Dammit! Reynold pressed his chest flat against the stone floor.
Another fire screamed past over his head.
It did not touch him but he felt the heat roll across the back of his neck and he quickly brought down his chin.
*Do not move. Do not breathe too loud.*
He tried to calm himself but another blast of fire was directed towards him. This one was bit closer. It was close enough that it almost touch the collar of his jacket.
"Damn it!" Reynold hissed through his teeth.
He turned his head sideways, with his cheek now grinding against the floor, and he tried to think.
He needed to think of any draconic language! Every rider at the academy learned at least the basics. *Vreth,* meaning peace. *Sulkan,* meaning still. *Orvael,* meaning I mean no harm.
But Reynold was not able to come up with any words.
Fu*k!
Even the few words that he has half-memorised before vanished from his head like a smoke.
