by Sam Hall
Don’t I have to train with Keel for the war games display?
Yes, but is that what you’re going to do?
30
“Oh good,” Jez said when she saw me, “can you go with Flea to the village? We need some more food and washing powder and toilet paper. I think our little miffle friend has a preference for three-ply.”
“What?”
“He eats it, not uses it, though that would be super cool. You know those videos where people have trained their cats to shit in the toilet? I always like the ones when the smug bastards miss. Teaching them to crap in a loo, next they’ll be showing them how to take orders and make my lattes or something,” Jez muttered.
“A cat taking orders? Surely you see the flaw in that plan.”
“That he’d put 13 shots of hazelnut syrup in my cup and then piss in it? Yeah, I know, you still can’t trust the furry little buggers.”
“Isn’t that kinda weird, hating cats as a practising witch?” I said, gesturing to Jez’s t-shirt that had the slogan ‘Basic Witch’ on it.
“Oh, my God! Did you assume that all witches are crones with pointed hats—”
“Just do me up a list, Jez, and I’ll go get it.”
“My people have suffered under the tyranny of Christian bigots who—”
“List, Jez, list, list, list or I’m going to head back and do some more training.”
I didn’t mean to be an insensitive jerk. Growing up with a Wiccan grandmother I was well aware of all the ways powerful women had been victimised, whether because they had power or not. It was just that Jez liked to pull out this particular soapbox to shut down a conversation, grinning as she did so. She smiled at me right now and then handed over the piece of paper in question. “I knew you’d see it my way,” she said and sauntered over to the front door. “Rubbish dude had a couple of very cute, lot less smelly friends and I’m just about ready for a bit of flap bludgeoning if you know what I mean. I’m beginning to think my vag is going to grow over from lack of use.”
“The high-pitched whining from your room at night suggests otherwise,” I said.
“As much as I’m deeply in love with Mr Buzzy and his good friend Peter Rabbit, with his clit tickler and rotating pearls, nothing can go past a big, blue-veined jackhammer, let alone two, and I’m aiming to get some.”
“She’s off to find some dick?” Flea said, walking in with an armload of freshly dried washing. “Thank fuck. If I had to hear any more moaning about missing out on cock I was about to dump her in the village centre in a box with a label on it saying ‘free to good home’ and see if that helped. So are you coming? We usually need two people to carry everything.”
“Um, yeah,” I said. I don’t know about you, but there’s something about a heavily tattooed guy doing domestic work, his skimpy singlet revealing ridges of ropy muscle as he held the pile of clothes, that just gets me going. My eyes travelled down the parts of his body I could see and beyond. Maybe I needed to take a ride on Dr Feelgood myself.
What, you jump off a dragon and now you’re channelling Jez? I said to myself. My sex drive had been crazy ever since I touched the ground again, but that was no reason to treat someone I liked as a sex toy to grind a release out on. No, that’s what the other one’s for, my mind supplied helpfully. I blew out a sigh and then smiled back at Flea. “Just let me grab my helmet and flight gear and we’ll get going.”
“You’re back again, Master Flay!” the shopkeeper said as we walked in. Her round rosy cheeks shone as she smiled. “I’ll go get my Jenny. You do know how she loves to find you the choicest cuts of meat.”
The woman disappeared into the back of the shop behind a curtain that had been hung over the doorway. “Jenny, huh?” I said with a grin, looking around the packed shop. It looked like one of those old-fashioned county stores you see in Westerns, right before some bastard comes in and shoots up all the meticulously labelled glass jars full of wonders. I peered at what appeared to be a container full of lollies. It was filled with small tubes that had been made from multicoloured canes of sugar, all swirled together and then cut into pieces. “What does she get from you in return for her… meat?”
“Fuck off,” he said, snatching the list from my hand and moving through the aisles. He might paint and draw mysterious scenes of fantastic landscapes I could only dream of visiting, but he could shop like a boss. He quickly filled the big wicker basket hanging over his arm with cans and paper bags of supplies.
“And Flay?”
He glanced up from a display of hand-rolled cigarettes with a sigh. “They saw my name written down on the list and assumed that’s the way it’s pronounced and Jez thought it too funny—”
“Because it is,” I said.
“—to correct, so Master Flay I am.”
“Master Flay, back so soon! I put aside some lovely tau fillet and some creamy relex cheese like the Gerediforth one you liked so much. I’m happy to cut a sample if you’d like a taste?”
Would he like a taste? Of Jenny or the cheese, I’m sure he’d be up for either. Jenny, an innocuous name that conjured up apple-cheeked maidens, plain, but with a girlish charm. This Jenny should’ve been renamed Marilyn or Ava or Zelda. She was petite but had curves in all the right places, made all the more obvious by the loose necked peasant top she wore that threatened to slip off one creamy shoulder and reveal a whole lot more of the merchandise if she just moved slightly. This was nipped in at the waist by a small corset/cincher type thing and then a knee-length flowing skirt made up the rest of her outfit. But while her body was all woman, her face was something else again. Bright blue eyes sparkled as she noted my inspection, her dark brown hair rioted over her shoulders in a series of shining waves, her full lips curved into a smile as Flea drew near. Jenny was beautiful.
“Nah, that’s OK, Jen,” he said, placing the basket on the bench. “As long as it melts it’ll do. No one’s complained about the grilled cheese yet.” Well, Jez had, but as she hadn’t offered to cook anything else, cheese sangers it was, two nights out of four. “Just give us a quarter weight and some of the fillet as well.”
She did just that, casting an eye out the window as she worked. “Goodness, that beast of yours fairly glistens in the sunlight, doesn’t he? What a magnificent creature! It must be a fair privilege to be bonded to such an animal.”
“Yeah, it is,” I said, frowning. She hadn’t really acknowledged me since she’d come to serve us, so I couldn’t understand why she’d switched to talking to me all of a sudden. Then I saw her pause. I looked at her and then Flea, snorting when I realised what had happened. She thought she was flirting with a dragon rider.
Just like I was. I hadn’t made a decision about either guy; I was still really getting to know both of them and I’d been clear that I was playing the field. I looked over at Flea who met the serving girl’s gaze and smiled politely before pointing out the things he needed from behind the counter. This girl was gorgeous and obviously into him. Had he been sampling some of her wares on the side?
“And who are you then?” I turned around to see the shopkeeper had returned from the back, perhaps to ostensibly act as chaperone to her daughter. The look she gave me was a lot less friendly than the one she’d given ‘Master Flay’.
“I’m Tess, I’m Miazydar’s rider,” I said.
My suspicions were confirmed as I saw a myriad of micro-expressions flicker over the woman’s face. Her eyes belatedly took in my flying suit and helmet, more nails in the coffin of her ambitions. “Are you then? You with the ADC? Or up at the University like those other…people.”
“University,” I said. “We’re here for another month or two and then, if I pass all my exams and test, we go home.”
I was being a bit mean, baldly stating Flea’s use-by date, but my words didn’t affect the woman the way I hoped. She cocked her head and looked me over more closely, taking in my smooth tipped ears. “You’re that one, the one they say is going to have her dragon taken from her. They’re
going to… what was it they said? Redeploy, that’s right, they’re going to redeploy that dragon of yours.”
Everyone’s eyes went outside where Miazydar lazed on the sunny town square. My teeth clenched hard and I forced my gaze down to the multitude of cheap crap they’d arranged in neat lines in the glass case before me. “Do you think you could be a possible candidate, Master Flay?” the mother said, the hope naked in her voice.
“Ah, no, I’m human so there’s no way…”
“Oh come now! You look as normal as the rest of us!” the woman said. “Surely you’ve as much a right to try as…”
Her voice died away as the front door closed behind me. I’d walked out as fast as I could without making an outright retreat. I stood there for a moment, breathing in deeply.
Are you well, my heart? M said.
Everyone wants you, Miazydar, I replied. Of course they do. I would too if I was them, but sometimes it’s hard to be on the receiving end of all that envy and dislike, y’know?
Don’t let the avaricious twitterings of minor beings take the wind from your sails. You are not a peon, a paper pusher, you are a dragon.
Yeah, I said, kicking the dirt with the boots Keel had given me, right now I just feel like the proverbial red-headed step-child.
A wolf does not concern herself with the opinions of the sheep.
Maybe she should. Having some compassion for your prey never hurt anyone. I looked over to where Jenny and Flea chatted. I’m just being hypocritical. I want to be the girl with the most cake.
I don’t understand; it appears to me you’re experiencing natural territoriality about your prospective mates. Female dragons are quite intolerant of sexual competitors. It’s one of the few things that will result in aggression between queens of breeding age.
Maybe, doesn’t make it right though, I said and let out a long breath. I squared my shoulders and then forced myself to walk inside.
“You come back again soon,” the shopkeeper said with a bright smile, pocketing the gold Flea handed her. “We’ve got a shipment from Sariah coming in that promises to have quite the range of delicacies.”
“Will there be any deep-sea tiger abalone? I had some at a restaurant in Damorica and it was divine when sliced wafer-thin and dipped in soy sauce,” I said. Everyone’s eyes turned to me and I instantly regretted opening my mouth. Flea looked surprised but the shopkeeper just sniffed.
“Not likely to get anything highly perishable.” She went back to Flea, “Do tell us if the cheese is to your liking.”
“And don’t forget your flowers,” Jenny said. She picked them up off the countertop and passed them to him, a simple enough gesture if you weren’t looking for the clues. Perhaps it was just me who saw the slight shake in her hand when she handed them to him, her teeth digging into her full bottom lip, her eyes going wide, shining in the late afternoon light. Fuck, I thought, she’s hoping they’re for her.
I almost wished they were. I watched her face fall as he picked them up and shoved them into the basket with a polite nod, not even noticing the play-by-play of her expressions: realisation bleeding into crushing disappointment, then muting into resignation. I remained frozen, unable to look away, transfixed by the all too familiar cycle of emotion on the girl’s face. “Tess?” Flea said, jerking his head to the other basket. I started forward, collecting it and turned to go. I paused for a moment, meeting Jenny’s eyes and wishing there was something I could say. I didn’t get much for my troubles, just a flat stare.
By the time I got outside, Flea was retrieving the ropes we used to coil around Miazydar and tie baskets to. He made his usual disparaging comments about being a flying donkey and my brain went off on a tangent, wondering what the flying baby dragon-donkeys from Shrek would have grown up like. It took for Flea to walk up to me, slipping an arm around my waist to bring me back to the here and now. “I got some stuff for a picnic,” he said, the sun hanging low in the sky casting golden shadows across his face. “There’s a nice spot just up the hill a ways.”
I know where it is. Are you amenable?
“Yeah, OK.”
A strange side effect of getting back into training again was I felt a lot more comfortable in my skin. I was still clumsy AF and seemed able to trip over the tiniest bumps on an uneven surface, but weirdly, when I was training regularly I could fight semi-convincingly. The aches in my muscles drew my attention to my body. I was conscious of how I moved and as I went on; I felt stronger and more competent. Well, all that fled now.
I stood awkwardly as Flea arranged a feast on the grassy slope. Someone or some animal had cropped the grass into a short, plush pile. I looked at it; the bottles, the array of food and… fidgeted. I moved to go and sit down but then where should I sit? He picked up the bunch of flowers as he sorted out the food. Should I be sitting next to him, all romantic like and stare into each other’s eyes as the sun went down? Should I just sit wherever like it was no big deal? Should I wait for him to usher me wherever he wanted me?
Just sit, or don’t, but stop dissecting every choice.
Obediently, I dropped to the ground, cross-legged, realising all too late I wasn’t close enough to the food. While Flea’s back was turned I shuffled over like a dog dragging his bum on the ground. He smiled when he saw me, then held out the flowers, just as Jenny had hoped, I’m sure. “For you.”
“Wow, Flea…” I took the bright-coloured bunch and looked down at the complex patterns on each bloom. They had an alien quality that made them all the prettier to my untrained eye.
“Not exactly a surprise, but I saw them and thought of you, I guess.” He sat down beside me with a fluid grace I hoped to attain one day. He reached over and popped the lid of two bottles of beer, passing me one and taking the other. I watched his throat work as he took a long swig and then he turned to me. “This is nice. It seems you’re always busy with the war games and the bullshit at the university. Then there’s Jez and her crap. It’s nice for it to be just us for once, y’know.”
“It’s only us two in bed at night,” I said with a grin, then realised how that came across.
He laughed at my expression. “I know and I enjoy what goes on in there too, it’s just…” He reached out and took my hand in his, letting his hands rub against mine.
“Maybe you should spend some time with Jenny,” I said, hating the sound of my own voice, sounding suspiciously quavery to me. I kept my eyes on where our fingers met, not trusting myself to look up. “She seemed keen and… it’s OK by me. Not that you need my permission, of course.”
His chuckle was brief and dry, his hand tightening around mine before he hauled me closer, rearranging me, something that took more manoeuvring than it should but finally, I was settled against his body, his arms around me, his legs to either side of mine. “Jenny’s a nice girl, but I very much doubt I’ll ever see her slice a man in two, ride a dragon like she owns it, fight with a sword or a spear and then throw herself off a dragon rather than get cut down. You’re like a real life superhero, Tess, ain’t no other girl gonna give me that.” The fingers of one of his hands tangled themselves in my hair, stroking the strands smooth before slipping free. “Anyway, you don’t need to push me towards anyone, looking to legitimise what you’re doing. I gotta admit, in my heart of hearts, I hope that what’s happening with flyboy is just working through the crush you had on Merlin, but maybe it isn’t. All I can do is hope that I’m the one standing by your side at the end. That maybe I’ll get to see that secret part of yourself you hold deep down inside, thinking no one is noticing.”
“Secret…?”
“You think no one sees it, but I do. I’ve seen you run rings around your sister when we got back, setting up the business deals through the portal and managing both Ash and the clients. That mind of yours is ticking over, seeing what others don’t, working out solutions before anyone’s even noticed there’s a problem. You don’t speak, you do. I don’t know who taught you to keep it all inside, maybe it was that crazy mothe
r of yours, but Tess, I’m here, even if you do decide on flyboy, I’m here. You’re the dragon rider in my drawings, brave, uncompromising, staring down obstacles face on, looking out over alien landscapes, deciding on what needs to be done.”
I was thankful for how we were sitting. I should’ve been flattered, I was conscious of that, but I wasn’t. Instead, the sun saw my no doubt gutted expression. We were wrapped up in each other’s bodies, but I couldn’t have felt any further apart from Flea if I got on Miazydar and travelled to the furthest reaches of the continent. How could he not see it, the cost of getting up each day and facing everyone’s envy and dislike? I was forced to leap off a dragon’s back because I thought I was going to be sliced in two by some kind of lightsaber spear. I couldn’t even complete my coursework here, having to rely on my dragon to do my homework for me. Hot angry tears pricked at my eyes and I rubbed them away before he could see them. It wasn’t his fault; he didn’t know and I didn’t tell him. Rather, I focussed on my breathing until my heart rate began to settle.
We ate afterwards. Jenny had been right, the cheese was especially creamy. We should definitely put that on the list for next time. We didn’t say much, Flea seemed to feel he’d made his grand gesture and I couldn’t bring myself to tell him otherwise.
31
I sat outside with Miazydar later that night after everyone else had gone to bed. My mind was churning: Greynell’s revelations, relationships, war games, school, training, jumping off dragons, poison, assessments, students trying to take me out. I’d been juggling all those balls, keeping them in the air and now they all lay on the ground around me. Miazydar didn’t give advice, just placed his massive head along alongside my body, forcing my hand to rest on his scales as we both looked out onto the stars of an alien galaxy. It was too much, that was apparent as soon as I listed all the things that were happening, so what was I going to do about this?
