Misola moved close to him—not touching, but close enough for him to notice. She smiled. No, he thought, not everything. He smiled back, and together they made their way down the huge neck, using the large spine spikes to keep their balance. Syldrae waited until they were both between her shoulder blades before she moved to the cavern entrance where Gresset waited.

The green’s mouth opened slowly. “For the bulbs you put in your cave…”

Syldrae paused. “Yes?”

“I would be honored to use my fire to light them.”

Piscalo felt Syldrae’s body warm underneath him, but to Gresset she simply arched her neck. “What an…unexpected offer. It shall be some time before the preparations are completed to my liking.”

“Then I shall wait,” Gresset said, his eyes lingering on her a moment and then shifting to Piscalo. “Goodbye, boy.”

Piscalo knew that he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop himself from blurting, “Were you going to burn me this year, my lord?”

The ridges of Gresset’s brows creased together. “No,” he said, and Piscalo’s shoulders slumped. “I was going to let either Zalc or Jikkol when they were old enough. You would have made a good clutch leader to either. I hope you will remain a friend to both since they are sons of gray.”

Piscalo’s feelings of rejection vanished like smoke. He beamed at the praise and a request he was more than happy to fulfill. “I will, my lord!” he said.

“I am pleased to hear it,” Gresset said, his teeth showing in a small smile.

Piscalo’s surroundings suddenly lurched as Syldrae leapt off of the ledge, forcing him to cling tightly to the spine spike that he and Misola had their arms and legs wrapped around. Piscalo had never ridden a dragon before, and if Syldrae’s body and wings hadn’t been so big, preventing him from seeing the ground below, he was sure he would have been scared or even sick. As it was, it felt similar to when he had looked out at The Crown from the height of the green spire, except now his view to the sides and up was much less restricted and the air blew into him much more fiercely.

They hadn’t been aloft long when Misola elbowed him in the side. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were scheming to get them back together!” she said, her words nearly ripped away by the wind. “How long have you been planning it?”

With everything that had just happened, Piscalo didn’t have the energy to try and feign any credit. “I only wanted to get burned,” he said.

Her eyes bugged. “You just put an end to one of the greatest dragon feuds in history accidentally?”

Piscalo shrugged.

She laughed. “You are such an idiot.”

“It worked didn’t it?” he said defensively.

She laughed again. “It did. Just like you planned, I’m sure.”

“Not quite…” he admitted, dropping his eyes to the gray scales beneath him. If I had just waited, he thought to himself.

“What about Zalc and Jikkol?” Misola asked.

He didn’t bother looking up. “What about them?”

“They were obviously hiding nearby. Do you think they’ll tell anyone the truth?”

“Maybe,” Piscalo said as he thought about it, “but not Gresset. Then they’d have to explain that they were there while he was getting fooled and could have stopped it. He’d be furious. No, they’ll whisper it around, but no one will believe.” Piscalo sighed, shaking his head. “Clutch, I don’t believe it.”

“Why are you so glum all of the sudden?” Misola said. “You were grinning ear to ear just a moment ago.”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” he said, glancing up at her.

“You wanted to get burned, didn’t you?”

Piscalo gave her a look. “Obviously.”

“Now you will. You heard her.”

“She wasn’t serious.”

“Of course she was. Besides she needs to now, to make the story real.”

“But I said I was burned at the ceremony. Gresset could ask anyone—”

“But he won’t. He has no reason to.”

Piscalo hesitated. “But gray?”

She elbowed him a second time. “A scar is a scar. You are what fills it.”

He was silent for another moment. “But gray?”

“Quiet back there!” Syldrae roared. “Or I’ll drop you here instead of cooking you in my cave!”

Piscalo’s jaw snapped shut, but Misola only giggled. “Don’t worry. She’s just thinking of everything she needs to do to get ready for Gresset to visit.”

“You think she’ll really invite him?” Piscalo said with a frown, keeping his voice low despite Misola’s apparent lack of concern.

She matched his frown and then some. “Definitely. You think he won’t accept?”

Piscalo had never known Gresset to say a kind thing about Syldrae before today, but he had also never known his brood lord to lie. “Their feud might be over,” he said, the full realization hitting him.

She laughed. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“Do you think this means that the greens and grays will actually unite?”

“Whether the whole broods do or not, some of them certainly should.” She looked at him as she said it, her gaze unblinking.

This time, he kissed her, the wind making her hair whip against his face, but Piscalo didn’t mind. In fact, he liked feeling the soft tickling against the blush in his cheeks.

The kiss was warm like always, and for once, it wasn’t over too quickly.