“Then go claim your Elthika, Sorrina.”

But don’t claim Lygath was what was unspoken between us.

He turned to call for Zaridan on his black cuff, but I snagged his arm. His hands dove into my hair when I stood on my tiptoes to give him a deep, long kiss. He breathed me in. I knew he would take Zaridan to the very bottom of the ravine beneath my ledge…just in case. But I also knew he wouldn’t tell me that.

“My only fear is disappointing you,” I confessed to him when I pulled away, blinking back the sudden tears that pricked my eyes.

“Then you have nothing to fear, Klara,” Sarkin said simply.

A smile broke over my face, the first one that entire morning since we left the village at dawn.

“Lysi?” he asked, tipping up my chin.

My smile only widened at the Dakkari word, and I nodded, taking a huge breath, letting it fill my lungs, letting it ground me, even as high up as I was along the cliffs.

“Lysi,” I replied. “Go.”

His eyes flashed down to my right hand, where the tether he’d given me this morning was hanging, as if in assurance.

His gaze connected with mine. We looked at one another for long moments, only interrupted when Zaridan swooped low overhead, all the other wild Elthika scattering away from her. It seemed to please her, their fear. Their reverence.

Sarkin said, “Tight core, brace low.”

Then he jumped off the cliff edge, right onto Zaridan’s back, my heart leaping in my throat. He made it look so easy, but he’d had years of practice. I studied his easy positioning, where he had his boots locked into place at the harness, now knowing how much leg strength it took to keep them there with the velocity of flight.

He was a beautiful, accomplished rider. I could appreciate that now.

Sarkin flew out of sight, circling down to the bottom of the cliff pass…

Then I was alone.

The Tharken cliffs had been transformed since Sarkin had brought me here. Wild Elthika were all over the cliff sides, latching their taloned claws into the rock face, clinging to edges and navigating more easily than I thought possible.

I was high up. Alone, as Sammenth had recommended. That morning, at dawn, I’d ridden with Sarkin and, seemingly, an entire horde of dragons behind us. Most of the village had come to attend the illa’rosh. They’d gone to the opposite mountain, which had an excellent view of the cliffs. There was a flat rocky surface toward the very peak, and many had set up camp, similar in appearance to a Dakkari horde. Domed animal-hide tents—though the Sarrothian used a dark cloth material—and communal cooking areas. There was an air of excitement, or jovial celebration, even though most of the riders in attendance had been deathly quiet during the initial meeting with Kyavor.

There were other hordes from Karak in attendance as well. Sarkin told me that the Karath of the North had made camp on the northern mountain, though I couldn’t see them from the vantage I had facing south. The northerners had been here for a couple days now. Their illa’rosh had already begun. One rider had already taken a death fall, trying to claim a Vyrin—though which one, no one could say for certain.

I wondered if Lygath was here.

I know he is, came my next thought. I stood at the edge of the cliff, pressing my hand in the rock face of the mountain, peering down. The world swayed. I’d never been so high up when I hadn’t been on Zaridan. Something about being stationary and looking down to a bottomless pit struck me as wrong.

The wind whipped my hair around my face, the tendrils that had escaped from my braid. From this vantage point, across the valley, I spied the telltale flash of Vyaria’s blue-scaled vest when it reflected off sunlight. She was on the same ledge as Kan—her cousin—but many of my peers had chosen to be alone for the choosing. I saw others dotted around various points across the cliffs.

When I’d been searching for a suitable ledge with Sarkin, I’d seen other riders I hadn’t recognized.

Blood borns from other territories, Sarkin had explained to me, his lips brushing my ear. They’ll be trying for Vyrins. It’s best to stay away from them. They’ll be ruthless.

My heart lurched in my chest when I thought I spied a silver-scaled dragon across the valley, flying low. A moment later, he emerged out of sunlight and I saw that it was only a trick of the reflection off his scales. He was dark gray in color, and I watched as he circled back around one particular rider, sizing him up, as the rider’s head swiveled, tracking him in the sky.

There was a roaring sound that came, emitted from a beautiful light blue Elthika.

In the blink of an eye, I watched as Vyaria took a running sprint off the ledge of her cliffside. My heart thundered in my chest, watching her aim for the light blue Elthika. Smaller than others around the Tharken cliffs, but regal nonetheless.

At the last moment, the dragon sharply turned, and my stomach lurched. “No,” I breathed.

Vyaria landed on the Elthika hard but not cleanly. I watched with bated breath as my training peer grappled with her tether, digging her hands into the scales, trying to get a grip so she wouldn’t fall off the edge. Kyavor had told us that certain Elthika might test their riders during the choosing. Was this what this one was doing? Or was she trying to reject Vyaria?

The Elthika banked until Vyaria was almost vertical, dangling from her chosen dragon with only a precarious grip on the edge of a few scales. The Elthika righted itself, and Vyaria used the momentum to swing herself up. I heard her cry of exertion, the strength and will it took, echo through the cliffs. I saw the slim flash of her tether as she swung it around the Elthika’s neck, using the sliding metal hook to tighten it like a leash.

Vyaria got into a rider’s position, even without the comfort of a harness. Everyone seemed to wait with bated breath, to see if the Elthika would accept her, return her to the cliffside…or let her fall.

The Elthika let out another roar, and I watched as they both ascended, flying higher and higher…

The first flight.

Cheers raised up from the other riders, dotted along the pass, and I breathed out a shuddering sigh, my knees feeling a little weak. Everyone was watching. The eyes of hundreds on one Sarrothian girl and one Elthika, taking their first flight together.

How many eyes will be on you? came the nasty thought, making my heart freeze with trepidation. How many will watch if you fail?

Just like that, Vyaria had claimed her Elthika. The first of our peers. And she’d only been on the cliffside for mere moments.

Sammenth had told me the choosing could happen quickly or could drag on until the Elthika decided they’d had enough and left the cliffs entirely.

Suddenly I wished that I felt the relief that Vyaria must’ve been feeling right this moment. How wonderful it must’ve felt, to know that what you’d worked hard for was just realized. That you could silence the fear.

I watched Vyaria and her Elthika until the sun blotted them out. I dragged in a deep breath, my eyes scanning the cliffside again, waiting, just like all the riders.

Be patient, I reminded myself. I knew the others might feel pressure now. They, too, envied Vyaria’s relief, coveted her success. Would some try to claim their Elthika not because it was the right choice but because it was the easy choice?

My head craned over the side of the cliff. I couldn’t even see the bottom, a steady mist was covering it. Mist that hadn’t burned away in the sunlight because the shadows of the cliffs kept it protected.

There was no sign of Zaridan, but I knew they were there. Somewhere. Sarkin would wait until I claimed an Elthika. Or failed. He would wait for as long as it took, patrolling the pass.