A good thirty feet of trail was cleared by that one stream of flame. When she let up, turning to me with a superior look, it took great restraint to not grin up at her. Instead, I nodded solemnly.
“Yes, you can do it. Can you do it all the way back to the village? Or should I do it?”
That mulish look descended again. “I do it.”
I spread my hands in a shrug. “Fine.”
When she turned her back to me and started clearing the next section of the trail, I caught Renard’s eye. He was about a second from bursting out laughing, judging from the grin on his face. I winked at him. I couldn’t let on that I was goading her. If, or when, Kaya figured it out, I was sure to get thumped for my teasing.
I followed along behind her, lifting any residual heat from the ground. It wasn’t necessary, as the ground was simply warm and not scorching, but I did it to reinforce the reputation we were building. I wasn’t blind to the opportunities that this moment had. Caravans travelled the world over. Making a good impression on just one caravan boss would open many doors down the road, as he was sure to tell this tale to anyone who’d listen.
It took roughly two hours to make it back to the town and Kaya’s control didn’t falter even once. We were within sight of the walls when the roads became clear again and she abruptly stopped right on the path, twisting her head to give me a smug, superior look.
I smiled back up at her. “All right, you did good.”
Satisfied with this acknowledgement, she gave me a regal nod.
Chapter Four: Training
We’d been sleeping at Hortin’s workshop, in a spare corner of his work area. Kaya still refused to let me out of her sight, especially if sleeping, so finding a way to accommodate her size was an interesting challenge. Fortunately, Hortin had a wide covered patio in the back of his shop, meant to keep the weather off his hides as they dried. Wrapped up in Kaya’s warm bulk, I stayed comfortable throughout the nights and slept like a dead man.
I woke up the following morning to Hortin announcing, “Your gear’s done.”
I blinked, trying to comprehend any spoken word before breakfast. When I thought I knew what he meant, I asked, “Already?”
“Actually had it finished last night. Put on a few finishing touches this morning. You’re ready to start training, kid.”
I didn’t take umbrage at his use of ‘kid’ as Hortin was almost three times my age. Beck was probably still a kid to him. Shaking my head a little, I dragged myself up and over to the kitchen table where breakfast lay.
So, the time had come to start training Kaya…well, that’d be fine if I knew how to go about it. Would training a dragon be anything like training a dragoo? A horse? A nreesce? Or would it be entirely different? How much could I talk her through this, and how much did I use simple training techniques? I had no doubt that she would pick everything up quickly if I explained it right.
“Kaya?” Hortin asked as he joined me at the table.
“Out hunting,” I answered, cutting a thick slab of cheese for myself.
“So, how are you going to train her?” he inquired, cutting a slice of his own.
“No idea,” I admitted morosely. “Trial and error, probably.”
His eyes crinkled up at the corners in a silent laugh. “Well, this should be entertaining.”
“For you,” I groused.
~*~
Trial and error was actually a very painful process.
At first, I didn’t see any room for improvement. The saddle and harness that Hortin had made for us was good craftsmanship and seemed very steady. The main saddle had a slopping pommel like a dragoo’s saddle would, and the saddle itself had been curved to where it would fit snugly against Kaya’s shoulders. The harness went around the base of her neck, under her arms and crisscrossed underneath before connecting to the back of the saddle, insuring that the saddle couldn’t slip either direction. I thought it marvelously sturdy until I got on Kaya’s back with it. She was so excited to have me on her back she launched into the air with no warning.
She went up in a beautiful arch.
I went down in a less graceful thud.
After Hortin made certain that I hadn’t broken anything (aside from my pride) he had a good, long laugh at my expense. Kaya landed with a slump, very remorseful for dumping me and moped the rest of the morning as we re-designed the saddle.
The problem was the saddle had nothing on the back of it to keep me in the seat when she did those powerful up-thrusts. If she did any sort of roll in the sky, I’d fall out from that movement as well, so we had to devise some way to keep me in the saddle no matter what she did.
Kaya remained very patient during this whole process. After that first disastrous try, she never went more than five feet above the ground (which was good, as I fell two more times) and would stand stock still while we were measuring things and trying different harnesses on her.
It took five days of experimenting, re-designing, and additions, but we finally came up with something that wouldn’t be so bulky that it would hinder her movements but would also keep me safely on her back. The new design had a back to it that I could rest against, a leather piece shaped like a V that went from the front pommel to the back, snapping in around the waist area. I could quickly unsnap it if need be, but otherwise it would keep me pinned down whenever she twisted or rolled. I also had two side steps attached to the front that I could either rest my feet on or would allow me to stand and quickly jump off.
I learned swiftly that regular clothes would not hold up to riding a dragon. I rapidly wore out the inseams of two pairs of pants. Whenever Kaya did any kind of side to side movement, I instinctively gripped tighter with my legs, which in turn wore out my pants.
I arranged with a woman to burn all of the weeds out of her flower bed and garden in order for her to make me a pair of leather riding pants. She was kind enough to make them for me overnight, fortunately, considering I only had one pair of pants left. I had to work out a separate deal to get a much thicker jacket made for me as well. I did little repairs around her house, things that her husband never seemed to have time to get to, and she gladly added a thick fleece lining into the jacket I already had. Her daughter even taught me how to braid hair, which helped significantly with the hair-in-face problem. It didn’t totally solve it, though. In fact, I had to go back to the same woman and charm her into making me a helmet that strapped in under my chin, just to contain my hair.
Remind me. The reason why I had this ridiculously long hair was…oh, for power control. Right.
When we finally had the saddle and harness right, I started to actually train Kaya. This entire time I had been directing her by voice, but that wouldn’t always work. If the wind were strong enough, or if we blundered into a storm, she wouldn’t be able to hear me.
This was where things got a little tricky.
There was one major difference between riding a horse and riding a dragon: elevation. I could apply some of the basic commands without a problem. Right, left, and forward were fairly standard. But you couldn’t tell a dragon to fly backwards, like you could reverse a horse. And I had to figure out a way to tell her that I wanted to fly at a particular height. I’d been in the air all of twice when these problems cropped up, and I had no instant solution to them.
Seriously. Where was a Life Mage when I needed one?
The only expert that I had on hand that understood flying was Kaya herself. I spent a full day teaching her the words she would need to know so that I could talk to her about this. After a day of flying and training and learning, we were both beyond tired, so I saved the actual conversation for the next day.
Then, after she came back from hunting her breakfast, we went to the outskirts of town and sat down, facing each other. Kaya lowered her head to where she was more on my level. I sat cross-legged comfortably on the stubby grass and thought about how to start this.
“Kaya. Do dragons fly together?”
She bobbed her head. “
Fly together. Most.”
Most of the time, eh? “So how do you know how high to fly? Do you just watch each other?”
Cocking her head slightly, she thought about it for a moment. “Some. One calls out too.”
My forehead wrinkled slightly as I tried to sort that one. “Someone in the group calls out the height?”
“Yes,” she confirmed. In demonstration, she lifted her head and let out a long, sonorous sound that reminded me of wind careening through a cavern. It sounded eerily beautiful.
“Hoooo.” I rubbed at my chin, turning this over in my mind. “I can’t make a sound like that, though. But you see that we need a way for me to tell you which height I want you to fly at?”
She blinked at me, giving me this look that said of course.
All right, that last had been a stupid question. I admit that. “How do you measure height?” Judging by that blank expression, I’d lost her. I put my palm flat on the ground, the other drawing a line in illustration. “We measure by hand’s length. See? One hand wide. Or one hand tall.”
Kaya let out a slow breath through her nose, the air warming up considerably for a second. She did that sometimes, when I asked her a question that she had to think about answering. “One flap,” she finally said, nodding in satisfaction of her own answer.
A flap? I hadn’t been in the air long enough to know exactly how much height that meant, but she did seem to be able to gain altitude quickly that way. “So if I say, two flaps, you know how high to go?”
“Do,” she assured me, ears perked.
“So can I tap you on the shoulder? Say, if I want to go up three flaps, I tap your shoulder three times?”
Her tail started thumping in excitement. Finally, we were on the same page. “Tap good,” she answered with keen interest. “Tap understand.”
“So how should I tell you when I want to go down a flap?” I couldn’t very well use the same signal for both.
She looked briefly frustrated, as if searching for a word. Finally she put her claws out and pawed the ground. “This.”
“Stroke,” I supplied.
“Yes. Good. Stroke flap.”
Seemed simple enough to me. In theory at least. “You will remember this?”
I got that of course look again, the one that made me feel like an idiot for even asking. “Right, of course.” We spent another hour or so going through various possibilities and situations, working out signals for them, and so on. I did jot all of them down, too, afraid I wouldn’t remember them all otherwise. But when I couldn’t think of anything else to plan out, I climbed to my feet.
“Shall we try?”
She stayed very still until as I climbed on and strapped into place. Then, using the same caution she had for the past few takeoffs, she launched slowly into the air. I directed her with just the bar and reigns at first, nonverbally reminding her of the earlier lessons, and only then did I implement the new part of signaling elevation. We went up and down several times, banking and flying circles around the town, never too far away. But my caution in staying nearby proved unnecessary. Kaya had it after those first few demonstrations.
Her incredible memory fastened onto it and she never made a mistake after that.
We had spectators during this whole process, as the entire town was curious as to what we were doing. Everyone had either comments or suggestions to offer, usually over dinner, as that was the only time Kaya and I really sat still. Some of the suggestions weren’t very practical, but some of them were. One woman devised pouches that would attach to the front and back of the saddle that I could put equipment and supplies into. The blacksmith devised a type of ladder that could be incorporated into the side harness that looked decorative but still very functional. Some nights, I had more help than I knew what to do with, but it was all given with good intentions.
It was late into our third week in town, at Beck’s dinner table, when the mirror broach in my pocket started squawking.
“Krys! Krys, where are you?”
I dug it out hastily, recognizing Chatta’s voice. “Here. Something wrong?”
“Wrong? You were supposed to be home already. What’s going on? Where are you?”
Oh. Whoops. I’d forgotten to call home and update them. “Er…I kind of stopped at the border of Sol…”
“Why in great magic would you do that?”
“Well…” I ignored the rest of the people around the table who were unabashedly listening in and told her the story.
“Ah. Well, we were worried that something had gone wrong, but it sounds like just the opposite happened. Hmm. So Kaya is ready to ride?”
“Ready isn’t the right word,” I assured her wryly. “Dying to be ridden is a better way to put it.”
“Then, are you ready to get to work?”
That didn’t sound like a casual question. I straightened slightly in my chair. “Yes. Why? Did an offer come in?”
“The city of Mellor in Osmar has sent us an urgent request. They have a brush fire that has gone out of control and they need help subduing it. The offer is actually for the whole season, as they are apparently worried that this won’t be an isolated incident. They requested three witches or wizards, but…”
“But I’m more effective,” I finished for her. “Fine, we’re on our way.”
“They need a response on when you can go.”
“I don’t really want to fly at night, not until Kaya and I get used to navigating from above. I’m not really sure how fast we can get there. If we leave in the morning, I think we can be there by noon or so.” Judging from the short flying stints I’d taken with Kaya, she traveled much faster than a horse at full speed, and it would take a galloping stallion a good solid day to get to Mellor from here. “Say tomorrow afternoon, just to be safe.”
“I will. Travel safe, Krys. And keep us updated!”
“Yes, Mom,” I teased.
I heard a mutter about “men” and “never communicate like they should” before the connection died. When I looked up at the table’s occupants, Beck gave me an understanding smile.
“Duty calls, eh?”
I nodded, going back to my cooling dinner. “Yes, it seems it does.”
Chapter Five: Mellor
I found it a little hard to leave early the next morning. The townspeople had been good to us, taking us in like a pair of odd siblings, and it felt like we were leaving home. I had all sorts of people running up and stashing this and that into my packs. Kaya had to say goodbye to every single person before being willing to leave.
Beck gave me a letter of recommendation, in case I needed it, and Hortin handed me a small sewing kit in case I needed to make any harness repairs, and both wished us luck. My chest felt a little tight when I finally climbed onto Kaya’s back and strapped in.
With a last wave at everyone, we launched into the air and took to the cool morning skies.
I was grateful for my riding leathers as the air had a definite nip to it. Even through the saddle, Kaya’s heat radiated upwards, keeping the lower half of me warmer. The upper half had only a thick jacket, a scarf and a helmet to combat the wind. My eyes quickly dried out from the air constantly whipping around my face. I definitely needed to invest in some goggles. I fell to squinting or looking down at the ground most of the time to help ease the strain on my eyes. The ride itself felt remarkably smooth. Kaya apparently had a certain speed she used for longer trips, as she didn’t flap her wings a lot, just did so in a steady rhythm that kept us going at a good clip. Every time she pumped her wings, I would rock forward and upward ever so slightly, but it never felt jarring. In fact, it felt like riding a small ocean wave.
I pointed Kaya west, heading for Osmar, and tried to reconcile the landscape I saw to the map in my hands. It all looked so different from up here…sometimes, I wasn’t sure if we were heading in the right direction.
The thick, dark smoke hovering on the horizon proved we were.
I’d never seen a skyline that dirty. Not a tr
ace of white or blue could be seen, just billowing great clouds of dark grey soot, seeming to go on for miles. The smell of it came in long before we ever reached the clouds, too, the sweetly cloying scent of smoke. I saw the fire underneath those dark grey clouds, but had no idea which part we needed to subdue first. Some of this could be farmland, other parts heading for the town. I needed information before we started working.
Mellor was a sizeable town, almost large enough to be considered a city in its own right. It was laid out with military precision, as everything was in Sol. Still, because of the raging fires and the thick smoke, I could barely see it. Only glimpses came through, now and again, barely enough to serve as a landmark.
We came in lower, more toward the city, looking for a clear place to land. Everyone seemed to be out on the streets, running in different directions with children, packages, or buckets of water in hand. The noise from below almost seemed deafening as people called out frantically to each other, shoes and hooves and wagon wheels clattering against the stone roads, all of it accompanied by the snap and crackle of the fire lurking outside of the city. I finally spied a clear area on the dock of a sizeable lake that looked promising. I steered Kaya toward it, keeping an eye on the activity below. Chatta hadn’t told me who had precisely asked for help, or who to contact, which left me uncertain on who to approach. I didn’t want to waste time waiting on some bureaucratic process when I could be out helping.
Busted buckets. Down below, I could see guards scurrying about, running toward the area we planned to land in. Hadn’t they gotten the letter explaining…? Obviously not.
Kaya banked a little and then back flapped twice, setting down to earth gently. She’d barely settled before I threw a leg over her neck and dropped to the ground. I had to explain things quickly before some hotshot decided to take a stab at her.
Dragon's Mage (An Advent Mage Novel), The - Raconteur, Honor Page 6
