Given Page 8

  “Yenni . . . Ajana Femmy. Kayirba.”

  The man butchered her name, but who else could he mean? She stood and followed him through a door at the front of the room to the left of the podium. Inside was a little office taken up almost entirely by a large, dark desk, behind which sat the administrator of the test. She was surprised to see Captain Augustin standing by one of those colored-glass windows. He turned from it and ran a hand over his short hair while nodding at her. “Please have a seat,” he said, gesturing to a cushioned bench in front of the desk.

  The magical instructor—Professor Mainard, as he’d introduced himself at the start of the test—scowled at her. “I will be blunt. It’s as if you know nothing of magical principles whatsoever.”

  Her cheeks stung with a sudden flush. “I am accomplished at runelore,” she said. “If you will give me the chance to show you—”

  “Runelore? That primitive rubbish? Here there are theories, laws, principles! Have you studied any of this on the, ah,”—he waved a hand as he read from a sheet of paper—“Moonrise Isles?” His bushy, gray eyebrows rose and he scoffed.

  Yenni frowned, not accustomed to being addressed in such a way. Didn’t this man know that she was—no, of course he didn’t.

  “Yes, I am from the Moonrise Isles. We do things differently there.” She glared at him, and he matched her with a simmering glower of his own.

  “We’re offering you a spot at the academy,” Captain Augustin cut in, interrupting their staring contest, “on the strength of your battle aptitude test.” He smiled slightly. “That was, well, full marks there. Combined with what little you could achieve on the magical exam, it’s enough to get in.”

  “Just barely,” Professor Mainard spat. “You have taken, quite literally, the last open spot. We’ll have fewer true-or-false questions on next year’s exam, you mark my words,” he grumbled. “You’ll be expected to pass all four sets of yearly exams, both battle and magical, like any other student, or, believe me, we won’t hesitate to cut you loose.”

  Yenni burst into a smile and stood. “Thank you very much,” she said to Captain Augustin. “I’m very grateful!”

  The captain handed her a sheet of rolled paper. “Take this to admissions to sort out your student identification. They’ll also be able to help you with housing. Oh, and they can set you up with a tutor.” His eyes shifted to Professor Mainard and back before he whispered, “You wouldn’t be the first talented fighter to struggle with magic, en? But it would be a shame to lose you.”

  She took the paper, her smile now brittle. “I see,” she said as she put it in her satchel. “Well, thank you for your advice and your advocacy, Captain Augustin. I will do as you suggest.”

  “Splendid!” he said, and clapped her hard on the back, making her stumble. What a curious habit, she thought, but at the moment she didn’t care. As she made her way through the echoing lecture theater and out to the cool morning air, her heart swelled until it was all she could do to keep from jumping up and down. She was in!

  But moments later her excitement waned. See a tutor? Back home it was she who tutored her younger cousins. Yet, in the end, this was just why she’d come, was it not? To learn something new? What was newer than pulling ach’e through words and theories? She sighed and took out her map, then took off for the building marked Student Services.

  This time the student services building was much less crowded, and Yenni simply made her way to the long counter at the back of the room. She ran a finger along the edge of the wood, tracing the leaves etched there. Students sat on long, cushioned benches that ringed the room, reading or talking, and tall shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, full of books. There was a little silver bell perched on the smooth wooden countertop. Yenni picked it up and gave it a ring, high and tinkling.

  A silver-haired Creshen woman rushed out from a door behind the counter. “Hello-oh!” She brought a spotted hand to her bosom. “And what can I do for you today?”

  After over an hour discussing her options, and her runes, with the woman, Yenni paid her fees and received her identification chit—a flat oval slab the size of her palm carved with the school’s crest of a river running beside a castle.

  “Only students and staff can make the river flow,” the woman said, and recited something. The water etched at the bottom of the crest seemed to shiver and undulate before her eyes.

  “Oh!”

  “You try,” said the woman.

  “Oh yes, I will, later,” Yenni said, and shoved the chit into her shoulder bag.

  They also sorted out her schedule. The woman said the average student took eight classes a year, so Yenni signed up for ten. Among them were Foundations of Magical Theory, Defensive Strategies for Dragon Combat, An Introduction to Dragon Psychology, Dragons in Religion and History, and Basics of Runelore. But the classes she really wanted, the ones pertaining to healing, she was not yet allowed to access. She had to pass something called prerequisites before she could be admitted to those. So she pushed down her frustration and took the classes available to her. She was here, a student of the academy—by the Sha she would find a way to heal her father, one way or another.

  The woman left and returned with several sheets of paper. “You’ve got some shopping to do, young lady. These are the texts required for each course and”—she looked Yenni up and down—“you’ll need a uniform as well. You can find everything at the academy shop. It’s just on the west side of the campus.” She shuffled and arranged the papers. “Interested in dragons, I take it?” she said, then leaned in, scratching at her spotted nose. “You know, my cousin’s wife is dragonkind.”

  “Uh, yes. There are no dragons where I am from, so I am very curious about them.” That was an understatement. Clearly, Yenni knew nothing about dragons, and she would need all the information she could get to deal with the one who now stalked her.

  “There is one more thing,” Yenni began, a warm flush of embarrassment creeping up the back of her neck. “I’ve been advised to seek a tutor.”

  “A tutor you say? And you’re interested in dragonkind? Hmmm,” she frowned, lost in thought. “I believe . . . yes. I think I know someone who would be a good fit.” She scribbled something down and put it into a letter box behind her. “Be back here at around four strikes of the bell tower. I’ll introduce you to someone who can help you.”

  Yenni went off to purchase her class materials and secure her lodging, and when the bell tower struck four times she was already back at student services. She took a seat on one of the cushioned benches, wondering just who this tutor who knew so much about dragons could be.

  “Hello?”

  It was a feminine voice. Yenni looked up and found a young woman with dark hair standing over her.

  “I heard you’re looking for a tutor?”

  Yenni stood. “Yes, that’s right.”

  “A pleasure to meet you. My name is Carmenna.”

  She held up a hand and Yenni touched palms with her. “I am happy to meet you, Carmenna. My name is Yenni Ajani.”

  “And what can I help you with, Yenni . . .”

  “Ajani. Yenni Ajani.” She eased back on her seat and patted the spot beside her. Carmenna followed her lead. Yenni noticed her eyes were a little red, tired.

  “I need help learning Creshen magic.”

  “Oh? I was told you were interested in, erm, dragonkind.”

  Yenni made a face. “I am not so much interested in dragonkind as in deterring one dragon in particular. He has told me I am given to him, or some such nonsense.”

  Carmenna’s face went slack with shock. “Oh Watcher above, you can’t be serious.”

  “Yes! Have you ever heard of anything so brazen?”

  “What’s—” Carmenna swallowed. “What’s his name?”

  “Washi? Ah no. It is Weh-sheh.”

  “You—you don’t by chance mean Weys
h do you?”

  “Yes, that is what I said. Weh-sheh.”

  Carmenna seemed to deflate before her eyes, like a flag that had lost the wind. “So he left me for you,” she said, and Yenni was not at all fond of the assessing way Carmenna’s gaze flitted over her. “And you don’t even want him.” She turned away and laughed bitterly. “Oh, Weysh, you buffoon.”

  Sudden understanding lit up the crevices of Yenni’s mind. This woman must be the lover, or former lover, of the dragon. It seemed that tricky Father Esh was hard at work.

  “Carmenna,” Yenni said firmly. “It seems to me that we both want the same thing, which is for the dragon Weh-sheh to leave me be. Help me learn about Creshen magic and I will drive him back in your direction, though I must say I think you can do much better.”

  Carmenna gave her a hopeless look. “You clearly don’t know much about being Given, and even less about Weysh. When he wants something he puts his everything into achieving it. He’s incredibly hard working and resilient. It’s one of the things I love—loved—most about him.”

  “I am not something, I am someone,” said Yenni. “And I am much the same. I will set everything right. You will see.”

  Carmenna bit her lip. “I highly doubt this will work, but if you’re willing to try—”

  Yenni sighed. She was not one to put things off for long. Now that she had secured her place at the academy, and would be here for the next year, it was time to deal with the dragon once and for all.

  “Where can I find him?” she asked Carmenna.

  “He likely just finished a class,” Carmenna said, her voice firmer. “It’s a new year, so I’m not sure of his schedule anymore, but there’s a solid chance he’s at the Rearwood. I think now is about the time he meets up with his tracking group.”

  “The Rearwood? And where is that?”

  Carmenna held out a hand. “Your map,” she said wearily. Yenni handed it to her and Carmenna reached into the folds of her long skirt, pulling out another of those gray writing sticks.

  “Here,” she said, and drew an X at the cluster of trees to the north. “Dragons often go there to practice tracking each other by scent through the forest.”

  “I see,” said Yenni, retrieving her map. “Then I will go speak with him now. Once I have convinced him to see reason will you consent to tutor me?”

  “Yes?” said Carmenna uncertainly.

  “Good. My first day of classes is tomorrow. Let us meet back here the day after that. Until then, Carmenna.”

  Yenni stood, resolute. The prospect of going back to the counter and explaining why she needed a new tutor made her head ache, so once and for all she must deal with Weysh.

  Student services was at the north end of the academy grounds, and it took her only a quarter of an hour to reach the Rearwood. Just as Carmenna had said, a few dragons arced back and forth over the trees like giant birds of prey: about three green ones, a rusty red one, and, yes, the violet-black dragon Weysh. Yenni stood for a moment, mesmerized by the grace of them weaving in and around each other, the sunlight flickering off their scales. Such creatures—people—had truly once existed on the Islands?

  Suddenly Weysh swiveled in the air, as if jerked by an invisible string, and came zooming toward her. The other dragons continued to circle, but craned their necks in Weysh’s direction. He landed lightly, pulled back his wings, and curved his long neck toward her, clicking softly. To her surprise, Yenni felt no fear. In fact, she had the strangest urge to reach out and stroke the scales of his face. Instead, she balled her fists at her side and cleared her throat.

  “Weh-sheh, I have come to speak with you.”

  The dragon bent his knees and sat, curling his long tail to his side. He turned one eye on her and regarded her expectantly, with all the assured confidence of every prince she’d ever met.

  “I am here to study, and I have no time for you and your distractions. I am not your Given and never will be, is that clear?”

  Yenni held his gaze, steeling herself against his response.

  8

  Weysh drew deeply of her scent, savoring it. Not a hint of fear. He caught the sharp, steely tang of determination, but to his delight that sour fear was missing. He touched his nose gently to her shoulder. She let it rest there for the barest moment before stumbling back.

  “Are you listening, Dragon?”

  He let out a soft, clipped screech. Yes.

  She looked confused. “Is that a yes? Change into a man.”

  Weysh hesitated. She was so much more receptive to him in dragon.

  “Change,” she said again. “I don’t have time to waste.”

  Resigned, Weysh reached within for that inexplicable trigger, right at the core of his chest, and switched forms. The world became dull, except for Yenni, who seemed to rise up toward him. Her skin was painted all over with white Island runes. Rumor was that the Moonrise Islanders used the blood of small animals, even infants, some said, to make their runepaint. But that couldn’t be true. He wouldn’t believe it of his Given.

  “You’re used to telling people what to do, en?” he said.

  She ignored his comment. “Did you hear what I said? We cannot be together, and I expect you to leave me to my peace.”

  The first flickering embers of anger stirred within Weysh. “One, that’s exactly what I’ve been doing—you came and disturbed my tracking practice. Two, that’s not for you to decide. Our union is the will of Byen.”

  “Who?”

  “Byen. The Kindly Watcher. Ruler of the worldly domain.”

  Yenni waved a hand at him. “I do not bend to the will of your Creshen gods.”

  A flush crept up the back of Weysh’s scalp and he took a deep breath, focusing on a pigeon’s low cooing in the tree above. “I’m beginning to question what he’s up to as well. Nevertheless, you have no choice. Neither of us does.”

  “Lunacy. There is always a choice. I choose to complete my year here and return to my tribe.”

  “Like hell you will,” Weysh growled. “We’ll be married and you’ll stay here with me in Imperium Centre.”

  She gave him a shocked laugh. “And do what?”

  “Run the household. Raise our dragonling. Women’s duties.”

  Her mouth fell open, and she slowly pulled it closed, put one hand on her hip, and tilted her head up to him, glaring into his eyes. “No,” she said, pursing her plush lips. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to kiss her or shake her, never mind that he could do neither.

  “Enough, Yenni Ajani!” Weysh barked. Her large eyes went even larger. “You are my Given, and you will do as I say. We are—”

  Something wet slapped the side of his face, dripping onto his lower lip. He blinked. Looked up. A pigeon sat on a branch directly above him.

  “Ah!” he screamed and wiped frantically at his mouth. “Aaaaaahh!”

  Yenni burst out laughing and doubled over. “Oh!” she gasped. “Oh Father Esh, you trickster. Thank you!” She stumbled away with tears in her eyes, holding her stomach and chuckling.

  Weysh spat on the grass. His Given was still laughing and struggling to breathe. Weysh teetered on the brink of letting out a bellowing roar of rage and bursting into his own bout of raucous chuckles. As he took in his Given almost crying in mirth, the utter random ridiculousness of the situation hit him and the laughter won out.

  “Well played, brother pigeon,” he said between chuckles. He scrubbed his face with his shirt, and noticed her eying him cautiously. “It seems your gods have spoken,” he said.

  She nodded, wary, but he smelled no fear from her. “Look, lovely—”

  “My name is Yenni Ajani.”

  “Yenni Ajani. I’m not a bad person. All I want is to know more about you.”

  She stayed silent.

  “How were the admissions tests?”

  “I passed,”
she said slowly.

  “Congratulations!” And praises to Byen. That meant she would be sticking around. “Will you focus on battle or magic?”

  “Magic. I already know much about battle.”

  “Clearly. You never did explain how you threw me out of the cave.”

  “Jabdanu wrestling.”

  “En?”

  “It is a fighting technique used only by women where I’m from. We use the weight of an opponent against him.”

  Weysh shook his head. “Will wonders never cease.”

  “Weh-sheh,” she said, and the strange way she pronounced his name made him smile. “You have told me that you are not a bad person. Prove it. I want your word that you will not interfere with my ambitions here at the academy. I must learn as much as I can.”

  “I’ll do you one better,” he said. “Am I wrong to guess that while you excel at battle, you struggled with the magical test? That’s often how these things go.”

  “Creshen magic is very different from runelore,” she admitted.

  “Then allow me to be your tutor.” Brilliant. He would be giving her what she wanted while giving himself ample opportunity to change her mind.

  “Oh Father Esh, not this,” she muttered.

  “Come now, there has to be a thing or two I can teach you. If I’m still here it means I’m passing my classes, en? In fact, go ahead, ask me anything.”

  She pursed her lips, thinking. “Well, firstly, what happens to your clothes?”

  “My clothes?”

  “Yes, when you switch between human and dragon. I would think they would rip to shreds, but when you change from dragon to human, there are your clothes, intact.”

  “That’s your first burning question?” said Weysh, and then he smiled a half smile. “If you want to see me with my clothes off, lovely, just say the word.”

  “Dragon!”

  He raised his hands. “Sorry, forgive me. Basically, we wear spelled clothes that make use of the theory of otherspace.”