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trout and found the flavor smoky and salty. It was a fine meal, fueling his spirit and his body, giving him the strength to fly further. Yet he didn’t move from the tree branch for many hours. Instead he looked back in the direction of the Nest, watching the sky, contemplating the restorative power of unexpected kindness.

Chapter Three:
    Mad in the Timeless Dark

    The Burning Grounds lay in the shadow of Shandrazel’s palace. Winged dragons honored their dead by cremation, releasing the spiritual flames that remained trapped within the body. In the aftermath of the battle of the Free City, the pyres of the Burning Grounds had burned every night from dusk to dawn. Tonight, Vendevorex, the sky-dragon who had served as Albekizan’s wizard for fifteen years, would be placed upon the flames.
    A choir of sky-dragons sang, their eerily high voices echoing the ephemeral nature of flame. Jandra stood stoically at the base of the pedestal of logs on which the wizard would be burned. A human female sixteen years of age, Jandra had been raised by Vendevorex almost as a daughter. He had trained her in his arts. She alone knew the secrets of his powers, although there were many more secrets he had carried with him into death.
    Beside her stood Pet, a human male nearly ten years older. Jandra didn’t welcome his company. Though Pet was hailed by other humans as the leader of the rebellion in the Free City, Jandra knew that the true Pet was a shallow opportunist. Even now, standing next to her, he was living a lie. Everyone believed Pet to be the legendary dragon-slayer Bitterwood. Pet looked the part of a hero: tall, broad-shouldered, square-jawed, with long golden locks and pale blue eyes. He’d been trained in the theatrical arts, and could deliver inspirational speeches at a moment's notice, summoning grand words from among the countless plays and poems he’d memorized. But behind those lovely words, Pet was, she knew, a coward and a scoundrel.
    Pet placed an arm around her shoulders and pulled her near as a band of earth-dragons carried the coffin that held Vendevorex’s remains to the Burning Grounds. It was a gesture of tenderness that surprised her. She would have preferred to watch the cremation alone, but, as he gently rubbed her shoulder with his strong hand, she found herself welcoming the consoling touch. Perhaps he was capable of compassion and empathy after all.
    “I can only imagine the grief you feel,” he whispered.
    “I feel numb, mostly,” she whispered back. “Everything in my life turned upside-down so fast.”
    “I know,” he said. “Hopefully things will turn again, for the better. Shandrazel genuinely wants to improve the lives of humans. You and I are well positioned to be granted considerable power in his new world order.”
    Jandra stiffened. “I’d rather not be discussing politics now,” she said.
    “I understand. Sorry.” He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
    The earth-dragons walked up the wooden ramp toward the top of the piled logs.
    “I don’t want power,” she said. “I just want Vendevorex back. I miss him. I wish I hadn’t been so mean to him in the weeks before his death.”
    “I don’t think you were mean,” said Pet. “Just confused. He gave you good reason to be angry.”
    “I know,” she said. “But I’ve barely slept since he’s been gone. I just keep running the words I should have said over and over in my head. I keep imagining the things he still had left to tell me.”
    The earth-dragons lowered the coffin onto the pine logs. The new high biologian, Androkom, climbed onto the platform to deliver his eulogy. Androkom was a young sky-dragon, still in his twenties, the youngest dragon ever to hold the post of high biologian. He looked weary. Since the fall of the Free City, multiple funerals had been held each night, and all required his presence.
    Pet took Jandra’s hand as the earth-dragons pried open the lid of the coffin. Many days had passed since