Given Page 13

  The two of them came back with a dark-covered book. Perrone’s Incantation Compendium gleamed in gold writing on the front and Zui threw Harth a smug grin. Harth and Zui went over the spells with her as Yenni’s head ached and ached, until at last she stopped them.

  “I cannot even read the words on the page anymore,” she admitted. “They’re swimming before my eyes.”

  “Then we should call it a night,” Harth said. “All the studying in the world won’t do any good if you’re too tired to recall what you’ve learned. Do you think you’ll be ready for tomorrow?”

  “I must be,” she said. “I must pass.”

  Zui squeezed her hand. “I believe in you, Yenni Ajani. You can do this.”

  And so the next day Yenni sat her exams, sweating and struggling through every answer and demonstration. But she gave each test her best effort, using all the time allotted.

  Two days later, with her heart in her throat, Yenni stepped up to the front of the lecture building. In the foyer, professors’ aides were still spelling the grades into slabs of marble, and though the sun had just risen, there was already a big crowd of students gathered.

  Her chest constricted when she spotted her name chiseled into the stone. As she skimmed, and read, and reread her results, a cold sweat broke out on her forehead, and her hands went clammy wet.

  She had failed every magical exam except Basics of Runelore.

  13

  Weysh flopped on his bed, sighing in relief. For the past moonturn he had thrown everything into his classes, determined to achieve top marks, and when he checked the grade tablets that afternoon, his chest had swelled with satisfaction. His battle stats were the highest they had ever been, and he was even doing well in his one remaining magic class: Advanced Offensive Spells for Combat. Truth be told, the constant drilling helped distract him from the Given bond tugging relentlessly at him, demanding he claim Yenni Ajani as his. Her scent was everywhere: he could tell which halls she’d passed through, where she’d sat in the library or the dining hall—day in and day out small reminders of her tormented him. But after their disastrous last meeting, he was at a loss as to how to approach her, how to win her over. And so he’d studied, but now he had no more exams, no more distractions, and far too much time to think.

  What reason would I have to marry you? Yenni Ajani had asked him. Weysh shoved his hands behind his head on his pillow and growled his frustration at the ceiling. Being dragonkind had always been enough before, but now, with his Given of all women, it wasn’t. Very well, he would show her. As a top-ranking officer in the Imperial Army he would be able to provide for her every want and comfort, and she would forget all about this other man she was supposed to marry, whomever he was.

  Certainly her lifestyle with Weysh would be more luxurious than on the Islands. If she lived anything like his cousins did, she might reside in a modest house built on stilts, open to the air. She might have a room of her own perhaps, if her father was a successful merchant or owned a business, like his uncle. Her family must have some reasonable bank if they could afford to send her to Prevan Academy. Maybe she . . .

  Weysh froze. Was her father a merchant? Did she have any brothers or sisters? Byen above, two turns of the moon and he’d learned next to nothing about his Given other than her name. He’d heard all of Carmenna’s deepest wishes and fears, but he knew so little about Yenni Ajani that he could only make guesses and assumptions about her life back home. No wonder he couldn’t tell her he loved her—he hardly knew her. Had she even passed her classes? He was so caught up in his own efforts he’d forgotten to check. Weysh groaned and knocked himself in the forehead with his palm. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He resolved to check the results first thing tomorrow.

  However, that turned out to be unnecessary. Harth came over that night with a bottle of Ritter’s cognac—the good stuff. The two of them sat in Weysh’s den, puzzling over a game of kings and castles.

  “Not that I mind the silence,” said Harth as he snatched another one of Weysh’s pieces, “but since when am I able to get through a game of kings and castles without a never-ending stream of shite talk from you? I’d say you’re focused on the game, except you’re losing so badly that can’t be it . . . or maybe it can. This is you we’re talking about, after all.”

  Weysh just grunted and moved one of his pieces, hoping to steal one of Harth’s the next round.

  Harth took the piece Weysh just moved with one of his own, and gave him a sympathetic look. “Byen, Weysh, I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but what’s your plan?”

  “En? Plan for what?”

  “Your Given!”

  Weysh stared at him blankly.

  “She didn’t pass her magic classes. By the Kindly Watcher, did you really not know?”

  Weysh felt his stomach dive. “She didn’t pass?”

  “No, my friend, she didn’t.”

  “She’s leaving?” Weysh rasped.

  “I don’t see how she can stay. Weysh, I’m sorry, en? I mean, maybe you can convince her to stay with you but . . .” His voice trailed off as Weysh put his head in his hands, gazing down at the whorled wood of the table without seeing it.

  “This is my fault,” Weysh said, more to himself than Harth. He got like this with too much cognac—moody and introspective. “I should have been there to help her but I pushed her away. Some Given I am.” Harth said nothing, and Weysh looked up at him. “What, no comment? That’s rare,” he said bitterly.

  Harth shrugged. “You’re doing a fine job of summing things up on your own.”

  “Byen, I have to help her. She’s smart, Harth, she just needed more time. Oho! Your father could talk to the head of the magical department. Your family has donated a small fortune to this school, en?”

  But Harth shook his head. “He’s away for the next half moonturn,” he said.

  Weysh sighed. “Of course he is. I have to find some way to help her. I can’t let her leave now, not when I’ve finally realized . . .” He trailed off, not exactly sure how to articulate his thoughts from earlier.

  “What?” prompted Harth. “I can practically see the gears turning in your head. Don’t strain yourself.”

  “Being Given and being married are two different things,” said Weysh.

  “So close,” said Harth.

  “Being Given and being in love are two different things.”

  Harth reached across the table and punched him playfully in the shoulder. “Give the man a prize!”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Harth snorted. “Would you have listened?”

  Weysh stayed quiet.

  “Hey, some things you’ve just got to learn the hard way, en? But if you didn’t know about Yenni Ajani failing her classes, what had you so quiet?”

  “I was thinking about how I know so much more about Carmenna than I do about my own Given.” He glanced up at Harth. “I do feel bad about how things ended with Carmenna, en? I think I shouldn’t have strung her along as I did, but since we weren’t sharing a bed I thought . . .” He paused and laughed roughly. “With the others, the transaction was simple: I got to have fun and they got to bed an unmated dragon. But maybe I was using Carmenna in a different way.”

  “And maybe she was using you, too, in a different way. Well, Weysh, I must say, this has been a day of vigorous thinking for you. You’re going to have one demon of a headache tomorrow, and not from the cognac.”

  “Go kiss a pig’s ass, Harth.”

  Harth only laughed.

  “I tried the same thing with Yenni Ajani, didn’t I? But she wouldn’t have it.”

  “Seriously, Weysh, how has your head not exploded yet?”

  Weysh closed his eyes and pinched his nose bridge. “I want to know more about my Given, Harth—really get to know her. I’ll find her first thing tomorrow. I need to apologize, and I need to mak
e this right.”

  14

  Yenni lay with her eyes wide open as the sun slowly rose, lighting up her chamber in oranges and golds. Three days they had given her to vacate the school. Three days—now two.

  For the fiftieth, maybe sixtieth time, she checked the rune on her left palm, the tightness in her chest releasing at the sight of it—just as strong as the day her father had drawn it there. “I haven’t failed you yet,” she whispered to it. There was still time. She swallowed, fighting back the constant lump that had formed in her throat, that ever-present despair that threatened to strangle her. The Sha still watched, there was still time.

  She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Father Ri, once more I throw myself upon the mercy of your divine wisdom, she prayed. Lend me your insight, show me how I can stay, how to release my father from the illness that weakens and pains him, how I may please you and avoid drawing your wrath. For two moonturns she’d poured everything into her studies, both for her classes and with Carmenna, learning about healing magic and the body. But not only was she no closer to finding something that might help her father, she had proven herself unworthy to attend the academy. She’d never felt like such a failure.

  The room suddenly seemed too small, the walls too encroaching, and her bed a soft prison. The sun was up on her second day, and she had work to do. Yesterday she’d looked for Captain Augustin, though it made her skin seem to crawl with shame to do so. She dreaded admitting her failure to him, but he had been her advocate before, perhaps he could help her again. However, there were no classes for five days after examinations, and the professors were given time off as well. She hadn’t been able to find him anywhere on campus, and after a few hours of looking she’d given up and spent the day in the library, studying and practicing the spells that gave her the most trouble until her head ached.

  Today she would seek him again, starting with the training sands. By the grace of lucky Ib-e-ji, he would decide to run through some battle exercises during his vacation. Yenni decided she would spend a few hours doing so as well. If nothing else, it would help her work off the nervous, panicky energy just under the surface of her careful calm. She washed and dressed in her hunting clothes from home—short pants and a simple green top that wrapped around her middle and over each shoulder, crossing on her back. Then she set out for the training sands.

  The campus was peacefully silent with the students taking a well-deserved break after examinations. The towers and spires of the academy rose like tall, gray sentinels over the pristine green lawns and snaking white paths of the grounds. Yenni’s sandals crunched on the grass, wet with morning dew, until she reached the wide swath of the training sands. She hadn’t expected Captain Augustin to be there right away, but her heart sank just the same to see the place deserted. Her lonely steps crunched on the sand as she approached one of the training dummies—a vaguely broad-shouldered torso shape that stuck out of the sand on a thin pole. She’d just begun to stretch when the she caught the whoosh, whoosh of wingbeats above.

  She whipped her head up, and her heart thudded at the sight of Dragon. His scales glimmered violet in the morning light. It had been so long since she’d seen him, and she marveled at how pretty a figure he cut against the pink and orange of the morning sky, even as wary irritation crept into her muscles. He touched down in front of her and surged his head forward, a low, comforting gurgle coming from his throat. He put the warm side of his face to hers, and Yenni found herself closing her eyes, leaning into his touch, as if her tired brain couldn’t remember that the beast and the man were one.

  “Stay in dragon form,” she murmured. “Please. Just for a while.”

  He silently sank down and curled around her, his warmth warding off the morning chill. Yenni sighed and sat on the wet grass, leaning against him. “So you’ve heard,” she said.

  Another low, soothing noise.

  “I should have studied more,” she said, stroking the scales of his side, drawing comfort from the warm, rough feeling of them under her fingers. “During meals maybe, or at night until I fainted from exhaustion. I tried hard, Dragon, but I should have tried harder. And now—” Her breath hitched. She hardly wanted to contemplate it, but the Sha were watching, judging her, finding her lacking. She must find a way to stay, or . . .

  She yipped as the dragon’s warm bulk disappeared and she fell back, but strong hands caught her by the shoulders.

  “Byen, woman,” a deep voice rumbled behind her. “You reek of terror. What are you so afraid of?”

  Yenni shook his hands off and scrambled to her feet, but Weysh simply stayed seated on the sand, his violet eyes full of concern.

  She looked away. “Failure,” she whispered. Failure and the consequences for her father, for her tribe, for herself.

  “I’m so sorry, sweet lovely. This is my fault.”

  She squinted down him. “What are you talking about?”

  Weysh pushed himself to his feet, dusting off his loose, black trousers. He ran a hand through his hair, which now spilled long and free down his back. “I should have—” His eyes darted away and back, full of turmoil. “I should have been more focused on helping you. This never would have happened if I had been.”

  To her surprise, Yenni found herself wanting to laugh. There was such sincerity in his eyes, such arrogant sincerity, as if he truly believed he was all that stood between her and ruin.

  She put a hand on her hip and smirked at him. “So if I understand correctly, with you as my tutor, I would have been guaranteed to pass?”

  He nodded firmly. “Yes. I would have devoted every free moment to helping you. There’s no way I would have—should have let you fail. As your Given I’ve let you down. I’m sorry.”

  Yenni took one more look at his anguished face and burst into giggles. Oh Mother Shu, deliver this poor fool from the clutches of heedless love, she thought. When she looked up, he was scowling at her.

  “Well, at least you’re laughing,” he muttered.

  “You are certainly passionate, I will allow you that much,” said Yenni. “And confident as well.”

  “Yenni Ajani,” he began, and moved a step forward as if he meant to reach for her, but instead he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. “You don’t have to leave. Stay in the city with me. I’d give you the bedroom and sleep on the sofa or the roof. And I swear on my honor as a dragon I would never put so much as a finger on you. I’ll stay in dragon when we’re alone if that helps, but don’t leave. Please. There’s so much more I want to know about you.”

  Yenni turned her head to the side, studying him. “Stay with you, the man who grabbed me like a mauling bear? The man who insists I must marry him?”

  He winced as if in pain. “I see now that I acted somewhat beastly toward you in my, erm, enthusiasm to have met you.”

  “I could not go outside without constantly checking the skies for days after you whisked me away,” she told him.

  Remorse twisted his features. “I’m so sorry, lovely. Truly. I hate the thought that you might fear me.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his loose hair. “How about this—let’s start over, en?” He stuck his arm. “Weysh Nolan.”

  Yenni hesitated, then slowly reached out and grasped it. They shook.

  “Yenni Aja-Nifemi ka Yirba,” she said.

  “Yenni Ajani Femi Kayirba. Yenni Ajani Femi Kayirba.” The dragon repeated her name under his breath.

  “No talk of marriage,” Yenni told him.

  He nodded. “No talk of marriage. I simply want to help you.”

  “Why?” asked Yenni, wary.

  “Because—” He crossed his arms and bowed his head, thinking. At last he met her eyes. “Because I like you, Yenni Ajani. I like your confidence and I like your tenacity. I feel we’re two of a kind.”

  She studied him. What was it Carmenna has said? He lacked the guile for manipulation? “I believe you,
” she said at last. “And I don’t want to. Leave, that is.”

  But could she really stay with him? It was a bad, bad, bad idea. Because leave she would, eventually, and when the time came, he would not let her go easily. But what were her other options?

  “Is that a yes? You’ll stay with me?”

  But Yenni shook her head. “No. I need to speak to Captain Augustin. Perhaps he can help me.”

  She tensed, waiting for another of his outbursts, but he simply nodded, his face grim. “I see. Well, I guess I have no choice but to respect your wishes, en? But my offer is always there. You only have to say the word.”

  “Thank you, Weh-sheh,” she said, and bowed her head to him. “By the way, do you know where I can find Captain Augustin? I am hoping he will want to train today and he will show up at the sands, but if not . . .” she trailed off uselessly.

  Weysh looked thoughtful. “He might. And there’s a good chance he’ll be in town tonight, at one of the pubs.” He cleared his throat. “So, speaking of pubs, what are your plans for the day?” he asked, far too casually.

  She kept her head down as she smiled, but made sure to wipe it from her face before she straightened. “Figuring out a way to stay. I will train at the sands and wait for Captain Augustin.”

  “Perfect! I’ll train with you,” he said.

  But Yenni wasn’t in the mood for company. She shook her head. “I need some time alone. To think.”

  “I see,” he said again, clearly disappointed.

  The smile tugged at Yenni’s lips again. “I have no intention of leaving, Weh-sheh. You’ll see me again.”

  “Count on it,” he said softly, a promise. “Farewell, Yenni Ajani.”

  Yenni smiled. “Good-bye, Weh-sheh.” He changed and took off, and as Yenni watched him soar away she found, for some strange reason, her spirits were just a little lighter.

  Yenni ran through her old, familiar spear drills—the ones she’d practiced during many a sunrise back home. First, swift gazelle, where she darted and spun to keep an enemy at bay, then wise tortoise, using her spear to block and parry, and finally fierce lion, where she struck hard with the blunt end of her spear and stabbed harder with the tip.