"Daughter-Of-Kelani! Despite your assurances, you remain in Felra. Why?!”

Khosa’s voice bellows across the aerie as she provocatively flares her vintage gray wings to her sides. With the eyes of the elders staring down at me like hungry hawks, I recite a practiced excuse, the best one I could invent in the day since my failed departure at Archer’s Landing.

“I-I was too late. Son-Of-Zuki told me the winds were still calm and that I had at least another day to fly home. But the winds were too strong when I arrived at the ledge.”

Yes, that’s right: Facing down the elders on the gathering stone in White Mountain, I’m throwing Relmoon under the bus. And he deserves it, quite frankly! It makes me feel a pang of guilt, knowing I’m accusing the drakon who saved my life. But even if he wasn’t lying about the calm winds that day, he assured me the winds were safe, and I could fly home. I trusted him — it’s his fault, either way!

“I flew up and felt the winds personally,” Kuro says, standing beside me. “Even for someone skilled like Asha, it was far too dangerous. The calm winds have retreated until greenwing.”

“Hmph.” Khosa grunts, issuing a look of reproach. Her eyes flick to Kuro and then back toward me. “You blame Zuki’s son, yet it is clearly your fault. You were warned the crossing would become dangerous, and yet you dawdled until the beginning of frostwing.”

“But the winds should be calm,” Meldi objects, stepping forward to Khosa’s side. “Kin have returned to Felra this early in the season before. Do not blame Asha for what she could not have known.”

Khosa grunts, rolling her eyes and throwing her wings high. She gripes in a viciously sarcastic voice, “Very well then, Meldi. This child of the Goddess is our problem for another season. And the matter of her presence will remain unsettled.”

The ‘matter of my presence’ is the ominous message Keuvra left at my first gathering: ‘The fate of the Lordanou rests on your wings. I will return once the matter has been settled.’ Clearly, Khosa believes that Kevura will return to the flock once I fly home. If she’s right, then it could be months before that happens.

“She could be our ‘problem’ far longer should she wish to stay,” Uma says, standing in the back of the rock by the perennially silent elder, Ashene.

“Yes…” Khosa muses, perhaps reminded that it was their idea to force me to join the flock in the first place. “But Asha does not wish that, does she?”

I shake my head fervently. Absolutely not!

“Then, in the meantime, Asha will be a contributing member of the flock, as it was always expected of her,” Meldi says, appealing directly to Khosa.

Khosa studies Meldi for a silent moment before swiveling her gaze onto me. “I should hope your commitment to our summer hunting grounds has not waned?”

My heart quickens, remembering my promise to the elders — a promise I can no longer keep. I led them to believe I could talk to airships and used that as leverage to convince them to allow me into the flock. At the time, I was desperate and blissfully naive. I believed that once I returned home, it would only be a matter of time until my family learned of a way to turn me back to normal. Once I was a Lemur again, all I had to do was convince Mom to allow Kin to hunt in Ellyntide.

But nothing seems sure anymore — even returning to my original form. What if I’m truly trapped in the body of a Lithan? What if I can’t contact my family and tell them I’m alive? I convinced the entire flock I could simply talk to airship-prey and command them to ignore Kin. What’s going to happen when they find out I lied?

“Of course it hasn’t,” I tell Khosa, trying to remain calm. “Once I return home, I will command our Airship-Prey to leave Kin alone. Your hunting grounds will be restored.”

Mom had a saying back home: You can’t turn your tail to a good lie. Even if it seems hopeless, and I know I’ll never see my family again, I have to feign confidence. I have to sell them my lies until the bitter end.

Khosa studies me a moment before dipping her head. “Good. Prey is already scarce. There will be no shortage of hungry muzzles to feed in greenwing.”

A pang of guilt grows in my heart, understanding just how devastating my lie may become. They’re counting on me to help feed the flock next season. How many Dragons could go hungry because of me?

“Until that time,” Uma says, raising his voice and looking at Kuro. “Daughter-Of-Mecali. Please ensure Asha is useful to the flock and contributes as any member would.”

Kuro tips her wings in understanding. “We will hunt communal prey, just as Enyll and I would have done.”

“Good,” Uma says, pausing to draw a breath. “In addition, we expect both of you to participate in Couple’s Night.”

Kuro’s feathers bristle in shock. “What?! Couple’s Night? But that’s not fair!! Uma, you—“

Before she can explode in anger, I brush a wing against my soot-plumaged friend. Her body seizes, and she whips her gaze to me, fangs bared, a feather’s edge from going to war against the elders. As much as her fierce response makes me anxious, I could never ask Kuro to risk her standing in the flock by screaming at the elders for me. Thankfully, she keeps her muzzle shut and yields to let me speak.

“What is couple’s night?” I ask the elders in a more civil tone. Supposedly, Kuro and Relmoon met each other at that event.

“When Maki rises in frostwing,” Khosa says. “Unmated Kin assemble at the Grandfather Tree. As you have discovered, our flock is spread wide over Felra. For some, it can be difficult to encounter others and fulfill their obligation to start a family.”

Kuro scoffs loud enough for Khosa to hear it and pause her explanation. Her eyes narrow, and she stares down at Kuro but keeps herself firmly planted to stone. At the same time, Meldi’s feathers rise, and her muscles tense like she were ready to spring onto Khosa. Something unspoken is festering between them.

But before tensions can boil over, I force the conversation to continue. “So, you’re saying I have to go on a blind date with someone.”

Khosa pries her gaze from Kuro long enough to stare at me and tilt her head sideways. “You will be paired with a mate until morning. If Farlanders call that a ‘blind date,’ then you are correct.”

“Close enough,” I say, adding an uneasy chuckle.

Ugh, a blind date? The last thing I’m interested in right now is romance! I only want to survive until spring and get off this continent. I knew I would have to follow their traditions when I joined the flock, but why did blind dates have to be one of them?

“This is jimbaldung,” Kuro pouts, perhaps sensing my displeasure. “Asha shouldn’t have to participate! She’s—“

“She will participate,” Uma interrupts with a low growl, raising his wings slightly. “As long as Asha is a member of this flock, she will abide by its traditions.”

Khosa adds in a stern voice, “We will not compromise on this, Daughter-Of-Mecali.”

Kuro snorts in response. Her talons curl, scraping claws against hard stones. She bristles and stares at her Grandmother longingly, silently pleading for her to intervene. But instead of a reprieve, Meldi narrows her eyes and remains quiet. Clearly, her request has been denied.

Kuro growls and flails her head in frustration. She’s awfully concerned about me participating in this event, but why? While I appreciate her fighting so hard for me, this is a little too much. I brush my wing against hers, and she immediately seizes up. Her head whips around to face me, thoroughly agitated.

“It’s fine,” I say quietly. “I’ll attend Couple’s Night willingly.”

Kuro’s frown deepens, but her feathers soon relax. She folds her wings and bumps her head against my neck in solidarity.

Going on a blind date with some random drakon is such a terrible idea, but if it’s a stepping stone on my journey to return home, then so be it. I promised myself and the Elders I would do whatever was asked of me in the flock, and I’m not going to back down on that promise now just because I don’t like it.

After a few remarks from Khosa and Uma, our impromptu meeting concludes. As the elders scale the side of the gathering stone to depart, Meldi remains unmoving in the position she held for most of the meeting. With narrowed eyes, she gazes at Kuro, sitting motionless beside me in the same vacant act. After a time, Meldi rises and turns to leave the stone without so much of a tip of her wings.

“Let’s go,” Kuro growls, keeping her eyes fixated on Meldi’s back before tearing her gaze away. She turns to leave, and I follow in tow.

As we depart down the opposite side of the rock, my gaze is drawn to the ground where Uma and Ashene are approaching a tall entrance on the back wall of the aerie. A tawny drakon with squared shoulders nods in passing as the ragged old Dragons step into the dimly lit passage. Within seconds they’re shrouded in darkness and disappear.

The elder’s den… it seems like ages ago when I last saw it during my initial visit to the aerie. Supposedly, Keuvra lives in the mountain somewhere beyond those walls. Why does he have to be summoned by some mystic ritual? Can’t he just walk out here and address the flock directly? My life would be so much easier if I could only ask him a few questions.

“Hey, Kuro,” I speak up as we land beside each other on the ground.

Kuro folds her wings and asks, “What is it, Asha?”

“That entrance over there,” I say, flicking my ears towards the back wall where the drakon guard is perched. “That’s where Keuvra lives, right?”

Kuro gazes forward, then looks at me with pronounced suspicion. “Yes…”

“So, why can’t we go back and talk to him? I mean, if I’m only—“

“Asha,” Kuro cuts me off. “You must never enter the elder’s den. It is strictly forbidden.”

“Well, why?” I persist. “Is there some horrifying secret about Keuvr—“

“Asha,” Kuro lowers her voice, and her eyes narrow. “Don’t joke about it.”

I blink in visceral confusion. ‘Don’t joke about it?’ Am I talking to the real Kuro? It’s not like her to be this concerned about anything.

She continues, “I’m serious, Asha. It would be…” her voice dissipates, and she turns away. “It would be very bad if you entered the elder’s den. Promise me you’ll never go there.”

Okay, something is definitely wrong with her. “Kuro, what could be such a—“

“Asha!” she snaps.

“A-Alright, alright!” I stammer, the vehemence of her voice rearing my head backward. “I promise. I won’t go in there, no matter what.”

Kuro exhales and rubs her head against mine. “Thank you.”

Still confused, I give her a faint rub in return. What’s so special about the elder’s den? Kuro is always so lackadaisical about the flock’s rule. I’ve never seen her this nervous about following them. Doesn’t she understand how important this is to me? I lost everything when I became a Lithan, and I still don’t even know why it happened. The answers are waiting for me beyond those walls!

Honestly, she’s beginning to sound like Mom.

And because of that, the rebellious little girl inside me feels more compelled than ever to find some way to sneak inside the elder’s den. But the adult inside me knows there has to be a reason for Kuro’s anxiousness. I just haven’t discovered it yet. Despite our misunderstandings, she always had my best interests in mind. So, I’ll force myself to take her word. I won’t sneak into the elder’s den.

For now.