The Last of the Firedrakes

by Farah Oomerbhoy

  I missed Snow, too. Uncle Gabriel had taken the Pegasus with him, as his journey was long and tedious, and Snow had offered to take him more speedily to Kelliandria. I even missed Uncle Gabriel. He was strict, but when he was around, I felt safe.

  * * *

  That night after dinner, I lay on my bed, waiting for Vivienne to fall asleep so I could go and meet Rafe. I knew she would disapprove, so I decided it was best not to tell her.

  “Aren’t you late to go meet your boyfriend?” said Vivienne tartly, rolling over in her bed to face me. Vivienne was sharper than I gave her credit for.

  I was startled. I thought she was asleep. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” I said.

  Vivienne sat up in her bed and tried to light a candle. But her fingers only sparked and went out. “Oof,” she said, throwing her hands in the air and giving up.

  “Could you please light the candle?” she said sheepishly.

  I laughed—poor Vivienne. She was an amazing person and very intelligent, but unfortunately she didn’t really have much potential for magic.

  I pointed my finger at the candle and it lit up. Vivienne was just sitting there on the bed, her arms crossed, glaring at me.

  “What’s the problem, Viv?” I said.

  “The problem is that you still don’t trust me.”

  “Of course I do,” I said quickly. “I’ve told you everything.”

  “I saw him last night,” Vivienne said.

  “Saw who?” I retorted, but I had a pretty good idea who she meant.

  “It’s the Black Wolf, isn’t it?” said Vivienne.

  I nodded; it was no use lying anymore. I had to tell her the truth. “You saw him without his mask. Did you recognize him as anyone you knew?” I asked tentatively.

  Vivienne shook her head. “No, it was too dark. I couldn’t see his face clearly.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. Although I wanted to know who he was, I didn’t want him to get into trouble just because he came to see me.

  “You are being very reckless, Rory,” said Vivienne. “You’re meeting him alone, in the dead of night, without even knowing who he really is.”

  “I know he has a dangerous reputation,” I said carefully. “But Rafe would never hurt me.”

  “So it’s Rafe now, is it?” said Vivienne, raising her eyebrows. She did that so many times that I was surprised they didn’t stay that way.

  I smiled and started pulling on my boots. “I’ve got to go. He must be waiting.” I took my brown woolen cloak and opened the door.

  “Be careful,” said Vivienne.

  “When am I not careful?” I called back, closing the door gently and hurrying to the cellar.

  Rafe was waiting for me with the secret door open. I lit my hand and followed him through the passageway.

  “I heard that you finally found out what was in the pouch,” Rafe said as we walked through the damp passage. “I don’t know how often I should stress that you need to be wary of the Blackwaters.”

  “I wanted to find out what Morgana was planning,” I said. “Isn’t it better that we know now?”

  Rafe nodded slightly. “We would have discovered it eventually.”

  “But it may have been too late,” I said. “Anyway, it’s done. We know what she’s after. The question is, what are we going to do about it?”

  “You,” said Rafe, “are going to do nothing.”

  I huffed at his answer but decided to keep quiet for now. I had to concentrate on learning to defend myself; that was my first priority now.

  We came out in the study of the abandoned mansion. Rafe took me through the house and out into the garden overlooking the river. It was a beautiful night and soft moonlight lit the water, covering it in a sheet of silver. Rafe pulled out a sleek-looking sword, held it horizontally in both his hands, and presented it to me.

  “I had it specially ordered for you,” he said, as I took the sword from his hands. It was light and fast, a perfect sword for a person of my height and build. The hilt was beautifully inlaid with three large rubies, which looked like it would have cost a fortune. “It was forged by the dwarves of ancient Stonegate themselves.”

  “Thank you, Rafe. It’s lovely, but I hope you didn’t steal it?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  Rafe laughed, and I was relieved that he wasn’t offended or angry that I’d said that.

  “No, I didn’t steal it,” he said, taking out his own sword. “You really should have more faith in me, Aurora.”

  I blushed. “Sorry, I just presumed, since the jewels on the hilt look very expensive.”

  “They are,” Rafe said simply, coming over to me. “Now let me see your grip . . .”

  * * *

  The next month was filled with grueling days with the professors and even more grueling nights with Rafe, learning to be a warrior. Besides learning to fight with a sword, he taught me to use knives in a fight, one in each hand, and I was getting better at throwing them. I hardly slept, but I pushed myself. I had to discover what I was capable of and what my limits were.

  On top of my regular classes, which were four a day and an hour each, I also had an hour with Professor Dekela where we discussed politics of the kingdom, etiquette of the court and the royal families. The professor told me about the jealousies and the rivalries between the various noble families, the histories of these families, and their role in the government of the country. We also discussed the mage guild, the royal council consisting of the lords of Eldoren, the council of thirteen in Illiador, their duties, qualifications, who they were, and what families and factions they were loyal to.

  He also told me a lot about Morgana and Lucian. “Know your enemy,” said Professor Dekela countless times.

  So I had to study Morgana’s life thoroughly. I learned that Morgana was born a few years after my father’s mother, Queen Fiona, died. Driven by grief, the old King of Illiador, my grandfather Ereneth, married again, this time to a woman he barely knew. Her name was Lilith.

  “Morgana is the daughter of Lilith?” I asked.

  Professor Dekela nodded. “Yes. But Lilith was no ordinary woman. Your grandmother Fiona was gentle and kind, as well as a powerful mage and healer. But Lilith, well, Lilith was not what she seemed at first. Your grandfather was captivated by her beauty and married her without thinking. When Morgana was born, Lilith’s true nature became clear. She plotted and schemed against her own husband and was even partly responsible for the last mage war.”

  “No one has mentioned her in my history class,” I said.

  “Well, history is not always accurate. Lilith orchestrated the whole thing from behind the scenes, providing information and money to help their cause. If the Black Mages had succeeded in taking Illiador, she would have killed your grandfather and taken the throne for herself. But finally the king realized what she was about and ordered her to be arrested. She flew into a rage and tried to kill your grandfather. It was Azaren who stopped her, and she tried to kill him too. Azaren had no choice but to defend himself and end Lilith’s life.”

  Realization dawned, and my eyes widened. “That’s why Morgana hates my father and me so much. My father killed her mother.”

  Professor Dekela nodded gravely. “Now, let’s get back to your studies, shall we?”

  Three times a week I had extra healing with Penelope, in her private rooms. She taught me higher levels of healing than were usually taught to the novices. Penelope showed me how to heal myself from the inside, to shake off effects of magical strikes. I had already done this unintentionally when Damien and his goons attacked me. But now I knew exactly what I was doing. I learned how much power to use to heal myself without dropping my shield. I also understood about special fae herbs and potions that were Penelope’s particular secret. I absorbed everything like a sponge, and I seemed to have a natural affinity for healing, becoming rather good at it.

  Six times a week I had very strenuous lessons with Professor Tanko, who, although formidable in the r
egular classes, was jovial and friendly in our private lessons. I also found out that he was a very dear friend of my father’s. I wished I could tell him who I really was, but Penelope had warned me that we still didn’t know who to trust. And Aunt Serena was still very angry with me for telling Vivienne as well.

  Professor Tanko taught me how to perform and block stun strikes, crush strikes, fire strikes, and lightning strikes. I practiced my basic push strikes until I could control the intensity of my striking power.

  Soon I could hit a moving target with my lightning strikes. And after every session, I had a whole host of game in a heap at my feet, which were sent to the kitchens, on Professor Tanko’s orders.

  I was becoming stronger, physically and magically as well. Even with the amulet on, my powers were resilient. The professor would also make me run for two hours every day in the woods on the outskirts of the city of Neris to build up my stamina and strength.

  “Your powers are strong, Rory,” said Baron Tanko one day, as we were resting after an extremely strenuous lesson. “I can understand now why the mastermage wanted you to have extra lessons. It’s not that you are lagging behind, but in fact you are too strong. And with powers like yours learning to control them is very important.”

  I was still wearing my amulet at all times. I thought it would diminish my power, but it didn’t feel like it. My strikes were fast and powerful, and my shields were strong. Could I really have more power than this? Was it even possible for one person to possess so much power?

  Uncle Gabriel said that people were afraid of fae-mages. It sounded absurd that anyone could be afraid of me. But I was definitely getting curious about how much power I really had, and many times I contemplated taking off the amulet just to see what I could actually do.

  Professor Tanko went on talking. “There is a very important lesson I want you to learn, Rory,” he said.

  I listened intently. I was determined to be the best, and I would have to be if I wanted to achieve anything at all.

  “Learning to control the intensity of your strikes is one thing, but what I want to teach you now is considered High Magic and only taught in the third and fourth years at the academy. Normally a mage of your age would not need to learn this technique yet, as their powers are still not strong enough to kill a person with their strikes.”

  “Kill,” I gasped. “I don’t want to kill anyone.”

  “I should hope not,” said Baron Tanko, looking amused. “In any case, the lesson here is, how do you know if your strike can just wound a person or kill him? What I am trying to say is that the intent behind your strike is as important as the intensity of the strike itself. A powerful lightning strike can kill a man if the intent is there to kill. But you can perform a lightning strike that will temporarily paralyze your opponent if you so intend. The same goes for fire strikes. A novice would only be able to cause a slight burn when he or she performs a fire strike. But a fully trained mage can burn a man alive with it. Or he could only scorch somebody, depending on the intent. These strikes not only work against people, but on objects as well. A small fire strike can light a candle, but a strong one could burn down a house. This is the reason students are not allowed to use strikes outside classes. A wrong strike with wrong intent can cause severe damage.”

  I nodded, understanding dawning. Professor Dekela was preparing me for anything, not just for the school tests.

  I still met Rafe every night and practiced everything I had learned so far. In the time that we spent together, we talked about everything. I told him all about my childhood, my adoptive parents, how they died, and my life with the Darlingtons. Rafe also opened up a little, and I got glimpses into his life as a boy and his relationship with his parents. He told me amusing stories about his younger years and spoke very fondly about many of his friends. I got a sense that he didn’t really get along with his family, but he still never told me who he really was.

  On occasion, Rafe would take me down to a secluded area of the docks, in the early hours of the morning, while the city was asleep, and I would haul boxes and crates onto a wagon, lifting them with magic. This sort of magic required a lot of precision and strength, and Rafe explained that exercising my magic was as important as exercising my muscles. I would leave my nightly classes exhausted, with barely any energy to eat, and fall into my bed.

  Still, I was happy spending so much time with him, and my heart yearned for him to feel the same about me, but I was never really sure of his motives for helping me. And every time I thought that he might have feelings for me, he reminded me that he had a debt to repay my father.

  So I tried to push him from my thoughts and immersed myself in my studies. I spent my free time at the library reading the histories of Avalonia and the politics and societies of all the seven kingdoms. I memorized the names of the kingdoms and their rulers, the names of the noble families, what they did, and who they were. I learned about the different guilds, the merchants and artisans, and how they sold and traded. Where all the main trading ports were and what cities and towns sold what, how many shops they had, and the prices of certain tradable items. I even spent hours poring over maps of the seven kingdoms and making extensive notes.

  Professor Dekela was going to be giving me a test, and I intended to be ready for that, so I could prove to him and everybody else that I was ready for anything. After all, I was supposed to be the most powerful being in all the seven kingdoms: a fae-mage with unlimited magic. If I didn’t prove myself now and be the best, how could I ever hope to run a kingdom and be queen?

  23

  The First Test

  The garden cafeteria was a gaggle of voices and chattering students. Autumn had arrived early, and stray brown and gold leaves scattered beneath the soles of the students’ boots. I couldn’t believe it had been only three months since I had come to Avalonia, and I had finally regained a sense of belonging that had disappeared when my adoptive parents died.

  Professor Dekela strode into the garden; his very presence enough to quiet the cafeteria. His dark eyes flashed, stern and commanding.

  “As some of you may know,” he started in a strong, calm voice, “over the next few days we will be having our annual tests. All the students enrolled at the academy must pass these examinations if they want to proceed with their magical education.”

  Immediately, the chattering and whispering started in full force, like a wave rising and breaking against the shore.

  “Please be quiet,” said Professor Dekela, an exasperated look on his face.

  One of the teachers handed the mastermage a sealed scroll.

  “I will post this on the information tree,” said Professor Dekela. “Everybody please check the time and place of your tests. If you don’t show up on time, you will fail at that subject.”

  * * *

  The night before the first tests, I met Rafe in our usual place and he presented me with a pair of beautiful jeweled daggers.

  “Because every queen needs a set of these,” Rafe said, smiling when he gave them to me. “And they can be easily concealed.”

  “And how do you know what every queen needs?” I asked, trying to sound stern, but suppressing a smile.

  Rafe’s eyebrows arched upwards, and he grinned. “Do you really want to know?”

  I shook my head and laughed. “No, not really. Thank you so much Rafe,” I said, throwing my arms around his neck and giving him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. “They are beautiful. I love them.” This time I didn’t ask where he got them.

  He hugged me back. “Also not stolen, in case you were wondering.”

  “Not funny,” I said, swatting him on his arm.

  “I thought it was,” said Rafe, still chuckling as we made our way back to the school before dawn broke.

  * * *

  When the day of the first test arrived, I was very nervous. I barely managed to stuff a piece of bread into my mouth as Vivienne accompanied me to the testing area.

  The south field was splendidly
decorated. Marquees and stands were set up to form a rectangle, and in the middle an open space loomed—the arena. Four tents were set up in the middle of the testing arena, which I presumed was the place the first test was to be held.

  When I went to the professor to give him my name, I realized to my utter horror that Damien and I had been teamed together for the first test—Healing.

  I had no idea what I was up against, and having Damien on my team was not reassuring. What were the teachers thinking? They knew better than to team Damien and me together, I mused. Everyone knew about our enmity. I just hoped he behaved himself while the examinations were on.

  “I hope you know what you are doing,” said Damien rudely, as he strode past me into the arena. “I don’t want to lose because some amateur forgot how to do things.”

  “You’re the one who needs to keep up,” I said.

  Professor Dekela strode in as everyone lined up.

  “Let the test begin,” boomed Professor Tanko’s resounding voice.

  Healing was the first test. There were four tents, one each for different levels of magic. We had to go in the tents provided and create a remedy for the patient in the tent who had been poisoned.

  We waited for our turn.

  “We’re up next,” said Damien, coming to stand next to me.

  Finally it was our turn, and Damien and I went into the tent. A pale girl was stretched out on the bed. Her head was sweaty, and her face was deathly white.

  “She has been poisoned by hemlock,” stated Damien, in his usual irritating know-it-all manner. But he was wrong; healing was not Damien’s strongest skill.

  “No, I don’t think so,” I said, checking the patient. “I think it is more subtle than that.”

  I felt the girl’s head. She was burning with fever, her eyes were closed, and her breathing was faint at best.