Dragon Slayers

by Kristin D. Van Risseghem

  “He said something similar, too. I kinda feel weird telling you this, but there is something that I’d like to explore with him. Don’t get me wrong. I love hanging out with you, too. We don’t know each other very well, but what I do know, I’ve enjoyed. We are more similar than you know.” I bite my lip. “But I can’t deny whatever Bronx and I may have.”

  “I’ve thought as much and it’s fine.” He sighs, and we sit in silence for a bit longer before he speaks again. “Staten also said that he’s going to train you to use your magic. That must mean you have a lot of potential.”

  There must not be any topic that’s off limits for the boys to share. I guess that’s what it’s like having a larger family, siblings to confide your inner most thoughts to.

  Being an only child, I didn’t have that.

  “Welcome back to Skills.” Bronx is walking around with no indication that he was injured at all. “About yesterday’s mission, I’m sure that you have many questions.” He holds his hand up. “This is what we know. Two dragons were spotted in the area where Level Three was dropped at. You guys did the recon and confirmed the targets. Well done.”

  Some of the students clap.

  “Manny and I were injured during the mission and no dragons were killed, so we technically have failed and thus Level Three will need to be sent on another mission before we can graduate from the school. Now, don’t be alarmed. This happens more often than you think. Not everything goes according to plans. Dragons are animals, and you can’t fit them into a box.” Bronx continues around the gym as if to show us that he’s in perfect health. “All the planning in the world sometimes can’t foresee things happening. And sometimes, the mission is a failure. That does not mean that any of you are. It’s just that the objective was not met; that is all and nothing more.” Bronx stops and says, “Questions?”

  No one raises their hand. I think he did a thorough explanation of yesterday’s events.

  “All right, if no one has any thoughts or comments, let’s get ready for one-on-one combat. Clear the mats. Each of you were rated the other day and today, the lowest score will go against the highest score.” He flips a white board around.

  My name is not the top. Thank the boroughs. It’s not at the bottom either. I notice that Noelle and Sax are in the middle, just a few behind me.

  Reist sits at the top spot.

  I catch his attention and give him the thumbs up. He smiles. We won’t be fighting against each other. Not yet at least. Do I want to push myself to go head to head against him? Maybe. I know he’s really good. He’d be hard to overtake. He’s at least five inches taller and one hundred pounds heavier. Don’t think about that. Today isn’t the day, anyway.

  I’ll have my hands full with my current opponent.

  The person opposite of my name is Madi. She’s about my height, same weight, but since I know she doesn’t like me, she’s probably going to be gunning for me the minute we start. She’ll draw on all that anger and won’t hold anything back. Madi is all about her, making herself look good even at the expense of other people. I should’ve watched more fights the other day. She’s going to beat me, and then I’ll be toward the bottom of the list. Then everyone will start teasing me. I got a lucky kill shot. I don’t deserve to be part of the elite club.

  But I do have my boys. That is a perk.

  During most of the first hour, we watch a mix of mid-level ranking couples battle. Then my name is called, and I wipe my sweaty palms on pants. I walk to the center as Madi approaches from the other side.

  Bronx calls time and we begin. First, we circle each other, sizing the other up. She’s not smiling as she stalks around the room. I inch closer to her on each pass we take. Whether she notices or not, she doesn’t comment.

  “Anytime, ladies,” Bronx says. “If I wanted to see this, I’d go find a cat fight in a normal high school. You’re York Academy students. Show it.”

  Madi doesn’t need any more than that to come barreling toward me. Driving her bony shoulder into my stomach, I’m caught off guard and land on my butt.

  She grins toward the onlookers.

  Shaking off the slight pain in my backside, I stand and run at her. Feigning to the left, I duck as she swings an arm where my head used to be. I sweep her feet. She jumps at the last minute. I swivel and throw a punch to her side when she’s still in the air. It connects, and she blows out an “oomph.”

  Her eyes squint, and her palms fist at her sides. I motion for her to come forward. She takes the bait. As she nears me, she squats and slams her fist into my lower thigh. I tumble but not before I land a punch to her cheek.

  Pain shoots up my leg as I’m lying on the floor. She’s quick. Faster than I thought she would be. She straddles my legs and arms, locking them against my body. I know this is very bad for me. I buck my hips. She presses her knees together. Her fists connect with my face over and over. I feel liquid running down my nose and can only image that it’s blood.

  I hope what Bronx said is true about magic healing us faster than normal because I’m sure by Saturday my face will be swollen and blue.

  Madi’s relentless, and I’m surprised that Bronx hasn’t called the match yet. He called the match the first day when that girl accidently hit her head.

  He’s not my savior. He won’t always be there when this is for real, and a dragon is before me.

  I’m struggling to move my body, trying anything to throw her off. My head turns from side to side, my shoulders barely lift off the mat. My legs attempt to twist. Rising my hips, I test to see if I can toss her off me. Rage pours over me, and my magic is released. I’m not sure if we’re supposed to use it, but it’s too late for me to stop the onslaught. I glow everywhere. It’s so bright I see some people step back from the circle.

  Madi hesitates on her next blow to my side. I think I’ll be sporting matching bruised ribs with Bronx by the end of today.

  That grass green fireball explodes from my body.

  Everyone in the gym is knocked down, even the ones in the far corner doing sprints. The lights flicker and turn off. People scream.

  “Brooklyn.” Bronx’s voice is in my ear. His spearmint fragrance washing over me. He waves his hand and blue light flickers. Then more magic starts to appear around the room.

  “That’s match,” he says. “Can you walk?”

  I nod, his flame casting weird shadows on his face. “Take yourself to the med-bay and get checked out. If and when they clear you, report back to me. You’re done here.”

  “But I didn’tmeanto—”

  “It’s not anything you did intentionally. I should have seen it and stopped the fight. For that, I’m sorry, Sweetheart.”

  Boroughs. “Why?” I suck in a breath. “Didn’tyou stopthe—” I can feel my swollen lips.

  “Get to medical and we’ll talk later.”

  I stand and hobble my way out of the gym, down the three flights of stairs, and across campus to the medical center. Anger still clouds my thoughts. He should have stopped the fight before I got this bad. My entire body hurts. If I could feel my hair, I bet it would hurt, too. I’m glad that Bronx didn’t insist on someone coming with me. It’s embarrassing enough that I’m no longer a part of the magic class, but now I’m leaving Skills. My face is hot and my vision blurs.

  My arms are sore and can barely rise to press the bar that opens the main door, but I manage somehow. I step to the nurse’s station. One look at me sends two nurses flying in different directions, shouting orders to someone not in the room.

  I’m lead to a private office and asked to strip, redress in a white gown, then sit on the bed, and wait for the doctor.

  I don’t wait too long, since I’m sure that the nurse ran to get her. A tall woman with mocha skin enters. Her black, curly hair is loosely tied back. She’s very pretty in her white lab coat and white heels.

  “Oh, my.” She sets the clipboard down on the desk. “Let’s see what’s all happening. You must have come from Skills? Are you Level Two
or Three?”

  “Howdoyouknow?”

  “I’ve been around enough to know. Don’t worry. You’re in good hands.” She places the stethoscope on my chest and listens to my breathing. “All good.” Then she prods my arms and legs. When she touches my knee, I jerk it. “Sore?”

  “Yes.”

  “Stay as still as you can. I’m going to feel your stomach and ribs.”

  I nod.

  Very slowly, she presses her fingers into my belly and around my ribcage. I wince when she touches the right side.

  “I’m going to order some X-rays, but I don’t think they are broken. You’ll have to take it easy for a couple of days while they heal. Other than that, you look far worse than you are.” She smiles. “I hope you got in some good punches.”

  “Idon’tknowbecausethelightswentoutwhenIusedmymagic.”

  “Pardon me? I thought you said you used magic on your opponent?”

  “Ididn’tmeanttohurtanyone.” I take a breath.

  “I’m going to prescribe you some oxycodone for the pain. You can pick up the meds in the front office after the X-rays.”

  The exam only takes thirty minutes, but the walk to and from the training center is long, so by the time I’m shuffling up the stairs to the gym, class is almost over.

  The latter half of the day was training on a dragon dummy. It would have been great to be there for it, but since my left eye is swollen shut and I can’t lift my arm to hold a sword, I guess it would’ve been useless for me to attend.

  “You look like shit, Brooklyn,” Noelle says when class is finally let out for the day. “Are your ribs broken?”

  “No.” I wince. “Justbruised.”

  “Bronx should’ve stopped the fight long before you got seriously hurt.” She glances around for him. “But maybe he wants to play nurse for you now.”

  “Whereishe?” I ask. If I could narrow my eyes, I would.

  She leads me to him and leaves us alone.

  “Takeagoodlook.” I inhale. “This.” I slow my breathing. “Iswhatyoudidtome.”

  “No.” I think he’s shaking his head. “You didn’t fight back.”

  “You’resupposedtoshowustheproperwaytofight.”

  “I know you’re upset with me, and we can talk about it later. I’m sure they gave you drugs, and I know Staten is waiting for you. He’ll speed up the healing process.”

  “Nohewon’t.” My breath hitches. “Hehatesme, remember?”

  “He doesn’t, trust me.” Bronx sighs. “I wish I could hug you, but I think you’d find the will to slap me. Or punch me in the gut. I’ll lead you to the door and after your training with him, I’ll come find you.”

  “Ipreferyoudidn’t. Nottonight. Ineedtobealone.” I turn, almost fall, but I right myself quickly, ignoring the paid that shoots through my body with the turn.

  Since one eye is swollen shut and the other is hazy, by smell alone, I find my way to the open door.

  “You’re late.” Staten stands right outside the gym door. “If you want my help with your magic training, the first rule is to not waste my time.”

  “Look, classjustgotout.” I stand with a hand on my hip. This helps my arm. “IhadtoaskBronxsomething about—”

  “Save it. Rule number two is to not give excuses. I don’t want to hear them, especially if they concern Bronx or Manny. Neither of them will help you when it comes to this.”

  He doesn’t say a word on how awful I look. Good, at least he knows when to shut his mouth. “Fine.” I limp down the hall.

  “Don’t get snippy with me,” Staten says to my retreating back. “I don’t want to do this either just as much as you don’t want to be here with me.” He grabs my arm, forcing me to stop and spin into him. I cringe and he lets go. “So, let’s get that straight. Whatever you have going on with my brothers, leave me out of it.” He waves his hand. “Follow.” He turns on his heal and marches down the hallway, then to a staircase to a lower level.

  I can’t tell if he ever turns to make sure I’m following him or not. “AsifI’dtellyouany.” I inhale. “Ofthesordiddetails,” I mumble. “Thenagain, maybe that’spartofyourproblem.” I bend over and place my hands on my knees. “Youneedtogetlaid, buddy, andstop ridingmyass.”

  “No. I’ll leave that to them.” He turns and glares at me as he leads me into a vacant room. It’s as large as the gym with mats decorating the floor, but no weapons of any kind. In fact, there’s padding lining the walls. “Sit.”

  “Ican’t.” I jut out my leg that has a brace wrapped around it. “I’llneedhelp.”

  Staten sighs. “Fine. You never do anything the easy way.” What does that mean? “This might be a bit weird, but since you have a bum arm in a sling, too. Never mind, I’ll just do it.” He steps behind me and with hands softer than I imagined he’d have, wraps his arms around my middle. “Lean onto your good leg.” He kicks out the bad one and slowly sinks to the ground, taking my weight with him as he leads both of us to the floor. His long legs cradle mine.

  If anyone came into the room right now, they’d think we were in some sort of intimate embrace. But I know differently. He backs up and sits in front of me.

  “Now, since I can’t understand a word you’re saying, your fat lips will be the first thing we heal.”

  “Youcanthankyourbrotherforthis.” I point to my mouth.

  “Say that again, slower.”

  “Your brother—”

  “WHAT? Bronx did this to you?” His hands form fists so tight that his knuckles turn white. He relaxes and holds up his hand. “Heal first, and then you can explain to me why my brother beat on you.”

  I shake my head. Is that concern for me coming from Staten?

  “John said that you guys were learning to take and borrow magic.” My face must have shown my confusion. “Mr. Lorimer. Everything in life is a give and receive. At all times, there is only ever one hundred percent. If you take ten, you need to give back ten in a different form. Understand?”

  I nod. That makes sense.

  He scoots closer, bending my leg so my foot is on the inside of my thigh, making a wide number four. Sitting crossed-legged, his knees touch mine. He lifts the sling off and takes my fingers with gentleness I didn’t think he possessed.

  Immediately, his palms glow with a faint green light, which is very similar to my own. His has a tad bluer. The flames dance around our joined hands.

  “Do you feel that? What I’m doing with the magic?”

  I feel a pulling in my chest, as if an invisible string wants me to bend forward and be closer to Staten. It relaxes, and then it pushes back into me. “Yes,” I say.

  “Let yours come, coax it out slowly. Otherwise, you’ll blast it, and we both could get injured like what you did in Skills.”

  Did I tell him that? I don’t think I did. Bronx must have, but when did he have time to do that?

  Putting those thoughts aside, I focus on my magic, finding the light green glow. It sparks instantly since it just danced with Staten’s. I mentally push it to him through our joined limbs. His body doesn’t move like mine did. Then I tug it back to me, bringing some of his with mine.

  He nods. “Send what you have to your lips and think about them going back to normal. Less puffy, red, sore. Believe that they are once again soft, delicate, and supple.”

  Those are not the words I would’ve thought a harsh man like him knows. Especially when describing my lips. I do what he says. My mouth prickles. We unlock hands, and I raise my fingers to my mouth. The skin is still a bit tender to the touch, but otherwise they feel almost normal.

  Staten nods again. “Repeat and heal your arm.” We join hands again. I push and pull the magic from him and send it to my shoulder and elbow. They, too, tingle and I know what I did worked. “Now instead of pushing, just pull from me and send it to your ribs.”

  How does he know my ribs are injured? I look down and can see the bandage outlined through my T-shirt. Ah, so he had looked at my chest. I suppose he was assessing every part
that will need to be healed, for purely academic reasons. That’s what I tell myself. He’s still a guy though.

  This is a lot harder without the push. I scrunch my face and clench my jaw. When I open my eyes and glance at Staten, his face is neutral, giving away nothing, and not even looking at me. His eyes are locked on something above my head. I have no idea what he’s thinking. It’s almost as if he’s bored, but then his green eyes flicker to meet mine. They harden and turn dark. Then he closes them, hiding them from me.

  I lose my concentration seeing the spark of anger emitting from him. Blowing out my frustration, I sigh. My hopes are crushed with defeat.

  “Again,” he says.

  He knows I didn’t fix my ribs.

  “I can’t.”

  “You’re not trying hard enough.”

  “I am!” I shout back. “This is new to me, and did you honestly think I’d be able to heal myself in one attempt? Quit being an asshole and learn patience.”

  “At least now I can understand you when you call me names.”

  “Jerk.”

  “If you can’t pull my magic when we’re touching, how are you going to do it when you aren’t able to connect with any other magic user?” He tilts his head. “Do it. If you want to quit, fine. Stop wasting my time. I’ll tell John to find someone else to train you.” He pushes from the ground and kneels.

  Rage bubbles to the surface by his taunting threats. He gives up easily and if he tells my teacher, does that mean I’m untrainable? No, it’s because he’s a poor instructor. I press my lips together and let my wrath swaddle me, letting it fester and build until I use it and pull everything I can from the pompous prick sneering at me.

  The magic twitches and slams into me, then forces Staten off his knees. His hands shoot outward, as if he’s attempting to catch me. But instead, he lands on top of my body, stealing the breath I held. His face is above mine. He’s so close I can see gold speckles in his hazel eyes. My breath speeds up. He inhales slowly as if he’s fighting to remark on my inability to listen to simple instructions. Then he remembers we’re foes and scrambles to get off me. My chest screams in agony when I breathe. I scowl at him.