Dragon School: Pipe of Wings

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  Sure. He should probably rest. I didn’t know how I would sleep, though. If only there was some sort of good news to counter all the bad news.

  I can help with that.

  What could he possibly know that I didn’t know?

  I know that Jalla left that Pipe in my saddle bags.

  I gasped, reaching into them as he settled us down on the hilltop. Just as Raolcan said, the Pipe was there.

  See? Now, do what you promised and stop worrying so I can get some sleep.

  I unloaded him in a trance. We had the Pipe. Us! I could spend the next few days trying to figure it out instead of Jalla. A grin spread over my face as I pictured her expression when she realized that I had it. Of course, owning an entire kingdom was significantly more important. And she owned me, too, but...

  Sleep!

  I crawled under his wing, rolled out my bedroll, curled around the Pipe, and promptly fell asleep. Was it my imagination, or had I heard wings flapping in my mind as I fell asleep?

  Chapter Seven

  We reached the ocean the next day while I was still chewing on dried meat for breakfast and rubbing my eyes. I hadn’t realized we were so close.

  No point sticking to the land when we can fly. Just a hop and a flap and we’ll be at the Ruby Isles. I seem to remember having fond memories of that place...

  It was probably all the molten honey I’d snuck him while we were there.

  Ah yes! The honey! It tastes slightly salty there, like a hint of the sea was captured within it.

  I ignored his honey reminisces as we soared out over the sea. Raolcan flew so close to the mirrored surface that his feet and the tip of his tail sometimes skimmed the waves. I enjoyed the slight spray that created – finally something cool instead of the land of heat and dust.

  I turned the Pipe over and over in my hands, studying the writing – which I couldn’t read – and the strange arm along the side of it. I wasn’t musical. When I thought about it, it was amazing that I’d made a tune come at all. I played with the arm, moving it gently and checking to see if anything moved or clicked within the instrument when it was adjusted. It was hard to tell. The arm moved smoothly, but it was like the Kah’deem had been – it skittered from my view when I tried to focus on it. There was no flop or give to the arm or the pipe, no moving parts except for the arm. There were strange little figures that seemed to swirl between the words carved into the Pipe shaft – almost as if the artist had taken the time to work in depictions of small winged beetles crawling along the length of the Pipe.

  If only I knew what it did. I had been far too tired when I blew it to grasp what was happening.

  It wouldn’t have mattered. No one really knew.

  There had been a wind, I thought.

  Yes, a wind. And so much dust that it obscured everything.

  But was the dust from the wind, or the Ifrits, or part of what the Pipe did?

  No way to tell except to test.

  I swallowed. I didn’t like the idea of blowing it again without knowing what it did. What if Raolcan turned to dust and blew away like the Ifrits did?

  I assure you, I am no Ifrit.

  Of course not, but the point was that we had no idea what it did. And what was the point of the bugs on the pipe shaft? There had been an insect on the Kah’deem that held the Pipe as well. Had there been any insects when I blew it before?

  I have a faint memory of wings – but I’ll admit I was distracted by the thought of my friends dying.

  I held up the pipe and thought of blowing it, sweat beading on my forehead and my mouth growing dry at the thought. I licked my lips. I was going to do it eventually, wasn’t I? So, it might as well be now. After all, if I didn’t know what it did, I couldn’t use it.

  It might not work for you. It didn’t work for Jalla.

  But it would work for me. I knew as surely as I knew it when I raised it to my lips the first time. All I had to do was try ...

  I raised the pipe to my lips, took a deep breath and blew a note, moving the arm slightly as I blew. It gave the sound a warbling inflection. The breeze around us swirled.

  I tried again, playing a different note. This time, a spray of water kicked up, swirling around us and then dissipating as the breeze blew it away. So, maybe it didn’t work for me, either. Maybe Jalla was right and it would only work once. I brought out the water and took a sip before returning to my study of the Pipe. Maybe if I tried a different note.

  I tried again, playing one note after another rapidly. Wind swirled around us, but not in the power it would take to destroy anything. My brows knit in confusion and then, out of nowhere, Raolcan began to buck and heave, flapping madly to gain height over the rising waves. Color filled the sky and blocked my vision, I swatted at the air before my eyes to clear a swath of it.

  Hold on!

  We rose quickly up through the air, Raolcan’s mighty flaps bringing us higher until we were finally clear of the cloud of flapping, muffling, suffocating wings.

  Butterflies!

  I could see them now that we were above them. A swarm of butterflies filled the tumultuous air beneath is in a cloud so large it could have covered a city. Where had they come from? They swirled in ripples of orange and yellow weaving in and out of each other’s paths.

  They migrate over the ocean.

  But all at once? In a massive cloud? How had they all arrived so fast?

  I think you know what that Pipe of Wings does. It calls up winds and insects.

  I didn’t remember butterflies being at the Kah’deem.

  I think it just calls whatever is nearby, drawing them undeniably to itself.

  That wasn’t much of a weapon.

  Isn’t it? We barely clawed our way out of that cloud of them. I couldn’t see. We could have drowned under a cloud of gossamer color. Imagine what it could do with locusts.

  Eat up clouds of dust?

  Precisely.

  Mosquitoes could get interesting. Or June bugs. I shivered.

  Or wasps. We had a story when I was a hatchling called “The Lame Piper.” There was a man, lame in both legs, but possessing the most amazing of instruments. When he played the pipe, it made a sound that filled the world – a sound so magical that it was irresistible. But not irresistible to just anything, but only to dogs. They would come and he would ride them through the countryside.

  Well, one day, there was a pack of wolves coming into the town and they were stealing sheep and rabbits and whatever else it was that mattered to the townspeople. So, they sent word for the Piper and when he came, he blew his pipe and all the wolves left the town. But the children of the town were spoiled and they mocked the lame piper because he rode on the backs of dogs, so he turned around and sent the wolves back. They tore the town to shreds and no a single person survived. The end.

  The end? What a terrible story! Why would it end there?

  It’s a warning.

  Not to trust people who ride dogs?

  Not to be an ungrateful little foot-eater.

  I tucked the Pipe carefully back into the bag. Next time I used it, I’d better have a good reason to try it.

  I second that.

  Chapter Eight

  Raolcan had been right about it being a short journey to the Ruby Isles.

  I’m always right.

  It was long past midnight when we found them - the familiar landscape of tall totems on rocky isles bringing back memories of my time there training. Tiny lights outlined the landscape as they had then – but there were patches missing as if huge chunks of the islands hadn’t bothered to light their watch fires or the small lights they usually hung between the platforms and ledges that formed the island cities.

  Best to set down on one of the cliffs. We can see more in the morning.

  He was right, of course, but worry filled me as we found a familiar cliffside – the very same one where we had regrouped after Savette was kidnapped – and settled into sleep. I unloaded Raolcan with care, not wanting to disturb the
Pipe. Almost a full day since calling up the butterflies made me feel like I had overreacted to them, but I didn’t want to accidentally call up something greater.

  Trust me. That was no overreaction. There is power in that little pipe.

  I ate dried meat for dinner, slipping a few pieces to Raolcan who claimed to still be full from the sheep – was it crazy to hope there might be real food in the chalets below tomorrow morning? – and fell into a fitful sleep. Worry laced my last thoughts as I slipped into sleep – and right into Leng’s mind.

  “Pasca will be their contact in Dominion City,” Hubric was saying to Leng. I felt a burst of joy at seeing him alive. After Haskell, I’d been worried he wouldn’t survive either. “He has been organizing the Lightbringers. There weren’t many true Lightbringers still alive, but people are flocking to join the cause. The Dusk Covenant hasn’t been making friends in the twin sky cities. I think you’ll find the help you need.”

  “And do you really think any Lightbringers have survived in the north?” Leng asked. “With battles raging as far north as the Ruby Isles, there can’t be many survivors north of here.”

  “We had some strongholds. All we can do is hope.” He looked worn, twisting and untwisting a scarf in his hands. It was purple with silver flowers stitched across it.

  Leng reached out a hand and clapped him on the shoulder. “Maybe in the north—“

  Hubric shook his head. “I don’t dare to hope for that. There’s been no word from the Dark Prince or Amel. If she survived the journey ... well, she cares about us. She was a loyal, faithful girl. She wouldn’t have left us guessing.”

  Leng pulled his hand away like he’d been bitten. “There are other reasons she might not have returned. Perhaps she is needed there.”

  “More than here?” Hubric’s tone was gentle, like he was trying not to break Leng.

  I watched as my – Leng’s – hands moved to grip his knees. His knuckles were white – as if he was channeling all his worry into their grip.

  “We don’t know, Hubric. And until we do ... Amel is strong and Raolcan will fight to the death for her.”

  I woke with a start, turning in my bedroll. There wasn’t a comfortable place on this hard rock and there was no way I was going to go back to sleep. I sat up, my eyes blurry with unshed tears. They thought I was dead because I hadn’t returned. I should be leaving this morning to find them. I shouldn’t even be thinking of obeying Jalla.

  They still need Jalla and her forces. A few Lightbringers in various cities aren’t enough to end the war. Not even if more people are joining daily.

  He saw that?

  I see all your visions now.

  But if I listened to Jalla, it would be weeks or months until I saw them again. There had to be a way to keep her on our side and still fly south to find them. I twisted my own scarf back and forth, thinking of Rakturan and Jalla, of whether her clumsy lie about the water was true, and of if it even mattered compared to returning to help my friends.

  Hubric was heading north. Perhaps, he may travel as far north as here.

  Through all those cities ravaged by war? No. He’d stop to help people. By the time he made it this far north, Jalla would be here, too. I either needed to fly south and find him or to find an answer to my Jalla problem before then.

  Perhaps there are Lightbringers in the Ruby Isles who could help you.

  Now, that was the first sensible thought we’d had!

  Well, it’s hardly the first. I was thinking that perhaps one of Leng’s friends from Vanika might be a good choice.

  I hadn’t liked them at all. No, we’d fly into the city at dawn and find a Lightbringer and see if they could help us hoodwink Jalla and save the Dominion! I smiled at the idea of returning to Jalla with a whole group of like-minded Dragon Riders.

  There was a snap of a branch and Raolcan snarled. I grabbed for my crutch, fumbling in the dark, when a foot stepped on my hand.

  “Stop.” That voice was so familiar. Feminine but sharp. Something about it irritated me. “Bring the lantern!”

  There was a flurry of footsteps and then a lantern was unshuttered and light spilled over me splayed over the ground and Raolcan crouched in an attack position.

  “No need for flames, Raolcan,” the woman said in her clear, frustratingly confident voice. “You’re outnumbered anyway.”

  Wings flapped suddenly as two dragons rose behind her. The sun was coming up and it was easy to see the green of their scales in the morning light. I looked back at my captor.

  “Ephretti,” I said. “Just the woman I was looking for.”

  Not quite. But she would have to do.

  See? I told you she’d be a good fit.

  Chapter Nine

  I looked back and forth between Ephretti – arms crossed and a determined set on her face – and Lenora who was holding the lantern – complete surprise forming her mouth into a perfect “o.”

  Ephretti moved her foot off of my hand and I grabbed my crutch, scrambling up so I could meet her eye to eye. Last time I’d seen her, she was the Dragon Rider and I was nothing more than an Initiate. I couldn’t let her get the first word in or she would push me around.

  We spoke at the exact same moment. “You need to come with me.”

  Ephretti frowned. “I hardly think I’ll be following you, Initiate.”

  “I’m a Color now,” I said, pushing my shoulders back and standing as straight as I could with a crutch under one arm.

  Ephretti waved a hand like it didn’t matter. “Whatever that means now. I know you haven’t been properly trained. I know that you haven’t passed the proper-”

  “Ashana Willowspring gave me my first scarf.” I objected.

  Ephretti sighed dramatically. “Amel, I won’t argue with you. Where is Leng? Is he with you?”

  I felt my face heating, remembering the way she looked at Leng last time I saw her. She was looking at me expectantly like she was owed an explanation. I gritted my teeth. Why did that rub me the wrong way so badly? It wouldn’t hurt anything to tell her, but I found that I suddenly wanted to keep anything about him to myself. A sudden longing filled me. I needed to get back to Baojang and sort out Jalla’s situation so I could return and find Leng.

  Are you sure that is why you are longing to return to Baojng? Maybe you should take a sip of water.

  “I was sent here by the Winged Prince of Baojang to find a reliable Dragon Rider,” I said, rummaging in the baggage for the waterskins. “Baojang marches to help us overthrow the Dusk Covenant and the Ifrit invaders, but they require Dragon Riders to help them.”

  “Baojang?” Lenora asked. “But they are the ones who attacked the southern cities. And they half-demolished the Ruby Isles!”

  She flung a hand out toward where the dawn was creeping over the sleeping island. Outlined in the gild of morning, I could see what she meant. I gasped at the sight of broken Asha poles and ruined buildings. Where there were once chalets, bridges, and boardwalks there was now heaps of broken wood as if an Iftit had bit the island, his teeth tearing right through it.

  “Which is why we don’t ally with them. We fight them. And we start by striking the heart of the enemy’s power,” Ephretti said, her eyes narrowing.

  I couldn’t agree more. “We can’t just do that without a plan.”

  “I have a plan,” Ephretti’s tone was full of frustration. “But I need help. Lenora and I can’t just do it alone.”

  “Well, of course not. We need the southern and western armies, help from Haz’drazen and as many of the Lightbringers as we can find,” I said. Maybe she would see sense. “We need the armies of Baojang to swoop down so we can catch the enemy in a huge pincher maneuver and squeeze. But we have to make sure that we aren’t left so vulnerable that Baojang takes over the Dominion afterward.”

  “No,” Ephretti said and I could have sworn her face was darker with her irritation at me. She took a step closer so that all I could see was her face right in front of me in the harsh light of the
rising sun. “We need to go to the Healing Arches south of here and stop what they are doing. They’re pulling demons out of the ground there, Amel and they are overrunning our country. Demons! They’re made of dust.”

  “One Ifrit outbreak is bad, but you’re talking about a small piece of the puzzle. I’m saying that we need to focus on the whole picture!” I stepped closer, too, our gazes locked on one another. This was too important for distractions. Here she was – the perfect person for the job! – and she was talking about a tiny Ifrit outbreak where we needed to deal with the whole problem.

  “Enough!” Lenora’s shout from beside us made us both jump. I scrambled back a step, barely catching myself as my crutch skittered on the slick rock of the cliff. “Can’t you hear each other? You’re saying the exact same thing!”

  I took a deep breath. Maybe she was right. We both wanted to fight our enemies. We both wanted to see the Dominion free again. She’d said the Ifrits were just south of here. Fine. We could sweep up that problem and then move on to bigger things.

  “If I go with you to deal with this Ifrit threat at the healing arches, will you go with me back to Baojang to serve the Winged Prince?” I asked.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Ephretti said. “I won’t take orders from a trainee.”

  “Not even for the Dominion? Baojang is coming, one way or another. They have asked for Dragon Riders. If we are there right now, we can influence their leader so that she doesn’t take over the Dominion for herself – which she is planning to do. If we aren’t there, then this war against the Dusk Covenant and the Ifrits might be won, but the Dominion will be destroyed forever.”

  Ephretti swallowed, looking away. Was she taking me seriously?

  “Baojang has many Princes. They’ve never had just one.”

  “They do now.”

  “Did someone obtain an Artifact?”

  “Yes.” Good. She was thinking, finally!

  “Did Baojang unite under this leader?”