The dragon had green and gold scales, which reflected in the rising sun as he skimmed over the rooftops, blowing aside chimney smoke with his misty breath. He had no wings, but his six taloned feet stepped on the air as easily as if it was solid ground. He landed on the cobblestones in front of my family's house on Coghill Street. Even hunched over, his yellow eyes were level with the second-story window.

Now, dragons aren't real, so we were pretty terrified. We wondered if the police would show up, and if their muskets would do anything to dragon scales anyway.

But he wasn't here to eat us. He was here to talk. His voice came from the big jewel in his forehead, echoing inside our heads.

"I am here for Roxana Cowen," he said. I hid behind the kitchen table, my face turning pale as he said my name.

My mother stood in the doorway, wielding a rolling pin. "We ain't got a Roxana here," she spat.

The dragon regarded her with amusement. "You misunderstand," he said. "I am here to collect her. She is invited to participate in a competition. The prize is immortality."

I thought of my father, a stonemason, who died of the plague before he could see the completion of the beautiful bridge he helped design. In the River Ward, they say we die with a flicker and a whisper because there isn't enough wood to kindle a blaze of glory. The truth is we die young because there isn't enough food to fill our bellies.

I stood up. "I'm Roxana," I said, "and I accept."

My mother looked at me, her jaw hanging down. "Roxana, no," she said. "You can't go with this dragon."

But I was already packing up my things and running out to meet him. I watched the city grow smaller beneath me as the dragon galloped through the sky, taking me to the strange competition he had promised.

Taking me to the possibility of changing the world.

If there's one thing to know about dragon rides, it's that they are bumpy. You'd assume it wouldn't be, given the lack of cobbles, but no. I was being buffeted and bumped around like a sack of potatoes, wind in my face so fast and hard I could barely choke a word out against the current.

"So, uh, Dragon. What is this game?"

"It is by decree of the king."

My heart stuttered. "King Llwyenn?" I asked. King Llewyenn was cruel, uncaring. There is nothing he would do less than offer immortality to a peasant girl from the River Ward. Unless it was a trap.

"No," the dragon replied. "King of Dragons. Sir Fireblaze the Third. He takes pity on this kingdom, on how its people are treated. He offers the gift of immortality on condition that you win the Kindling."

"And...why me?"

"The Kindling is a tournament traditionally open to the oldest daughters of the dragon kingdom. This year, we start with including the River Ward."
"I'm competing with other dragons?"

The dragon swooped down, and I clung to his neck as he landed on a large wooden platform. He bowed to let me off.

"Yes, Roxana."

I looked around, seeing cliffs and waves on one side and a thick forest on the other. A stone staircase led into the trees, carved with intricate scaled patterns. My father would have loved those carvings. “Where exactly are we?” I asked the dragon.

“Starpoint Island,” he answered. “The home of the Kindling.” Before I could ask any more questions, three figures swept down the stairs: two boys and a girl around my own age, wearing bright and shimmering clothes in red and black.

The one in front, the girl, sized me up. Her eyes looked strange—no white, just orange irises surrounding a vertical black pupil that glinted with starry specks. “What’s your name?” she asked.

“Roxana Cowen,” I said. She looked at me, puzzled.

“You mean you’ve only got one name?”

“How many do you have?” I asked somewhat defensively.

“One for those who hatched with me, one for friends, one for enemies, a common name, and a true name. Not so many as other dragons.” She said it so dismissively. My jaw dropped. “You may call me by my common name, which is Amberfang.”

“You’re a dragon?” I said. In hindsight, it should have been obvious.

Amberfang nodded. “You must be the girl chosen from the human kingdom. Yes, of course I’m a dragon, as are my brothers.” The boys waved at me, and now I saw that their eyes were the same fiery orange. “I’m one of eleven dragon daughters here to compete in the Tournament of Kindling.”

Now I understood. “You’re here to trash-talk me because I’m a competitor.” I’d heard it all before from the boys in the dock yards. I wasn’t especially scared.

Amberfang smiled. Her brothers shot a glance at each other. The dragon who had carried me here snorted in amusement.

“Verbal insults are for the weak-minded,” she said. “A true winner proves her prowess in the contest itself—and make no mistake, I will win.”