Free Desert Fire (Legend and Lore Book 3) by TR Rook

voice demanding an answer.
    Khatlah pulled back a little so that he could turn his head to watch his father, but he stayed very close to Brand and his arms did not unwind completely from around his neck.  
    “If you have noticed his strange eyes, they are the eyes of the wolf-creature that lives in the woods,” Kamoor told him. “He is able to shift his form into that of the wolf-creature, and as such his senses are much better than ours. He is also able to create and manipulate fire with his mind, and when he does that, his eyes change to the colour of flames.”  
    The king’s eyes cut from Kamoor to Brand. “You really can create flames? Show me.”  
    Brand did not even think about disobeying the order. The king had just allowed him to stay, and as such he deserved to know what Brand was. Brand lifted his hand and flipped it over, curling his fingers up as he called forth a small ball of flame. It hovered above his palm, and the flames played around Brand’s fingers, hot to the touch to anyone but him.  
    “That is remarkable.” The king leaned back, one hand going to his chin as he regarded Brand.  
    “Father...” Khatlah’s voice was full of warning. “Whatever it is you’re planning right now, this is not the time or the day for it.”  
    The king sobered at the reminder. “You are right, my son. Another day, then.” He nodded to each of them in turn. “You are all dismissed. Except Khatlah.”  
    “I’ll be out soon,” Khatlah whispered to Brand. “I’ll come find you.”  
    Brand turned and exited the audience chamber alongside Kamoor and Sarab.  
    “Care to join us on the roof?” Kamoor glanced at him briefly.  
    Brand only nodded, following the two men silently.  
    Without Khatlah pressed up against him his mind was once again thinking clearly—and it was doubting, but he was going to take things as they came, at least until his wound had healed.  
    They emerged on the roof to the most beautiful view Brand had ever seen. The sun was setting in the horizon, leaving the land in an orange glow.  
    He watched Kamoor and Sarab approach their dragons, greeting them with a clap to their necks. Besides the injured youngling that lay curled up across the roof, those two were currently the only dragons there.  
    “Where is Sakoptari’s dragon?” Brand asked the question hesitantly, but he was curious about what happened to a dragon when their rider died.  
    “Her rider is dead. She has no ties here anymore. She’s gone.” Sarab was the one to answer, and he sounded genuinely sad about it. “It is quite sad, because she was a fine dragon.”  
    “Does a dragon only have one rider in a lifetime?” Brand questioned quietly.  
    “Some choose a second rider. It depends on how the first rider dies and how well the dragon can handle that death. Not being able to be ridden by your rider ever again... it is hard on the dragons. Just like it is hard on us to lose a loved one.”  
    Brand nodded that he’d heard, not knowing what to reply because it sounded like Sarab knew what it was like to lose a loved one. When he looked over at Kamoor Brand saw that Kamoor was staring at Sarab in surprise.  
    Kamoor had been quiet through it all, not saying a single word, and Brand felt his gut squeeze. Kamoor had lost one loved one, and he had no chance to reclaim the other one because Brand was stealing him away.  
    Turning away from them, Brand went over to the injured youngling. It lay quietly as he sat down next to it, but it was awake. One big, yellow eye looked at him. Brand placed one hand on the dragon’s hind leg, splaying his finger over the hard, white scales.  
    “She’ll be colouring soon,” Kamoor spoke up from above him.  
    Brand looked up at him, surprised Kamoor had even followed him. “Colouring?”  
    “Younglings are always white,” Kamoor explained, crouching down to stroke the dragon over the muzzle. “They do not colour until they reach the first stage of