“Can’t wait.” Felix was grinning. He actually looked happy about all this, like he couldn’t wait to get started.
Sile just rolled his eyes. “We’ll see how you feel about it after your first week. Unless you’re psychotic, you’ll be writing your mother begging her to let you come back home to your soft, warm bed.”
As we settled back into our room for the night, Felix was especially chatty. I could tell he was really excited from our talk with Sile. He went on about his own dragon, a female he’d named Novalla. He called her Nova for short, and told me she was bigger than most females he’d ever seen bred.
“You’ll like her,” he promised with a wide grin. “She’s like a lazy housecat, once you get to know her. I bet she’ll get along with yours. What’s his name?”
“Mavrik,” I answered as I shucked off my boots.
Felix couldn’t sit still for a second. He was sitting, then he was up and laying out his gear, then he was looking for his maps, and then he was back sitting on the bed again. I couldn’t believe he still had any energy left at all, after what we’d been through all day.
“So, tell me about yourself,” he demanded. “I don’t know anything about you, well, except that you’ve somehow landed in the last place in the world I’d ever expect to see a halfbreed. We’re going to be roommates for the next two years, so we might as well get to know one another.”
“What is it you want to know?” I looked at him from across the room.
He’d gotten up again, and was obsessively adjusting the laces on his boots. “Well,” he spoke without looking up. “Your dad is Ulric Broadfeather, right? The tackmaster?”
I frowned. Already I could tell this was going to be an uncomfortable conversation for me. “Yeah, that’s him.”
“What about siblings? Or is it just you?”
I told him about Roland and the twins, who were my half siblings. There wasn’t much to tell, really. Roland was rarely around, and I’d made a point to avoid Emry and Lin at all costs.
“I never had any brothers or sisters,” Felix said as he put one boot down and started working on the other. “My dad popped off a son right away, which is all he wanted, and that was it for kids. He’s not exactly a family man. He comes around to tell me when I’m doing something wrong, or when I’ve embarrassed the family name somehow, but beyond that . . . we don’t really know each other.”
Felix and I had more in common than I’d anticipated. Or at least, it was starting to sound that way. “Yeah, Ulric doesn’t really like me.” I couldn’t keep from laughing some at that. It was a huge understatement. “Actually, I’m pretty sure he hates me.”
“What about your mom? I mean your real one, not your stepmom,” he asked. “What’s she like?”
I hesitated. No one had ever asked me about her before. She was obviously where the elven half of my blood had come from, so generally people avoided acknowledging she’d ever existed. I looked up at him warily, and wondered if this was going to end with me having to defend her honor.
Felix met my gaze, waiting for my reply with a curious arch to his brow. “What?”
I looked away quickly, and shrugged. “She’s dead.” I decided to be vague.
“Did she have a name?” He wasn’t going to let me off with that pitiful answer.
“Alowin,” I answered reluctantly.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear she’s gone.” He actually sounded sincere. “You must miss her.”
I just bobbed my head. It hurt to talk about her. My memories of her were precious, and I didn’t want to share them with anyone I thought might smear her name or accuse her of something she’d never done. People had called her a witch before, or worse.
“So,” Felix started to speak again, and I could tell by his voice that he was changing the subject. “On to the important stuff. Girls. You have one in the pocket back at home?”
“What?” I gawked at him. That was ridiculous, but for some reason, it made my face started to burn with embarrassment. “No, of course not.”
“You sly pup.” He grinned at me cunningly. “You do! Look at you, blushing like an idiot. What’s she like, eh?”
I tried to glare at him, to look convincingly resentful of his accusations. But it was no use. “She’s just my friend. It’s not like that at all.”
“Oh sure.” He rolled his eyes. Putting his shoes aside, he leaned forward where he sat on the edge of his bed. He looked very interested in what he thought was my love life. “A name, Jae. She’s got one, doesn’t she?”
“Katalina,” I grumbled back. “Really, she’s just a friend. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to her before I left to come here. She probably thinks I’m dead.”
“Dead? Pfft, yeah right.” Felix finally started to settle in for the night, kicking back onto his bed, and getting comfortable. “Just write her a letter. Tell her what happened, that you’re staying here for a while to be a dragonrider. I bet she’ll be after you like flies on flop, then. It just kills the girls, you know.”
“What does?” I wasn’t sure what he meant by all that, or if I even wanted Katalina to be after me.
“The dragonrider bit,” he answered like I should have known that already. “You don’t get it do you?”
No, I definitely didn’t.
“The ladies love us, Jae. We’re the heroes. We’re the ones all the other foot soldiers, knights, and cavalrymen wish they were. We’re masters of the sky, the best of the best, and believe me . . . the ladies know it. They can’t get enough of us.”
He jumped out of his bed again, looking at me with a huge grin on his face, and that light of mischief wild in his eyes. “Picture this: the annual officer’s ball, and all the big names are there. We’re talking generals, colonels, knights, and everyone who’s anyone. Of course, all the nobles come to pay their respects, and they bring their dainty little daughters with them to go husband shopping. They’re all dolled up and looking for a hero’s arm to hang on. Sure, the ground men and cavalry boys can show them a few scars, talk up a few stories, but as soon as we hit the doorway—everything changes.”
I wasn’t convinced. At least, not for my own sake. Sure, I could see rich noble girls going after someone like Felix. He was a dragonrider, and he was also a duke’s son. Dragon or not, I was still just a halfbreed. I couldn’t imagine noble girls flocking to dance with a bruised up, scrawny halfbreed who was three years younger than all the other students in my class. Girls, even the ones my age, were pretty much always taller than me, anyway.
Felix seemed to be able to tell that I wasn’t buying it. He just kept grinning as he lay back down onto his bed, putting his hands behind his head, and chuckling under his breath. “Write a letter to your little sweetheart, and you’ll see that I’m right.”
seven
The days all started to blur together. We started every morning the same way. We were up before the call to arms, on our feet, and flying drill patterns with Sile. Then we were running laps, and studying our maps. I wish I could say that the longer I kept up that routine, the easier it got. But that wasn’t the case. Being in Sile’s saddle still made me airsick. The way his dragon flew felt so chaotic to me. Things always started out all right, and then before I knew it, the ground was swirling in my vision and I was back on my hands and knees throwing up. Running was still difficult. Felix kept after me, though, and wouldn’t let me fall behind too far. Studying came easier once Sile showed us a strategy of dividing the map up into quadrants to memorize in smaller chunks.
One night Felix caught me trying to write a letter to Katty. After some teasing, he actually helped me with it. My spelling was horrible, or so he said, and he started showing me the mistakes and format for writing a letter. He told me he’d had tutors and scholars teaching him all his life. Actually, he was a pretty good teacher himself.
We kept up that schedule right up until our gear and armor was finally finished. It was the day before training was supposed to start, and Sile told us to meet him at the sm
ithing armory first. A different blacksmith had made Felix’s armor, so we weren’t together when we got fitted.
I stood on the dressing block while the old blacksmith from before put the different pieces of armor on me over the layer of black thermals I’d been given. Sile stood by, watching, and making comments about the fit being too loose.
“Not my fault,” the blacksmith rasped in his raspy voice. “It’s like dressing a scarecrow.”
The chestplate fit against the top part of my torso, and it was as simple as the light colored steel it was made of. It didn’t have any of the ornate designs and engravings I’d seen on Sile’s armor before. In fact, none of my armor did. It even felt like I was missing some pieces. I only had the chestplate, gauntlets, vambraces, greaves on my legs, and a helmet. They were all very plain, and felt clunky when I moved.
The helmet was the most interesting to me. It had one long slit across the front where my eyes were so I could see, and there was a thin pane of cut clear glass fitted into it. It was like a miniature window built into the helmet.
“So the wind doesn’t mess with your vision,” Sile explained when he saw me looking at it.
“Are there pieces missing?” I finally had the nerve to ask.
Sile shook his head, taking the helmet from me to look it over before he crammed it back down on top of my head again. “For now, this is all you need. You’re just a fledgling, so there’s no need for full battle dress. Don’t worry, no one else will have a full set of armor yet, either.”
“Oh,” I answered. My voice echoed inside the steel helmet.
“Besides, I’m hoping puberty remembers you at some point in the next year. Then we’ll have to order a whole new set to be made,” he added.
He wasn’t the only one hoping that. I wasn’t even worried so much about getting taller anymore, even though that would have certainly helped. Now, I just wished for a little more muscle mass. Anything at all, even a pound, would have made me look less like a joke.
On our way out of the armory, I caught a glimpse of a familiar face out of the corner of my eye. There were a lot of blacksmiths working with riders, and I hadn’t even thought about the fact that Mr. Crookin would be there until I saw him talking with an older student. Without thinking, I broke away from Sile and bolted toward him. I didn’t have Katty’s letter with me, but now I had the perfect way to make sure it got to her.
“Mr. Crookin!” I called out to him, my voice still echoing under my helmet.
He looked down at me, seeming confused by the sight of me until I took the helmet off. Then his eyes got wide, and he put down the hammer he’d been using. “What are you doing, boy? Does Ulric know where you are?”
“Not exactly.” I gave him a strained smile. It was a lot to explain. “I’m staying here. I’m going to be a dragonrider.”
His eyebrows shot up, and then furrowed down like two bushy storm clouds over his eyes. He glared at me like he was silently accusing me of lying, but one look over my armor was testament that either I was telling the truth, or someone was funding a very elaborate hoax. He just shook his head, and there was a look of restrained sympathy on his face, then. “Jaevid, I don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”
I didn’t really. But I wasn’t ready to admit that just yet. “I wrote a letter to Katty. Would you please take it to her when you go back home? I never got to tell her what happened, or where I went. I didn’t get a chance to tell her goodbye, and I don’t want her to think I’m dead.”
He eyed me again, seeming skeptical, but finally rolled his eyes and nodded. “Put it in my saddle bag before I go. She’ll find it.”
I smiled and thanked him, preparing to go back to where Sile was waiting, watching me with his arms crossed in disapproval.
As I turned to go, Mr. Crookin barked out another word. “Jaevid.”
I stopped and glanced back.
Mr. Crookin’s eyes flicked past me, seeing Sile standing there waiting. When he looked back at me, it was like I was as good as dead. “Watch yourself. No need for anyone else to die.”
His warning left a lump in my throat, and I clunked back to stand beside Sile again without answering. He was frowning at me like he was waiting for an explanation. “A family friend,” I told him as vaguely as I knew how.
Sile didn’t ask anything about it. He just grabbed my shoulder to keep me from running off again, and steered me directly toward the second armory building. I had a new saddle waiting for me there.
Getting Mavrik into the saddle was a spectacle. We even had an audience. A few other riders and students started to gather around to watch me trying to put a saddle on my wild dragon.
It wasn’t a very big saddle, because I wasn’t a very big person, and I could carry it fairly easily. But when Mavrik saw it, he hissed at me where he was crouched on his belly. He made angry chattering noises, swishing his long tail, and tracking my movements with his bright yellow eyes as I lugged the saddle over toward him.
“Come on, it’s not that bad.” I grumbled.
He snorted, sending a blast of hot air into my face. A few of the spectators laughed.
“I don’t like it any more than you do. Let’s just get it over with.” I slung the saddle over my shoulder, lifting it up as high as I could to sling it over his neck. Mavrik growled lowly, snorted again, and narrowed his eyes angrily.
Sile stepped in to help me get the hard, shaped bottom of the saddle fitted onto the grooves and horns of Mavrik’s back. It fit like a glove, and he quickly walked me through a blurred lesson in strapping the saddle into place. A pair of very thick leather belts went around his neck and under his wing arms. Lesser straps stabilized it, running under his belly to keep the saddle from sliding around.
Once we’d finished, Sile pulled me back quickly as Mavrik rose up and shook himself. The saddle stayed put, fixed to his back between his neck and wing arms. He snarled at it, twisting around like he didn’t approve, and finally cutting an accusing glare right at me.
I threw my hands up in surrender. “It’s not my fault! I can’t just cling to you and hope you don’t drop me.”
The dragon licked his chops, and slicked his ears back like an angry cat as he hunkered down again.
“Time for a test drive.” Sile was smirking from ear to ear.
My stomach fell, and as he helped me up into the saddle, I was already feeling sick. He showed me how to fit my legs down into the pair of deep, boot-like sheaths crafted into the sides of the saddle. They came up to my knees, and were so snug it was like wearing a second pair of extra tall boots.
“How’s the fit? Can you move your feet?” Sile asked.
I shook my head. “No, not much.”
“Good.” He started rattling off instructions, making me queasy as I tried not to think about what I was about to do. “This is primarily what anchors you into the saddle. Here, you see these handles are like the ones on my saddle. During take off and high-intensity maneuvers, you’re going to have to lean into his speed and hold on. The gauntlets you’re wearing are meant to help you keep a grip. That’s why the palms are coated with resin. Don’t fight against his speed. Move with it. If you resist, you’re going to get slung all over the place. It’s like any relationship, if you go into it unwilling to move and think as one, it can only end in disaster.”
“How do I steer?” I was beginning to panic. I could tell my brief lesson in the basics of flying was almost over. Mavrik was beginning to shift around anxiously again.
Sile grabbed my hand, showing me how to grip the polished bone handles. They were positioned on what looked like a circular pieces of metal, about the size of a dinner plate, built into the sides of the saddle. I’d assumed they were just to keep the handle from coming unstitched, but Sile twisted my hand and showed me that the round metal pieces actually rotated if you pushed hard enough.
“Left and right.” he told me in a hurried voice. “When you twist them, it puts a small amount of pressure against his si
de. He can feel it, and knows which way you want him to go. You’ll have to work with him to get used to it. Remember, he’s never flown with anyone, either. You have to teach each other. You’ll come up with your own signals and body language to communicate in the air.”
I was about to ask how to tell him to land, but Sile was gone in a flash. He jogged backwards away from us as Mavrik began to stand, making me bob around in the saddle as I gripped the handles for dear life. I squinted my eyes shut, clinging with all my might as I felt the dragon shake himself again. He was still writhing around, snarling about the strange feeling of the saddle on his back. All I could do was hang on and pray he wasn’t going to kill me.
Right away, the feel of Mavrik’s flight was completely different from anything I’d experienced with Sile. When he leapt into the sky, I could feel the force and power of his body working around me as he pumped his wings. I heard him roar, felt his sides swelling and shrinking against my legs as he breathed, and watched the earth fall away. The crowd of spectators became like little dark spots far below.
When Mavrik took off, it wasn’t chaos. I didn’t feel like I was going to get flung off his back. I felt anchored, and almost as though I was a part of him. It felt right, and it gave me such a rush of excitement that I couldn’t help but scream out. He stretched his wings wide, leveling off and letting out another belting cry of his own. He flicked a look back at me, as though making sure I was still attached to him. I was grinning like an idiot, laughing as I held on for dear life.
Suddenly there was another trumpeting roar directly to my right. It was so loud, and seemingly out of nowhere, that it startled me. I looked over, and couldn’t believe it. Felix and Nova were flying upside down right next to me, so close I could have reached out and grabbed his helmet if I wanted. He waved at me. I could hear him laughing, too, even over the rush of the wind.
Fledgling (The Dragonrider Chronicles) Page 7
