Bloodlines: Dragon Rider Book 2

Chapter 20: Burn Marks

Unknowingly, I've fallen into a slouch and glance at Holland who walks around the arena's edge, watching the water and the platform over it.

    The first teams stand and make our way to the weapons rack. I glance at Easton who gives a small, private smile when Ekon is distracted. Though I don't have much energy to do so, I wink at him just to make him smile brighter. Even from here, I see the pink flush spreading over his cheeks as he turns back to the group.

    I wait for my team to gather their weapons at the racks. The mages don't normally use weapons, preferring their abilities, but they still make use of the offered weaponry. Below us, waves thunder like a herd of trampling bison, spraying mist up and onto my face. I imagine the pain someone -- or I -- will feel by falling into the false ocean.

    With my bow strung around my chest and quiver on my back, I glance to the small portal near the instructors. Unlike Lucas' black portal, this center overlooks something too dark to see. Another, one much bigger hovers in the air, allowing hundreds of other people a closer look at the fight to come.

    "Norah." My face loosens, but not in relaxation. I glance over my shoulder with bored, disinterested eyes.

    Renora approaches with the elegance and grace of a goddess. Her short hair sways within the wind and emphasizes her sharp features. I take my revenge where I can and let my eyes examine her dark, blood-red armor once before turning back to the crowd.

    "Fireproof armor," I say cooly, wanting to smirk at an old memory. "Thinking my dragon might bite you, mother?"

    She comes to my side, smiling lovingly with a voice just as sweet. You've always been a better actor with an audience. "How are you, dear?" She brushes a stray hair into my wrapped braids.

    I lean away, wanting to freeze her throat shut. "What do you want?"

    Her lip curls, pleased. "The rumors are true, the dragon riders have dulled your senses."

"Rumors you probably started." With the edge so close, I think about pushing her off. She wouldn't die or drown, not with skin healers so near and hydromages standing at the ready, but she would be humiliated.

"Trust me, dear," she says. "I didn't have to start them."

"Trusting is for the weak." Anger coils through me like a string ready to snap. "And you don't talk to me unless you need something, so what do you want?"

"You've grown sloppy with the dragon riders," she begins. "This training has made you weak."

I scoff. "So you're here to insult me? Don't you have some war to be planning? Isn't that a better use of your time instead of wasting it on me?"

"A war is on its way, dear, and I cannot have someone like you running around humiliating every mage around. You've already done enough of that by continuing to breathe."

"The dead aren't going to insult Norah," Holland snaps. Relief and dread mix like hot and cold water colliding as he steps between us. I clench my jaw. Wedging himself into Crimson affairs won't end well for either of us. Already, I can hear mother's sneers about my old instructor coming in to save the day.

Holland glares at her. "Your purpose isn't here. Why don't we all go to where we're needed." His eyes flick to me but I stare at Renora with a blank look.

I should have stayed home.

Renora gives him a once over, the same one that Clarika gave him when they first met, only hers cuts like glass. Her loving appearance contorts with disgust, but the moment she looks at me, the mask is back. She smiles, stepping back and beckons me forward. "Very well. Come along, Norah."