Pryce leaned forward against Stormwing's neck, squinting at the endless expanse of Lake Dragontide stretching before them. The sun hung low on the horizon as each beat of the dragon's wings came slower than the last, her muscles trembling with exhaustion.

"How much further?" he called over his shoulder to Seren.

The princess tightened her grip around his waist as Stormwing dropped several feet before catching herself. "Not far now. Look—there, where the clouds meet the water."

Pryce followed her gesture to a dark smudge on the horizon. Stormwing let out a whimper.

"She's tired," Seren said, her breath warm against Pryce’s ear. "Storm dragons are strong, but this journey tests even the hardiest of them."

"Come on, girl." Pryce patted Stormwing's neck. "Just a little further."

The dragon's wing beats grew more labored. Every few strokes, she'd dip dangerously close to the water's surface. Pryce remembered his father's stories of ships lost in Lake Dragontide's depths.

"There!" Seren pointed. "Drakemere Island!"

The smudge on the horizon had turned into a magnificent cliff face that seemed to pierce the clouds. As they drew closer, Pryce's mouth fell open. An entire palace had been carved into the rock, its windows and balconies adorned with dragon motifs. Dragon-sized openings dotted the cliff face like honeycomb.

Above them, dragons wheeled through the air—not just one or two, but dozens. Storm dragons like Stormwing, their scales flickering with contained lightning. Sleek shadow drakes that seemed to bend the light around them. Even a massive fire drake, its wings trailing ember-bright sparks.

Stormwing's head lifted at the sight of her own kind. She let out a thunderous greeting call that echoed across the water. Several storm dragons broke from their aerial dance to escort them in.

"Welcome to my home," Seren said as they approached a vast landing platform jutting from the cliff face.

Pryce's wonder at the impressive sight clashed with his apprehension as he spotted the platform's greeting party. Unlike Seren's subtle dragon-scale markings, these Dragonkin bore prominent scales across their faces and arms.

As Stormwing landed heavily on the platform, her legs trembling with exhaustion, the assembled Dragonkin dropped into deep bows. Pryce scrambled to dismount, nearly stumbling on shaky legs.

"Your pets cannot enter the palace," Seren said, eyeing Ash and Skye with barely concealed disdain. "They can stay with your dragon in her stable."

"But surely Ash could—" Pryce began.

"No pets inside," Seren cut him off. "Palace rules."

Pryce paused, wanting to protest the palace rules. Instead, he said, "Where will Stormwing's stable be?"

Seren gestured to an elaborate structure jutting from the cliff face, level with the palace grounds. "There. I've arranged for her to have one of our finest stables, close to your quarters for easy access." She turned to a nearby servant. "Take the cat and bird to the dragon's stable."

The servant stepped forward, trying to corral Ash and Skye. The cat bristled, and Skye let out an indignant squawk.

"It's okay," Pryce told them. "Go to the stable. I'll visit soon."

He watched helplessly as his pets were led away, Ash's tail dragging low and Skye flying reluctant circles above. Beside him, Stormwing collapsed onto her belly with an exhausted huff, her wings twitching from the long journey. Her breath came in heavy pants, stirring his hair with each exhale.

"Princess Seren," the gathered Dragonkin said in unison.

"Rise," Seren said, her voice carrying an authority that surprised Pryce. "This is Pryce Harper-Green of Crystal Shores, a gifted dragon trainer."

A tall figure stepped forward from the group, and Pryce fought the urge to step back. The man's features were highlighted by subtle gray scales that looked like polished steel. Intricate dragon-scale tattoos wound up his arms.

"Master Kestrel," Seren said. "I trust you received my message about our guest?"

"Indeed, Your Highness." His voice was melodic, each word precisely chosen. "Young Master Harper-Green's reputation precedes him. Not many can bond with a storm dragon so quickly." His gray eyes studied Pryce with an intensity that made him feel uneasy. "Particularly not one so . . . untrained."

Before Pryce could respond, Stormwing let out a low rumble. Several of the airborne storm dragons had landed nearby, and she was watching them with interest.

"Go on," Pryce told her. "Make some friends."

Master Kestrel's eyebrows rose slightly as Stormwing immediately bounded toward the other dragons. "Interesting. Most storm dragons are far more territorial with strangers." He turned to Pryce. "Perhaps there's more to you than meets the eye, young man."

"The journey was long," Seren said. "Pryce should rest before tonight's feast."

"Of course." Master Kestrel gestured to a young Dragonkin with copper-colored scales. "Show our guest to the Azure Suite."

As Pryce followed his guide into the palace, his eyes widened at the grandeur around him. The corridors were vast enough for dragons to pass through comfortably, their walls adorned with luminous crystals that cast a warm glow. Elaborate tapestries depicted dragons and Dragonkin working together in harmony.

"Not quite the savage lair you expected?" the copper-scaled youth asked.

Pryce felt his face flush. "I . . . well . . ."

"Don't worry. We're used to outsiders' misconceptions." They stopped before an ornately carved door. "The feast begins at eveningbell. Someone will come for you." The young Dragonkin hesitated, then offered a slight bow. "I'm Aurix, by the way. Third-year apprentice to Master Kestrel."

Pryce found himself relaxing slightly at the other boy's friendly tone. "Pryce Harper-Green," he said, then added with an awkward laugh, "First-day apprentice to, well, everything, I suppose."

"First time away from home?"

"That obvious, huh?"

"Only to someone who remembers their own first day. The Azure Suite can be a bit overwhelming at first, but you'll get used to it. Just . . ." He glanced down the hallway before continuing in a lower voice, "don't touch the blue vase by the window. It's worth more than both our lives combined."

The Azure Suite took Pryce's breath away. The ceiling soared overhead, and one entire wall opened onto a private balcony overlooking the dragon nests below. The furniture was elegant yet sturdy, crafted from deep blue wood he'd never seen before. A massive bed dominated one corner, its covers embroidered with silver thread that mimicked dragon scales.

Pryce set his worn bag on an entry table, its surface inlaid with shimmering mother-of-pearl. The contrast between his meager belongings and the table's opulence made him self-conscious. He propped his bow and quiver against the wall beside it, careful not to scratch it.

Pryce walked to the balcony, gripping the railing as he watched Stormwing playing with the other storm dragons. They swooped and dove, occasionally releasing small bursts of lightning that crackled between them like a game of catch.

"She seems happy," Seren's voice came from behind him.

Pryce turned to find her leaning against the doorframe. "Storm dragons are social creatures," she said, joining him at the railing. "It's cruel to keep them isolated."

"I never meant to—"

"Of course not." She placed her hand over his on the railing. "You didn't know. Just as your people don't know the truth about us." She sighed, watching the dragons below. "Our people have been pushed to these islands, Pryce. We're not the monsters your stories make us out to be. We're fighting to preserve our way of life."

"The stories say you raid coastal villages, steal children—"

"Some do," she admitted. "There are extremists in every society. But most of us? We just want to live in peace, to maintain our connection to the dragons." Her violet eyes met his. "That's why you're here. To learn, to understand. To help bridge the gap between our peoples."

***

The feast hall pulsed with energy and laughter. Fire lamps cast light on walls covered in scales that Pryce realized, with a start, were real. The ceiling opened to the night sky where dragons occasionally swooped past, their silhouettes blocking out the stars.

Pryce tugged at the high collar of the formal attire he'd found laid out on his bed. He felt both overdressed and somehow still inadequate among the Dragonkin nobility.

"Wine, boy?" A scarred Dragonkin warrior thrust a goblet toward him. His grin revealed sharp canines. "Best vintage from the mainland." The warrior's words slurred slightly as he swayed on his feet.

"Thank you," Pryce said, accepting the goblet but only pretending to sip. These weren't the bloodthirsty raiders from his father's and Finnegan’s stories. They seemed more like soldiers celebrating a long-awaited peace.

"Careful with Razorclaw's wine," Master Kestrel appeared at his elbow. "It's stronger than what you're used to in Crystal Shores." He guided Pryce away from the increasingly rowdy group of warriors. "Walk with me."

They moved to a quieter corner of the hall where a massive window overlooked the dragon aeries. Stormwing was curled up with two other storm dragons.

"She's remarkable," Master Kestrel said, nodding toward Stormwing. "Raw potential, like her rider. Tell me, what do you know of dragon training?"

"Only what I've read in books, and what seems . . . natural, I suppose."

"Natural." Master Kestrel smiled. "Yes, that's precisely what makes you interesting. Most trainers spend years learning rigid techniques, proper forms. But you?" He gestured to where Stormwing lay. "You achieved in days what takes others months. Pure instinct."

"Is that . . . good?"

"It's rare. And it could be very good indeed, with proper guidance." Master Kestrel turned to face him fully. "I'd like to train you, Pryce. Not here—Drakemere is too . . . political for real training. I have a facility on Dragon's Fang Island. It's where I work with our most promising riders."

Excitement surged through Pryce at the opportunity, then faded as he realized what it meant. "Even further from home?"

"Success requires sacrifice." Master Kestrel's voice softened. “I know it's not an easy choice. But think of what you could achieve. The wealth you could earn for your family. The bridges you could build between our peoples."

A burst of raucous laughter drew Pryce's attention back to the feast. Through the crowd, he spotted Seren speaking with a group of nobles, every inch the princess. She caught his eye and smiled, but something in her expression seemed strained.

"Think on it," Master Kestrel said. "But don't think too long. Opportunities, like the tide, wait for no one."

Later that night, Pryce stood on his balcony, watching Stormwing below. She was different here—more animated, more herself. A natural part of the storm dragons' social circle had immediately accepted her.

"What should we do, girl?" he whispered into the night air. "Master Kestrel's right about the opportunities, about helping my family. And maybe . . ." he thought of Seren's words about bridging the gap between their peoples, "maybe we could do some real good here."

Stormwing looked up at him and let out a soft chirp that echoed off the cliff face. In the shadows behind her, a darker shape moved—a shadow drake, seeming almost predatory.

Something was happening here, something bigger than his simple dream of becoming a dragon trainer.