“What’s it for?” I dared to try my luck to see how much he was willing to tell me.
Ulric just shrugged and made a grunting sound at first, leaning to spit some of his tobacco juice onto the ground. He’d been chewing it nearly nonstop since we’d left home. “Training.”
I stared at the massive structure as we passed it. It was hard not to feel intimidated by it. It looked like a massive stone turtle shell, with a rounded opening like a gaping maw. As our wagon rolled by it, I was almost certain I heard it growl.
Ulric pointed out the buildings the further we went into the complex. There were two dormitories, one meant for instructors and high-ranking riders, and another for students. They both looked the same on the outside, the same height and shape, with narrow windows. There was a separate place for academics, and a gymnasium for combat training.
One very long, especially strange-looking building was set at the back, directly behind the central dome. It looked like a dollhouse with one wall missing so that you could see all the rooms inside it. Extending from each of the ten levels were platforms made from iron beams laid out like latticework. I watched the dragons come in close to the building, flaring their wings to slow their speed, and stretching out their strong back legs to grip the platform with curled talons as they landed. It was like a stable for dragons, with each room being a separate stall for a dragon to nest in. Ulric said they called it the Roost.
We stopped at last outside of one of the two armory houses. One was set up especially for blacksmiths, with already established forges and plenty of room for the smiths to work fashioning and repairing armor. Its tall chimneys belched black smoke into the air, and I could smell the familiar scent of scorched metal. It reminded me of Katty’s house.
As soon as we found our workstation in the armory house meant for tackmasters, Ulric backed the wagon up to it, and we started to unload all the crates and rolls of leather. He put me to work opening the crates with a pry bar, telling me to set out his tools while he went to stable the horse.
Even here, in the desert valley of Devil’s Cup, it was still cool this early in the spring. But the air was so dry, and I was so tired already, it didn’t take me ten minutes to be drenched with sweat again. I tied my hair back to get it away from my face, not thinking about it until I heard someone say the word “halfbreed.”
Then I remembered. Tying my hair back like that exposed my pointed ears. They weren’t elongated and slender like a full blooded gray elf’s would have been, but their subtle points were definitely noticeable. And people were definitely beginning to notice.
There was a group of four older boys standing just outside Ulric’s workstation, and they were staring right at me. I didn’t know any of them, but I could tell they were new students right away. They weren’t wearing uniforms or armor yet, and they all looked seventeen. Naturally, they were all a good foot taller than I was, and I knew they were laughing at me even without looking up to make sure.
I tried to ignore them. Nothing good would happen if I said anything back, and I didn’t have much of an ego left to defend anyway. They could say what they wanted; I’d come here to work.
I was stacking the empty crates outside our workstation, making room for dragons to be brought inside like Ulric had told me to, when I felt someone pull my hair. Someone grabbed my ponytail, and yanked it hard enough to make me fall backwards. The empty crate landed squarely on my chest.
It knocked the breath right out of me, and I laid there for a few seconds looking up into the sky and the glare of the sun in a daze. I thought maybe I’d imagined it. Maybe I’d just tripped. But then a menacing face appeared over me. One of the guys who had been laughing at me earlier was leaning over, smirking and looking back to his friends for approval. For some reason bullies always needed validation that they were doing a good job. Or at least, it seemed that way to me.
“What are you doing here, scum?” He sneered down at me. “We don’t like traitors, you know.” I watched him disappear, and then a few seconds later, there was a boot in my face. He put the heel of his shoe on my forehead and started to grind it back and forth.
I hadn’t even thought about fighting back yet. I was just trying to figure out how to get the boot off my face and the crate off my chest. But suddenly both were gone, and I heard the group of older boys cursing and yelling.
Rolling over to cough and blink the dirt out of my eyes, I lifted my head to see a much larger, fully armored man holding the boy who’d been using me as his doormat by the ear. The knight was pinching the boy’s ear in his gauntlet-covered hand, making him scream in pain, before finally letting him go. Something about the knight was familiar. I couldn’t figure out what it was until he was standing over me, grabbing me by the arm and hauling me back to my feet.
“You attract a lot of attention, boy.” The knight’s voice was immediately familiar. It was the same one who had come to pick up his saddle from our house.
I opened my mouth to say something, and immediately forgot what it was. I hadn’t expected anyone to come to my rescue, least of all a knight. I remembered to at least be grateful. “Thank you, sir.”
He made an annoyed sound as he removed his white-crested helmet. Now I was certain it was the same knight from before. He looked down at me with his dark green eyes narrowed and scrutinizing. His dark hair was cut very short and beginning to turn gray around his temples. Even though his skin was weathered, there was still something wild and unpredictable in his eyes, which made it hard to place his age. Still, I couldn’t imagine him being any older than Ulric.
“You should keep a low profile,” he warned me. “Unless you intend on growing a spine in the near future.”
Couldn’t he see me? Sure, standing up to bullies and the other kids who gave me a hard time sounded good in theory, but I knew better. I had no chance of ever winning a fight like that. Better to let them kick me around some, use me as a doormat, and get away with no broken bones, than get my arms cracked off just to prove a point.
“Save it, Sile. The kid’s a coward. Better that way. He’ll live longer if he keeps his mouth shut.” Ulric’s voice growled, surprising me as he strolled up behind us. Immediately, I went back to work moving crates.
The knight frowned at me, looking disappointed, and I tried not to notice. It made an urgent feeling twist in the pit of my stomach, so I turned my back to him while I worked and tried not to listen to anything else they said.
“Who is that?” I asked when the knight finally left to go back about his business.
Ulric was setting up sawhorses, and scowling at all the work I’d done like none of it was up to his standard. But I never saw him fix anything. He made another annoyed grunting sound in response to my question. “Sile Derrick,” he answered, and spat another mouthful of putrid tobacco juice on the ground. “Stay away from him. He should mind his own business, instead of telling me how to mind mine.”
We got the workshop ready just after sundown. It took a long time for me to drag out base molds and fill them with packed wax shavings from huge sacks I had to drag out of a storeroom. My arms were sore, and my stomach was growling so loudly I knew everyone could hear it. I’d never been so tired in all my life, but when Ulric glanced at me, I tried to look as composed and ready to work as I’d ever been.
“We start at dawn,” he told me, finally spitting out the wad of tobacco he’d been gnawing on into a trash barrel. “You sleep in here, and mind our stuff. Have the molds ready when I get here.”
Ulric left me standing in the workshop, wondering what I was supposed to eat or where I could sleep, as he disappeared into the complex. I was immediately afraid. After the sun had set, the air had gotten very cold, and the wind howled through the valley making an eerie, screaming sound.
I couldn’t find anything to eat, but there were a few good swallows of water left in one of the canteens we’d used on our journey here. I found Ulric’s sleeping pallet and unrolled it in a corner of the shop behind a few stacked up
crates of materials where no one would be able to see me. I didn’t want to run the risk of those older boys finding me again.
Hours passed. It was bitter cold. Even under the two quilts I had, I was still freezing. More than anything, though, I was starving. I hadn’t had a good meal since Mrs. Crookin’s bread, and thoughts of those wasted crumbs were making my stomach tie up in knots. It hurt so much it put tears in my eyes. I didn’t know how I was going to find the strength to work the next day if I didn’t get something to eat before then.
Sometime after midnight, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I got to my feet in pitch black, and snuck out of the workshop. The complex was quiet in the dead of night. Almost all the students and riders were asleep, and their dragons were snug in the Roost. Only a few were still out flying low patrol patterns around the walls. I couldn’t see them, but I could hear the hum of the wind off their wings and long scaled tales whenever they swooped in close.
I was looking for anything edible I could get my hands on without being caught. I walked past the two armories, spotting the smoldering fires from the forge that still glowed. I wondered if I could sneak in there to sleep. At least it would be warmer closer to the forge.
On my way past the breaking dome, my steps got slower, until finally I was standing before the gaping doorway, staring into it with my skin shivering. It felt deep and monstrously dark in there, as though it were the bottomless abyss of some dark cave.
That’s when I heard it. Before, I thought I was only imagining that building growling at me. This time I was sure.
A deep, rumbling growl echoed from within, and I tripped over my feet backing away from it. I looked back over my shoulder. There was no one else there. No one was watching, or playing some kind of trick on me. But I didn’t feel like I was alone. There was definitely something in that deep, dark cavern of a building, and it felt like it was calling out to me.
Three
I knew I should have just gone back to the workstation and tried sleeping again. Ulric might remember to bring me something to eat in the morning, if I was lucky. After all, nothing good could possibly come from nosing around in the secret places of the academy. Going into the breaking dome alone so late at night was a terrible idea. Probably the worst idea I’d had yet.
I had almost talked myself out of it. I was scared of what I’d find in there, or worse, of getting caught red-handed by my father. Whenever I got caught somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be, people tended to suspect the worst right away. I’d probably get accused of being a traitor again, or a spy, or something ridiculous like that. If the gray elves were going to try to spy on Blybrig, I was pretty sure I’d be the last person in the world they’d ever want to send to do it. Too bad no one else was ever going to agree with me about that. This couldn’t end any way but bad for me.
But I just couldn’t help myself.
Like an idiot, I started to walk toward the gaping mouth of the building, staring up at the cavernous entryway that towered over me. It was so dark inside I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. I smacked right into a wall. Stumbling around with my arms out, I followed that wall and realized it was actually rounded to follow the circular external shape of the dome. It was like an enclosed arena made of solid rock. A structure like this wouldn’t be fazed by a dragon’s snapping jaws or flashing flames.
A sudden sharp hiss off to my left made me flinch and gasp, spinning around to see there was a faint, golden light trickling from around the corner. It felt far away, and as I walked toward it, I couldn’t tell if I was getting any closer or if it was actually moving away from me. A few more steps brought me around the curved inner wall, and there was a sudden thundering roar. It was so loud it rattled the floor, and made me clamp my hands over my ears. I could feel the pulsing under my boots coming from some kind of impact, like when Ulric was working with his hammer and I could feel the ground vibrating under my feet.
The gold light was coming through a half-cracked set of massive iron doors. They towered over me, so big a giant could have used them without having to worry about bumping his head. One of them was open just enough that bright light poured out from within. My heart was hammering in my ears. Something smelled like smoke, and I could still hear the sound of that rumbling growl like thunder.
I’d come too far not to see whatever was making such a racket inside. Inch by inch, I hedged toward the crack in the door, and finally peered in. The light was bright at first, so I had to squint to see. All I saw was a flash of blue scales, and another trumpeting roar made me run for cover behind the heavy door. I was shaking so badly I could barely stand up, and I still wasn’t sure what I’d seen in there.
“Get a good look?” An angry voice snapped at me suddenly.
I almost fainted from terror. A big man-shaped shadow was looming over me, standing right behind me. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t even breathe, and didn’t know how to even begin explaining myself.
Then he stepped into the light, and I knew right away who it was. Sile Derrick was frowning down at me with his big, muscular arms crossed over his chest. He wasn’t wearing his armor this time, instead he had on a tunic and pants that stank like sweat, and were a little scorched around the corners. He glared down at me like I’d done something terrible, still waiting for an explanation.
“I-I thought I heard . . .” I started to speak, but lost my nerve. None of the excuses I could think of sounded even slightly convincing.
He shook his head, frowning harder down at me with his dead eyes narrowed. “Go on, then. Get a good, long look, boy.”
I opened my mouth to protest. I didn’t really want to see what was in there anymore. I’d seen enough.
He wasn’t going to let me off that easy, though. With one of his big hands planted on my shoulder, he steered me around and back toward the crack in the door. Again, the bright light blinded me, and I had to squint to see what was inside. But as I blinked away the glare, I saw the arena.
It was a huge, circular room with a dirt floor and a domed ceiling made out of solid steel with big iron cross beams. It had to be at least thirty—maybe even forty—feet tall, lit by torches that filled the room with golden light. I’d never seen a room so big before, and my mouth was hanging open long before I even saw the dragon.
He saw me at the same time, and our eyes locked from across the wide arena floor. At first, all I could do was stare at him while he glared back at me. I stopped, terror making my legs go completely stiff even with the powerful knight’s hand still gripping my shoulder. I didn’t want to go any closer than was absolutely necessary. Part of me was beginning to wonder if my punishment for nosing around would be becoming a late-night dragon snack.
I’d never seen a dragon up close before, but now I was standing only a few yards away from one. He was tied down to the floor with heavy iron chains. His head, neck, wings, legs, and tail were all clamped down to the ground so that he couldn’t do much more than snarl at us. And that’s exactly what he did.
His big yellow eyes stared right at me, pupils narrowed into slits, and he curled his lips up to snarl. Then I heard that growl again, that thunderous rumble, and all my hair stood on end. I must have gone a few minutes without taking a breath, because I started to feel faint.
“It isn’t very often we are able to catch a wild dragon.” Sile Derrick was looking at the creature, but he wasn’t frowning anymore. He looked almost sad, watching the dragon that was still showing us his rows of pointed teeth. “In the old days, all dragons were born wild. When they chose a rider, they were brought here to be broken to a saddle. It was like a sacred bonding ritual that paired the two forever as allies. That’s why they call this place the breaking dome. But now dragons are bred like horses. They don’t have a choice about who will become their rider, like they did in the old days. That is—unless we come across a wild one like this.”
I’d stopped trembling, and started breathing again. It didn’t look like the dragon could move, otherwise we probably would ha
ve already been his midnight meal. “Who did he choose?” I wanted to know.
Sile shook his head. “No one. We’ve tried about twenty different candidates, but he won’t even let us put a saddle on him. He’s sent a few of them home in crutches, in fact. They were lucky to get away without losing a limb.”
I swallowed hard. The dragon blinked at me, giving a loud snort out his nostrils that sent a puff of hot air blasting at my face.
“The Academy Commander has decided he’s too dangerous to let anyone else try. He’s too old to be ridden. If he were younger, maybe then we could break his spirit enough to let someone ride him. But we can’t risk anyone else getting hurt. It’s bad enough to have riders die in battle, let alone in training.” Sile let his hand slide off my shoulder, and he gave a loud sigh. “I’ve been trying to reason with him. It’s a shame. He’ll have his wing tendons cut, most likely, and be used for breeding.”
That didn’t sit too well with me. He refused to conform, to be broken to the will of a rider, and so they were just going to take away his freedom altogether? Why did they have the right to do that? Hadn’t he been born free? The more I looked at the dragon, tied down to the ground and glowering at us with wild fury, the more I understood his anger. He’d never fly again, if these knights got their way.
“If he had a rider,” I started to ask. “If someone could ride him, I mean. If it were possible, would he still have to have his wing tendons cut?”
Sile met my gaze as I glanced back up at him. There was a strange twinkle in his dark eyes when he answered, “I’d like to think that if he was willing to take a rider, then there’s no reason he couldn’t fly forever with the other dragonriders.”
I stared back at the dragon again. His yellow eyes were glaring right back at me, but he’d stopped snarling and growling. I saw the end of his tail twitching back and forth, and the way his sides rose and fell under his blue scales as he breathed. “Can I . . . can I try?” I didn’t even realize I’d asked that out loud.
Fledgling (The Dragonrider Chronicles) Page 3
