Given Page 10

  Yenni bit the inside of her lip as she collected her things. Perhaps she could ask Zui Duval for her help with Professor Rosé’s assignment. Or perhaps Zui’s husband Harth? But where to find them?

  Then again, there was always Weysh.

  I really shouldn’t encourage him.

  Even if she’d wanted it, there could never be anything between them. At the end of the year she would go back to the Northern Sha Islands, heal her father, and more than likely begin preparations to marry Prince Natahi ka Gunzu.

  But how likely was it that she would bump into Zui or Harth Duval within the week? Weysh, on the other hand, she knew exactly where to find. And she had much studying to do to arm herself for her next encounter with Professor Mainard. It would be wise to get Professor Rosé’s assignment out of the way.

  With a sigh, Yenni hitched her back-satchel up on her shoulders and headed for the library.

  The dragon leaned against one of the carved white pillars along the library’s entrance, arms crossed, with a satisfied smile on his face. Despite the chill in the air his shirt was mostly open, his long braid trailing down the muscles of his chest.

  “Hello, lovely,” he said as she approached. “Our uniform suits you, but then I suppose you’d look alluring in just about anything, en?”

  “I didn’t come here to listen to your nonsensical ramblings,” said Yenni.

  He cocked his head to the side. “Oh? Then why did you come?”

  “You said you would help me study.”

  Weysh nodded. “That I did.”

  “I require your help with an assignment.”

  She explained Professor Rosé’s homework assignment to him, then pointed to the wide grass lawn before the library. “Go and change over there,” she said.

  Instead the dragon sauntered up to her until he was about an inch away and bent over. He looked into her eyes, smiling slightly. Yenni glared back at him, refusing to be intimidated.

  “You know,” he said slowly, “it’s customary in Cresh to say please when asking a favor of someone.”

  “I do not have time for this,” she ground out, but he simply stood smiling at her, waiting. “Please,” she finally said through her teeth.

  “Sorry? I didn’t—”

  “Please help me with my assignment,” she said, cutting him off.

  He took a long stride back and bowed to her, sweeping one hand to the side. “Anything for you, my heart.”

  He jogged to the lawn and changed.

  At least now he can no longer talk, Yenni thought as she made her way down the steps to meet him. And she wouldn’t have to worry about any unwelcome advances. According to Professor Rosé, dragonkind felt no romantic feelings toward human beings while in their beast form. As she reached him, the dragon stuck out a clawed arm and bent over it in an elegant bow, a low clicking noise coming from his throat. Yenni couldn’t help but smile. He truly was a magnificent creature to behold.

  “Right,” she said, hands on her hips as she stared up at him. How exactly was she supposed to go about observing the dragon personality? She tried to make a circle around him, but he followed her, turning so he was always facing her.

  “Let me get behind you, Dragon,” she said, but he made a low soft moan and shook his head.

  “Why not?” said Yenni. “Are you afraid you’ll sit on me?”

  He huffed and stood up straight, and Yenni had the distinct impression she’d offended him. As if I’d sit on my own Given, his posture seemed to say. He turned his head and looked down at her from one huge, jewel-like eye, and the expression so reminded her of her brother Dayo it made her heart ache.

  “My apologies,” she said to him. “I suppose it is only good manners to keep someone in front of you when you’re so big, isn’t it?”

  He bowed his head slowly, a nod.

  “I think I do see the difference in personality, Dragon,” said Yenni. “As a beast you seem somewhat more regal.”

  He bent down and surged forward, so that his big head touched her neck and shoulder. The action was so similar to how her field sphinx, Ofa, would nuzzle her in affection that before she knew it she was stroking his scaly face, and she planted a light kiss on his hot, dry nose.

  He shuddered, spread his wings, and let out a sharp, happy cry. Yenni laughed. Dragon turned slowly, keeping an eye on her, and sank low, presenting his tail. He wanted her to mount him.

  “No, Dragon.”

  He thumped his tail on the ground impatiently, looked back at her, and snorted.

  “I said no.”

  He stretched his neck up tall and let out one sharp, indignant click. You don’t trust me?

  “The last time we went flying was because you snatched me up and whisked me away to a cave.”

  He sank low to the ground, head bent at an angle to watch her, and made a low, mournful noise.

  “Yes, I’m sure you are sorry,” said Yenni. “Especially as I have no intention of flying with you.” No matter how exhilarating it had been. No matter that once she was home she would never get the chance to fly like that again.

  He made that low gurgling noise once more, and though he was a beast, a very human sadness was plain in his eyes. “Oh Mothers and Fathers,” Yenni sighed. She touched her stomach: not a hint of reaction from the Masters’ protection rune. Still, she didn’t quite trust him.

  “No,” she said with finality.

  Dragon stood and bobbed his head sadly, then swung it to the side as if to say, This way. He turned and started away.

  “What is this, Dragon?” said Yenni jogging to keep up with his great, stalking strides. He led her around the tall gray columns of the library to a wide dirt path dappled by the evening shadows of the trees. “Where are you taking—oh!” They emerged and Yenni found herself facing an expanse of white among a field of wildflowers. Dragon sank back on his haunches and waited, expectant.

  “You wanted to show me this place?” she asked him. He nodded, one slow bow of his great head. Then he motioned to the sea of white ahead and grunted as if to say, Well, go on, then.

  Yenni moved forward to inspect the strange scene before her, and gasped softly as realization dawned. It was a pond covered in gigantic white water flowers, each one as big as her middle. Yenni stopped at the pond’s edge and stared, amazed, while the dragon slunk up next to her and drank, disturbing the water flowers and sending them spinning away.

  “Dragon, it’s beautiful!”

  He turned and bowed to her again, and Yenni clenched her fist behind her to keep from stroking his face.

  He sank to a sitting position, watching her. Yenni sat cross-legged beside him, and sighed as a light breeze caressed her face and ruffled the grass around her. The dragon responded with a low, contented rumble and flattened his head to the ground next to her, facing the pond. A few other students sat scattered on the grass around the pond, many of them couples.

  “There is much and more to learn about Cresh,” said Yenni. They sat in comfortable silence for a while. Birds twittered as the evening sun painted the sky in shades of amber, and Dragon’s slow breathing soothed her, made her eyes heavy. It was the most peace she’d had since coming to Cresh. A part of her wanted to lean against him, as she would have with her field sphinx, but that would not have been wise. He was not Ofa, and he was not some gentle beast. He was a man. A brash, rude, presumptuous man. And yet . . .

  “You’re less beastly as a beast,” Yenni said at last. He made a short huffing noise she interpreted as a laugh. If Yenni was honest with herself, Dragon’s presence was more than tolerable; it was enjoyable. After the day she’d had it was nice to sit and recuperate with someone who expected nothing of her. Amazingly, in his beast form Weysh was more civilized, when he wasn’t licking her or grabbing her up off the ground, of course. She glanced sidelong at him. It seemed she would have quite a lot to write for her r
eport.

  And then that would be that. This sort of idling together was not something she, or he, should get used to. She was there to learn Creshen magic, please the Sha, and save her n’baba, not become some dragon’s plaything. And with Creshen magic being so much more difficult than she anticipated—

  Yenni sat up straight, gasping softly. Her magic tutoring! She was meant to be meeting with Carmenna that very moment! She sprang to her feet, and Dragon lifted his head, watching her curiously. Mothers and Fathers but he was a distraction. She’d all but forgotten about her pact with the other woman. Yenni composed herself and stood tall.

  “Dragon, there is something we must discuss. I cannot be your Given, but there is a woman named Carmenna who is quite fond of you. She would make a more suitable match. You should turn your attentions to her.”

  Dragon slowly rose to his feet, and in the span of a blink he changed back to the man, Weysh. He gave her a look full of skepticism.

  “En?”

  “She is my tutor, and I told her I would steer your attention to her in exchange for her help.”

  “What?” said Weysh, and it came out laced with incredulous laughter. “Surely you’re joking—Carmenna is your tutor?”

  “Yes, and your efforts are best spent on her, not me.”

  “Sweet,” Weysh said patiently, “I’m not some breeding stud you can cajole into plowing a mare. Carmenna is not my match.” He held her eyes with his own. “You are.”

  Yenni paused at that, at the strange anxiousness his frank gaze stirred in her. No man had ever dared look at her like that before, his thoughts so plain on his face. It made her angry, but there was something else too. A nervous adrenaline, like when on a hunt.

  “Well, I do not want you.”

  He threw up his hands in frustration. “Then what on Byen’s hallowed soil do you want, if a thrice-damned dragon isn’t good enough for you, en? What must I do to prove my sincerity to you?”

  “What I want is to study the magic of Cresh, only.” She pulled on her back-satchel. “I must go.” Carmenna was waiting.

  “Yenni Ajani!” he called after her, but it seemed he was capable of good sense after all, as he wisely did not follow.

  10

  Lights—what Yenni now knew were Queyor’s Magic Lanterns—hung suspended in bowls of glass on poles lining the walkways. She hurried along until she was back at student services. Carmenna waited on one of the leather sofas against the walls, her chin in her hands and her dark hair tumbling like a horse’s mane over one shoulder.

  “There you are!” she said as she caught sight of Yenni. She stood and they touched palms, Yenni once again holding back a grimace at the awkward intimacy of the gesture.

  “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” she said. “There is much I want to discuss with you today—” Yenni cut off as her stomach let out a loud, embarrassing grumble.

  Carmenna raised an eyebrow. “I’m starving too. Why don’t we take this conversation to the dining hall?”

  And so they made the short trip there. The dining hall was a long, corridor-like building made of stone pillars that curved up to arches high overhead, and large windows let in the night sky while more magic lanterns floated above them like stars. Yenni and Carmenna sat across from each other, surrounded by laughter and chatter and clicking utensils. The rich and meaty smell of Yenni’s Creshen stew made her mouth water, and it was an effort to wait as the crusty bread sopped up the broth, softening it. She took a bite and held back a moan. It could simply be that she was hungrier than a plague of locusts, but the savory stew and crunchy bread were like a rare and luxurious delicacy.

  Carmenna spoke around a mouthful of her own stew.

  “Mmm. Now then, what are you struggling with? What should we focus on?”

  “Magic,” said Yenni.

  “Could you perhaps be a bit more”—Carmenna waved her bread for emphasis—“specific?”

  “Creshen magic.”

  Carmenna watched her helplessly. “Are you having trouble with specific incantations? Anchoring? Battle magic? Healing magic? Domestic spells—”

  “Ah! Healing magic! I want to know about Creshen healing magic,” Yenni said excitedly.

  Carmenna swallowed another spoonful of stew. “Well that’s lucky. I’m in studies to become a general physiology mage myself.”

  Lucky indeed! Praises to Mother Ib and Father Ji, thought Yenni, even though by tradition, they weren’t supposed to intervene.

  “What is it about healing magic that has you so intrigued?” asked Carmenna.

  Yenni hesitated—should she tell? This woman may be able to help her, and wasn’t that why Yenni had come? She bit her lip and glanced at the rune on her left palm. “My father is very sick,” she said softly.

  “I’m so sorry,” said Carmenna, and there was real sympathy in her eyes.

  “None of the healers back home have been able to cure his illness, only slow it, but he is getting worse.”

  “What are his symptoms?”

  Yenni found herself holding back tears as she explained the way her father’s body refused to obey him, how difficult it was for him to get out of bed each day, his constant pain. A knot of guilt formed in her stomach at not being with him, not having to see him suffer.

  “That is difficult,” Carmenna said. “With symptoms like that it could be anything. I’ll do my best to help you, but I’m still studying. Why not have a physician look at him?”

  “I doubt he could make the journey to Cresh,” said Yenni.

  “Well, couldn’t you have a healer go to him then? Or is that too costly?”

  “Exactly that,” said Yenni, latching on to Carmenna’s explanation. It would be troublesome to tell her the real reason they couldn’t simply import a Creshen healer—no Creshen had visited the Yirba in hundreds of years. Think of the insult to the Healers’ Guild! If the first Creshen to set foot on Yirba soil in centuries was brought in to save the chieftain, it would be politically devastating, especially when there was no guarantee that a Creshen healer would be any more knowledgeable. Even Yenni’s journey would cause grumbles, but as she was on Orire N’jem, who could argue with the Sha?

  “I have heard that there have been instances of a similar illness in Cresh recently,” said Yenni.

  Carmenna tore of a hunk of bread and chewed, lost in thought. “There has been something going on, yes. My professor brought it up just today, in fact, in Advances in Magical Physicry. To be honest, it has the medicinal community, both magical and not, somewhat at a loss. The onset is sudden, and leaves the patient weak and gaunt, no matter how much they eat. They seem especially prone to respiratory issues. Has your father been coughing up blood?”

  “Yes,” Yenni all but whispered.

  Carmenna clicked her tongue. “That’s not good.”

  “Is there no cure? No treatment?”

  “Well, that’s the thing. Apparently, the first case of this illness was reported more than a year ago, and no one has been able to determine what causes it or the best course of treatment. The only good thing is it doesn’t seem to be contagious. Still, it’s somewhat alarming, especially the name.” She dunked her bread in her stew and glanced up at Yenni. “They call it the wither-rot.”

  “I see,” said Yenni. She stirred her stew dejectedly, her appetite having fled. So the Creshens knew no more than she did.

  “I’m sorry, Yenniajeni. I do wish I could be of more help.”

  “It’s Yenni Ajani.”

  “Ah,” said Carmenna, wincing. “Sorry.”

  “That’s all right,” said Yenni, waving absently. Where was she to go from here? Why would the Sha tell her to seek magic if magic could not help her? “Is there no one else who would know more about this?” Yenni asked Carmenna. “Your professor, perhaps?”

  “The most likely person would be the head of the magical d
epartment here at Prevan.”

  “Oh? Who is that?”

  “Professor Claudieux Mainard, Magus Grande, First Class.”

  Yenni sighed. Oh Father Esh, why him?

  “Yes, good luck there,” said Carmenna. “I’ve always found that man to be like a snappish crab. His hairstyle even resembles one.”

  She made two crab hands above her head and the two burst into laughter. As their chuckles died down Carmenna cleared her throat.

  “Did—were you able to speak to Weysh?”

  The dragon. Hot, buzzing annoyance tingled under her skin at the thought of him, but then she recalled sitting peacefully by the water with him as a beast, and her emotions cooled into something warm and fond.

  “I did,” she told Carmenna. “He is as stubborn as you say, but I will get through to him.”

  Carmenna hummed as she stirred her own stew, the sound full of disbelief. Yenni watched her, utterly confused. Here was a woman who was smart and driven. She wasn’t promised to anyone, and could have any man she chose. So why by all that was holy did she pine for the affections of that arrogant dragon?

  Yenni squinted at her. “What is it that you see in him? Ah! I know. You like to fly together.”

  “Byen above, no! I can’t stand flying.” Carmenna shuddered. “I suppose what attracts me to Weysh is his honesty. It’s a rare trait, especially among men.” She gave Yenni a knowing look. “But what you see is what you get with him. There’s no trying to decide if he’s manipulating you—he simply lacks the guile.” Carmenna laughed. “And he can be quite considerate. Once when I was in the middle of an exam, a torrential rain pour started up suddenly, and I had a good walk to my residence. I was dreading it, but when I came out I found Weysh waiting on the steps. He’d been there since the last clock chime, and he shielded me with his wing all the way back.”

  Yenni considered this. She supposed that fit with what she’d seen of his character, but what of his brashness? His presumptiveness? His hardheaded nature?

  It matters not in the end. I will almost certainly be married off when I return.