The Dragel's Song IV

by Chera Carmichael

  Before he could react, a violent shudder ran through him. Neil doubled over, hugging his arms to his stomach, eyes squeezed shut at the painful sensation. “Binding spell,” he snapped out.

  “I already took it off,” Calida’s worried voice sounded from overhead. “If you’re in this much pain from just—maybe you should stop.”

  “Too late for that,” Renee said. “Breathe, little one.”

  Neil twitched, annoyed at the endearment as strips of fiery pain lanced through his back. He had no warning when his wings surged out from his body, unfurling with a harsh snap and throwing him forward with the sheer force.

  “Easy, love,” Calida soothed, sliding off the sofa to catch him.

  He trembled at her gentle touch and calm manner. Pain, pain and more pain swallowed him whole from head to toe. He buried his face in Calida’s neck, struggling to focus on the sweet scent that was clearer there.

  “Calida,” Renee said, sharply.

  Neil blinked, his vision growing hazy as he was pulled back by quick, strong hands and his cry of protest was silenced by a warm liquid smeared over his lips. He stared up in confusion at Renee’s fuzzy figure, trying to understand what delicious thing she’d just offered him.

  Trying to puzzle through it took too much energy and he gave a weak cry, before he passed out.

  Calida sat back on the sofa, rubbing her arms as if to warm them. “Well,” she said, slowly. “I did not see that coming.”

  “You’re only dense when you want to be,” Renee said, tartly. “and you know you can’t share your blood with him. Do you want the others to tear him apart?” She bent down and scooped up Neil, easily transferring him to the low table to rest on his stomach, wings draped on the ground.

  He had been successful in that his wings were indeed the right proportion for his current state and she was careful to set him down in a way that wouldn’t cause undue discomfort. He whimpered when she withdrew, drawing a sympathetic smile from the older woman.

  “He needs to be bonded.” She said, moving around him.

  “Too soon,” Calida shook her head. “Much too soon. He’s young.”

  “Our natives are younger.” Renee countered. “They’re what? Sixteen? He’s eighteen.”

  “Sixteen in dragel years is different from eighteen in humans.” Calida reminded. “I don’t think he’s ready to share himself with anyone—even if he needs it. Don’t hold it against him. If he had a mentor, they would have given him his first feeding.”

  “Seeing as he doesn’t and they haven’t, doesn’t mean that we have to.” Renee licked her wrist, tending to the hasty wound she’d bitten, to stop Neil’s instincts from taking over. “We’ve sworn a blood pact and this would affect Terius, you know it.”

  Calida sighed, sitting back. “I know, Ren, I know.” She turned away. “I just—he’s so small and so-”

  “And so alone?” Renee smiled. “He may be, darling, but that’s not your problem. We’ll do the best we can for him, but you’ve scarcely known him more than a day.” She patted the sofa. “Why don’t you take your nap and let me worry about him?”

  ~*~*~*~*~*~

  Neil woke to familiarly scented sheets and the plain walls of his dorm room. He started, faintly and something tickled his right cheek. It turned out to be a handwritten note from Calida, explaining that Dexter had brought him back to his room, because he’d been restless. Renee had cast a mild sleep spell on him, to make handling his wings a bit easier and since he was so tired, it had carried more weight than she’d expected. They hadn’t been able to wake him and Dexter had suggested that a familiar environment would help.

  Stifling a groan, Neil rolled over. He was surprised to find that there wasn’t the slightest hint of pain associated with the action, catching himself a moment too soon to stop. It was delightful to be able to lie on his back again, without any uncomfortable side effects.

  His memory was blurry though and he couldn’t remember much more than curling up on the sofa, opposite of Calida and talking about his wings. Wrestling free of the tangled covers, Neil dragged himself out of bed and wobbled to the refresher.

  The second shower for the day helped tremendously. His body felt wonderful in terms of zero soreness and relaxed limbs. Standing in front of the sink, Neil carefully brushed his fangs—having learned the hard way just how sharp they were.

  A tiny feeling niggled at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t be bothered to tease it out. He was awake and feeling more energized than he had in days. Perhaps it had been the meal. Calida was an excellent cook.

  Neil blushed at the sappy expression on his face and hastily rinsed his mouth. The Baronsworths had been polite enough, even if the only one he’d really felt comfortable with was Dexter and Calida.

  The others were nice enough, but between Bevi and Terius, Neil wasn’t sure whether it was alright to be there or not. The other half of Calida’s handwritten note had offered him the excuse of cooking lessons, if he wished to visit in the evenings after school and before work.

  That was his usual block of study time, but he’d been able to make do with fewer hours before. Learning to cook was also a particular skill he’d wanted to pick up, but couldn’t. There was nowhere to practice and the Academy was built with self-sufficiency in mind—with the exception of culinary arts. If he wanted to learn cooking, he’d have to attend a culinary school.

  The Synders never would have allowed that. They hadn’t even trusted him to make their own food at home, though they had ordered him to see to every other menial chore in existence. Neil shook the thoughts away, focusing back on the note.

  It would be a good experience, at least if that was what she really meant. He liked her cooking and it was probably a good idea to learn from a good cook. Even if Terius and Bevi were there, Neil was sure that the evening couldn’t be too terrible.

  Terius listened to Calida and Bevi listened to Ty. If that was the way it worked, then he supposed he’d be alright. He wondered, briefly, if it would matter that he didn’t know anything about cooking, then dismissed it. Calida was patient and it could be fun.

  Checking the time reflected in the corner of the ceiling, Neil brightened even more. There was still time for his favorite class, Magical Theory. If he hurried, he would probably even manage to snag his usual seat.

  Snatching up his bookbag from the tiny desk in the corner, Neil shoveled his homework notes and tablet into the main compartment. Slinging it over one shoulder, he paused to stuff his feet into his boots, before hurrying out into the main hall.

  He couldn’t recall when he’d last felt so energized, but he would certainly make the best of it. Maybe there would even be enough time to pick up his homework assignments in person and avoid too many lost points over his absences.

  ~*~*~*~*~*~

  Magical Theory was packed, as usual, but Neil had rushed and it had paid off. He was sitting in his favorite corner to the left, at the spot where the vaulted ceiling architecture conspired to amplify the professor’s voice. It meant that he could hear without straining and so he made a point to choose that spot in the benched seating, whenever he possibly could.

  This tier was also the perfect height to allow him to see the interactive board, while following along on his tablet. Setting out his notes and hanging his bag over the back of his chair, Neil settled in for a good lecture.

  Professor Aratus was a brilliant man with a passion for what he taught and how he taught it. Neil often left each class, wishing he had enough magic to perform some of the amazing things they’d studied.

  He’d informed them all on the first day of classes, that his magic was classified under planetary-range, meaning that if he wished to destroy or restore a planet, with proper preparation, he could. That detail had left Neil in awe of the soft spoken man with lessons woven into his mind-boggling stories.

  It might actually be possible now. He thought, wistfully. To try some of those spells, if my magic ever does come
back. He doodled along the margin of the screen, making an intricate scrolled design along the edge. Of all the things he’d miss after school, it would be turning in this tablet and losing the portability of having constant network access.

  “Attention, please, if everyone would take your seats—thank you,” Professor Aratus called out. He pulled up the list of students to begin roll call. As the names scrolled through the screen, each student voiced their presence.

  “Neil!” Sheryl Dansk, a fellow scholarship student, elbowed her way into a place at his side. “You missed three classes this morning—what happened?” She thumped her bag on the shared table and sat down with a loud huff. “Ugh. My feet hurt.”

  He shifted over, along with the disgruntled student who had been forced to move on her account. “Wasn’t feeling well. Nothing to worry about,” he soothed. “Roll call.”

  Sheryl rolled her eyes, but stretched up and shouted “Dansk” as her name scrolled across the screen. “That’s not what I meant, you didn’t even show up for meals. Teruh was asking about you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Good. Tell her that, so she’ll stop trying to stare me down in the hallways, eh?” Sheryl half-ducked under the desk to pull her shoes off. “I need new shoes.” She looked to Neil, hopefully.

  “I don’t have any repair tickets. Sorry.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I don’t need them, so I’ve been putting my work credits into my meal plan.” He blinked at the look she gave him. “What?”

  “Boys! Look in front.”

  Neil rolled his eyes, but dutifully returned his attention to his tablet and tapped for a new document to open. He’d save his doodles for later and start his notes afresh.

  Sheryl didn’t always speak to him, but she was a decent student most of the time. She worked nights and weekends to afford her tuition and had swapped tickets with him before for practical things like new pillows and extra socks. The image of her shoes replayed in his mind’s eye. He wondered what had happened to make the toes look as if they’d been ripped apart at the seams.

  ~*~*~*~*~*~

  “Neil!” Kendall waited for him when class let out. He stood off to the side, waving one arm above the crowd.

  “Kendall,” Neil threaded his way through the moving bodies, grabbing onto Kendall’s uniform sleeve as he passed by. “Hey.” He pulled his friend into the flow of the crowd and easily kept pace.

  “So you are alive. Where were you this morning? Yenka’s been chewing my ears off. She’s convinced you’ve come down with some unknown viral-” Kendall paused, twisting around to feel Neil’s forehead with one large, calloused hand. “You don’t feel warm.”

  Neil released his grip on the taller boy and leaned away from the sweaty hand. “What’re you doing?”

  “She said you were sick.”

  “Were, past tense,” Neil sniffed. “I’m fine now. Quit it.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I just uh,” Neil rubbed the back of his neck, scrambling for a suitable excuse. Kendall wouldn’t really push him, if he stalled long enough.

  “Uh huh,” Kendall gave him a look. “Think of a better excuse for her. It’s not like you slept in or anything.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “We stopped by your room. Twice.”

  Neil winced.

  Kendall thumped him on the back. “I feel your pain,” he hummed. “But I’m not going to be your human shield.”

  “Thanks a lot, man.” Neil grumbled. “Is that why you were stalking me?”

  “Huh? Oh yeah. I guess,” Kendall offered a sheepish smile. “That and uh, I have another exchange student-temporary sibling coming to stay for a bit, so our threesome will be a foursome.”

  Neil elbowed him sharply in the side. “Don’t say it like that.” He glowered. “Another boarding student? I thought your parents couldn’t-”

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure we can’t afford it,” Kendall said, lightly. “But it’s their call. I guess that’s why they’re shipping them off to here. They’ll be a guest student, sitting in on lectures and turning in audit assignments. The usual.”

  “Thanks for telling me, I guess.”

  Kendall chuckled, slinging an arm around Neil’s shoulders. “Hey, at least I learn something every once in a while. It’s some guy named Spencer. Mom will probably want to see you, so expect to get a message from her, if she stops by.”

  “Your dad’s busy?”

  “He’s always busy,” Kendall rolled his eyes. “You should have heard the congratulatory message I got when I called home. He was muttering about case files and energy breaches. With my luck, I’ll up just like him.” But it was said with a slight fondness and Kendall didn’t look the least bit bothered by his own prediction.

  “So the Torvak thing wasn’t an issue?”

  “Eh? No. He doesn’t care. I don’t think creature types are a big deal to him or Mom. In fact, no one really expected me to have an inheritance. Said if I ever made up my mind about wanting to join the business, it’d serve me well.”

  “Will you?”

  “Join?” Kendall shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve got time. No reason to rush.”

  “What about Yenka?”

  “Ask her when you see her. No way am I stealing her thunder.”

  “Ken-!”

  Kendall locked an arm around his neck in a friendly headlock. “You’re not gonna weasel it out of me either, so don’t try. I actually like her—and my head. You going to work today?”

  “Gotta work if I want to eat,” Neil countered. “Meal tickets don’t earn themselves you know.”

  “The basic ones do.”

  “No one can stomach those except you,” Neil wrinkled his nose. “Nasty.”

  “Hey! It tastes—fine,” Kendall faltered. “I mean, it’s nutritionally sound and there’s plenty of it, it’s just-”

  “A little bland? A little soupy? Lacking in variety?”

  “Someone work up in grumpyland today.”

  Neil groaned. “I hate you,” he said, clearly.

  Kendall laughed. “I hate you too.” He said, releasing the headlock to ruffle Neil’s messy hair.

  Neil hid a smile, absently leaning into the touch. Maybe he could tell Kendall his secret. Maybe. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Kendall had walked him to his next class—and that Derek Marsten had been forced to avoid him because of the obvious escort.

  Waving Kendall off as he left for his own class, Neil wondered whether large hands were always that warm.

  ~*~*~*~*~*~

  The dorm halls were practically empty, a detail that Neil was glad for. He trotted down the empty corridors, heading for his room. He’d grabbed dinner at the cafeteria and was now heading back to his room to change into his work uniform.

  He rounded the corner to see two figures standing outside of his door, engaged in a heated conversation. They hadn’t noticed him yet and he considered walking past, until he recognized the taller figure present.

  Benjamin Carson.

  Neil gulped. He searched and found his nugget of confidence, clearing his throat when he stood beside them and neither figure took notice.

  “Neil-!” Benjamin flushed a slight pink and stepped back, having the grace to look somewhat abashed. “I’m—sorry for that. I didn’t mean to-”

  “What’s wrong?” Neil stepped between them, keying in the coded sequence for the door to open. He recognized the second person as a Medic courier, now that he could clearly see the Healer’s coat of arms plastered on the armband.

  “Neilson Hewitt?” The Courier wrinkled his nose, looking him over from head to toe. “You expect me to leave an expensive healing draught such as this in the hands of-”

  “For the last time,” Benjamin exclaimed, exasperated. “I’m not the one taking it. My name is on there, because I’ve signed it. I asked for it to be delivered here, no questions asked.”

  The Courier
drew himself up to his full height. “It is against regulations to deliver an official dispensation from MedBay to anyone other than the individual whose legal name is printed on the authorization statement. It is an illegal-”

  Benjamin made an unhappy noise in his throat, before he reached out and snatched the tablet from the Courier’s hands. He scribbled a signature across the bottom of the tablet screen and shoved it back into the white-gloved hands. “There. Signed and done for. My medicine.”

  The Courier hesitated, but produced a white-bag from one of the many pockets in his voluminous overcoat. “The instructions on the package require you to-”

  Benjamin took the package and thrust it into Neil’s surprised hands. “He’s already taken one dose. I’m sure he knows how it works. Good evening.” He turned, nudging Neil into his room and stepping in after him. He slapped the keypad, twice, ignoring the Courier’s protests as the door slid shut.

  Neil hung his bookbag up on the wall and set the package on his nightstand. The room was small, but comfortable and he was more aware of its size now that Benjamin was inside. Elite students had access to large, luxury suites, depending on their grades and lineage. He knew Benjamin wouldn’t have set foot inside of his bedroom, if it hadn’t been for the annoying courier.

  “Thanks,” he said, after a moment. “You know, for the-ah.” He gestured at the nightstand.

  A still-glowering Benjamin softened at once. “You’re welcome, I’m sorry about that.”

  “What was wrong? Besides the whole signature deal?”

  “The signature deal,” Benjamin said, lips twitching. “Is the main problem at the moment. I paid extra for it to be specially delivered to your room at the exact same time, every day, so that you wouldn’t miss a dose.”

  Neil stared at him. That was unexpected.

  Running a hand through his hair, Benjamin tugged on the ends. “They’re insisting that I have to personally sign for it and that I can’t sign for it and then have them deliver it to you. No matter what I told him, he just kept repeating the same thing. I’ve never had an issue like this. Figures.”