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  At that moment, something clicked in my mind. I'd do everything I could to protect something so innocent and precious. Yet, my mom hadn't done the same. She'd never wanted me. She was selfish.

  My grandmother's words floated through my mind, haunting me, 'Celine chose drugs over you.'

  Celine didn't give a shit about me. Why should I care about her?

  I'd already wasted too much time and energy trying to figure her out. And for what? So that I could find out how much she didn't want me, how much she didn't care?

  I ran from the cemetery, scaring birds into the air as my feet slogged through the muddy ground. Panting, I pulled the gates closed behind me and took one last look through the bars.

  There was nothing there inside that graveyard for me: nothing but regrets and disappointment.

  11

  George's letter had been weighing on me for almost two weeks now.

  It was time to open it.

  The sun was fading into the trees, and most students were at Friday dinner, so the usually crowded space was empty.

  I stopped in the quad and sat down at a picnic table beneath a large leafy tree. Birds chattered, and the wind made me shiver in my short-sleeved Balaur polo shirt.

  Pulling out George's letter from my back pocket, I laid it on the rough surface in front of me. Taya told me it had been sent in some other papers with a fake name and return address. Hidden in that package was this envelope with one word—Darling—George's pet name for me.

  Dipping a finger inside an edge of the flap, I tore it open. I smoothed it out and began decoding it.

  * * *

  Yes, I meant everything I wrote in my last letter. I can't tell you how sorry I am. You do deserve answers—the Stygian Ritual. Celine and I were only researching the Awakening Ceremony. This wasn't treason; it was progress. We were in a cave beneath the old Harrow house to access the dragon realm, but before we could finish, our lantern fell over and started a fire. The basement was filled with boxes, and once they lit, there was nothing we could do.

  I love you, darling. I'll write again.

  * * *

  My eyes had filled, and when my pen scratched the final word, a sob escaped my lips.

  Then what I read sank in, I stopped crying, and the blood drained from my face. George and Celine had burned Harrow House down. THEY burned it down!

  Did my mom have the Stygian Ritual? Is this why she overdosed on drugs?

  Is this what my grandmother meant when she said, "…they got in trouble again. Arthur was able to keep it quiet, but not even he could save her."

  "Oh my god!" I whispered.

  Some part of me knew that Celine and George had something to do with Harrow House. But George's letter only made me more curious. I needed to learn more about the fire, and to do that, I had to request more Dragonborn Daily articles on microfiche.

  Nearly running to the library, I found the student aide, who reluctantly found the films. As she left me in the computer lab with the box, she reminded me that the library closed in two hours.

  Luckily, I knew the fire's exact date, and the first article was almost easy to find.

  I read through it under my breath, "Early on the morning of April 19, 58 were injured when Harrow House at Balaur Academy caught fire. The Fire brigade was called a little after 3 am and worked into the early hours to put out the flames. Although the historic dormitory looks fairly unscathed, sources say the building will most likely be torn down and rebuilt due to structural damage. Head of Harrow House, professor Denis Menchov, credits Harrow staff and fire alarms for quickly clearing the building. All injuries were treated on site and released. No cause of the fire has been officially announced, although arson is suspected."

  I reread the article and was about to look for more on the fire when I caught sight of Logan in my peripheral vision as he entered the computer lab.

  "Syd, we've gone through everything. If there was something to be found, we'd have found it," he told me, peering over my shoulder at the article. "Hmmm… why are you looking into the fire?"

  I couldn't lie—he'd know.

  I lifted a shoulder, "A fire at Harrow… it's odd, don't you think?"

  "I don't know. It was old and had bad electrical. I heard that it was a miracle the place hadn't burned down before then. Unlike Drake, Harrow was all wood." Logan picked up a rubber band ball from the counter and began tossing it into the air and catching it.

  I turned in my chair and watched him. "So, it wasn't started by someone or done on purpose?"

  He shook his head, giving me a strange look. "No, like I said—it was like wiring or something."

  I pointed to my screen, "Then why does the Daily Dragon say 'arson is suspected?’ "

  He shrugged again. "Look, don't you think that if someone burned down Harrow, we would know about it?"

  Would we? I wondered. How much could the PL cover-up?

  Apparently, a fire, Aaraeth answered.

  Logan's voice broke into my thoughts, "Give yourself a break for once. Have fun, come on. Olivia and Nate want to go to movie night on the quad."

  My research into the fire went nowhere. It had been declared to be caused by faulty wiring, just as Logan said. But… someone had to know the truth.

  I considered going to Denis Menchov, the professor who was still head of Harrow House, but I changed my mind after some thought. If my mom and George burned it down, that was the last thing I needed to become public knowledge.

  Most of the other students still avoided me, but at least they'd stopped calling me names… for the most part. I didn't need another excuse for them to start up again.

  I felt at home now. I'd gotten my grades up, and things were going well. I had my group of friends with Olivia, Nate, and Logan.

  Other than Ashe being god knows where, doing god knows what.

  My current problem was what I called 'George troubles.'

  These were things that would pop up because of my untraditional education and happen when I least expected.

  Like, in a math test.

  I'd been taught by George to do equations in my head and use tricks and shortcuts, but my teacher wanted everything written out in each equation. I understood that there were a lot of good reasons for this, but in the middle of a quiz or test, I always seemed to forget what they were.

  So, there I sat, cross-legged in the hallway during my study hour, dealing with another 'George Trouble' when Eli stopped in front of me.

  "Retaking the algebra quiz?" He asked.

  I nodded, "You?"

  "Yeah," he said, trying to peek through the frosted window into the classroom.

  We hadn't spoken in a while. Sure, I'd see Eli in class, but the only thing that passed between us was a wave of the hand or a nod of the head. He was from Harrow House and didn't like my Drake friends. That was fine by me because I didn't exactly like his Harrow friends.

  Eli sat across from me, leaning against the scuffed wall.

  Cracking his knuckles, he asked, "How have you been?"

  "I'm good, you?" I picked a white thread from my leggings—while technically not dress code approved, I got away with wearing them occasionally—they were black like the school pants.

  "I notice you're still hanging around Logan Brooks." The Harrow Prime mentioned… but not very casually.

  "So?" I glared at him with a 'stay out of my business' look.

  "Jeez, I'm just trying to have a conversation with you. No need to get all cranky," he told me as his eyes roamed the phone in his hand.

  I tapped a pencil against my notebook. "Why does it matter who I hang out with?"

  He straightened and met my gaze, his honey-colored eyes narrowed. "Because Logan is a major douche."

  I huffed out a breathy laugh. "Do you even hear yourself? What do you have against Logan? You don't even know him."

  He held his hands wide. "Hey, I thought you were with Ashe, that's all. By all means, play the field," he said sarcastically, his lips curving into a tight
smile.

  I wasn't going to dignify that with a response.

  I'd made no secret that Logan was my friend. Not to Ashe, not to anyone. I had nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to hide, and nothing to change.

  Standing, I slapped my leg with my notebook and frowned down at Eli.

  Thankfully the door opened, and our teacher ushered us inside the classroom. I grabbed the new quiz from my teacher and sat down next to the window.

  But Eli's words stayed with me.

  Why did everyone in the Dragonborn community believe they had a say in my life? Let alone my love life or my non-love life with Ashe. So, what if I hung out with Logan Brooks? What did it matter? We were just friends…

  Are you sure that's all you are? Aaraeth asked seriously, her tone absent of judgment for once.

  My mind wandered to my conversations with Logan. When he was near, he'd always find excuses to brush my arm or touch me.

  He's just friendly, I told my Dragon. But seriously, would it really hurt if maybe something happened with Logan? At least he's here and cares about me.

  Aaraeth listened to my rant but said nothing as she assessed my mind, digging deeper into my own thoughts than I could.

  Sighing, I told her, I don't mean that… You know I don't mean that. I'm just frustrated. Ashe has been gone for a long time. And even if he were here, the guy can't even touch me. And those dreams you say are caused by the bond… every bloody time I have those dreams… of us together, it just makes me depressed. It makes me see what I can't have.

  I sighed heavily, leaning my chin on my hand and gazing blindly out into the quad at nothing. I rambled on to Aaraeth again, but Logan… Logan is here, and…

  She snorted.

  What? I asked her testily for interrupting my thoughts.

  You need to work on your test, or you'll flunk it… again.

  She was right, and I hated that she was right, but I fought her anyway. What? I'm sure you have something to say about Logan. Well? Spit it out.

  An exasperated tone laced her words as she thought to me, you may think you have all these ideas, but you won't act on them.

  I let out an audible guffaw, earning looks from my math teacher and the two other students retaking the quiz.

  You don't know… I could.

  Aaraeth grunted. You won't.

  Don't tempt me.

  She hissed, It is not I who tempts you. You, humans, are impatient.

  The small timer on my teacher's desk buzzed.

  My time was up, and I'd only gotten halfway through the test.

  Thanks a lot, Aaraeth!

  You have only yourself to blame. I tried to warn you.

  I knew she was right, but I refused to give in.

  Aaraeth was also right about Logan. When Logan hugged me or touched my arm, it only made me miss Ashe. How could anything ever work out between us if I always thought of someone else?

  After a long drawn out session of begging and arguing, my math teacher had agreed to let me retake the quiz tomorrow. However, one problem solved, another created—I was late to my next class: Dragon 102. While I liked the subject matter, it was embarrassing to be placed in a class with much younger students.

  I tried to slip inside while Dr. Weaver's back was turned. My luck had run out when she pierced me with her sharp gaze and said, "You showed up just in time, Miss Miller."

  I fell into my seat and prayed she would leave it at that.

  Dr. Weaver turned and faced the class as a whole before motioning to the table, sitting in the front of the classroom. On the table sat a red iridescent egg-shaped object covered with a large glass dome. The egg was the size of a basketball and scaled like parts of a dragon. It glimmered in the sunlight that filtered in through the blinds as it sat in an oversized carved egg cup.

  "Does anyone know what this is?" The professor asked.

  A few hands shot up, but instead, Dr. Weaver turned toward me. "Miss Miller?"

  I raised my eyebrows, "It looks like an egg."

  "Yes, Miss Miller? But more specifically… Aaron," she said, pointing to one of the younger students.

  "It's a dragon egg," he called out, giving me a smug look.

  I cocked my head to the side, wondering how that was possible.

  Dr. Weaver smiled. "Yes, it is a wyvern egg. This particular egg is over two hundred years old and on loan from a private collection. Dragon eggs are rarely seen because they're essential tools that work only in the dragon realm. Do you notice that it's intact —whole? After the dragon emerges from the egg, the shell is left to dry out. Then the dragon creates a glue by chewing up bark from a special tree in the dragon realm. It uses this glue to put the egg back together. The egg then becomes an anchor to their homeland.

  "Dragons need an anchor before they can be called from their own world into ours during the Awakening Ritual. But they need two anchors to travel between their world and ours. The egg is the anchor on their end, and we, as Dragonborn, are the anchor here. Yes, you are the portal for your Dragon, the doorway that they use to access our world. Without their egg back home, they would be stuck in our world, unable to ever leave. As we all know, when they aren't here, they're in the dragon realm."

  Aaraeth? You have an egg?

  Of course. Don't you?

  No. Humans are different. I told her.

  My mind felt like it would explode. I raised my hand but didn't wait to be called on, "Dr. Weaver, you said that we are the anchor here. What is the portal? What enables the dragon to come through?"

  She smiled, "You are the portal. But the marks on your skin, they’re the anchor."

  "But…"

  She cut me off, "Miss Miller, you may visit me in your off period with your questions, but as of now, I have a lesson to teach."

  A dragon egg was kind of a big thing not to know about.

  This was just another reminder that I was an outsider.

  I pressed my lips together and gazed at the egg. If my mom and George were researching the Awakening Ritual, they must have known all about dragons and how they work.

  I listened intently and took notes. Meanwhile, the younger students looked bored and uninterested.

  12

  Saturday morning, I sat on my bed after finishing some homework. Looking at my phone, I opened my text messages with Ashe. I hadn't heard from him in over a month. He told me he'd be out of contact, but this was getting ridiculous. Was he trying to avoid me? Ignoring me? Had he lied to me to get some space?

  Aaraeth hissed, Don't be ridiculous. Eondian talks to me every day.

  I sank into my pillows. "Really? Where are they?"

  Ashe works buried inside a mountain. He also went to a place where there is no sun.

  I raised an eyebrow and asked, Like a bunker?

  A place with trees and a lot of snow.

  I heaved a sigh and ran a hand over my face. Sitting in the lotus position, I closed my eyes and reached out with my mind to Eondian.

  They weren't too far away, which surprised me.

  Eondian, I called to him.

  I am here, he said—his deep tones rumbling in my brain.

  You're close. I sense it.

  Yes. We are in a place with mountains.

  I snorted. There are a lot of mountains in the States.

  How is Ashe? Is he okay?

  The beast hesitated, and I smiled, knowing Eondian spoke to Ashe. My heart weighed heavy in my chest. Why on earth would the people in charge put him on a classified mission when he was in this situation?

  Eondian's rumbling voice broke into my thoughts. Ashe works. He takes the world and turns it into numbers… we sense your pain. We have this as well.

  I… tell Ashe I miss him.

  Eondian's reply came hesitantly. He tries to pretend that he does not miss you, but he does. He thinks of you often, yet I do not understand his emotions.

  Oh… they're bad? I asked.

  No… they make him uncomfortable. He is too caught up in Human conventionssssss
, he hissed.

  A knock on the door startled me and abruptly ended my conversation with Eondian.

  I sprawled on my bed in exasperation.

  "Come in!" I called.

  Olivia strolled through the doorway toward me. Tapping my outstretched foot with her hand, she moved my leg over so she could sit on the bed too. "There's a bunch of people getting together for a hike down to the river. Want to go?" She tossed one of my notebooks onto the desk. "Tell me you don't have homework. All I've seen you do is study!"

  I began to gather my things up. "Yeah, you're a terrible influence—Miss A+ Student. A hike? That sounds fun."

  She shrugged, "We'll see. If it's too muddy, then Nate and I'll turn back early."

  Through my open window, shouts of laughter floated in on the spring breeze. I felt the outdoors calling me, and I needed a distraction from the puzzle that was Ashe Carrick.

  "When is everyone leaving?" I skootched to the edge of my bed before standing.

  Liv checked her watch, "Like ten minutes… meet me down between Harrow and Drake as soon as you get ready. We'll wait for you." By we, I knew automatically that she meant Logan, Nate, and her.

  "Okay, by the picnic tables?"

  She nodded before bouncing out the door.

  There was so much to talk to Olivia about, my dad's latest letter and now Eondian's weird comments. But she'd been with Nate or both Nate and Logan always. It's not that I didn't like hanging out with the guys, but there were things I didn't want them to know about—somethings that just felt too personal to talk about with the guys, like Ashe and the fire.

  Digging out a pair of leggings, I pulled them on along with wool socks and a fleece. It was early May, but the wind could still be pretty chilly. I loaded my backpack with a rain jacket before making my way down to the kitchen. Once there, I grabbed a pre-made sandwich, an orange, and two bottles of carbonated waters. Then I hesitated, debating between cookies or brownies.

  "Where you going?" Esther asked, spreading peanut butter onto a piece of toast.