Given Page 6

She rolled and tumbled, scrabbling against the smooth scales for some kind of purchase until she caught herself in the crook of his wing. The dragon screeched, high and urgent, and leveled out. Panting, Yenni hastened back to her spot among the ridges of his spine. “I am fine,” she shouted over the singing wind.

  He gave a low call that ended in a soft click, and wiggled his left shoulder dramatically. This time he turned slowly, almost laboriously, and she held tight as he angled toward the sandy pit where the test was to take place.

  He glided in and touched down on the grass so lightly she barely felt it, and swiftly ducked low so she could dismount. She slid from the dragon’s back and ran for her spear, glinting in the grass where she’d dropped it, praise all the Mothers and Fathers.

  “Byen, woman! I told you if I wiggle my left shoulder it means I’m banking left!” He was a man once more. “You almost scared my heart to a stop!”

  Yenni ignored him and snatched up her spear before sprinting for the training ground.

  “You’re welcome!” the lackwit dragon shouted after her. “Oh, and Byen’s favor!”

  Yenni slipped through the big wooden doors as two burly Creshen men pulled them shut. She hurried down the short steps, her sandals slapping the stone, and came to stand with the murmuring crowd, corralled like a herd of cattle on the sands of the open-air training ground. They were hemmed in by tall walls of dark lumber, reminding her of a ship’s hull. Out of the corner of her eye she caught other students glancing at her but she stared ahead, her chest heaving. She had no time for small talk.

  All the leather-clad backs in front of her were depressingly broad shouldered. It seemed most of the applicants were male, the same disturbing trend that had taken over the Sha Islands. Here and there she spotted skin of a darker hue, likely men from the Northern Sha Islands, or the Sunrise Isles, as the Creshens called them.

  The din from the group dropped in volume until all was quiet, and Yenni startled when a booming voice shattered the silence. It was louder than she’d ever heard anyone speak before, and it occurred to her the speaker must be amplifying it somehow with ach’e.

  “Welcome, young hopefuls! I’m Captain Augustin. Today’s test will put you through the paces so we can get a sense of your abilities in melee and with basic weapons.”

  Yenni stood on her toes but couldn’t see anything over the tall, shaggy heads before her.

  “Square up!” the voice shouted.

  They moved instantly, leaving Yenni looking left and right. Square up? What did this mean? The others were spreading into a wide circle . . . no, a square! Yenni scrambled to fit herself between two of her fellow candidates. At last they were all in place, and in the center of the square stood a squat Creshen man with close-cropped hair. His arms and calves bulged as if he’d stolen them from someone else’s body, and his wide smile betrayed more than one missing tooth.

  “Nice lot,” he said as he paced the square. “But then, the first group of the day is always the most keen.” As the captain’s eyes fell on Yenni she once again experienced “the look.” He came over to her.

  “Oho!” he said. “Where are you from?”

  “I am Yenni Aja-Nifemi ka Yirba and I am from the Moonrise Isles.”

  “Are you now? Well then, welcome!” he said, and slapped her shoulder. Yenni flinched, unused to being so casually touched by strangers. “Ah-ah, but wait? What is this?” He pointed at the white Masters’ rune peeking out from under her wrap shirt. “No magic allowed. Are you trying to cheat?”

  “No, not at all,” she said, her heart thumping even as she curled her hands to hide the runes on her palms. “It is simply a warning rune. It alerts me to threats on my life. I cannot remove it.”

  “Does it now,” he said thoughtfully, and Yenni’s chest clenched with anxiety. Please! I’m so close!

  “Well, certainly no one should be trying to kill you here, just some friendly sparring is all. And it’d be a shame to send you packing after you came all this way, en? But I’ll be watching you closely,” he warned.

  Yenni exhaled, relieved. “Yes, thank you.”

  “Can’t wait to see you in action,” said the captain, and he strode back to the center of the square. He crossed his huge arms. “Right. Prevan Academy of Battle and Magical Arts is the finest tactical school on the continent,” he declared. “We select only the fat of the meat, the best of the best, to take part in training here. To that end, the final challenge in today’s test will be something extra special, something I doubt many of you have encountered before.” He raised one eyebrow. “But first you’ll be sparring in groups of two, according to weight, while I observe.”

  He began pointing at various candidates. “You and you, and . . . you and you,” he called, pairing them off. Yenni ended up opposite a red-cheeked girl with hair like dry grass who refused to meet her eye. She clutched a wooden staff.

  In the end about forty pairs were spaced out in the sand. “Now, you’re aiming to subdue, not maim,” called the captain. “That said, each round will last two minutes, and the one showing the most wear will be removed. Ready yourselves!”

  Yenni brought up her spear. “Best of luck,” she said.

  The girl still wouldn’t look at her. “I don’t need your luck,” she spat. “As if I would let some foreigner from the Isles take my spot.”

  Yenni was so astonished she laughed, one sharp bark.

  “Begin!” the captain boomed.

  The girl took the most obvious tack and swung her staff at Yenni’s legs. Yenni gave her own spear a practiced twirl and stuck the tip in the sand. Wood struck steel with a clang. While her opponent reeled to the side, Yenni braced herself against her spear and kicked out, hitting the girl in the middle. She grunted and fell to her knees. Yenni waited. The girl stumbled to her feet with all the grace of a newborn goat, but once she was upright Yenni struck, a light rap to the knee that probably wouldn’t break it. The girl screamed and fell again, and this time she couldn’t rise.

  “Over already?” Captain Augustin cried as he caught sight of them. “I’ll have to keep a closer eye on you, en? Mam’selle Moonrise Isles, you’ll move up to the next round.”

  As the day’s trials went on, Yenni bested opponent after opponent, male and female, until only five prospectives remained on the sand. Yenni flashed Captain Augustin a triumphant smile as he surveyed them.

  “Well, well,” he said. “Five left. Next we’ll see how you work as a team. Ready yourselves.”

  She brought up her spear, and saw the others, all young men, take up their fighting stances as well. Yenni surveyed Captain Augustin, doing her best to gauge his weaknesses. Five on one seemed like an unfair fight, but he was their instructor, so who knew what surprises hid under his hat.

  He burst into a loud laugh that commandeered his whole mouth. “Oh, you won’t be fighting me!” he said, and rubbed his hands together. “I just love this part.” He shielded his eyes with a meaty hand and squinted into the open cloudless sky. “Right on time, as usual,” he said gleefully. “You’ll be fighting her!”

  A star glinted on the horizon, brighter than the day, and as Yenni watched the star grew brighter and bigger, until it turned into a creature flashing silver-blue in the sun, twisting and swirling in the sky like a magnificent giant eel. Yenni’s mouth dropped open.

  “Byen above!” someone shouted.

  “Square up!” Captain Augustin practically sang.

  They spread apart as the dragon arced down onto the sand, landing on four clawed feet. Unlike the ill-mannered beast who’d snatched her earlier, this dragon was serpentine and graceful. She glittered like diamonds, but Yenni was not fooled. Some of the most beautiful creatures were also the deadliest. It was futile, but Yenni desperately wished she had her runes.

  “Begin!” the captain shouted.

  Two of their group rushed the dragon while Yenni and two others hung
back. The dragon’s chest heaved and with two darts of her head she shot white jets of water at her assailants, which sent them flying back to thud on the sand. Yenni’s eyes went wide. In all the lore of her homeland, she’d never heard of dragons spitting water. The pretty dragon swung her long neck to face Yenni’s group.

  Water or fire, it mattered not. Yenni’s goal remained the same: subdue this dragon and claim her spot at the academy. According to that brute from earlier, a dragon’s weak points were the eyes, the area where the neck connected with the shoulder blades, under the scales at the top of the spine, and the wings. But try as she might, she could catch no hint of wings on the smooth length of the creature. It was impossible, but she didn’t seem to have wings at all!

  “Spread out!” the Creshen beside her shouted, but the dragon screeched and snapped at him as he tried to get behind her. He jumped back, just dodging her sharp teeth. Yenni tried to get around the other side, but the dragon turned and shot a quick stream of water at her. Yenni dove as the stream grazed her arm, making her skin burn. A quick inspection showed a bleeding scrape caused by friction. It was the speed and pressure of the water that caused the damage, not the temperature.

  The dragon’s attention was on herding the other Creshens back where she could see them. She snapped and spat at the others, and lashed her tail back and forth, keeping Yenni at bay. Instinctively, Yenni tried to pull on her focus rune and spot an opening, but of course the rune was gone. She could find no wings to exploit, and no matter how much she wanted to enter the academy, it would be absurd to blind the dragon during a simple exercise.

  She retreated slowly, giving herself some distance while praying the dragon didn’t notice and catch on to what she was about to do. By the grace of Father Gu, the other applicants kept her occupied. Yenni twisted her spear, transforming it from long to short. Then she ran, her sandals slapping the sand, and leapt onto the dragon’s back. The creature screeched and turned, trying to get at Yenni. As the dragon’s great head swung around to face her, Yenni brought the tip of her spear to the tender flesh at the base of the dragon’s throat. One wrong move and the creature would be impaled.

  Any moment Yenni expected the captain to call a halt to the sparring and declare her team the winners. Instead, the dragon twisted and rolled, sending Yenni tumbling to the sand. Yenni scrambled to her feet and backed away, lest she be crushed. The dragon’s screech rent the air and, like a snake shooting venom, she sent five precise jets of water at each of her assailants. Yenni had no time to think before she was hit square in the stomach and thrown back, the wind knocked out of her.

  “Enough! Duval takes it,” she heard the captain yell. Duval? Zui Duval? As Yenni lay in the mud, unable to do anything but wheeze, she knew the dragon had been toying with them. What manner of test was this?

  Yenni was livid. If she’d been allowed to use her runes—but she hadn’t, and now she had failed. Even after the pain in her middle had subsided, and she was able to fill her lungs with air, she lay in the mud. It wasn’t until Captain Augustin came over and offered her a hand up that she rose, but she couldn’t meet his eye. Zui Duval was back on the ground. To Yenni’s shame hot tears invaded her sight. Though she wanted nothing more than to run off and cry in private, she was a daughter of the Yirba, so she stood with the rest, muddy and miserable, and waited for the captain to officially dismiss them.

  He came to stand beside Zui, clapping thickly. “Well done,” he cried, and pointed at Yenni. “Very well done. Give us more of the same at the magical aptitude test and I’ll see you all on the first day of lessons, en?”

  “You mean we passed?” said a Creshen to her right.

  “You certainly have, in my estimation.” He looked around at their shocked faces, not even trying to hide his glee. “What, you think I expected you newlings to subdue a dragon? With no magic? Especially one as accomplished as Madame Duval here?” He laughed with abandon. “I needed to see your ability to adapt, to handle the unexpected. And I dare say I’m delighted.”

  Disconcertingly quickly, Zui changed back to a woman. “Congratulations, everyone!” she called, and “Hello, Yenni Ajani! Sorry about that.”

  The Creshens whooped and Yenni grinned, waving back to her dragon friend without a hint of animosity in her heart. She’d passed! Her final obstacle was the magical exam, and that she would conquer with ease. She was top of her class in runelore, so what could possibly go wrong? A spot at the academy was as good as hers.

  “Dismissed!” shouted Captain Augustin. “Go run through your spells. I want to see each one of you standing here bright and eager on the first day of classes.”

  6

  Whenever Weysh stepped out of the city crush into the haven of Sir Lamontanya—commonly known as the dragon district—he felt he could breathe a little easier. Here the buildings didn’t crowd so close, there weren’t as many people, and the streets were wide enough that he could walk them in dragon form if he wanted, as many others did. The streets ringed a lush mountain, and the green rolling sight of it never grew old. The landscape of Sir Lamontanya defied traditional Creshen architecture. While the townhouses and shops of the rest of the city mimicked the pointed spires of the castle, the rooftops of Sir Lamontanya stayed resolutely flat, and many hosted gardens or even shops of their own.

  Once Weysh graduated and took his post in the army, he’d be able to afford a very nice suite here until he ranked up enough to buy a manse. For now, his noisy townhouse on Lor Street was the best he could do on his salary as a delivery and ferry dragon, what with paying for tuition, and Weysh wasn’t about to ask Montpierre for a single duvvy. But would his Given be happy there? Surely she would. He recalled his time on the Sunrise Isles as a child, when he would stay with his grandfather. Though he had incredibly fond memories of his time there, compared to the modern structures of Imperium Centre he’d always found the island accommodations to be quaint. Beautiful, but quaint. Besides, they’d only have to live on Lor Street for a year or so.

  Weysh walked with a bounce in his step, literally—the streets were made of a soft, springy mixture that was much easier on dragon claws than cobblestone. A deep-blue dragonling scrambled out from the intersection ahead and halted in front of him. Though the little one was only up to Weysh’s knees, he spread his wings, roared a squeaky little roar and bared his teeth in a display of dominance. A bigger dragon with the same coloring, his father, presumably, based on their similar scents, lumbered around the corner and nudged his son wearily aside, bowing apologetically to Weysh.

  “Think nothing of it,” said Weysh, chuckling. He had been the same when he was young; worse because he had no dragon parents. He watched the father and son continue on. In a few years his Given would bear him a little one of his own, and he could pass on everything he’d learned; teach him how to be a dragon. By the Kindly Watcher, his dragonling would suffer none of the slings he’d had to while growing up.

  But first, ludicrous as it was, it seemed he had to win his Given over. As much as he’d like to delude himself, Weysh knew he hadn’t imagined the sour fear wafting off her at Northfall River. He needed to apologize and make good for his ill-conceived plan, and to that end, he’d decided to pay a trip to Darwish & Darwish Outfitters, known throughout Cresh as the finest purveyors of dragon-riding fashion. As they’d headed back to the academy, he’d caught another scent from her right before she’d begun to slip: a bright, citrusy whiff of excitement, and he clung to the fragrant memory of it, using it to fuel his determination.

  The bells above the shop door jingled as he entered.

  “Wealth and favor!” the shop clerks shouted. A man in a waistcoat with his dark hair slicked back detached himself from a table of suede gloves. “How can I be of assistance?”

  Weysh had the man fetch him a pair of goggles, two pairs of riding pants with the inner thighs and buttocks reinforced (which he suspected his Given would fill out quite nicely), a flying cap, a fin
e pair of tall black boots, and a pair of the aforementioned gloves, expertly keeping his dismay off his face at the total. When it was all stuffed into his messenger bag, he switched and took to the air.

  Once above the city he breathed deeply, sifting through the air for that scent at once new and natural. No one had ever commanded his senses like her, as if she were a beacon on a foggy night. He felt he could sniff her out anywhere, and true to form, within minutes, the barest thread of her drifted teasingly under his nose. He turned sharply, just missing the edge of a decorative balustrade on a shop balcony, and dove after the scent.

  He let his nose guide him, shifting on the wind as the fragrance of her strengthened. At last he spied her near the guest housing. She was hidden beneath the swaying tendrils of one of the white willows lining the path to the buildings. As he pulled in she jumped up from her sitting position, accosting him with an acrid plume of anger and panic. He landed on the smooth stone of the path and switched.

  “Stay back,” she said, and pointed her spear at him. A pot and brush laid abandoned on the grass beside her and the white markings were back on her skin. Weysh noticed a small group of students who’d stopped on the path a few feet away. Byen above, just what he needed: an audience.

  He cleared his throat. “I came to apologize,” he said, holding up his hands like he was trying to coax a skittish mare. “I shouldn’t—I shouldn’t have . . .” The stink of fear coming off her was distracting and maddening. He threw up his hands. “Byen, woman! Do you really think so little of me? That I could harm so much as your baby toe?”

  Confusion crossed her face.

  “You’re my Given,” he said firmly. She opened her mouth, no doubt to object, but he rushed on. “I brought you something.” He pulled out the goggles and held them up. She frowned at them as they dangled from his hand.

  “What is that?”

  He patted his bag. “Riding gear, so we can go for longer flights. These goggles will protect your eyes.”