Silver Batal and the Water Dragon Races

by K. D. Halbrook

  Outside, madness reigned. Silver pushed and shoved for many minutes to get to one of the circular stone overlooks, and from there to the staircase that would take her to the family workshop.

  Halfway down one set of stairs, she tripped over a sack someone had left on a step. Her body went weightless, shooting into the air, flying down three steps, then toppling head over heels down seven more before landing in a heap. Hands reached for her, trying to help her to her feet. She batted them away and pushed herself to her knees to inspect the damage. Bruises would blossom on her back and legs by the end of the day, she knew. But what she was most worried about was the tear all the way across the bottom seam of her mother’s caftan.

  She got to her feet, her bones protesting every move. A slow drumbeat of pain began in the back of her head, matching the rhythm of the celebration drums that were being played on the higher levels.

  “I think this is yours?” a man said, holding out one of the gold combs.

  “Thank you,” Silver said. She tucked it back into her hair. It didn’t matter if it was crooked. She had to get to the workshop before Sagittaria Wonder. A cry went up from the crowds spilling out over the perimeter of the city and the deep desert. Queen Imea and her retinue had arrived.

  The Batal workshop wasn’t far. But not only was the caftan torn; it was covered in dust. The vibrant red now looked flat like jaspers instead of brilliant like rubies.

  The crowds began to thin out as people returned to their workshops or storerooms or vendor stalls to put the final touches on their wares. Silver went to another overlook and squinted at the little figures far below. She could make out the white robes of the politicians shaking hands with the visitors. About halfway back in the line of traders and merchants was a vibrant-blue cart, its top and sides curtained with what was no doubt a finer silk than her mother’s caftan. At the front of the cart, a silver dragon’s-head carving glinted in the high sunlight.

  Sagittaria Wonder.

  The greatest water dragon racer that had ever lived. Silver forgot her aches and pains. She rushed into her father’s workshop with a thrumming excitement in her chest.

  “Silver! Are you all right?” Rami Batal gaped at her. “What happened to you?”

  Silver wiped her nose. The back of her hand came away with smears of blood. “The crowds. And the stairs.”

  “Never mind. There’s no time.” Her father sighed. “Phila, can you help clean her up? Take this brooch and pin it to her caftan. That should hide the tear.”

  Phila grumbled but walked over. Silver knew that she must resent that Silver was here at all. Phila was the most gifted of the ele-jewelers and had earned her spot while Silver was just … her father’s daughter.

  Silver had never seen her father so flustered before. He fumbled his words as he gave more directions to the other ele-jewelers.

  “Put the gold pieces … No, let’s group them by gemstone … Oh, but the mixed gem pieces. By size. Try that. No, some of the finest are the smaller ones. They’ll get lost that way. Go back to separating them by metal … I don’t like that, either.” He faced his daughter again. “Finish getting cleaned up. I need you to model a few things.”

  “Model?” Silver yelped. “But I thought I’d stay out of the way…” She pointed to the dark, safe corner where she was planning to sit and watch, gathering her courage until she could approach Sagittaria Wonder and reveal her suit.

  “My work looks best when it’s worn. And who better to model it than the future of the Batal jewelers? Silver, you must appear graceful. Be still and be silent. Let the jewels speak, not you.”

  Silence was not going to be difficult. Silver’s face burned with humiliation. It was one thing to observe: There was respect in that. It showed that she was an eager and honored student. But to stand there like a mindless showpiece?

  Still, there was no time to argue. Her father turned away, and Phila dragged Silver to a basin of water to make her presentable.

  Phila curled her lip as she wiped at the dusty caftan. “My parents would be disgraced if I ran around like a filthy herd animal.”

  “I’m sure your parents are already disgraced to have a daughter who looks like she’s constantly smelling herd-animal dung. Ow!”

  Phila had poked the brooch right through the caftan into Silver’s shin. Luckily, the tightly woven wool of the riding suit had shielded her. Silver growled.

  “Silent, remember?” Phila smirked.

  Silver had never hated her more, but she held still as Phila fixed the caftan as best she could. “There,” Phila said. “You’re not beautiful, but at least you don’t look like you slept in the streets last night.”

  “Much better,” Silver’s father said when she approached him. He pulled away her scarves. Silver hoped the caftan was still covering the neckline of the suit.

  “Gold,” he barked to his assistants. “Blue sapphires and those emerald bracelets. To create contrast with the red silk. I’ll take these.” Rami pulled the combs out of Silver’s hair and replaced them with a heavy headpiece dripping with gems and artistically twisted precious metals. After only a few moments, her neck ached with the strain of keeping her chin high under all the weight.

  With a heavily beating heart, Silver looked to the workshop entrance. How much longer until Sagittaria Wonder came through that door?

  Thick necklaces went around her collarbone, and thin, delicate chains hung all the way down to her stomach. Every finger was stacked with rings. Her father went to place a bracelet on her wrist but hesitated at the sight of the burn. The whole workshop seemed to pause for a beat as an unspoken understanding passed between father and daughter: No matter what happened today, things were going to change.

  Rami slipped the bracelet on and followed it up with more glimmering cuffs and chains.

  A thunderous boom sounded outside the door, and Rami pulled Silver through the curtains and to the center of the showroom.

  “Places, everyone,” he said.

  Sagittaria Wonder and the royals had arrived.

  And with them, Silver’s future.

  NINE

  Sometimes, when the Jaspatonian night was very clear and the winds were slumbering, Silver would slip out of her house and climb the stairs to the very top of the cliffs, and watch the moon blink down on the world. The orb always seemed so big, so close. Like she could reach out and steal a bit of its shine, or pluck a strand of platinum moonlight and wrap it all around herself, so that she could be as beautiful as the stars.

  That was, Silver felt certain, what Queen Imea must have done.

  The royal leader of all the deserts swept into Rami Batal’s showroom like a moonbeam. She was younger than Silver’s mother, having been plucked from the mountainous north by the mysterious soothsayers of Calidia and instated as queen when she was only nineteen, but her hair was gray, glittering down her back to sway at her waist. Her big, dark eyes and luminous, tawny-brown skin were accented by yards and yards of the silver-embroidered purple silk of her caftan. Diamonds glittered across her throat and from her ears.

  Queen Imea lifted her caftan to step into the showroom, and Silver saw that she wore soft silk slippers and amethyst-dotted gold chains around her ankles. The queen smiled at everyone as she shook hands with Silver’s father and the lowly ele-jewelers.

  Her husband, the king regent, followed, nodding but not shaking hands. He was tall and somber-faced and dressed more simply, in a white robe like all the politicians had, and wearing no jewelry.

  But Silver strained her eyes to see past the royals and their entourage. They were not the ones that excited her. No, that would be … after several traders and servants … a few more … there! Sagittaria Wonder.

  Silver sucked in a quick breath. She would recognize her idol anywhere. The description a trader had once given her wasn’t entirely accurate—Sagittaria Wonder’s nose was much longer, and her amber eyes were set farther apart—but there was something about the way she walked—no, strode—that drew Silver�
��s gaze to her. She was confident. Slim and taut. She didn’t hide her muscles behind layers and layers of clothing. Instead, her leather pants and woven tunic clung to her. She looked ready to saddle up and take a water dragon into a race.

  Queen Imea approached Silver. “Hello, child.”

  Silver tore her eyes from Sagittaria Wonder, straightened her back, and smiled. The queen’s face was open and mild—fresh, as though she hadn’t just been out in the desert at all. There was a spark in her eye that conveyed interest. Not only in the jewels, but in Silver herself.

  Queen Imea reached out to touch a necklace. “Did you make any of these yourself?”

  “No.” Silver’s voice was barely more than a squeak. She wished she could have told the queen yes, that she had helped with the racing cup. Silver tried to clear her throat but managed only to change the squeak to a squawk. “I’m still learning. But my father did.”

  “Ah, you’re his daughter? I’d wager my kingdom that one day you’ll have just as much talent as he does.” The queen leaned very close and whispered, “Probably more.” When Queen Imea straightened up again, she winked.

  “I hope so.” Silver smiled weakly. The royal obviously didn’t love her kingdom enough if she would bet on that.

  The queen smiled again, then focused on the jewelry, gently lifting several pieces off Silver and inspecting the work displayed on the tables and velvet cushions in other parts of the showroom. With each piece the queen admired, Rami Batal’s chest puffed up bigger and bigger until Silver had to push down a laugh.

  Sagittaria Wonder was tucked into the far corner. The racer’s arms were folded across her chest as she watched everyone barter and laugh, eat and drink.

  Phila came to drape new pieces across Silver’s neck while Rami held up a pair of dangling gold earrings and described them in rapturous detail to Queen Imea.

  “The queen hasn’t noticed my designs yet,” Phila said.

  “She has good taste, then,” Silver said. “She’s nice, too.”

  Silver winced. She was sure that Phila had pinched her skin between the necklace clasp on purpose.

  “She’ll want to ply you with sweetness so that she gets favorable prices from you,” Phila said, shaking her head. “You’re too gullible.”

  Silver’s face burned. The queen was treating everyone in the shop with respect. Wasn’t that just how everyone interacted with others? Not Phila, though. Basic kindness was not a thing she would understand. Silver looked over Phila’s shoulder. The people in the showroom—all the other ele-jewelers, the queen’s people, even Gama—were swarming around Silver like gnats, blocking her view of Sagittaria Wonder.

  When the royal group had finally had enough, Queen Imea clapped her hands. “I am delighted at what I’ve seen.”

  But still, her eyes roamed the shop, as though hoping for something more. Rami Batal seemed to understand. It was the moment he’d been waiting for. Desert beetles flip-flopped in Silver’s chest. Although it wasn’t her own dream, she still wanted her father to amaze the queen.

  He chuckled and pulled a plain wood box off a table against the wall. “Word reached me that you are in the market for a great masterpiece. Jewels that will come to symbolize your perfect reign.” He opened the box, and even Silver felt compelled to take a few steps closer and crane her neck. Inside, the most dazzling loose jewels glittered beside a piece of parchment. “Here is a project I am embarking on. A scepter. I feel it will be the grandest thing I ever create.”

  “How wonderful!” the queen said. “It never does to show all our secrets right away, now does it?” She leaned in close and winked at Silver’s father. “Oh, I love when the final card is played on the table. I play all my games that way, too. Politics is dreadfully boring, otherwise.” She stood upright again and clasped her hands. “How long until I can hold this masterpiece?”

  “I have found half the jewels I need,” Rami said, beaming. “Each one must be a perfect example of what a jewel can be. I hope to have the rest in the next year or two.”

  Queen Imea dragged a finger over the sketch on the parchment. “That’s a shame. In a few days, Calidia hosts the Desert Nations Autumn Festival. Six months later, our desert racers will win glory in the finals at the Island Nations Spring Festival. Wouldn’t it be a symbol of our land’s prosperity to take this piece with me come spring?”

  “Six months? I … I’ve spent half my life finding these jewels,” Silver’s father stammered.

  Queen Imea didn’t comment further, but her smile faded. A few of her retinue began moving toward the showroom door. Silver nervously plucked at the neckline of her mother’s caftan.

  Her father swallowed slowly. “I will scour the lands to make it so. It will be done.”

  The queen’s smile lit up her face. “I will send my guard for my other pieces in two weeks. I will come, myself, three weeks before the Spring Festival so that I may personally carry this scepter with me when I set sail to the Island Nations.”

  Silver knew there would be many sleepless nights for her father in the weeks to come. But she wouldn’t be there for them.

  “I believe Sagittaria Wonder would like a word with you,” the queen said to Rami. She waved over the dragon rider, then left the showroom flanked by her retinue so that only Sagittaria remained.

  Her heart thudding loudly, Silver stepped away from the center of the room, pulling off rings and depositing them on a cushion. Her breath quickened, and the patterns in the thick rugs at her feet began to spin.

  Silver’s father retrieved the race cup he’d been saving for that moment. All the dents and dings that Silver had put in it were once again smoothed out. Her father must have worked all night to fix her mess. “I saved my finest gold for you—”

  “I’ll judge that for myself,” Sagittaria Wonder said, arching an eyebrow.

  She looked around the showroom. Her eyes swept over Silver and kept moving, as though Silver weren’t there.

  You will notice me, Silver thought, carefully lifting the massive headdress from her hair. There were no other empty cushions, so she set the piece on a red-and-black stool.

  “I’m not sure gold is the right material for this cup, after all,” Sagittaria said. “I have a man in Calidia making me a piece out of crystal. It’s beautiful. Turns to rainbows when the light hits it.”

  Rami looked nervous. “Of course, but there is nothing like the rich warmth of gold. It is the sun itself.”

  “We get enough sun in the desert.”

  Silver paused at the bracelet over her burn. She didn’t understand why Sagittaria was being so curt. This wasn’t how she had imagined the racer.

  Silver pressed her thumb to the wound to remind herself to focus. She was so close.

  “If you like, we can set any number of gemstones in the metal,” Rami said quickly. “Unlike a crystal piece, our rainbow would be permanent. It would shine in even the darkest room.”

  Sagittaria sighed. She reached into her bag and pulled forth a pouch of coins. A piece of parchment fluttered to the ground at Silver’s feet. “Here is a deposit for the cup. I’ll have the queen’s guard collect it when they come for her pieces.”

  Rami Batal’s lips were pale. Payment matters were handled privately, not in front of everyone in the showroom. Sagittaria’s manners were lacking. A Calidian trait, no doubt, Silver thought. She silently vowed to never let the city change her good breeding.

  “It will be ready to astound you,” her father said.

  Sagittaria Wonder turned away to leave.

  This was it. Silver’s one chance to impress Sagittaria.

  “Wait! Sagittaria Wonder!” Her hands shook as she unbuttoned the caftan.

  Sagittaria turned, her gaze sharpening as if seeing Silver for the first time.

  “Silver!” her father cried out.

  “I have something that will astound you now.” She sidestepped her father’s grasping hands.

  Silver let the silk caftan drift to the floor and tore off the rema
ining bracelets. They fell with a clang.

  She stood there clad in her riding suit. “It’s the finest wool you’ve ever seen. Thin but warm. Water-resistant. The scale pattern decreases wind drag. The glove linings increase grip. The…”

  As Sagittaria Wonder walked toward her—three, four, five slow steps—Silver forgot the lines she’d rehearsed so many times. The water dragon racer pinched a piece of the shoulder of the suit between her fingers.

  “What an interesting pattern,” she said in a low voice. Her eyes flashed from their shadowy depths. “Who taught you how to do this?”

  “I invented it myself.” Silver didn’t know why she lied, but there was something about the way Sagittaria’s eyes looked through her, instead of at her.

  “A girl with great ambition.” Sagittaria dropped the wool and stepped back. Her lip curled. “I know an important little bit about fiber arts techniques. And a lot about riding suits. This is a mess. The construction is too unwieldy for riding. There’s no padding in the seat. It looks like…” She smiled slowly. Cruelly. “Like a child made it.”

  Silver went cold, as though she’d been wandering all night in a vast desert winter.

  “It’s just a prototype,” she whispered.

  “Well, I have no use for it.”

  Silver looked down. The parchment that Sagittaria had dropped was still at her feet. Silver picked it up and held it out to the water dragon racer, her hands trembling.

  “Keep it,” Sagittaria said, shaking her head. “It’s just an advertisement for the races. Give it to the one who taught you this pattern.”

  Sagittaria Wonder spun on her heel. The rider disappeared out the door, Silver’s dreams following her like the last wisps of a snuffed lantern. Silver stood staring at the empty doorway.

  Rami Batal gaped at her, his forehead as red as pickled onions.

  “Are you mad?” he whispered. “What were you thinking? Have you forgotten who you are? You are a Batal. You are—were—the heir to this work.”