Laynin looked preoccupied, but for once she was alone. Most of the time she was in the company of Refa's rider, Zannis. Travin didn't think they were more than friends, but Zannis was flighty and pushy; traits he preferred to avoid. She'd offered him her company once, but he'd politely declined, making some excuse about working. Not ten minutes later, he'd seen her disappear with someone else. It wasn't that he judged her for her preference for having many partners, but it wasn't his way.
"She's cute," Sami commented, drawing his attention to the fact he'd been staring.
He flushed. "It's not like that. She's a draakin, they're…"
"Just people?" she suggested.
"People with dragons." He sighed, thinking back to the hatching. "I doubt I'd even have anything to say to her." Nothing she'd be interested in hearing anyway. What would a bard and a draakin have in common? They both currently lived in Tsaisa, but that could change the moment he got itchy feet again and wanted to move on.
"Well you'll never know if you just sit here with me," Sami said, giving him a look which reminded him of Gallia. Thank Euru they weren't both here, or he'd be hounded all the way to Laynin's feet.
"I don't know." Laynin leaned against the bar, staring off in front of her. "She looks like she wants to be left alone."
Sami twisted around in her chair. "No, that's the I have something on my mind and would like to talk look."
"How can you tell?"
She shrugged and turned back. "A woman knows these things. Besides, if she didn't want to talk, there's seats in the corner she could have sat in."
"That's very perceptive." She was right; Laynin could have avoided being bothered had she sat there, away from everyone.
The timepiece on the wall said he had another hour before he was expected to sing. What could it hurt?
"You don't mind?" he asked. He had asked to sit there. Leaving so soon might be construed as rude.
"Of course not. Besides, I have to start work anyway." She jerked her thumb toward the bar.
He took a few moments to gather his courage, then rose and walked toward the draakin before he changed his mind and fled.
9
Laynin toyed with her ale. She'd taken a sip, then put it down on the bar and twisted it slowly this way and that. After almost spilling it, she settled for running her thumb up and down the smooth, damp glass. Every now and again she'd remember she had it and take a sip, but it was going flat and getting warm.
"Evening, draakin."
She hadn't noticed Travin approaching until he stood in front of her. He smiled, but for some inexplicable reason he looked nervous.
"Good evening. Travin, isn't it?"
He looked pleased she remembered his name. "Yes it is."
She started to offer her hand, but instead bumped her tankard. Ale spilled all over the section of bar.
"I'm sorry, I—"
"Here, let me get that." He smiled and reached over to grab a cleaning cloth. "I'll give it back," he said to the young woman behind the bar. Laynin vaguely recalled seeing them sitting together when she'd entered. A handsome man would have an attachment of some kind.
He wiped the bar while she held her glass up out of the way.
"There, that's better. Sami, catch." He tossed the cloth to the woman who caught it neatly and placed it aside before bustling off to serve another customer.
"Can I buy you a fresh drink?" he offered, eyeing her now half-empty one.
"You're not—" Laynin gestured toward Sami.
Travin grinned. "We literally just met, but no, she's into a friend of mine."
"I see." Laynin pushed her ale away. "I don't think this is what I need tonight."
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked "I'm a good listener."
She hesitated for a moment and almost declined. Perhaps a friendly ear would help. She gestured to a free table in the back corner and made her way over, sidestepping people standing about here and there. She flopped into a chair.
"You missed the bonding," she stated, trying not to sound accusing. What he did with his time was his business after all.
He looked down at the table. When he looked back up, his expression was sheepish.
"I fell asleep," he said.
"Ah." There was more to the story than that, she saw it on his face, but she didn't know him well enough to ask. No doubt he'd be forthcoming if he wanted to. Instead, he changed the subject.
"The bonding went well then?"
"Uh, yes, I suppose so. The dragonets and their draakin seemed happy enough." All the Gods, this was awkward. "I'm sorry one didn't choose you." The small talk filled the silence.
He sighed. "Yes, I was hoping." Smiling wryly, he added, "I suppose that's why they call us hopefuls."
"Yes, I suppose it is." She toyed with a knot on the tabletop with the tip of her finger.
"It's better than hopeless," he quipped.
Her head jerked up. "Just because a dragon didn't choose you this time, doesn't mean one won't. And it doesn't mean you're a bad person. It just means…" What did it mean?
"They found someone they like better?" he suggested.
"I suppose so. Or maybe just a person who is right for them at the moment. Risper said I felt right, that's why he chose me. He won't tell me any more than that. Maybe he doesn't know." She waited for the dragon to interject, but he didn't. Perhaps there was no more to say.
"Who can question the wisdom of dragons?" he said, sounding poetic.
"Not me." She smiled. "Especially the older ones. The things they've seen and done…" Her mind returned to the news from the south and her expression fell.
"You looked troubled when I saw you walk in," Travin said, "you look more so now. Are you ready to talk about it?"
Was she? She licked her lips. "I'm not sure I'm supposed to talk about this, but—" She told him about the invasion of Alvarios, while he sat with brow furrowed, lips apart.
"That's terrible," he said once she'd finished speaking.
"There's more," she said softly. She glanced about to make sure no one was listening. "I didn't want to mention this to anyone, because they all have enough to worry about, especially Ara, but I have family in Alvarios. That's where I came from. My parents, my sister. They're closer to here than they are to Thanthaltra but I'm worried about them."
"Why not go and check on them?" he suggested.
"Technically Alvarios is at war," she replied. "I don't think Ara would appreciate if Risper and I crossed the border, especially without her consent."
"What about without her knowledge?" he pressed.
"You mean just—" She stopped, eyes wide. "Just go?"
"Why not?" He shrugged. "You said yourself they're far from the troubles."
"From the ones we know about," she replied. "All the Gods, what if…" She felt sick.
Rosharias had taken the capital two months ago. Who knew what he'd accomplished since? For all she knew, her parents were dead, her sister— She couldn't bear to think about it.
He startled her by putting a hand on hers.
"If you're so worried, I really think you should go. Would Risper mind?"
Would you?
It means much to you. You will not rest until you're assured of their safety.
That's true.
She blinked at Travin who was staring at her, looking expectant. "Sorry, I was talking to Risper. I should talk out loud with other people around, I suppose."
He opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to think better of it.
"He doesn't mind," she supplied. She dreaded to think what Ara might do if she found out, but she couldn't ask permission. She was certain of one thing. She'd never be allowed to go. Their leader might even ground her and Risper for suggesting it. If she tried anyway, in spite of that, she'd be locked in a cell.
"I can come with you if you like?" he offered.
She looked at him sidelong, at first assuming he just wanted to ride on Risper's back. Most people didn't refuse the ch
ance to ride on a dragon. However, he seemed sincere.
"It might not be safe there," she said after a moment.
"I can't think of a safer place to be than on the back of a fire-breathing dragon," he declared.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "They're not invincible, you know."
"I know, but they're the closest thing I can think of." He squeezed her hand and withdrew his. "Besides, you look like you need someone with you for this. For support. I'm good at that, ask any of my friends." He spread his hands wide, to encompass the entire tavern.
In spite of having just met him, she found herself liking him. And he was right, she could use some support.
10
Laynin tossed and shifted about on her bed, her thoughts keeping her from sleeping. Every now and again, she would open her eyes to see if the sun had risen. At some point, while it was still dark, she drifted off, only to awaken at dawn.
She stretched, and rolled off her wide bed. Her toes curled as her bare feet touched the cold floor. She shivered.
A visit to the latrine and a splash of clean, frigid water on her face from a jug beside the sink woke her fully. She wiped her face dry and returned to her room to change.
She tossed her nightclothes into a hamper and glanced at the door before sitting on her bed to pull on a pair of knee-length boots. If Travin wasn't on time, she and Risper would leave without him.
Just as she finished lacing and grabbed her jacket, she heard a tentative knock on the door.
She unlocked and eased it open. Travin's face looked back at her.
"Oh good, I got the right room." He stepped back and smiled.
"I said I'd meet you in the courtyard," she replied, closing the door behind her.
"I waited there for a while, but when you didn't come, I was worried you'd left without me," he said. "But then—" He pointed toward the annex roof. "I realised you'd have also left without Risper. Assuming you don't have wings, I thought maybe you got held up. So I asked around. Oh, and I brought you this." He handed her something warm wrapped in a piece of muslin.
She opened it. The scent of warm spices rising from a sweet roll tickled her nose.
"Thank you." She took a bite and savoured the taste of dried fruit and nutmeg.
He nodded and started on his own roll.
"Are you sure about this?" she asked around mouthfuls.
"I said I'd come, didn't I?" He raised his eyebrows at her.
She shrugged with one shoulder. "You might get into trouble if you come with me. If Ara finds out, you might not be allowed to even try to bond a dragon again. She can be tough." Perhaps Laynin was being harsh. Ara was always fair, even if it didn't feel so at the time. Still, venturing into a potential war zone and endangering a dragon might be a step too far. She couldn't take Risper away, but she could make Laynin's life unpleasant.
"I want to go," Travin insisted. "You might need my help."
She waited, but he didn't elaborate. Of course, there was no way to gauge what they might find down south. For all she knew, her family would be safe and well, and her fear was for nothing.
"Besides," he said, breaking through her thoughts, "I may never be chosen by a dragon. This might be my last chance to ride on one."
She smirked at him. "If that's the only reason, really—"
He hastily held up a hand. "It's not. I admit I'm curious to know what's going on down there too. Rumours are one thing, but really knowing—"
"I suppose so." Laynin sighed. "You can come, but only because I don't have any more time to argue." Just because she hadn't seen Ara yet, didn't mean she wasn't around somewhere. Laynin wanted to be gone before she had to try to lie about her destination.
She gave Travin a sidelong look.
"Do you know how to put a saddle on a dragon?" She'd grabbed two pairs of flight-goggles from her chest of drawers. She tossed him a pair now.
His eyes widened in surprise. "No, but I would like to learn."
"Of course you would. Risper?"
I am coming.
He barely opened his wings before leaping from the roof to land beside her. For such a large creature, he could be graceful. After all their years together, she still admired him; the great wings, large head, catlike slitted eyes, claws the size of her hand. Her love for him swelled her heart until it almost hurt. She couldn't imagine feeling this way about another living being.
"I'll get it. You two get acquainted." She stepped away and glanced back over her shoulder. Risper snaked his head out close enough to snort at Travin. While some might have found that disconcerting, the bard grinned. He reached out to touch the dragon's cheek, palm pressing onto scales.
She smiled softly. Risper was difficult to resist, especially if the person wasn't afraid of him. She reminded herself they were in a hurry and trotted to the small room designated for storing saddles and straps. Rispers' hung over a stand with his name engraved in it. Although the straps didn't differ in length, the saddles were made to fit each dragon. Nehko, being the biggest, would be uncomfortable in Refa's; the female dragon being a metre smaller in length and girth.
Laynin hooked her arms under either side of the saddle and slid it off, ready to take the weight when it slipped free. The leatherworkers made them as light as they could, but given several people could sit on it to fly, they were always going to be heavy.
"I should work out more," she muttered, hefting the saddle out of the tack room to her waiting dragon.
"Let me help with that." Travin hurried over to take the saddle. She didn't miss how his muscles took the weight, straining against the short sleeves of his shirt.
"Risper, if you will."
The dragon lay down on the paved ground, wings tucked back, flattened out as much as he could.
"Now you just have to throw the saddle over and he'll stand so you can fix the girth." Although Laynin spoke lightly, the doing took some practice. When she had first tried, she'd been scared she'd hurt him, only to have the saddle slide right off the other side.
I am tough, Risper reminded her.
She smiled. You are. I wasn't.
Travin raised the saddle and hefted it over Risper. He stood on his toes, gave a jump and a shove and pushed it into place.
"Nothing to it." He turned and grinned.
"Mmhmm." While he'd been celebrating, Risper rose, almost dislodging it. Travin grabbed the saddle at the last moment and moved it back, then ducked under the dragon to grab the other side of the girth.
"Does he mind having this on?" he asked.
"No, it protects him from scared passengers wetting themselves," she said dryly.
When he scratched his head and inspected the leather for staining, she laughed.
"Don't worry, that rarely happens. The saddle is really just so we feel secure. Once you're in the sky, it feels like a long way up. And down. It's nice to have something to hang on to, especially if he does barrel rolls."
If she thought he'd be worried about those, she was mistaken. He grinned even more broadly now.
I suppose we can throw in some of those on the way back, she thought. But that would depend on what they found when they got to Alvarios.
Risper sent thoughts of pleasure and excitement back to her. He did love his aerobatics.
She stepped forward and checked the tightness of the girth. Her hand fit between the leather and the warm scales, but just enough.
She gave him a satisfied nod. "You've ridden horses?"
"A time or two," he replied.
"This is nothing like that," she commented, her expression guileless.
"Are you trying to scare me?" Was he teasing her?
"Just a warning. Now, you can get up without help, I assume?" He'd thrown down the gauntlet, now she wanted to see how far he could take it. It wouldn't hurt if anyone saw them and thought they were joking around. They might assume she was taking him away to be alone. Let them think it, it would do no one any harm.
"I think so." He grabbed the saddle, put his
foot in a stirrup and pulled himself up with a grunt. He settled into place and pulled the safety straps around him. The moment he started to grin, Risper lowered his belly to the ground, allowing her to mount much more gracefully.
"Sorry, I might have forgotten to suggest you wait a minute," she said over her shoulder.
"Draakin," he drawled, "I don't think you're sorry at all."
She responded with a laugh and pulled her goggles over her eyes. "Hang on tight."
Risper rose to a crouch, then leapt as if he bore no weight at all. As the ground fell away, Laynin’s thought was the same one that she always had—she was thankful he'd chosen her. Her stomach fell, but it was always exhilarating, in spite of just having eaten.
Behind her, Travin let out a groan, followed by a laugh. "Is it always like that?" he asked.
"Every single time," she replied, "isn't it great?"
"I'm not sure yet," he called back, "I'll let you know when my stomach goes back to the right place."
The wind carried her laugh as they soared higher.
11
Travin's heart raced harder than he could ever recall it doing. He'd seen and done a lot in his relatively short life, but nothing compared to this. He was both exhilarated and further disappointed that a dragonet hadn't chosen him. To ride a dragon daily, the dizzying heights, the feeling of the magnificent creature, wings beating to keep them airborne—the experience was so incredible he found himself blinking away tears.
The wind whipped Laynin's hair back toward him, forcing him to turn his head while he clung, arms around the draakin. She was only slightly less impressive than Risper. She'd done what only a handful of others had, she'd bonded a dragon. That alone made her special. The fact she was lovely didn't hurt, but that was a minor detail to him. Not that he stood a chance with a draakin, even one as approachable as her.
He released one hand, raised his goggles and wiped his eyes. An inadvertent glance down made him grab hold again quickly. Euru, it was a long way to the ground. He swallowed hard and pushed down rising panic. The wind whipped past, its biting fingers making him cold. He shivered.
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