Silver Batal and the Water Dragon Races

by K. D. Halbrook

  “He does everything I do,” Silver said.

  “Yes, he does,” Nebekker said. “What did you expect with your bond?”

  “Our bond?”

  Nebekker sighed again and waved them over. She unwrapped the paper. Inside was a selection of dried meats. She placed a small handful in the boiling water, then put the rest on the ground. She whistled, but the water dragon hesitated and looked at Silver.

  “You have to tell him it’s okay to come eat,” Nebekker said.

  “He doesn’t need my permission.” But Silver nudged the Aquinder and pointed to the food. He leaped forward, tripped over his own front feet, flipped tail to head, and landed in a heap next to his dinner. Without untangling himself, he lapped sideways at the food with his long tongue.

  Nebekker ladled some of the stew from the pot into a ceramic bowl. “Sit down and eat, and I’ll tell you some things.”

  Silver picked up the bowl, but she didn’t eat. How could she when so much had happened? Kirja’s kidnapping, the underground river, the baby Aquinder, the stories Nebekker had yet to tell. Still, her stomach rumbled at the scent of broth, so she dug into the stew as voraciously as the dragon did.

  Nebekker chewed her food for a moment, then set the mug on the ground. “This all started well before I met Kirja. Some five hundred years ago. No … long before that. I don’t have time to explain the Wakening of Breathing Creatures to you. But you’ve learned about the Land and Sea Wars, right?”

  Silver nodded. “We studied it in history class last year.”

  “So you say, but I know kids these days get a mangled version of the truth.” Nebekker shook her head. “It doesn’t do to deceive our children by rewriting history.”

  Silver glanced at the baby water dragon next to her. He had finished his meal and was now napping, with his stubby legs pointing into the air. His soft snores shook his silver whiskers. Silver wanted to curl up next to him.

  Instead, she said, “My teachers always said Aquinder were a myth.”

  Nebekker clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “I’d like to shock all those vainglorious teachers with a peek at the creature in front of you. What did they teach you about the Land and Sea Wars?”

  “Just that the water dragons destroyed the coastal cities, then started moving inland. But a great army arose out of the deep-desert cities, and the vast desert nomadic tribes fought back. They—”

  “A desert army, was it?” Nebekker shook her head. “Without fail, humans will rearrange history to fit their own ideas of heroes and glory. Let me tell you some real truth. Aquinder exist and have always existed. Long before the Land and Sea Wars, the dragons gifted humans with bonds after humans helped them send Lava Dragons back into the Black Hole.”

  Silver’s eyes widened. “The Black what?”

  Nebekker waved her words away. “But as humans began using dragons in their selfish war, they were punished. Bonds were taken away. But then came a young desert boy named Gulad Nakim.”

  “Gulad Nakim,” Silver repeated.

  “The first dragon rider. Before Gulad, the desert armies thought there was no way to train the desire to kill out of the Aquinder. But Gulad’s Aquinder was as gentle as a desert beetle. He could hand-feed it. When Gulad was ordered to train his Aquinder to be a killer, he refused, and they fled to the vast desert.” Nebekker sipped more stew and watched the baby Aquinder sleep, coiled up next to Silver. “The desert was nearly crushed in the war, but just when all hope had been lost, Gulad Nakim returned with his water dragon. Instead of walking side by side, rider and dragon flew in, together. It was then the whole world discovered that humans could ride dragons.”

  “How had no one realized that before?” Silver said, her hand absently patting the baby water dragon’s side.

  “Because when bonds were taken away, dragons became temperamental. They were chained to ships … beaten until they frothed with rage … and then released into cities. Gulad knew that there could be love and respect between humans and dragons. His heart was pure, his intentions only to care for his dragon. And so for the first time in many years, a dragon bonded with a human.”

  Nebekker suddenly put her hand over her heart and winced. Her breathing got heavy.

  Silver leaned forward. “Are you all right?”

  “I’ll be fine.” Nebekker sat silent for a few moments, catching her breath. “Let me finish my story. Gulad and his Aquinder rode into battle and changed the tide of the wars. Soon enough, more humans were able to ride Aquinder, but still no other bonds were known.

  “With so much of the earth laid to waste, the island king and desert king finally agreed to end the war. They signed a treaty to unify their people, so that all island royalty would be partnered to landed royalty, and vice versa.”

  “What about Gulad? And his dragon?” Silver whispered.

  “Part of the treaty required that all Aquinder be slaughtered,” Nebekker said darkly. “They were considered too dangerous to be near humans.”

  “They could have just released them back to the seas,” Silver cried.

  “For the next warmongering king to seek and capture?” Nebekker pierced Silver with a look from her jade eyes. “They killed them all. But they missed several eggs left in nests in the vast desert, and I believe Kirja is the offspring of one of those. Gulad had to have been doing something when he was in the desert. But for all his pains, they killed him, too, hoping bonds would die with him. Kings and queens did not like the idea of anyone other than themselves being able to control dragons.”

  “But it’s not control,” Silver said, a lump forming in her throat. She lay a protective hand over the sleeping water dragon.

  “No.” Nebekker smiled. “But they didn’t have the capability to see it that way, the way it really is. But you will, now that you’re bonded.”

  “What does it mean to be bonded?” Silver asked.

  “Your lifeblood pumps at the same rate. You breathe in and out together. You stay by each other’s side forever. You would do anything the other needs. Even die for each other. And when that day of death comes for one, the other cannot live,” Nebekker said fiercely. “To be bonded is the most beautiful experience a dragon-loving human can have. I was only a girl about your age when Kirja found me, but when I saw her, well, it felt like my body had been torn in half and stitched back together with her blood in me.”

  “Oh.” It was a strange way to describe meeting a water dragon for the first time. And yet …

  Silver put her hand to her chest, making sure she, too, hadn’t been torn in half.

  “When I saw Kirja, I knew exactly what she was,” Nebekker said sadly. “Like you, I was stunned to discover that Aquinder still lived. Barely … she had been injured. Attacked by another dragon, perhaps. I went to her every single day and nursed her back to health. Kirja lived in a cave at the shore for several years. I went to her every single day. I weaved a harness and rode her over the waves. Until a girl in my village saw us. I knew we had to run. If people knew Aquinder were still alive—”

  “But Sagittaria knows now,” Silver exclaimed, jumping to her feet. “She can’t bring Kirja back to Calidia.”

  “Sagittaria Wonder will be halfway across the vast desert by now. She has trained her whole life for the moment she could mount an Aquinder and soar through the skies.”

  “But they’re not bonded,” Silver cried.

  “Do you think all the other Aquinder that were ridden into battle were bonded with their humans? Of course not. Dragons can be trained to take any rider, using the right methods. Or coerced, as I’m sure my Kirja will be.”

  “If they kill Kirja”—Silver’s heart pounded—“what will happen to you?”

  “They won’t do that. She’s far too valuable to them.”

  “She wants to race Kirja,” Silver said, suddenly remembering the parchment Sagittaria Wonder had dropped in her father’s shop. “Sagittaria left me this flyer.” She pulled it from the sleeve of her riding suit. Across
the top, the flyer featured a drawing of Sagittaria Wonder sitting in the saddle of her favorite racing dragon, Riptide.

  Silver read out loud: “‘The Desert Nations Autumn Festival World Water Dragon Racing Qualifiers and Semifinals. Registration on-site for established and claimant dragons.’”

  A cool, blunt water dragon nose nudged the flyer from Silver’s hand. The Aquinder grinned at Silver and waved its tail side to side.

  “Playtime, is it?” Silver grinned, and so did the Aquinder. The water dragon splashed into the river. When Silver didn’t follow, he poked his head back out and mewled.

  “Sorry,” she said, “I can’t swim.”

  Nebekker shook her head. “Can’t swim, but you think you can race water dragons.” She lifted the fallen parchment with a toe.

  “I’ll learn!” Silver grabbed the flyer. “What it says here … ‘Claimant dragons’ … what’s that all about?”

  “All desert-based water dragons are by default owned by Queen Imea, unless registered. Then, the rider or the rider’s sponsor owns them. Racing is one way to register them. It’s protection for the dragon and its owner.”

  “But that means if Sagittaria races Kirja in the Autumn Festival, you’ll lose her forever.”

  “Their law is not my law. Kirja and I will always belong to each other. They don’t understand bonds, but when Kirja stops obeying them they’ll come for me to force her to do what they say. They’ll—”

  Suddenly, Silver understood. “Use you. Imprison you. Harm you when Kirja won’t do what they tell her to do. I won’t let that happen!”

  Nebekker snorted. “What are you going to do about it? You can hardly walk in a straight line without falling over.”

  “I’ll think of something. I know I will.” A fire flared to life in Silver’s chest.

  “Right now you should focus on thinking up a name for that baby dragon.”

  Silver pointed to herself. “Me?”

  As though he knew they were talking about him, the Aquinder came back to Silver, forcing his head under her arm and giving her a reproachful look when she didn’t immediately start petting him.

  “You’re his bonded human, not me.” Nebekker stood and stretched her arms above her head. She turned away, trembling, and wrapped a few blankets around her shoulders. She began to hum and work her hands, but Silver couldn’t see what she was doing. Silver’s hand absentmindedly patted the Aquinder by her side.

  Her Aquinder.

  “Nebekker, does our bond mean that from now on … forevermore … I have to live in hiding?”

  “Once, there was a woman who tried to hide her Aquinder from the world. She came to a city in the deep desert where no one, she thought, spent time thinking about water dragons. Then she met a meddling girl who thought of nothing but water dragons. The woman taught the girl a special craft, meant to help the girl find her way out of the city so that the city would remain safe for the woman and the dragon she hid.”

  Nebekker opened her mouth, as if to say something more, but she hesitated as she looked at Silver. Warmth blossomed on her face slowly, like a desert flower opening at sunrise.

  “The creatures that end up mattering the most to us tend to come into our lives unexpectedly,” she finally said. “In the end, no matter what the woman did or how she hid, she began to wonder if perhaps Aquinder were meant to find their way back into the world. Perhaps there is a new chapter to their story. One that pesky girl is going to have to help write.”

  FOURTEEN

  Silver woke with a start. She rubbed her hand quickly over her eyes. The baby Aquinder sat up, too, startled, and looking at Silver anxiously. She’d fallen asleep. Last she remembered, her mind was racing—she was bonded to a water dragon!—but soon enough, her breathing had matched her water dragon’s, which at the time was slow and steady, and she nodded off.

  But now she was wide awake. Nebekker was missing, and there were voices by the path to the entrance of the cave.

  “All you Jaspaton kids have herd dung for brains.”

  That was Nebekker’s voice.

  “It’s not my fault! Everyone’s worried.”

  Silver blinked. She knew that voice, too. Brajon.

  “And you thought you’d be some kind of hero? You were more likely to get yourself killed out in the vast desert.”

  “But I didn’t. And I found you and Silver. I am a hero. Feels pretty good, too.”

  Nebekker grunted, as if to hide her laughter.

  Silver stood. The baby Aquinder stretched himself tall, too. “You have to hide,” Silver told him.

  The water dragon quickly tromped along the river’s edge and dipped into the water. He gracefully swam to the other side, got out, and disappeared into the stalagmites. For about two seconds. As soon as he realized Silver wasn’t following him, he stuck his head out and mewled.

  “Shh!” Silver waved him back behind the cavern formations. But instead of moving out of sight, he mewled louder. He howled for Silver.

  “Meryaaahhlllll!”

  “Stop that,” Silver hissed.

  “What’s that sound? A monster?” Brajon said. His voice rose. “Silver? Are you down there?”

  “Go!” she told her Aquinder.

  He completely ignored her.

  “If she’s been eaten by a cave beast—”

  “She’s alive and well,” Nebekker said. She and Brajon rounded the corner.

  Even in the low light, Silver could see that her cousin’s eyes lit up when he saw her.

  “Silver!” he cried, rushing toward her. He dropped the dune board he was carrying and grabbed her in his arms, lifting her off the ground in a tight hug.

  “Can’t breathe,” she gasped.

  She heard a splash, then a high-pitched roar. In a flash of blue, the baby Aquinder slammed into Brajon’s side, sending both him and Silver to the ground. Brajon rolled a few feet away, while the water dragon stood over Silver protectively, hissing at him.

  “What is that?” Brajon yelled, raising his fists.

  “Quiet,” Silver yelled back. “It’s my dragon.”

  That shut Brajon up. He froze and dropped his hands to his side. “What?”

  Silver put her arms around her Aquinder and rubbed his sides. Both their hearts raced, but Silver tried to silently convey to her water dragon that Brajon wasn’t going to hurt them. As if the dragon understood, he relaxed his big body against her and licked the side of her head in relief.

  Brajon sat on the ground, his hands tangled in his hair. “How … What…?”

  “It’s a long story.” Silver told him everything, starting from when she looked out her window and saw Sagittaria Wonder heading out into the vast desert. “And now it’s just me and Nebekker.”

  “And the water dragon. The Aquinder. They’re real,” Brajon breathed. “Your Aquinder. What does that even mean?”

  “It means they’ve bonded,” said Nebekker. “And that means a whole lot of not good things.”

  “Good things, too,” Silver said, but she frowned.

  Nebekker had been short of breath when she spoke. And in the low blue light, her face had taken on a slight shade of green. She was sick, and it was because she and Kirja were separated. Bonds were beautiful, but it was clear they were dangerous, too.

  Brajon sat back on his heels, slowly shaking his head. He didn’t look so well, either. “Sagittaria Wonder. A dragon thief. An Aquinder thief.”

  “Theft runs rampant before big races,” Nebekker remarked offhandedly.

  “She’s not technically a thief,” Silver said, telling Brajon about the registration law.

  “So that means this one…” Brajon waved his hand at the baby Aquinder. “What are you going to do with it? I don’t think your father will let you keep it.”

  Silver barked out a laugh, which her Aquinder mimicked, thinking it was a game. The honking sound echoed through the cavern.

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m not going back there,” Silver said.

  “You ha
ve to!” her cousin said. “Everyone’s been searching for you. Your mother hasn’t slept since you left. And mine hasn’t cooked.”

  Silver felt a pull when Brajon mentioned her mother. She nibbled on her bottom lip.

  “Sorry to deprive you of Aunt Yidla’s feasts,” she said. “But I have to stay here. With my…” Silver looked at her Aquinder. His big eyes sparkled back at her. She couldn’t keep calling him “my Aquinder” or “my water dragon,” like he was just a thing. He needed a name. Letters played over her lips, trying to form themselves into the right name for the dragon. “Mo … Tr … Vi…” She racked her brain to remember the names of the ancient deities. There was one responsible for all the matter surrounding the earth: the blue sky, the white clouds. The things that reminded her of her Aquinder’s coloring. “Hiyyan,” she finally said.

  “Hiyyan? Like from the old stories?” Brajon said. “That’s what its mother called it?”

  “No,” Nebekker said. “Water dragons don’t name one another in our language. They use their own. This is the name Silver has given her dragon.”

  Brajon shook his head. “It’s not as though you’re going to be able to hide it in your room. Not for long, at least. And what about when it has to go to the bathroom?”

  “You’re not listening to me.” Silver stood and brushed her trousers off. “I’m not going back to Jaspaton. I’m staying here with Hiyyan.”

  “Says who?” Nebekker said.

  Silver looked at Nebekker with surprise.

  “I can’t leave Hiyyan. And I have to help Kirja. And you need help, too. You’re sick!”

  “No, you can’t leave Hiyyan,” Nebekker said. She sighed. “But I never expected to have to account for a couple of children.”

  “We’re not babies,” Silver said.

  “You act like one sometimes,” Brajon teased.

  Silver stuck her tongue out at her cousin. Hiyyan followed suit.

  “Stop teaching that poor Aquinder your bad manners,” Nebekker said. “Now that his mother’s gone, you’ll have to show him how to be a water dragon … somehow.”