As You Wish (Book Lover 2)

by Sam Hall

  “Yeah, Vella gave me her notes and they’re going to show me which parts of the textbook have been covered.”

  He sniffed at that. “Yes, well, I expect you to be up to date by the end of the week. Paper topics will be issued soon, so you’ll need to be.”

  My heart sank. I wasn’t a ‘study like mad after drinking a case of Red Bull’ girl. I always kept on top of my readings, chipped away at assignments as soon as they were issued and made sure everything was completed well before the deadline, and every class was going to be just like this, I realised. How in God’s name was I going to get it all done and pass?

  “Of course, Professor Rend. I’ll be spending all my spare time catching up on what I’ve missed,” I said, swallowing down the sudden spike of hysteria I felt stabbing into my chest. He didn’t get to reply. A buzzing sound, kind of like a really big blowfly, came from up the hall, getting louder and louder until my dragon came flying through the doorway in a form that would have been about the length of my forearm.

  The professor let out a little yip, arms flailing wildly around. “Whatever are you doing?” M said, his voice a lot squeakier as he came to settle on my shoulder, his tail wrapping around my neck. Well, that got everyone talking. The professor was in the shitty position of having all the class’s attention on him and my dragon, for all the wrong reasons. He smoothed his clothes unnecessarily and pushed his glasses further up his nose before saying, “That will be all, Tess. I’ve delayed beginning the class for long enough.” As I took my seat, all eyes were on me, or rather Miazydar, sitting on my shoulder.

  “Now, class...” Rend said, waiting for everyone’s attention. He continued to wait but nope, everyone was still staring, even Vella, whose eyes had gone wide. “Class?” Still nothing. I was looking, ready to learn, really, really ready to learn, but people had even turned right around in their seats to take a look. “Class!”

  Apparently that was enough to get people’s attention. As if waking from a dream, everyone faced the front and focussed. Rend looked both flustered and relieved to have order back. “If you remember last time, we covered the use of dragons in the former Brigintinian Empire and how this was the precursor to our current system. Obviously, they were utilised in quite a different way, giants being no dragon riders. Now, who can tell me what they were predominantly used for?” A sea of hands shot up, though Vella’s notably didn’t. “Yes, Mishie?”

  “They were used as both a messenger service and to cart freight around the vast empire.”

  “Correct! Without the use of dragons, it would have been incredibly difficult to maintain connections between the far-flung centres of trade and—.”

  “Well, that’s not true.”

  Miazydar had slipped from my shoulder, increasing his size until he was about the same as his dog form, so his voice came out clear and deep when he interrupted. Sure enough, everyone’s eyes were back on us. “I’m sorry?” the professor said with a frown, sounding anything but.

  “Shut up, shut up!” I hissed.

  “Where are you getting your information from? Dragons weren’t aerial cart horses for anyone.” I glared at the M, hoping that somehow via Vulcan mind-meld I might be able to get my dragon to stop derailing the class.

  “Information? Why only straight from the walls of the ziggurat at Pelasia.” Rend clicked a button on the wall and a light appeared on the screen at the front of the classroom. He navigated past a dizzying array of images before settling on a bas relief, carved on an ancient building. Several stylised looking human figures stood holding out what appeared to be packages to much smaller dragons who swept down, talons outstretched. For a second, the professor looked like he was in his element, his finger tracing the flight path as he explained his interpretation of the image. When he was finished his smile was smug as he waited for Miazydar’s retort.

  Shut up, M, I said. You may be right, he’s probably wrong, but we’re not getting out of here by publicly humiliating a teacher.

  “This is a depiction of the giants making offerings to the dragons. This is a depiction of veneration, not slavery,” my dragon said.

  “Fuck. My. Life,” I mumbled to myself, punctuating each word with a smack to my forehead. I’d studied history and anthropology, I knew that current cultural bias when examining historical artefacts was a thing, I just didn’t feel the need to ram that down the throat of the guy who was going to mark my paper.

  “Your dragon...” Vella struggled to put into words all she was thinking. Of course, she did. Hers was sitting outside, obediently whiling away his hours on top of his eyrie, dropping down to feed when needed. He didn’t change size or form, he definitely wouldn’t have come to class to argue about the content.

  Miazydar, I need you to sit down and shut up. No response. Miazydar, now. I need to learn whatever interpretation of history this guy is selling and be able to write a paper on it. It’s what I have to do to get us home. M? He ignored me, continuing to debate the issue.

  “And what qualifies you to contradict the teachings of Aravisian academics?” The professor’s challenge rang out across the classroom

  “I was there.” Gone was the arrogant tone M had been using before. Instead, the bristle went from his spine, his eyes dropping to the floor as if considering what he’d just said. Rend didn’t. His smile went wide, his teeth glimmering in the bright artificial light.

  “You assert you’re a Rozenrrath dragon, a family that was put to the sword over 300 years ago, and you were also alive to see the Brigintinian giants, whose empire fell over 2000 years ago? A dragon’s lifespan is several hundred years, if pampered, which certainly wouldn’t have happened under the giant’s rule. You have invalidated your own ridiculous arguments, now begone from my classroom. I’ll not have the education of hard-working students compromised by what appears to be little more than a spoiled pet. Ms McKinnon, remove your animal, or remove yourself with him.”

  “But Professor...” Scalla said, raising a hand.

  “Sit down, Ms Andus.”

  I managed to get Miazydar to return to his eyrie with a combination of pleading and threatening. He was quite agitated, his yellow eyes reeling as he tried to explain his point about the carving, talking me through each part of it and telling me what he thought it represented. It took me dropping down to his level, wrapping my arms around him and saying, “You may be right, but this guy is a gatekeeper. We will not be allowed to keep our portal in Damorica, nor fly about the continent, without a passing paper marked by him. He’s telling me what he wants to see in it, I need to give it to him, even if you think he’s wrong.” I could feel M’s claws flex and curl on empty air, his body thrumming with tension. “Go back to the cottage, have something to eat, keep the guys safe and I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”

  “I’m not a dumb animal!”

  “I know, that’s the problem, but I, we, have to do this, OK? I’ll see if they’ll let you come to my other classes, but you need to keep your mouth shut.”

  “But —.”

  “Seriously M, it’s the only way.”

  Rend barely acknowledged me as I took my seat, the lights in the classroom dimmed now that he was working his way through his slides. I picked up my pen and took notes on whatever I could, having no framework for what was useful and what wasn’t.

  He looked my way a few times as if daring me to interject. Nope, that was my dumb arse dragon, not me. I was too busy trying to work out who the hell Thothen II was and why his reign was significant. I noticed a few people around me taking the same amount of notes, but I just scribbled on, glad when class finally finished and my aching hand could rest.

  “Did any of that make sense to you?” Vella asked, looking concerned.

  “It would be bad to say no, right?”

  “We’ll get you up to speed,” she said with a pat to my arm. “Don’t worry.”

  “Despite this being a beginner’s class, we’ve all studied the Brigintinians as children,” Scalla said, her eyes sliding d
ownwards when Vella shifted at my side. “Sorry, I’m not trying to make you feel bad, it’s just there’s a lot of assumptions about what you already know before you take it.”

  “Looks like I need some Aravisian History for Dummies books,” I said, forcing myself to smile. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. I should check the Celestial Record.”

  “You better get to class,” Vella said. “You have Introduction to Battle Techniques. It’s on the bottom floor. Stay in the lounge area afterwards. We’ll meet there for morning tea.”

  “OK, thanks Scalla, Vella,” I said, holding up the massive pile of notes and forcing myself to smile. They were trying to help, really, it just seemed that everyone saw this as an exercise in futility.

  I found I missed Miazydar’s presence as I filed down the stairs with the rest of the student body. People whispered as I passed, stopping only when I turned around and met their eyes, the sounds picking up again as I went. I tried to smile, say hello as I did, but people just moved away, making it easy for me to pass physically, if not mentally. Then, just as my attention went back to getting to the ground floor, the shove came. For a horrible second, I teetered on the edge of the stair, the illusion that I could stop the inevitable causing my arms to flail and hands to claw at the air.

  “Fuck!” I yelped, crashing down the stairs, everything a blur until I landed face down on the ground of the foyer, my notes and books flying up in a cloud. I rolled onto my side with a groan, watching people tread all over my stuff. Just focus on oxygen getting into lungs, I told myself.

  What’s happened? Why are you focusing on your breathing? Miazydar said.

  I’m fine, I said, slowly getting to my feet, having to snatch back my hands so they didn’t get trodden on. I wasn’t fine, I had to grit my teeth, force molar against molar to keep the tears from falling. I wasn’t that hurt, I’d gone limp enough to not cause any major damage. I started snatching up my paperwork now the crowds were thinning and putting it into a messy pile.

  “You’re going to be late,” a girl said as she passed. “Punctuality and attendance are part of your final grade.” Her friends snickered as they went.

  “Of course they are,” I said as I staggered towards the nearest classroom. No point in retaliating or finding out who tried to free the way to Miazydar’s side that bit quicker, they were hardly likely to fess up and if they did, what could I do about it? I needed to pass Battle Techniques, get a coffee, then unleash a can of whoop-ass.

  13

  “Is this Introduction to Battle Techniques?” I walked up to the tutor who was handing out padded armour to a line of students. He turned to look at me, his smile disappearing when he saw me. I took in the bright green eyes and angular features with a rush of gratitude. Merlin hadn’t just left me to my fate, he was here and suddenly I knew everything would be OK.

  “What’s happened here?” he said. I winced as those long slender fingers touched my cheekbone and chin.

  “God, Merlin, this has been bloody hell. You said to answer the call to action, but I don’t think this is what you meant. The dragon riders came into the shop. They shouldn’t be able to do that, right? I thought it was strictly a one way opening from our realm to the Damorica? And there're spiders like the size of dinner plates and just everywhere in the place they gave us to stay. Like, what kind of insect population do they have to warrant such big arse spiders? And things are weird with Flea, that was your fault by the way. I was finally feeling OK about getting everything out on the table and then, well, y’know what happened, you saw us naked but... Look, I get you had this ‘find your bliss and all will be well’ thing, but I’m not sure how blissful I can be at some kind of really shitty re-run of university, complete with Mean Girls x Hunger Games-style bitch antics. People harming me tends to stem the flow of my intellectual juices.”

  “Sorry, love,” Merlin said, with a shake of his head. “I’m flattered you think me a mighty magician but the name’s Keel. I’m a Lieutenant in the Aravisian Dragon Crops and I teach the grounders how to fight and the only bliss I help cute girls find is when they have a lot less clothes on. So, are you OK, Miss...?”

  This was the socially determined moment where I replied with my name, apologised for mistaking him for his identical fucking twin and did my best to ignore the torrent of verbal diarrhoea I had just unleashed in the hope that this complete bloody stranger would follow my lead. Instead, I stood there and stared as he continued to check my face and head for injuries. Everything was not OK, I was right back to situation normal: all fucked up.

  “Tess.”

  “Well, Tess, I think you’ll be alright. Your pupils look the same size and there’s nothing broken. Any other pain?”

  Oh, there was a whole lot of pain, but it was nothing that couldn’t be solved with a flamethrower, some of that lovely, obedient, green baelfire from the prince’s manor and an industrial-sized can of fly spray. Instead, I looked across the classroom at the array of students getting ready to learn to fight. Any of them could’ve been the one who shoved me. “What are you fighting with?” I said.

  “What? Swords are the main weapon as few here are going to be fighting dragon back. Gotta get the grunts up to snuff for the frontline stuff.”

  “So what do I need to do to pass this course?”

  “Pass? You beat me in a sword fight, I’m happy to sign off on your passing Introduction to Battle Techniques.”

  “Right then,” I said, snatching up a set of heavy reinforced cloth armour. I strapped it on, then tested my range of motion. It was a little like wearing a sumo suit, though I was pleased to see they’d left the joints lightly armoured to allow for good movement. I picked up a wooden sword and a shield. “So, you ready?”

  “You sure you’re alright, girl?” Keel said with a frown. It was weird, really, really weird how much he looked like Merlin. That was OK, I was fine with smacking down a bit of weird right about now. I gave the sword a few experimental swipes, feeling for the balance. I was bloody lucky this Merlin-look alike was the tutor. If he was like some of the man mountains standing around the edges of the classroom looking at me with little smirks on their faces, I was likely to get ground into the dirt with just one blow. I looked Keel over as he put his armour on. While I was sure he was stronger than me, he had that kind of sinewy frame that packed a serious punch, at least his blows wouldn’t have over 100kg of momentum behind them.

  “So what are we using? A point system? To ‘first blood’?” I said.

  He grinned, that smile shockingly bright against his olive skin. His smile widened when he noted my eyes dropping to it. “How about you put me on my arse and I’ll sign you off.”

  I nodded and pulled my mask on, pleased when he did the same. He became something else when in the gear, a catalogue of strengths and weaknesses, nothing more than a very mobile fighting dummy. I lifted my sword and shield.

  I fell into the familiar stance with some gratitude. I’d been training with a medieval combat club all through university, but couldn’t bring myself to start up again once we got back. It felt good to hold a weapon in my hand. That was the thing about fight clubs, I might need to walk away from people pushing me downstairs, but once you picked up the sword you were given a legitimate excuse to attack someone, and right now, that’s what I needed. I struck a couple of quick blows that Keel easily blocked. He was fast, his weapon moving to intercept mine as soon as my arm moved, but he seemed happy to let me lead the exchange. I shuffled around a bit, trying different angles and combinations of strikes, but I wasn’t going to get past him this way.

  Duelling is often really boring for people to watch. Rather than the crazy of an actual battlefield, its two people, well-prepared, striking and blocking over and over. Y’know that ching, ching, ching you always see in sword fights in movies. It gets boring for the viewer, hence why in films they have to add acrobatic sequences, or swordsman clambering athletically over terrain to keep you engaged. But in real duels, if there’s a reasonably equal d
istribution of skills and muscle, you’re trying to force a mistake and then recognise it's going to happen quick enough to push your advantage.

  We circled each other; me making little flurries of rapid strikes. I wanted his eyes on my sword, not me, focussing on what it was doing. I waited until his gaze was firmly on my blade for several seconds and then I feinted, looking like my weapon was about to swipe down at his face, his instantly moved to stop me, yet as he did, I shifted my strike with a roll of my wrist, my blade making a dull scraping sound as wood rubbed against wood before hitting his shoulder. My sword moved like lightning, pushing the advantage of surprise with a rain of blows. His shield came up too late as his sword arm struggled to stop my blow. I felt a thrill of satisfaction as I forced him back, swiping at his legs when he stumbled. His arms windmilled as he struggled to stay on his feet, his sword and shield thrown wide. I was on him, sword point at his neck the moment he landed on the floor. He sat there for a moment, blinking after he’d pulled off the mask, then he burst out laughing, taking the hand I offered to help him up.

  My heart thundered in my ears, but I felt it for the first time in ages. My grin when it came was not due to social obligation, I was genuinely pleased. Rationally I knew the dragon rider was probably taking it easy on me, not expecting much of the Intro students, but putting him on his arse made me bloody happy. I was capable; I was strong.

  “Someone with talent! I forgot what that felt like. Well done! Well, you did it, you beat me fair and square. I hope the rest of you were watching closely because you’ll need to do the same if you are to have any chance of serving in the infantry,” he said to the ring of students who had watched our bout.

  “So I’ve passed this class? You don’t need me to keep coming?” My heart swelled that finally, finally all those hours ‘playing at being knights’ as Mum had put it had proven useful for more than just a good cardio workout. I could spend this hour catching up on notes, getting my papers written…