Dragon Bonds (Return of the Darkening Series Book 3) by Ava Richardson Page B

room had been his retreat and domain. “They set fire to it?” Varla’s voice held a tremor.
    Glancing at the blackened stone of the keep, I said, “I think that they tried to set fire to the whole Academy—only most of it is made of stone. If the map room is gone, what’s left?”
    “There might be some books left.” Varla’s voice sounded stiff. The Academy had been her home for far longer than it had been mine. She was technically only a couple of years ahead of me, but she had lost her first flying partner and been forced to wait and study, until her dragon accepted Merik. It had been a rare thing for a dragon to take a rider in place of a first choice.
    “Varla?” I hesitated, wondering if I had been wrong about her before. Maybe she wasn’t as strong as I thought she was.
    “It’s okay.” I heard the leather of her jerkin creak as she straightened. “It’s just—it’s just that I always thought…you know our room is gone.”
    I nudged her shoulder “It was too small for us.”
    She gave a hard sniff. “It was here that—that I finally had friends.”
    “Oh, for…” I slapped an arm around her shoulder. “You still have that. Now—where do we search? Seb wants anything we can find on the Dragon Stones.”
    Pulling away, she said, “I think we should split up. I’ll take the keep. The commander might have kept some books in his rooms, or up in storage.”
    “I’ll check the staff’s old quarters. Maybe one of them had something that could help us out.”
    “Done. Meet back here as soon as we’re done?” Varla said. To my surprise, I found myself agreeing with her as if she was the one giving orders now.
    Let her feel strong. The First Dragon knows that we all need that right now!
    She jumped easily over the shattered wooden beams and scattered stones and disappeared inside the keep.
    I turned in the opposite direction, heading around the side of the main keep, heading for the buildings at the back. I didn’t want to tell Varla what I’d really come here for—somewhere in this rubble lay the body of the old king and perhaps that of Instructor Mordecai. They needed to be found—they deserved to be found.
    I’d set fire to them, I had decided, surprised at my own clarity of thought about what I needed to do. They at least needed someone to say a few words over them.
    As I stepped over the soot-blackened door that led into the kitchen—and from there to quarters—my boots crunched on broken glass and dirt tramped or blown in from the training yard. A sense of terrible finality settled into my stomach, as if this really was the end of days. This might be the last time I ever set foot in the Academy.
    But we do what we have to do for those we love . I stepped further into the darkness.
    My steps echoed down the corridors. I didn’t remember the Academy being this foreboding, but I had never been far into the kitchen or the instructor’s quarters. We’d had cleaners and servants to deal with this. Smoke choked the air and smashed pottery littered the floor. A number of the rooms that could be easily broken into had been and the contents—from clothes to tapestries to food—had been either dragged out and trampled on or taken. It looked as though the Wildmen had sought to set numerous fires in the rooms but the ancient stone had ultimately defeated them. Some of the rooms were completely blackened, but the fires hadn’t spread.
    In one room, a couple of old, horned dragon helmets sat on the floor, dented and sad looking.
    No bodies.
    I let out a breath and crossed to the heavy iron-barred door that led to more instructors’ quarters. The door was heavy and difficult to open, and as soon as I did, the foul smell of sulfur had me choking. Like acrid, rotten eggs, it made my eyes run. Putting a scarf over my face, I headed down the hall.
    Feeling my way, for I had hardly any light, I walked down the hallway. A few fires gave me enough light not to trip over anything. I stopped and