My stomach turned over. I wanted to be sick.

Had Paorah explained nothing to her? Had she believed these dragons—living dragons—would be as docile as the skeleton in her throne room?

“They did calm after that, but they crawled into a heap and refused to move.”

Ilina reached for me, and I took her hand. On our shoulders, LaLa and Crystal clucked and worried, but they didn’t try to lift off. Maybe they’d understood the part about chains.

“I’ll—” I shook my head. “I’ll try to comfort them a little.” I looked at Ilina. “Perhaps you should speak with the keepers.”

Faint hope filled her eyes as she passed Crystal’s leash to me. “Good idea. Hristo?”

“I’ll stay here,” he said. “Where I can see both of you.”

Ilina walked toward the building, both hands pressed against her stomach. She hesitated in front of the opening door and then rushed to meet her father, who appeared in the doorway. I watched for a moment, allowing myself a breath of relief and happiness for her.

Then I turned toward the pile of dragons.

The rise and fall of breathing was almost imperceptible; I could feel it through our connection more than I could see it. Scales ground against scales, horrible and painful in the back of my head; LaLa whined and shifted from side to side.

I looked at the empress. “It isn’t normal for big dragons to form piles like this. It isn’t normal for them to want to be anywhere near one another. Dragons this size are lone predators, and territorial. With the exception of visiting mates, they rarely meet. That’s why sanctuaries are so big—to allow them to avoid seeing another dragon for decans at a time.”

“Then why . . .” The empress didn’t finish her question.

She already knew the answer.

I shifted both leashes into one hand as Crystal perched on my arm, while LaLa lorded over her from my shoulder. “You should wait here,” I told the empress.

A surprised frown crossed her face, but it vanished quickly. She wanted an explanation, but I wasn’t going to offer one. Hristo could, if he wanted.

I headed toward the dragons; they needed my care more than anyone else here.

My boots crushed soft grass, then scorched soil. LaLa clucked by my ear, and when I followed her gaze, I saw tracks of bent grass where the chains had been dragged away. Sickness writhed in my stomach.

Finally, I reached the nearest dragon: a Drakontos mimikus, colored blue like the softest of skies. I walked around the mound, finding two ignituses, a maior, a maximus, and a rex.

Only six.

Then I found the seventh, completely covered by the others: Drakontos titanus. Like they’d come to him—the biggest of all—for protection.

My heart broke to see their scales dulled, missing in some places where the shackles had rubbed those first days, before the dragons had stopped moving. Their talons were yellowed and cracked, and—when I held my palm toward the closest dragon—their bodies felt cool.