by Sam Ferguson
Kyra’s father, on the other hand, was very fond of midwinter festival. He often recited the history of its origin, and lauded those who had created the holiday. He always insisted on re-enacting the traditional rite of placing an apple wood log in the fire while the family drank spiced cider and sang the traditional songs. His gifts were usually something that he would like more than a thoughtful present for the receiver, but it was one of the few times he seemed genuinely happy to be around people more than his books.
Even that had been taken away from her this year. Her father was not coming to get her. Instead, while all of the other apprentices prepared to go home for a three week holiday, Kyra received a letter from her father telling her that she would be staying in her dorm.
She glanced down at the unopened letter sitting on the library table in front of her. She reached out and turned the envelope over in her hand, studying her family seal embossed in the wax that held the envelope closed. She had thought to open it when she first received it in the morning the day before, but the more she looked at the envelope the less she wanted to know its contents. She knew her father well enough to guess what it would say. There would be a short report about the weather since her absence, followed by an accounting of the chickens and other livestock animals, and ended briefly with a list of books that had been acquired after her departure from the house. Perhaps there would be a small portion where he would question where some of his books had gone, as they had been secretly tucked into Kyra’s belongings by her mother before she went to Kuldiga academy, but that would likely be the only departure from the otherwise drab and stale letter. The signature at the bottom most appropriately would be signed in a businesslike manner, the same as her father would write to any other acquaintance with whom he had to deal personally.
Knowing that, what reason was there for her to open the envelope? At least this way, with the seal still intact, there was a part of her that could pretend that things were different. Somewhere inside her mind, she could allow for the possibility that her father had written a loving, tender letter expressing how sorry he was that he could not come and get her and how much he missed her and her mother.
If she were to break the seal, she would dispel that fantasy.
She pushed the letter away from her on the desk, rose to her feet, and went to the window. She looked down into the courtyard and saw a mass of apprentices circled around a large bonfire. The various Masters observed the apprentices to ensure order, and some even doled out mugs of cider while the group broke into song. Many of the students had already gone home the day before, but others waited to be picked up tonight. It was common enough for those who lived farther away to be among the last to leave.
The door to the library closed, sending a low echo throughout the hall. Kyra turned expectantly, looking as far as she could see before a bookcase obstructed her view of the library’s entrance. She could hear the pit pat of feet walking toward her. For a moment she worried that it might be Feberik, but she dismissed that thought as she listened to the light footsteps. His boots always fell heavy upon the floor. She also knew that it was not Janik, for his left leg would drag due to his terrible limp, and she did not hear any sign of that. She thought perhaps it was Cyrus, but doubted that because the steps were a little faster than his usual pace. She turned and went toward the edge of the row of to discover who her visitor was.
She smiled when she saw the dark-haired, blue-eyed young man that had helped her save herself and her egg.
“Not going back for the festival holidays?” Kyra asked.
“No, the elf who raised me is in the Eastern Wilds, fighting Tarthuns. There is little reason for me to go back now.”
“I would like to see the city of the elves. Tualdern has long been a place I have wanted to visit and experience,” Kyra said.
Kathair smiled. “Then in that case, perhaps someday I will go back, as long as you go with me.”
Kyra blushed a bit and nodded her head, agreeing to the innocent, fanciful date. Kathair spotted the letter on the table and pointed to it.
“From your family?”
Kyra shrugged. “It’s from my father.”
“Aren’t you going to open it?”
Kyra shook her head. “The headmaster has already informed me that he received a letter from my father saying that I was to stay here for the mid-winter holiday. I suppose it is his way of keeping me closer to Master Orres, and of protecting his investment.”
Kathair frowned toward the table. He scooped the envelope up in his hand and turned it over a few times.
“Don’t worry, I won’t open it either,” he said. “I never get any letters. I thought it would be fun just to hold one for a minute.” He offered her a sly wink and set the letter back on the table. “How is your friend doing?”
Kyra smiled wide. It was good to have someone she could share her secret with. She moved toward the table and sat down. “I guess he’s doing well,” she said. “Hard to tell, really, since I can’t see inside the shell.”
“Does your book say when he should hatch?”
Kyra shook her head. “Best I can figure, it will hatch sometime in the spring. The books mentioned not only the type of dragon, but also that the abundance of magic in an area can affect when the egg matures and hatches. I have tried to find other books that discuss this very subject, but haven’t had much luck yet.”
“Have you asked Cyrus?” Kathair pressed.
“I did ask him about the magic abundance in the Middle Kingdom,” Kyra said. “He didn’t really give me a straight answer. Instead he launched into a lecture about how magic is passed from parent to child.”
Kathair waved a hand in the air.
“Everyone knows that. If he is going to give you such a basic lesson on magic he should have started with what a shadowfiend is and how they create deals with the demons in order to get magic because their parents never had magic to pass to them.”
“He did,” Kyra said dryly with a roll of her eyes. “I was stuck there for nearly an hour listening to the origins of the first shadowfiends. It was interesting for the first few minutes, but by the time twenty minutes had passed I was already gone. I just kept nodding my head and he just kept talking.”
The young Apprentice of the Sword tapped a finger on the letter beside him. His face went from one of mirth to a more somber expression. He glanced up toward the window as if to think of something else to say before breaking some sort of bad news, but in the end he shook his head and looked back to Kyra.
Sensing his apprehension, she broached the subject for him.
“What is it?”
“You know that the headmaster has sent me on field expeditions over the last several weeks, don’t you?” Kathair asked.
Kyra nodded her head and waited for the young man to finish.
“I have been training with different groups of dragon slayers,” he said suddenly.
Kyra shook her head. “That is impossible! Nobody works with dragon slayers until after their graduation. Even then most of them have to go through additional training at Ten Forts before they can be permitted to work with the dragon slayers.”
Kathair nodded. He picked the envelope up again and fiddled with it, staring at it instead of looking to Kyra as he continued.
“Well, I have. I’m the only first-year apprentice in the history of Kuldiga Academy to work in the field, let alone with the dragon slayers. Anyway, I don’t bring this up to boast. There is something you need to know. I wanted to warn you about it.”
“About what?”
Kathair thumped the letter onto the table and sighed.
“There is a group of them coming tomorrow morning. You have to move the egg.”
Kyra’s heart sank. A wave of fear came over her, but it was quickly replaced by a hot, boiling anger that rose within her chest.
“Did you tell them?”
He shook his head quickly and looked into her eyes.
“No, no, nothing like that. It
’s only that they will take me with them. It is part of my training, to take me to diverse areas looking for signs of dragons. They intend to go into the forest. It isn’t because of the egg, but rather because many years ago there were several dragons that lived nearby. I guess this was during a time when the dragons were still mostly good. I heard that the dragons were able to lend their teachings to some of the apprentices here. In any case, there are some different nests in the forest that are centuries old, as well as sites with bones, and they want me to look at those.”
“I haven’t seen anything like that,” Kyra replied.
“The first place where the egg was, I think that is one of the nests they are talking about. In the old times there would have been scores of eggs there. All of the rocks and boulders have been carved out of the mountain and brought to that spot to create a nest that they could continually keep warm. I don’t know that the dragon slayers will want to go into the cave where the egg is now, but it is so close to the nest, I would hate to risk it. You will have to move it tonight.”
“Come with me, we can move it now,” Kyra said.
“I can’t. In fact, I should probably leave,” Kathair replied.
“But why?”
Kathair glanced toward the doorway and sighed. “Your fiancé was quick to give me a warning upon my return this time. He made it extremely clear that he saw us coming out of the woods several weeks ago, and that he is partially responsible for some of my fieldwork. Though I am sure my escapade in the courtyard with the other apprentices had just as much to do with it as anything else, we should still be careful.”
“But we haven’t done anything,” Kyra protested. “Am I not allowed to have friends now?”
Kathair smiled and his eyes twinkled at her. “I am now, and will always be your friend. Even after you marry that brutish oaf, I will still be around. I don’t fear anything he could do. Honestly, out of the three of us, if I were to fear anyone, it would be you.” Kathair offered a playful smile.
Kyra returned the smile. She knew of course that he was referring to the night he had helped her escape the forest. Afterward he had told her that he had seen the last half of the battle. He swore that he was charging in to help finish the strange monster, but had stopped when she had brought out a tornado made of fire. She looked at him then, locking eyes briefly with him, and her face reddened.
“I should go,” she said. “The egg is going to be difficult to move on my own.”
Kathair nodded briefly. “I should go too. I am sure Master Orres will come looking for you soon. I will go to my dorm. Perhaps that would draw his attention toward me.”
“Thank you.”
He smiled wide and then slid off the table. He went a few paces and then turned back and pointed to the letter. “You really should open it. You never know what kind of opportunity there is if you never try to peek inside.” The expression on his face made her wonder if he was only talking about the letter. She watched the young man walk away and thought about what it might be like to travel with him to Tualdern. Maybe they were only friends now, but perhaps there could be other possibilities for them.
“What kind of a name is Feberik, anyway?” Kathair called out over his shoulder before he slipped out and closed the library door.
Kyra laughed softly, biting her lower lip as she stared at the closed door for a moment.
Then she looked down at the letter. Kathair was right. She might as well open it and see what was inside.
Perhaps she would open it tomorrow. For now, she had a dragon egg to save.
CHAPTER 9
Kathair arrived at his room safely, though he had seen a few individuals trying to be inconspicuous as they followed him through the halls until he entered his room. No doubt they were instructed to do exactly that by Feberik Orres. He didn’t let it bother him though. Truth be told, Master Orres was right to do so. Even that first time when Kathair had seen her standing in the library window overlooking the courtyard he couldn’t help but feel a connection with her. That was to say nothing of her beauty. Her hair was the color of night. It looked soft and welcoming as it fell around her face and rested upon her shoulders. He smiled even now thinking about her, which was unusual for Kathair.
Unlike many of the other apprentices, who spent much of their mealtime or other pastimes talking about their supposed conquests with their female counterparts, Kathair Lepkin was not easily impressed by human beauty. After all, he had been raised in Tualdern, the oldest continually inhabited city, and the only city of elves within the Middle Kingdom. He had been surrounded by a race whose beauty surpasses that of all others. Yet it was Kyra that captured his heart.
He knew that was why he was protecting her. If any other apprentice he knew was harboring a dragon egg, he would likely inform the headmaster immediately, or destroy the egg himself. Even now he was considering doing just that. After spending time with the dragon slayers, he had come to understand the true danger within the egg. He had even promised himself that if the dragon ever turned on Kyra, he would be there to kill it.
Kathair had laughed at himself then, and still did when he thought about it.
Kyra would not need his protection from a baby dragon, she would likely evaporate it with some spell the way she had destroyed the monster that had attacked her previously at the nest.
He admired, and respected, Kyra’s talents, but there was more to it than that. There was something about her, something beyond her power and abilities. Maybe it was her confidence, or perhaps it was the desperation he could sense in her to find freedom. Whatever it was, there was definitely a bond that he felt was growing between them. For the sake of that bond, he would not disclose anything about the egg to anyone.
His thoughts drifted away from Kyra and the dragon as the songs became more boisterous outside his window. His room was a small area, barely more than a closet really. The window was narrow and short, but it allowed him a vantage point from which to look out over the courtyard. He moved to it and looked down. Many of the students had already left, and the bonfire was beginning to die down. Kathair watched the others sing for a few moments before turning back toward his bed and removing his shirt. He slung it lazily over the foot of his bed. Next he ripped off his boots, stuffed his socks inside, and then slid them underneath his bed. Last came his trousers. He tossed them over his shirt and then reached under the blanket to retrieve his twill pajama pants. There was also a shirt that went with them, but he didn’t like it. He liked to sleep with his legs warm, and his chest and feet out from under the blanket. Just before jumping into bed, he walked back to the window and cracked it open a bit to let the cool, wintry air in. He took a deep breath of the crisp night air and smiled, then slipped into his bed.
He was quick to fall asleep, with thoughts of what life might be like if he and Kyra were able to go to visit Tualdern together. His mind raced forward through time, imagining that perhaps they would even team up and go on grand adventures. He would be the legendary swordsman, and she would be a widely revered sorceress, making them the perfect team to track down any monster in the Middle Kingdom. He knew the fantasies could never be. Master Orres was far too jealous and controlling. Still, Kathair didn’t let those thoughts interfere with the planning and dreaming playing out in his mind as his body drifted into sleep. What would be the point of such a realistic fantasy? Dreams were to be exciting, not sad.
Several hours later, as the last embers from the bonfire rose into the air outside his window, Kathair’s door opened. They were so silent that Kathair didn’t wake. They stalked in noiselessly as if they were nothing more than ghosts. The door closed as quietly as it had opened. They gathered around him, and then upon the agreed signal, it started.
Kathair woke with a start as several pairs of hands seized his ankles, knees, wrists, shoulders, head, and mouth. He moved to fight against it, but then a massive, solid force struck him in the stomach. Whatever hit him slid off his chest, and then another one came just as soon as the firs
t was out of the way. The second one drove deep into his solar plexus, forcing the breath from his lungs. His body convulsed as his limbs struggled for freedom and his lungs fought for breath. He tried to scream, but somebody fit a large wad of gunnysack into his mouth. All the while the beating continued. Slam–thunk-wham! Soon he had no energy left to fight with. He lay still, silently sobbing and gagging on the gunnysack.
Someone moved in close to the side of his face. He could feel their hot, onion filled breath on his cheek as they whispered.
“Everyone needs a gift for mid-winter festival,” the person said. Next came a barrage of clenched fists. They pummeled Kathair’s torso, legs, and face. He was still conscious when they left, but he was nowhere near alert enough to uncover who, or even how many, had attacked him.
There was no way for him to know how much time passed after the last attacker had left and the door had closed, to the time when he finally managed to sit upright in his bed. He could breathe, so he was fairly certain none of his ribs were broken, but he felt as though he had been chewed up by a dragon and spit out and left to rot. Slowly, using his hands for support on the bed, he inched his way toward the door. He never got far. Two paces after he stood from the bed, he collapsed on the floor as his body succumbed to his injuries and his consciousness faded away.
The morning light streaming in through the narrow window did not wake him. The two dragon slayers who had been sent to his room to look for him could not wake him either. They picked him up and put him back on his bed, but there was nothing they could do to rouse him. One stayed with him, and the other left to find the headmaster.
