Given Page 5

  “Oh! Weysh!” She smiled but there was a wariness to it. Still, Weysh strode around the plush rug to the wing chair where she sat and draped an arm around her in a loose hug. She turned and pecked him on the cheek. Weysh gave the man across from her a terse nod, which was returned in kind.

  “What a surprise!” said his mother. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

  He cleared his throat. “I have good news.”

  “Oh?” said his mother, her brown eyes wide. “What is it?”

  The goofy grin crept onto his face again. “I’ve met my Given.”

  Sylvie squealed from behind him, and Montpierre told her to hush.

  His mother eyed him over the rim of her cup. “Truly? Is it that beauty with the long black hair? The one from Espanna you brought to dinner? She’s quite stunning.”

  Sylvie laughed and perched on the arm of her father’s chair. “You only say that because she looks a lot like you, Maman.”

  His mother cocked her head to the side. “Does she?”

  Weysh brushed aside the bubble of guilt at the mention of Carmenna, the only woman he’d ever introduced to his family. “She doesn’t look anything like Maman,” he said indignantly, feeling mildly disturbed. “And no, it’s not her. You know that’s not how mating works for dragons.”

  “I know no such thing,” said his maman, a bit sharply. “Besides, I remember you telling me you intended to choose your own Given.”

  “Yes, well, things have changed.” None of his family were dragonkind. How to explain to them the compulsion his Given had over him, right from the first meeting? The way her scent made strange tingles of bliss radiate from his skull down his spine?

  Montpierre coughed. “Hmph. I suppose this means you’ll stop terrorizing the women of Imperium Centre?”

  “Papa,” Sylvie warned, but Weysh only fixed the man with his violet eyes and threw him a lazy smile.

  “Yes, Montpierre, I suppose it does.”

  “Who is she?” asked Sylvie.

  “Yenni Ajaya . . . something. Anyway, she’s a fiery little thing from the Moonrise Isles.”

  “Oh! The Sunrise Isles! Like your grandpapa deceased!” cried his mother. “We’ll have to take a trip together—it’s been too long since I’ve visited my brother on the Islands.”

  Weysh shook his head. “Not the Sunrise Isles, Maman. The Moonrise Isles.”

  “Oh. Oh that is something. Have you ever met anyone from the Moonrise Isles, my love?” She directed the question at Montpierre.

  “Never,” he said, and sighed. It turned into a fit of coughs that had Sylvie leaning forward in concern. He waved her off as he brought a kerchief to his mouth, and spoke again once the coughs subsided. “But of course you would match with a woman from the other side of the world. So you’re to be married, I take it?” said Montpierre, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

  “As soon as possible.”

  “Just splendid.”

  Anger flushed the back of Weysh’s neck. “Look, Montpierre, I know you were itching to stick another dragon in your family tree, but consider yourself lucky to even have me.”

  “Yes,” Montpierre drawled. “I cannot contain my glee at having to leave my estate to my wife’s bastard dragon son.”

  “Stop it now! Both of you!” shouted Sylvie. She looked close to tears. His mother hung her head, silent, as always.

  It was time to leave, before Weysh said something he would later regret, but it would be a record-breaking shortest visit home. He hadn’t even had a chance to say hello to their housekeeper, Genie. No doubt she was puttering in the cellar and hadn’t heard him arrive, or she’d surely have come to greet him. She’d be hurt he’d stopped by without seeking her out, but it was best that he go.

  “I just wanted to share the good news,” said Weysh, voice clipped. “I’ll be going now.”

  Sylvie rushed over from her place at her father’s side. “You won’t even stay for dinner?”

  He softened at the disappointment on her face. “No. Sorry, lovely. But how about sometime next week I pick you up and we spend the day together?”

  “I will not have Sylvie riding dragonback—”

  “We’ll go by tram,” Weysh snapped at Montpierre.

  Sylvie clapped. “I love riding the trams!”

  Weysh chuckled. “I know.” He hugged her. “Until then, en?”

  He turned and gave his parents an exaggerated, mocking bow before sweeping out of the room.

  The soft tinkling of the fountain water and skritching of crickets didn’t do much to ease Weysh’s nerves. Shortly after leaving his parents, he’d left a note in Carmenna’s residence letter box to meet him that night at the eastern square. The first day of classes was done, the sun descended and the moon aglow, and now Weysh perched like a nervous bird on the edge of the fountain as he waited for Carmenna to arrive.

  Her scent reached his nose well before he saw her coming. It had always reminded him of vanilla—well, not exactly vanilla, but something like it: simple, sweet, and comforting. She’d become a soothing presence in his life. He would often seek her out after visiting his parents. She would listen while he ranted about Montpierre, making soft noises of agreement. And when she felt stung by the cold distance of her own papa, he would reassure her that she was a wonderful daughter, that she’d make a world-class healer, and then her father would undoubtedly come around. Her father was all she had, after all—her mother had died giving birth to her.

  Carmenna’s scent was quite different from his Given’s, which had a pleasant sweetness to it as well, but woven into something spicy, almost stinging. Not comforting, per se, but invigorating, like mint, perhaps, or pine, except not.

  At last Carmenna stepped out from the night, her dark hair streaming behind her, glossy in the light from the tall lamps ringing the square. The way she smiled as she caught sight of him, happy and warm, made him want to change to dragon and simply take off, but he would not. He would face her.

  Gathering her skirts, she plopped down beside him on the fountain’s edge. “Hi, Weysh!” she chirped, and moved in to kiss him. Weysh gently put a hand to her shoulder, stopping her. “What is it?” she asked, her brows drawing together. “Weysh, what’s wrong?”

  He made himself meet her searching brown eyes. “I’ve met my Given.”

  She drew in a breath, a short, soft gasp, and jerked back from him. “Oh,” she breathed, and paused for a moment. “Oh.” She gripped her chest but didn’t look away, and even as Weysh watched, her eyes went from pleading to angry to defeated.

  “I’m sorry, Carmenna.”

  “What is there to be sorry for?” she said, and though she smiled, her eyes were wet with tears. “Dragons are Given, after all. Although you said . . .”—and here her voice took on a note of accusation—“I thought you were a severed dragon.”

  “I know. I assumed—I believed—I had no mate. But there’s no mistaking it. I wish I could explain, but she’s my Given. I’m sure of it.” He hadn’t even been in dragon and he’d been able to pick out her scent across the quad. But of all the unlucky timing, he’d been just about to leave on a delivery. He’d only had time to change and smell her up close, to confirm for sure who she was, before taking off.

  Carmenna gathered her skirts again and rose. “I see,” she said, and dipped in a shallow curtsy to him. “Thank you for letting me know, Weysh. Have a good night.”

  “What, you’re leaving?”

  “Yes.”

  “But shouldn’t we talk about this?”

  “About what?” she snapped, and then quickly composed herself, standing tall. “Do you intend to forsake your Given to be with me?”

  “Of course not!”

  She flinched at that, and Weysh grimaced. That was poorly done, but he’d never been good at tact. More often than not his thoughts flew from his mouth before he c
ould stop them.

  “That’s not how I meant it, Carmenna. But now that I’ve met my Given, I can’t love you . . . ah Byen.” He ran a nervous hand across the itchy stubble of his beard as the fountain trickled behind them.

  “The way you love her,” Carmenna whispered.

  “The way you deserve,” he said firmly.

  “Then we’ve said all that needs to be said.” She nodded to him. “Good-bye, Weysh.”

  She disappeared into the darkness, heading back toward her residence building. Weysh didn’t try to stop her.

  The next morning, just after the sun cleared the horizon, Weysh took off from the rooftop of his townhouse. The air was misty with early spring’s chill, and he winged between soaring pastel houses and shops, his wind rustling the flowers in the window boxes. The first trams of the morning trundled and clanged along the tracks beneath him. He was on his way to see one of his professors about an extra-credit course he planned to take.

  The night before he’d decided that though he desperately wanted to, he would not yet seek out his Given, partially to give her space and partially out of respect for Carmenna. But as often happened, his dragon mind had dragon plans. As he closed in on the plinths and columns of Prevan Academy the scent of his Given found him, the barest hint of that sharp sweetness teasing his nose. He let out an elated screech and dove after it.

  As her aroma grew, so did his excitement. He knew just what to do. He would fly her to one of his favorite spots—a mossy cave sunk into a cliff off Northfall River. And then they would . . . well, he wasn’t sure what. Sit together? Enjoy the glint of the sun off the water? All he knew was that her scent called to him as surely as if she shouted his name.

  He spotted her: a tiny dark figure marching toward the training sands with a long, metal spear in her hand. Angling low, Weysh swooped in and grabbed her in his arms. She yelled, the spear slipping from her grasp. Weysh let out one more happy screech and, flapping his great wings, shot off for his secret cave.

  5

  Yenni’s stomach dropped. She could withstand no more than a few seconds of the ground falling away beneath her before she had to shut her eyes, turning her head against the leathery warmth of the dragon’s chest. His arms wrapped firmly around her waist as his wings beat the air. She did not struggle, but held tighter.

  They flew for what seemed like eternity to Yenni, until the dragon finally arced into a mossy hollow carved into a cliff face and touched down with a few quick beats of his wings. He let her go and changed into a man once more, so fast it was as if there had never been a huge dark beast before her, but a man the whole time.

  “Lovely, listen,” he said and stepped toward her, arms outstretched. She had no weapon, and she’d burned through all her offensive runes, using them up as magic was prohibited during the test, but she was not defenseless. She shuffled back toward the mouth of the cave, letting him get closer.

  Father Gu, sacred warrior, lend me your aid.

  As the dragon reached for her she yelled, grabbed his arm, and spun up perpendicular to him. She bent over and, using his own forward momentum, rolled him over her hip, clean out of the cave toward the loud river below.

  Yenni peeked over the lip of the cave, her heart beating in her chest like a nectar bird. The beast screamed and rose up before her. She scrambled back, cursing herself.

  Mothers and Fathers, I forgot he could fly!

  He swooped into the cave and once again became a man who stared at her, bewildered.

  “I warned you, Dragon,” she said, ready to grab and break his arm should he accost her again. “Stay away!”

  He blinked at her. “One, how in the name of Byen did you do that? I’m twice your size. Two, did you just try to kill me?”

  “Yes, and next time I will succeed.”

  She watched his face twist with outrage and then soften into something pained. He sniffed. “Are . . . are you afraid of me?”

  “Of course not!”

  “You can’t lie to a dragon, lovely, I can smell it,” he said softly. “I apologize. I can get carried away when I’m in dragon.” He grimaced. “In hindsight, whisking you away unannounced wasn’t the best course of action.”

  “Let me pass,” Yenni snarled. “The battle aptitude test is about to begin.”

  “Byen above, that’s today! I’d forgotten admissions were still happening. First-year classes start later than ours,” he mused. “Come, I’ll take you back.”

  “Absolutely not,” said Yenni. “I will get back on my own.”

  “En? How?”

  She mustered up all her courage and marched past him to survey the cave entrance. The mouth opened to a sheer drop halted only by the rushing river. Yenni’s breathing turned to short, panicked gasps. Curse this ridiculous dragon! If she didn’t get back soon, she’d miss the test and her chance to enter the academy. The next registration period was in six moonturns, and she didn’t have time to waste. Her father’s condition was getting worse, and the Sha were watching, judging. She must gain entrance now.

  Yenni glanced left and right. The cliff face had some good footholds, but even if she made the treacherous climb down, what then? It would take ages to walk back to the academy.

  “Let me fly you back, sweet lovely,” said the dragon. “It will take less than a minute.”

  She whirled and faced him. “My name is not ‘sweet lovely.’ It is Yenni Aja-Nifemi ka Yirba!”

  He raised his hands. “All right, lo—I mean, Yenni-Ayi . . . hmm. That doesn’t change the fact that we need to get you back.”

  No, it didn’t. She could let the dragon fly her or she could miss the test.

  She fixed him with a fierce glare. “When you become a dragon, what is your weakest point?”

  He sighed again. “Besides my eyes? My throat, where my neck connects with my shoulder blades, though I suppose you could do some damage if you could get under the scales at the top of my spine. And my wings, of course.”

  “Are you impervious to fire?”

  “In dragon, yes, and as a man if I concentrate.”

  “If water cannot harm you, what can?”

  “So that’s what the shower was about,” he mumbled. “Well, I’m not partial to ice.”

  Though it pained her to admit she didn’t know the word, she had to ask. “What is ice?”

  His brow furrowed. “What’s ice? Ice is frozen water, lovely.”

  Yenni gritted her teeth. “What do you mean by frozen?”

  “Well . . . frozen. Hard.”

  “Ice is . . . hard water.” What was this dragon going on about? No matter. It was too much to expect he would reveal everything, and she was running out of time.

  “Fine, Dragon. Since this is your fault, you will take me straight back to the academy. Know that if I come away with so much as a scratch, you will draw down upon you the full wrath of the Yirba. This I promise you.”

  “The what?” he said, and shook his head. “No harm will come to you, my heart. On my honor as a dragon. Have you ever ridden dragonback?”

  “I have not.”

  “It’s simple. Once I’m in dragon, climb up and settle between the ridges on my back. Hold on and I’ll take care of the rest. If I wiggle my right shoulder, I’m about to bank right. If I wiggle my left shoulder, left.”

  “Shouldn’t there be some sort of saddle?”

  He scoffed. “A saddle?! What am I, a hire horse?”

  “Suppose you drop me?”

  His face hardened. “I’ve never once lost a rider. I’m not about to start with my Given.”

  “I am not—” Yenni breathed deeply through her nose, calming herself. Now was not the time to debate his ridiculous claim. “Could you not carry me like before?”

  “Not that I would ever let you go in a million years, but dragonback is technically safer. More surface area.”

&nbs
p; Yenni sighed. There was nothing for it. “Very well, change,” she said, flicking her hand at him.

  “Demanding little thing, aren’t you?” he muttered, but he jogged backward to make room, and all at once he was a dragon, huge and steaming. Slowly, he lumbered around so that he faced the shadows of cave’s back wall, carefully presenting her with his tail. She climbed up, not particularly worried about hurting him, and settled into a valley near the top of his spine, where she could do the most damage if something went awry. She grabbed the hump in front of her, curling her legs back on either side, the scales smooth and warm against her skin.

  “I am ready!” she called.

  The beast snorted and turned to face the mouth of the cave, jostling her, and a bout of nerves assailed her courage. She shook her head. It will be like flying a field sphinx, she coached herself. Just like flying Ofa. Nothing I haven’t done before.

  The dragon gave a warning cry, ran, and jumped, spreading his wings. Yenni yelped as they dropped slightly, her stomach heaving, and then they were gliding on the air.

  Cold wind screamed at her, drawing tears from her eyes and slapping her braids painfully against her face. It was nothing like flying a field sphinx. They were much higher up. Worst of all, she had no control. He made no response when, on instinct, she flexed her thighs and called. The dragon simply kept his wings out and rode the air.

  She ducked her head and squinted, and through the gap between the dragon’s long neck and outstretched wings she caught a dizzying glimpse of the ground below. The world raced by like a living map. There were the towering buildings of Imperium Centre reaching up vainly toward them—the castle, sturdy and grand at the city’s heart; the river running alongside the metropolis; paths carving up the neat fields of barley and maize to the east; and just ahead, the sprawling academy. It was incredible to see, and despite herself a wide smile took hold of Yenni’s face. She hardly noticed when the dragon’s left shoulder bounced up and down. He began to turn.

  Yenni screamed as she slipped from her perch.