by Gage Lee
"You don't have to do it all on your own," the princess said. "I'm here to help you. In whatever way you need."
The way she emphasized "whatever" made Taun's cheeks warm. He was glad the fire had already turned them ruddy from the heat pouring from its throat. He wanted to tell the princess that he could use her help, that he wanted to take her up on that offer, but he couldn't say the words. His lodge would lose their minds if they found out he'd gotten in deeper with Karsi. Things were too fragile for him to risk losing their trust at this point.
"I'm all right," Taun said. "Just lost my concentration there."
"Lot on your mind?" Karsi asked with a sweet smile for him. "I can listen, if that'll help."
The princess had filled the forge with fire spirits again, and Taun eased the dragon blade saber back into its infernal maw. Though a pneuma connection to the forge sufficed to maintain heat once applied to the metal, it was far more efficient to use the forge to bring the blade's temperature up. He held the weapon steady and watched for its color to change.
"I'm not sure talking will do much," Taun said. "And I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea."
Karsi frowned, the silver scales on her forehead rippling. Her dragon sign, a pair of stubby silver wings shot through with the blue light of water pneuma, had come in a few days before and they fluttered behind her. "No one here cares if we talk, Taun."
The knight shifted his eyes away from the princess and back to the forge. "It isn't anyone here that I'm worried about. If word gets back to someone who does care, one of my friends might get hurt."
The memory of Moglan's injury flared in Taun as he spoke and lent a harder edge to his voice. He wasn't angry with the princess, but it was impossible to hide the tension that had him wound tight as a drum. He was torn in too many directions and didn't have the first clue how to balance everything, and everyone, he'd taken responsibility for. It would be far easier if Karsi just left him alone.
Even if he hated that idea.
"I'm sorry," the shaman said, her wings folding flat against her shoulders. "But I understand. If you ever feel differently, I'm ready to be your friend. Okay?"
"I know," Taun replied. "We'll see."
They spent the rest of the class working in silence, their harmony re-established, forging the blade without ever needing to say a word. By the time the class ended, the blade was nearly complete. Taun quenched it, then held it up to the light.
The weapon was elegant and sharp enough to slice the hairs off a warthog's back. It caught the light streaming in through the workshop's windows and chopped it into bars of color like a prism.
"It's beautiful," Karsi said. "I'm glad I could help with it."
"All right, class," Professor Geth called from the front of the room. "You're dismissed. Taun, I'd like to speak with you for a moment."
"Good luck," the princess said with a wink, then filed out with the rest of the students.
TAUN SURVEYED THE DRAGON blade saber while the rest of the students filed out. The soul steel held an edge like no metal he'd ever worked before, and he couldn't wait to try the weapon out. Maybe Sutari would spar with him. He'd done plenty of live steel practice in his time, and he was sure she had, too.
"That's a fine weapon," the professor said. "May I?"
"Of course," Taun said. He turned the blade and offered his instructor the tang. "I patterned it after a weapon my father gave me on my thirteenth birthday."
Professor Geth raised a scaled brow. "Where did a knight come by enough soul steel that he could gift something so precious to his youngest son?"
Though Taun's experience with the teacher told him her words weren't meant as a slight against his family, it was hard not to take offense at the implication that humans shouldn't have such pleasant things. "My weapon was merely steel," he replied, doing his best to keep his tone even. "I'd never seen soul steel until I came to the Academy. Even though my family stands between the dragon empires and threats from the wyld."
She wasn't the only one who could make uncomfortable insinuations. Taun's father oversaw a vast stretch of the border wall, but dragons left them to fend for themselves even as their troubles mounted. The dragons should have sent weapons and armor, not to mention troops, to help take the pressure off the Ruby Blade Keep. When Taun saw the Scaled Council, he intended to make them aware of their failures.
"Yes, well," Professor Geth said with a faint frown, "perhaps the Scaled Council could provide the frontier with better equipment. Or, perhaps, there is an alternative. The Celestial Academy has provided grants to the families of exemplary students in the interest of security and solidarity. Perhaps if you gifted the fruits of your late night labors to the school, they would find their way to where they are most needed."
Taun tensed as the professor placed the blade on the anvil between them. She ran a claw along the scaled pattern that covered the blade's surface, and the metal vibrated with a faint ringing. The professor smiled at Taun, but he wasn't sure if he'd read her right.
"I made this with my own materials," Taun said cautiously. "And I only worked on it after the assignments you gave us. My quota of ten horseshoes and five daggers are in the chest next to the forge if you need to check."
Professor Geth leaned back on her heels and crossed her arms over her chest. "I have no intention of taking your weapon, Taun. I know well that this is your personal project. It’s no secret that you spend a great deal of time in the workshop after classes have ended. I've respected your privacy in that matter. It's no concern of mine what you're making. But if you have any other pieces like this, their donation could earn you a hefty award of Glory. And they might help your family."
The tone in the professor's voice told Taun that she knew far more than she was letting on. For all he knew, she'd used some mystical pneuma technique to watch him while he slaved away. And if she was watching him, then she'd seen the frenzied pace of his work and its products. Since he'd made the pact with his lodge, Taun had forged several items as gifts for his friends and far more to turn into the school at the last possible second. All of that was forged from soul steel, but the dragon blade saber had used up the very last of the materials his team had gathered. Without a shaman, there was no way to make any more soul steel. Lira had been unable to find more mushrooms for the past few weeks. Without spirits to guide her, she didn't think she'd find any more.
At the moment, Taun wasn't sure how much Glory his work would earn the Broken Blades. But Professor Geth had just given him a way to find out.
"How much Glory?" he asked, trying his best to sound casual. "For this saber, I mean?"
Geth's fingers lingered over the elegant blade, following its length down to the tapered point. She tapped it there, then again near the tang. The metal sang at her touch, and Taun caught a flicker of metal pneuma passing between the professor and his weapon. "I'd be the one assessing their worth, and would judge this to be a suitable tribute for thirty Glory. Thirty-five with a proper handle and guard. Your work is very, very good. There's still room for improvement, of course, but your metalworking skill is obvious. You've adapted to using pneuma far more rapidly than I'd have ever guessed possible for a dragon, much less a human."
The young knight tried to calculate how much Glory he'd earn from the rest of the armory he'd crafted, but there were far too many variables that he didn't know how to evaluate. He weighed his experience with Professor Geth against his paranoia. With only days left in the school year, he doubted there'd be any further challenges in classes. Even if the professor betrayed his trust, and he didn't think she would, Auris would be hard pressed to catch up with so little time remaining. Taun supposed the golds could go on a dueling spree, but the students had gotten that out of their systems early on. It was too easy to lose what should have been a sure-fire duel because of bad luck, and gambling was risky at the best of times. And after word had gotten out about Auris's trick taking over as champion in a duel, no one wanted to risk a repeat of that situation.
Taun decided. "I have significantly more items that I'd consider donating," Taun said. "If I knew their Glory values."
Geth chuckled. She balanced herself on her tail and looked the knight up and down. "You've come a long way, especially for a human. There were a lot of dragons who thought you'd wash out in the first month. A lot more worried you'd wind up dead."
"Where'd you put your money?" Taun asked.
"I'll never tell," she said with a laugh. "Are all your treasures hidden in your vault?"
"Of course," Taun said.
"Then let's see what you've got squirreled away. And don't leave the saber there, it'll walk away." She smiled warmly at her student, then followed Taun out of the workshop.
It didn't take them long to reach the Broken Blades lodge, but to Taun it felt like an eternity. Every eye was on the professor and Taun as they wondered what a dragon professor was doing with a human student. He heard snickers and felt the weight of hostile stares. They probably thought he was in trouble for some imagined broken rule. The knight held his chin high, though. He didn't care what they thought. And Auris wasn't there with snide comments, so the day was as close to perfect as it could get.
When he opened the door to admit the professor into the lodge, Kam was at the common table, bent over a bowl of spicy rice dotted with pickled chili peppers and shredded chicken. "Uh-oh," the occultist said quietly. "What did we do wrong this time?"
"Nothing," Professor Geth said quietly. "At least not that I know of. Though with occultists, it's hard to say. I imagine you've broken a dozen rules since you crawled out of bed this morning."
"Unfair," Kam said with a toothy grin. He clapped his hand over his heart. "I solemnly swear I use my powers only for the most righteous of mischief."
"See that you keep them to yourself," the professor called over her shoulder as she followed Taun to his vault, "or I'll pluck your eyes out from behind those magnifying glasses you wear."
Taun wasn't entirely sure that Professor Geth was kidding about that, either. She was very skilled at the forge, but had more than once made comments that convinced Taun she was not a fan of pneuma that wasn't powering a forge or shaping metal.
"Here we are," he said, pushing open the vault's door. The room was far too large for what it held, but Taun supposed he'd grow into it. Providing he won the Glory Chase and the dragon kingdoms weren't utterly annihilated by the eldwyr swarming out of the wyld.
"You've been a busy young man," Professor Geth said. She strode across the room to the piles of armor and weapons that Taun had created. "You're donating all of these?"
Taun shook his head. "No, professor," he said. "Only the pile there on the right."
"I see." Professor Geth was clearly disappointed, but wasted no time getting to work. Strands of metal and air pneuma unspooled from her breath and snatched up a gear from the floor as she cataloged his work. "You’ve done some serious production. Ten daggers, worth ten Glory each. Four sets of chain mail, let's say thirty apiece. Thirty for this longsword. Fifty each for these two breastplates. Two Glory each for the arrowheads. How many are there?"
"Fifty," Taun said. His head spun with the sums that Geth was spitting out.
"Very good," Professor Geth ticked items off on her fingers in silence. "These all assay as good quality soul steel, or they'd be worth far less. So, for the lot, you'd earn four hundred and fifty Glory. And, if things have not changed from this morning's rankings, I believe that would put you in the lead by twenty Glory. Things could still change, of course, but as of this moment, you stand to win the Glory Chase."
The wind left Taun's lungs. His knees felt weak, and he desperately gulped air and pneuma to stay on his feet. He'd done it. It had been close, but if things stayed as they were now, the Broken Blades were the Glory Chase winners. Tears of relief stung his eyes. After all, he'd been through, the young knight had made good on his promise. He'd get the help his family needed. He'd warn the Scaled Council of the dark days ahead.
He'd saved them.
He'd saved them all.
We. We saved them.
"It is true," Professor Geth said, her eyes widening. "I could almost hear the soul scale's words."
"He can be talkative," Taun said. "We're both just grateful for your help."
Geth smiled and put a hand on Taun's shoulder. He felt the warmth of her pneuma and the strength of her core. The hardened smith dragon had a comforting aura around her, despite her sometimes gruff demeanor. "I'll keep it under my hat. Don't be late with the turn-in, though. The final tally is at sundown on the day before last. Get it too me at least an hour before that, and I'll make sure your ranking gets updated."
"Thank you," Taun said. He couldn't believe his luck. He'd worried that all the dragons would look down on him for being a human, but Geth had proved him wrong. The Academy's professors were honest, and they did their best under the restrictions they faced from the nobility.
"No need," Geth said, heading for the vault's door. Taun followed her out of the lodge and down the stairs to the building's front door.
As they crossed the common area, the entire building shook. A deep, resonant rumble hammered the air, making it difficult to hear. Taun felt like his molars would shake right out of their sockets. The sharp smell of a lightning strike, acrid and scorched, filled the air.
"What is that?" Taun asked.
"Pneuma engines," Professor Geth said, hurrying for the front door. "Big ones."
The pair rushed out ahead of the students in the common area and fell under an enormous shadow. The belly of a magnificent beast passed through the sky above them, massive fins paddling the air like an oarsman bug on the surface of a still lake. A pair of bulging cylinders jutted from the rear of the beast, emitting a steady stream of air and fire pneuma.
"What manner of beast is this?" Taun said, breathlessly.
"No beast," Geth said. "It's a soaring tombship."
Taun's blood ran cold. Had the tombkin found a way out of their dead worlds to attack the Academy? "We should summon the guards."
"No, no," Geth laughed. "These are for hunting tombkin."
As she spoke, Taun saw the truth. The fins were great oars tipped with wide, sheer sails for maneuvering. The belly was the bow of a ship, dark planks riveted together and stabilized by bands of wood pneuma. The cylinders at the back must be the engines the professor had mentioned. Taun couldn’t believe mortal hands had built the thing. The massive vessel dwarfed even the dragons.
"I wonder who it belongs to," Taun mused.
"You won't like it, but look there," the professor said, pointing at the aft of the vessel.
A dragon leaned over the railing, his scales reflecting the light of the engines. He waved grandly, like a king looking down on his subjects. Taun didn't need to see his face to know who'd summoned the ship.
It belonged to Auris.
He'd found another way to steal victory from the Broken Blades.
Chapter 23
LIRA DID NOT TAKE TAUN'S news well.
At all.
"Well, that's it," she said after a few moments of silent fuming and twirling a pair of daggers with the furious speed of a trained fan dancer. "We kill him in his sleep."
Kam and Sutari exchanged nervous looks, and both laughed a little, their voices cracking with the pressure of the situation.
She makes a good point. It would not be the first time a young prince had to die for the good of his people. I overlooked your previous squeamishness, but we have run out of time for such childish behavior. Auris stands between you and warning the Scaled Council of impending doom. It is time we removed him from our path.
"We're not assassins," Taun began, then shook his head. "Look, the guy's a dangerous idiot. But there has to be another way to handle this. If he takes that ship out to hunt tombkin, how much Glory does that earn him? Fifty? A hundred?"
Sutari paced around the common room, idly stroking her chin. "It depends," she said. "The Glory is based on how many to
mbkin talismans they bring back, not the mission itself."
Taun's stomach dropped at the news. He slipped into a seat at their dining table and held his head in his hands. He vividly remembered the horde of horrifying creatures that had swarmed over the tombworld plains when Emissary Reth brought him to the Celestial Academy. There had been dozens, maybe hundreds of the things. "How many soldiers will a ship that size hold?"
Sutari rocked her head from side to side as she considered the question. She ticked off her fingers as she went through some mental calculations, then shrugged. "It's hard to say. His family can afford as many mercenaries as they feel like throwing at a problem. A tombship that size would need a non-combat crew of fifty to keep it in the air, not to mention the shamans or occultists to man the power stations and keep the spirits in line. For a long haul, it wouldn't have more than two hundred soldiers aboard. For a quick hop where they wouldn't need supplies, they could double that number and still have plenty of room on board."
Taun's dreams of winning the Glory Chase had just evaporated. Even if he went to the forge, right that minute, and worked non-stop until the deadline, he couldn't add more than a hundred Glory to his team's total. Based on Professor Geth's earlier assessment, all the gifts Taun had crafted for his allies would add another two hundred Glory to their ranking. But if Auris and his allies each killed a single tombkin, they would still come out with hundreds of talismans.
In his mind's eye, he saw Auris returning to the school, huge sacks filled with tombkin talismans carried by his personal servants. The crown prince would not have earned more than a handful of his talismans. It wasn't fair that he'd claim the work of others as his own. It was like stealing valor from the true heroes on the battlefield.
Stealing...
You cannot steal from a thief.
Taun shoved back from the table. His chair toppled over behind him.
"I know how to do it," he said. "I know how to win."
LIRA RAISED A HAND, and the rest of the Broken Blades lodge froze where they stood. The scout had guided them up to the far western side of the Celestial Academy. The buildings were much taller here, and broad, blazing spheres of blue and white light illuminated the rooftops. Now she pointed up.
