Given Page 17

  “What for?” Noriago challenged him.

  “I was talking to Carmenna,” said Weysh.

  “What would you have to talk to her about? She’s not your Given. She doesn’t want to talk to you, Nolan.”

  “Carmenna can speak for herself,” Weysh snapped, his already frayed nerves fraying further.

  “What is it, Weysh? Say what you have to say,” said Carmenna.

  “Look, we may not be Given, Carmenna, but I still care what happens to you. He,” Weysh said, and jabbed his finger in Noriago’s direction, “is not someone you want to associate with.”

  Carmenna’s eyes went soft, uncertain. “You care about me?”

  Noriago rolled his eyes. “Enough,” he said. “You can’t have every woman in Imperium Centre, Nolan. Let’s go,” he said to Carmenna, and took her wrist, pulling her away.

  “Wait,” she cried, and pulled back.

  “Let her go,” snarled Weysh. He took a step after them. Noriago did, in fact, let Carmenna go, but only to whirl around and shove Weysh hard enough to make him stumble back.

  “Or what, rat prick?”

  Gasps and murmurs rose from the shoppers around them. Weysh closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Can’t touch him. I’ll go to jail. Can’t touch him. I’ll get expelled.

  He opened his eyes and looked pointedly past Noriago at Carmenna. “Let’s get you back to campus.”

  Noriago pushed up close to Weysh’s face and let a bunch of curses fly in Espannic. “You think you’re better than me? Change, let’s settle this right here.”

  Weysh gave him an incredulous look. “You want to fight. In dragon. On the streets of West Castle West.” The place was usually crawling with peacekeepers, though he couldn’t see any in the immediate area. But there was a guardhouse the next street over.

  “I just can’t understand what makes you think you’re above me, Nolan, you know?” Noriago said, and shoved him again. Weysh curled his hands into two fists at his sides.

  Can’t touch him. Can’t touch him. Cursed Movay, he should have just kept his big mouth shut. He had to leave before he got himself into even more trouble.

  “Carmenna,” he said again. Urgent. Pleading.

  Noriago thrust his face in front of Weysh’s, breaking his eye contact with Carmenna. “She’s with me now, and I say she doesn’t want to talk to you. You have a Given—unless you plan to keep a stable of reluctant women like your real father. At least my parents are properly mated, you know?”

  Weysh’s fist flew.

  He connected with Noriago’s jaw and felt blazing satisfaction right in his gut as Noriago’s head snapped to the side.

  “Weysh!” Carmenna screeched, and her voice shuddered through him like nails on a slate, far too similar to the way his mother and sister had screamed at him only an hour ago. It doused the fire of his rage and he backed off.

  But Noriago snapped his eyes up to Weysh, a line of blood trailing down the side of his mouth, and smiled, savage and hateful. He jogged back into the middle of the street and changed into dragon. A dame in a ridiculous feathered hat cried out and dove to the left to avoid his swinging tail and her bags went flying, the contents spilling out all over the ground. Weysh rushed to help her up and gather her things.

  “We can’t fight out in the open street, Noriago,” Weysh yelled up at him as the woman leaned against him, moaning in distress and patting her precious hat. But Noriago ignored him and lunged, jaws wide.

  “By source make my movement quick!”

  Weysh recited Harquette’s Speed Burst to launch them both out of the way. He stood and turned to Noriago, astonished by the sheer audacity of him. “Are you insane?!” he shouted. The older woman fled, screaming, to the safety of the street side. Weysh took a hurried glance around to make sure no one would be underfoot, and changed.

  Noriago roared and rushed him. He slammed his bulk into Weysh, who stood firm as the other dragon snapped at him like a raving hound. Weysh strained and heaved him off, and though it was unwise to open his wings to an enemy, Weysh spread them and tried to fly, hoping to at least lure Noriago away from town.

  He only got a few feet off the ground before Noriago screeched, and Weysh could hear the mockery in it. Running? He grabbed Weysh by the tail and yanked him down again. Weysh howled, spikes of pain running along his tail and spine.

  Weysh turned back and snapped at Noriago, desperate to sink his teeth into whatever he could, but Noriago darted back. Weysh roared. Fire crackled painfully in his chest, and all his dragon instincts screamed at him to unleash it, but his man-mind held him back. Instead, he charged and stopped short at the last second, sweeping his tail around in an attempt to knock the other dragon off his feet. But Noriago leapt over it and slammed into Weysh. He clawed at Weysh’s shoulder, trying to pull him down and wrap his jaws around his neck. Weysh bucked, frantic. If Noriago got him by the neck he’d be finished.

  He beat at Noriago with his tail, using it like a whip, but Noriago wouldn’t let up. So Weysh rolled, praying everyone in the street had the sense to have gotten far clear of them. He slammed Noriago into the ground and scrambled to his feet. Weysh wanted more than anything in that moment to turn around and rip into Noriago with his teeth or melt his eyes with fire, but not here, where people could get caught in the blaze. He tried to take off again, but agony zipped up his left leg, ripping a piercing screech from him. Noriago held Weysh’s leg between his jaws, and the only way Weysh would fly off would be missing a limb. He swiped at Noriago with the claws of his other leg, aiming for his eyes, until at last Noriago let go.

  Weysh dropped clumsily to the ground. The two of them bent low on all fours and circled each other, growling and snapping. Noriago roared and charged for him again. Weysh roared back and charged to meet him, heedless of his injured leg.

  A piercing whistle sent pain lancing through his eardrums and he stumbled, his claws skidding on the stone.

  “Change back immediately or we will use whatever force necessary to restrain you,” said a female voice, magically amplified.

  Weysh’s anger diminished, leaving behind only a cold stone of dread in his stomach. He changed and slowly put his hands over his mouth, facing the contingent of peacekeepers fanned out around them, swords drawn.

  Noriago changed a second later and put his hands over his mouth as well, but Weysh could have sworn he saw something like triumph flash in his eyes.

  The woman at the center of the officers stared out from the shadow of her metal helmet. “You are both under arrest for reckless endangerment,” she said.

  Noriago ripped his hands from his mouth. “I would like to formally charge—”

  A spark crackled through the air and hit Noriago right in the chest. He fell to the ground, convulsing.

  The woman turned to Weysh. He pressed his hands tighter against his mouth.

  “You will come with us,” she said. “Resist, and as I said, you will be subdued using whatever force is necessary. You may not speak until you are in official custody, and then you will be interrogated to determine first strike.”

  She gestured and a couple of her officers moved forward. They held gag cloths, manacles, and dragon collars that would keep the two dragons from changing. The restraints all glowed with the strength of their magical wards.

  The cold stone in Weysh’s stomach turned to a block of ice. He’d punched Noriago first, and he’d be charged with first strike. And once the powers that be at Prevan heard what happened, they would expel him for sure. Five years of hard work, his shot at a high-paying post in the military, all of it gone right as he’d found his Given. Damned, thrice-cursed Movay.

  “Wait!” someone cried. The gathered crowd seemed to shiver as someone pushed their way through. It was the woman from before, the one Noriago had almost hit with his tail. Her pudgy face was red. “It was all him,” she said, stabbing a finger at Nori
ago. “He nearly sent me flying! That man was just trying to defend himself,” she said, and held out a hand in Weysh’s direction. “He even tried to get away.” She pointed at Carmenna. “The fight had something to do with that young woman there. She can tell you, the weaselly one there started everything!”

  Others in the crowd murmured their agreement. The high peacekeeper turned to Carmenna. “Is this true? Who had first strike?” she demanded.

  “It . . . I mean, that is . . .”

  “I will remind you it is against the law to lie to a high officer.”

  Carmenna lowered her eyes and pointed to Noriago. “Luiz had first strike. He shoved Weysh. Twice.”

  Luiz snapped his head up from where he knelt on the ground and fired off an explosion of rapid Espannic, earning him another zap from the peacekeepers. Carmenna cringed.

  The high peacekeeper took off her helmet, revealing a green face and shiny green hair cut in a short bob to her chin. She sighed. “Very well, you’re free to go,” she said to Weysh.

  Weysh dropped his hands and exhaled. “Thank you,” he said to the high officer, and then again to the woman who’d come to his defense, “Thank you.”

  She straightened up and beamed at him. “Oh, you’re very welcome, young man.”

  And then to Carmenna. “Thank you.”

  “All I did was tell the truth,” she said.

  Noriago shook as they pulled him upright, gagged, and bound him. He glared at Weysh as if he could kill him with his eyes alone, and Weysh knew somewhere, somehow, Noriago would exact his revenge.

  As the crowd dispersed, helped along by the peacekeepers, Weysh felt a light touch on his arm.

  “Are you all right?” Carmenna asked.

  “I’ve been better.” Weysh winced and rubbed at his sore leg. The pain from dragon injuries often transferred over to human bodies, if not the actual damage. It was just one of the many mysteries regarding the link between dragon and human. “Carmenna, I know it’s not my place, but Noriago—”

  “How is Yenni Ajani?” she asked sharply.

  Weysh sighed. “Well, if you must know, she failed all of her magic exams. Unless she can find some way to stay, she has to leave Prevan tomorrow.”

  “What? That’s awful! I had no idea!” Carmenna frowned, lost in thought. “What if . . . has she been doing any extracurricular activities? Working as a teaching assistant, for example? I know as a tutor I get some reprieve. There may be something there.”

  “En? Then we have to tell her! Come on! I’ll fly us, there’s no time to waste.”

  But she shook her head, backing away. “You know I’m not one for flying. Go on without me. I’ll speak with her later.”

  “Very well.” Weysh jogged backward into the wide main street where he had room to change. “Be well, Carmenna, and thank you.”

  He changed to dragon, ignoring the pain in his leg as it intensified. It was a minor injury, and his dragon body would heal it on its own. Weysh spread his wings, flapped, and took off to find Yenni.

  19

  The letter box beside Yenni’s sitting room door had papers of all colors peeking out. She’d been so distracted she hadn’t checked it for days, but it was not the time to be sifting through her messages. She’d already lost half the day, her last day, sleeping off her injuries from last night’s assault. Today she must put aside all her pride and appeal to that horrible Professor Mainard as soon as possible.

  But something about that mess of papers nagged at her. She raised the creaky lid of the metal letter box and sighed in dismay. Grabbing a handful of papers, she quickly skimmed through them: A reminder to vacate her residence by the end of the day. An official transcript of her shameful grades and—what was this? A missive from Professor Devon?

  Yenni Ajani,

  Come find me in my office as soon as you get this. I saw your exam scores. I know things must seem bleak, but there is a way you can remain at Prevan.

  Yours,

  Emmanuel Devon

  Yenni gasped and jumped to her feet, the other messages abandoned as she yanked the door open and dashed down the hallway, her sandals slapping on the marble tile.

  She came barreling down the stairs, and the foyer attendant made a small noise of shocked surprise as Yenni zipped past her. Yenni had just cleared the black, wrought-iron gate that marked the entrance to the residence when someone called out to her.

  “Yenni! Yenni Ajani!”

  She skidded to a stop and turned to see Professor Devon jogging up to her, his robe fluttering around him.

  “Professor!” she cried, and very nearly hugged him out of relief. “Praise the Mothers and Fathers!”

  “Where on Byen’s hallowed soil have you been? I’ve been trying to find you for the last two days! I promised myself I would camp here all day until you showed up. Did you get my message?”

  “Just now,” Yenni said breathlessly. “Is there really a way I can stay?”

  “Yes, but we have to act quickly. We can register you as my teaching assistant. Due to the increased workload you’re permitted one failed exam in each class without being expelled. With all the help you’ve been giving in my runelore lessons, you’re practically my assistant anyway. Not to mention there’s a nice little stipend that comes with the position as well.”

  Yenni grinned wide and let out a whoop of sheer joy. And then, unable to help herself, she threw her arms around him.

  “Thank you!” she cried. She pulled away, and at the sight of the strange, embarrassed half smile on Devon’s crimson face she felt her own cheeks start to burn as well.

  “Please excuse me, Professor, but I’m just so relieved!”

  “Quite all right,” he said and cleared his throat. “Completely understandable. I’m happy to help. Now, there is one thing—”

  He cut off as a high screech split the air. Yenni whipped her head up.

  Dragon!

  Her traitorous heart went light and happy at the sight of him, sleek and beautiful against the blue sky. He arced in toward them, and Yenni reached out to him, longing to feel the smooth, warm scales of his face against her fingers. But before he’d even hit the ground he changed, hitting the ground at a jog in that way he did. He hurried up to her.

  “Yenni Ajani,” he said, slightly breathless. “I think I may have a way you can stay at Prevan!”

  “Oh? I was just discussing the matter with Professor Devon here.”

  Weysh turned to Professor Devon. “Weysh Nolan,” he said and held out his hand.

  Devon clasped his arm firmly. “Professor Emmanuel Devon,” he replied, and it may have been Yenni’s imagination, but his voice seemed deeper than before.

  “Weh-sheh, Professor Devon is my runelore professor. He says that if I become his teaching assistant I can stay at the academy!”

  Weysh’s eyebrows rose. “Carmenna told me just the same. Is it true?” he asked Devon.

  “Absolutely,” Devon confirmed, and turned to Yenni. “But we have to act now. I need to make a case to the head of the magical department. We’ll need him to sign off on this even though you weren’t officially my assistant at the time of exams. But I’ll emphasize all the help you’ve given in class. I’m sure it will be fine.”

  “The head of . . . not . . . Professor Mainard?” Yenni asked hesitantly.

  “The very same.”

  Yenni sighed, slumping her shoulders. “For whatever reason, he’s not fond of me. I doubt he would be willing to grant me any favors.”

  “But that can’t be right. What could he possibly have against you, en?”

  “I’m not sure, but I assure you, he is not a fan of me.”

  Devon waved a hand dismissively. “Then we’ll give him a demonstration of runelore the likes of which he’s never seen. Whatever it takes. I don’t want to lose you, Yenni.”

  Weysh cleared his th
roat. “Yes, Yenni Ajani certainly is something special, isn’t she?”

  “Yenni Ajani is my preferred name,” she told Devon. “And thank you for your advocacy Professor Devon. I’ll do my best.”

  “Ah, I do apologize, Yenni Ajani.” His eyes flicked between her and Weysh. “If I may ask, how are the two of you acquainted?”

  “Weh-sheh is a friend of mine.” She turned to Weysh. “Isn’t that right?”

  He gave her a rueful smile. “That I am.”

  “I see. Well then, I’ll need to go finalize the paperwork. Yenni Ajani, put on your most impressive runes and meet me outside the administrative building by next chime.”

  “Yes, Professor, I’ll see you there.”

  “Then I’m off!” He dipped his head in a shallow nod to Weysh. “Messer Nolan,” he said, and hurried down the whitestone path.

  Weysh shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Well, I can’t say I care one ass boil for that professor.”

  “Weh-sheh!”

  “I only speak the truth, lovely.”

  “But why? He’s helping me stay.”

  “I have my reasons. But, and it’s like searing my own skin to say this, he can help you where I failed you, so I suppose that’s that, en?”

  There was real shame in his eyes. Dragon’s eyes. Against her better judgment Yenni touched him on the arm. “Thank you for trying, Weh-sheh. And thank you for coming to my aid last night.”

  He stared at her hand on his bicep, and then his eyes slid slowly to hers, full of that same intensity from the first time they’d met. She let her fingers fall away.

  “You act like I had a choice,” he said. “When I caught your scent laced with terror as it was, and your blood.” He shook his head. “I’ve never wanted to kill—rip and tear and kill—someone the way I did last night.” His face was anguished. “But I couldn’t find the man who stole from you. All I found was your empty bag. I’m sorry.”

  “There’s no need to apologize,” said Yenni. “It was my own lack of foresight that got me into this mess. And Professor Devon said I can earn a stipend as a teaching assistant. Furthermore, my tuition and lodging are already paid. I will be fine.”