader arrived.
At the last minute, I side-stepped his charge and ran for the door. I was praying it wasn’t locked and either the God or the Goddess must have heard my prayer because the knob turned in my sweaty palm and I was out of the classroom and off down the long stone hallway like a shot.
I heard Larson right behind me, screaming that I was a little shit and I would pay, but I put on a burst of speed, thanking Ryse in my head for his strict training as I did.
It was a close race. I could feel him panting at my back and several times he grabbed for me, and I felt his thick fingers sliding over the back of my uniform jacket. But every time I managed to put on just a little more speed until I pulled ahead of him.
At last after what could only be a minute or two but felt like eternity, the golden door to the Hatching Grounds was in sight. Feeling like my lungs might collapse and my legs might give way from sheer exhaustion, I reached for the knob and tore open the door.
Then I collapsed inside, panting, knowing that Larson couldn’t reach me here. If he tried anything on the holy ground of the Hatching Sands, he’d be kicked out of the Academy—dragon or no dragon.
Sure enough, though the golden door on its hinges rattled behind me, it didn’t open again. I could hear his angry panting through the wooden panel, but he didn’t dare to pursue me.
At last I turned to survey the scene in front of me. Surely, I wasn’t too late, I thought. Larson had only managed to delay me for five minutes—ten minutes tops. Surely there would still be some eggs left, looking for a rider.
But when I looked around, I saw that every single First-year I knew was already standing by an egg. Some were stroking the colorful shells and others were humming or talking to the drakelings inside. A few were even crouched in the heated sands with their arms around their egg, heedless of the heat burning their legs.
Master Yarsmouth walked over to me with a regretful look on his face.
“I’m sorry, lad,” he said. “They’re all spoken for. Where were you earlier? I’m afraid there’s not a single egg left.”
35
AURORA
I stood there stunned, unable to answer. I’d been warned that Impression happens in an instant—that the moment the shells of the eggs hardened the drakelings inside would be seeking their rider. But I still just couldn’t process how a ten-minute delay had cost me my entire future at the Academy.
Larson won, I thought numbly, surveying the shiny black Hatching Sands and all the happy cadets, stroking their eggs. He won—it’s over. Leesbruck was right—I was never meant to get an egg. I’m too small, too weak. I could never…
And then I heard it—floating through the air like a melody for my ears alone, I heard a soft, plaintive whisper in the back of my brain.
“come…please…need you.”
It was so faint I could barely “hear” it and yet it tickled my brain and wouldn’t stop.
Ignoring Master Yarsmouth, who was still trying to comfort me, I walked out onto the burning sands, looking for the source of the tiny mind-sound.
I walked past Jorn-o, who was stroking a medium sized green egg with a beatific smile on his face and Leaper who was squatting beside a large, amber colored egg that shimmered bronze in the golden light from the overhead glows. Toady and Bugs had eggs too, but I ignored them all as I followed the tiny musical wail only I could hear.