26

“You’re late.”

“I’m early.”

“Not to me.” Bastien pointed down the Cave’s sloping passageway. The scant light of the moon faded as the woven grass cover rustled into place, and the growing darkness made his sharp smile look even more sinister.

Anzi followed the direction of his jabbing finger without another word. She had no time to waste on him. She was here on a mission, one more important than any argument no matter how irritating he was, especially since Bastien had laughed in her face last night when she spoke of soul bonds and a singular meant-to-be waiting for her in one of the dragon eggs. He had said she was being ridiculous, but if it made her feel better to think that way, he didn’t care so long as they found a good steed for her. Steed, as if dragons weren’t noble creatures with great intelligence even if it was different from that of humans. She knew it. She saw it in Colonel Bisset’s dragon every time she found herself at the center of the creature’s heavy gaze, somethi