“That’s . . .” I shuddered. “That’s horrible.”

“That’s Anahera,” she said. “At least the leadership.” Uncomfortable quiet dropped through the room, and then she said, “I told you my father escaped Anahera. And that I was told never to come here.”

“Yes.” I was dying to know what had happened, but I didn’t want to press.

“People usually have two thoughts when it comes to Anahera: it’s either an island of manipulative schemers, or an island of crafters. The truth is that it’s both.” Ilina took a steadying breath. “My father grew up here, in Flamecrest, working with dragons. He showed a rare talent, and eventually, Minister Paorah—now High Magistrate Paorah—took notice.”

Zara scowled. “But doesn’t your father have a Daminan name?”

Hristo glanced at her, one eyebrow raised. “I have a Daminan name.”

My sister’s face darkened. “I know that.”

Ilina kept her tone even. “My father changed his name when he left Anahera, but you’re making me skip ahead.”

Zara hunched her shoulders. “Sorry.”

“Paorah was obsessed with dragons. He wanted the best sanctuary in the Fallen Isles, and he was incredibly selective in who he decided to elevate. It was a huge honor that he chose my father.” She looked down, scratching at Crystal’s chin. “Father went to three of the best universities on Anahera in order to study, and when he came back to Flamecrest, he was put in charge of a breeding program that focused on Drakontos sols.”

I’d never seen a Drakontos sol in real life, not even during my visits to various Anaheran sanctuaries. They were desert dragons, able to absorb sunlight and convert it to fire energy. But because they didn’t need to eat as often in order to maintain their fire, occasionally they starved to death.

Like all dragons, they were at risk for extinction, and they were only found in the Anaheran deserts, so a breeding program made sense.

“Unfortunately, Paorah was more focused on the numbers than he was on the dragons’ health. He encouraged inbreeding, which might have temporarily increased the number of sols in the sanctuary, but my father was concerned about the long-term effects.” She curled her lip. “Plus, dragons don’t usually mate just because a human tells them to. They have standards.”

“So your father said no?” I asked.

“He said no.” Ilina straightened her spine. “They threatened him, and his family, but he was firm. He thought the work they wanted was unethical, so he fled to Damina. He walked all the way down to Crescent Prominence, and when he got there, he offered his services to the Luminary Department of Drakontos Examination in exchange for asylum.”

“That was brave,” I said.

She nodded. “They helped him change his name so it would be more difficult for regular people to find him. Of course, Paorah became the high magistrate a few years after Father fled, and it wouldn’t have taken much effort to find Father, but the Luminary Council was protecting him. I suppose when the dragons in the ruins started getting sick, the council didn’t mind letting Anahera take him—and my mother—again, in order to treat them. And if I’d been there . . .”