by Victor Kloss
Ben took a deep breath and stepped on. The moulding on the harness seemed to adjust itself to Ben’s shoes, fitting snugly. He bent down and picked up the reins, holding one in each hand. He could feel the power of the darzel beneath him, and knew instinctively that one false move would send him flying.
Aaron mounted his darzel as quickly as Ben, but it was another five minutes before everyone got on.
“Very good. This is where it gets slightly trickier,” Jeff said. “Now, hopefully most of you have ridden a horse before. It is not the same, but there are similarities.”
For the next half an hour, Jeff patiently taught them the basics of starting, stopping and turning.
“Excellent,” Jeff said. “I think you’re ready for a test run. Watch me.”
Jeff gave his reins a gentle tug, and the darzel lifted its head and started crawling forwards, its body just inches from the grass. The darzel increased its speed and unfurled its wings. Almost immediately the darzel rose a couple of feet off the floor and began to fly towards the river. Jeff guided it over the brook and then back again, where it came to a controlled stop.
“It’s as simple as that,” Jeff said. “It’s just a matter of combining all the elements you have already learnt. Now, I want you to line up, and each to have a go.”
They formed a line. Those with confidence or simply desire bustled their way to the front, and those still looking at the darzels with trepidation were happy to be at the back.
At the very front was Simon, with a huge grin plastered over his freckled face. He was standing on his darzel, reins in hand, looking like a racing driver waiting for the lights to change.
“I know this is going against your every grain, Simon, but please be patient. If you’re too hasty, you will lose balance,” Jeff said.
“Balance. Got it,” Simon said, staring intently at the brook. “Can I go?”
Jeff gave a resigned nod.
“Heeya!” Simon said, giving the reins a violent tug. The darzel jerked forwards, and Simon screamed in delight, just about managing to stay on. The darzel flapped its wings and flew towards the brook. Simon tugged on the reins and the darzel banked at speed. There was a scream, a splash, and Simon was dumped into the brook. The darzel, now unmanned, landed a short way off and stood, waiting for its rider with disinterest.
The laughter lasted until a grinning, soaking Simon emerged from the brook, got back on his darzel and joined the back of the line.
“Now, the errors Simon made were many and, hopefully, obvious,” Jeff said. “But chief amongst them was the force he used. You need to be gentle, especially when starting. Alright, who’s next?”
Simon wasn’t the only one who made a spectacle of themselves, though nobody else did it quite so dramatically. By the time the line had reached Ben, nobody had successfully managed to negotiate the small circuit.
“You’re up, Ben,” Jeff said. “Learn from Louisa’s mistake. Don’t bank too late or you will end up in the forest.”
Ben’s heart was racing. He knew his classmates were watching; he didn’t care about the peer pressure, but the fact that nobody had yet completed a circuit gave things a little added spice.
Ben wiggled his feet to make sure he had a good grip within the harness. He focused on the brook, less than fifty yards ahead, and gave the reins a gentle tug. The darzel started forwards on its feet, slinking through the grass. Bending his knees for balance, Ben gave a quick double-tug, and the darzel extended its wings and took to the air. The thrill of flight made him gasp, even though he was flying less than a foot above the grass. His eyes were focused on the brook, his arms tensed, waiting for the exact moment to turn. That moment came when he saw the bubbling blue water beneath him. Ben tugged gently on the right rein. The darzel banked gracefully, and Ben cried out, almost losing balance. He righted himself just in time, and somehow managed to cling on until the darzel had turned a full 180 degrees, and was safely flying back towards the students. So fixated was he on not falling off that he was only vaguely aware of their clapping and cheering. He landed unsteadily at the back of the line, and got off with a relieved smile.
“Excellent!” Jeff said, clapping with the rest. “You see, it can be done.”
Spurred on by Ben’s success, the next two students came close to completing it themselves, though both fell at the final hurdle.
Aaron was up next.
“Ooh, I bet he does it,” Beth said, subconsciously stroking her wavy, brown hair. “He looks like a born rider.”
He was standing on his darzel, waiting for Jeff to give him the nod. Ben had to admit, there was a confidence and a grace in his stance that he’d seen only from their teacher.
A small part of Ben hoped that Aaron would somehow slip up, but the moment his darzel left the ground, he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Aaron navigated the circuit with consummate ease. The cheering was rapturous, especially from the girls, and even Ben found himself clapping.
“I told you he’d be great!” Beth said, giving a little hop. Her eyes narrowed. “Oh look, it’s Kathy’s go next, the lucky thing. She’ll get to line up behind him.”
But that wasn’t the case. Jeff started directing those who were deemed confident enough to one side, allowing those who needed practice to have more runs. Ben joined Aaron soon after, but they were made to wait a good half-hour before Jeff determined that everyone was ready.
“The next part is simple,” Jeff said. He extended an arm. “The Dragonway lies in that general direction. As long as you maintain that flight path, your darzel will search out the Dragonway. If it starts banking and turning of its own accord, let it do so. The journey normally takes around fifteen minutes. Is everyone ready? Good, let’s go.”
Ben tugged on his darzel, and it started forwards. With a flap of the wings, it became airborne. Ben could feel the other students on their darzels nearby, most with grins plastered over their faces. Charlie was nearby, watching the passing trees with slight unease.
Ben was eager to see how fast his darzel could go, but knew such an experiment would meet a painful end. That would come soon, when he felt slightly more confident. It was still a thrill to stand on the darzel as it weaved its way through the forest, over bushes and occasionally even above the treetops, before diving back down through the branches to ground level. It must have been at least five minutes before he became used to the flight, allowing his heart rate to return to something approaching normal. He looked around and could see Charlie still alongside him and a couple of other students over to his left. The rest had now spread out, with everyone going at different speeds and taking slightly different routes to the Dragonway.
“Any idea where we are?” Ben shouted over to Charlie.
Charlie had both arms extended for balance and kept having to tuck them back in whenever they squeezed through narrow gaps. “I know we’re heading south, but that’s about it. This forest can’t go on forever, though.”
But the forest showed no sign of ending. At times it seemed to thin out, and Ben would find himself in a small clearing, before the trees closed in on him again. He was starting to wonder when they might reach their destination, when he caught a glimmer of something overhead, above the trees. For a second he thought it was just the sun catching his eye. It wasn’t.
A small tennis-ball-sized fireball sailed past him, and singed the grass below.
“What the—?”
Ben looked up again and heard laughter. Just above the tree line, flying directly above them, was Joshua.
— Chapter Four —
Fight and Rescue
“Good afternoon!” Joshua said cheerfully, giving him a wave and flashing his pearly white teeth. “I’ve been looking for you. I thought you’d be deeper into the forest, but then I forgot how slow you new apprentices are at flying.”
“Fascinating,” Ben said, feigning a yawn. Though he displayed an air of nonchalance, his heart rate had picked up the moment he saw Joshua. Here in the sky, he was at a distinct
disadvantage. It was immediately obvious that Joshua was a good rider. He tilted his body this way and that, in a graceful, almost lazy manner, directing the darzel left and right. With incredible skill, he dove between the trees, so that he was flying in between Ben and Charlie. He had already changed out of his school clothes and wore a pair of fashionable jeans and a V-neck t-shirt that hugged his athletic frame. His tousled, blond hair seemed unaffected by the wind, either by magic or, more likely, liberal amounts of gel.
“I thought we could play a game of jousting,” Joshua said.
“What’s that?” Ben asked cautiously. Joshua was able to look at him while talking, but Ben found that he felt ill at ease unless he was facing the direction he was flying.
“It’s quite simple. The first one to knock the other off wins.”
“That sounds fair,” Charlie said, from the other side of Joshua. “I mean, you’ve been riding these things for years, and Ben has been riding them for about twenty minutes.”
“That’s not my fault, is it?” Joshua said, flashing Charlie an annoyed frown. He turned back to Ben. “Of course, we don’t have to play if you’re too afraid.”
It was the crudest, most child-like insult, which Ben knew he should just ignore. He wouldn’t stand a chance. Joshua even knew how to get his darzel to spit fireballs, whereas Ben had only just mastered how to stay on at cruising speed. If he played the game, he would get humiliated, but if he declined the offer, he would be called a coward.
Ben wanted to say no, but something inside of him had a very difficult time turning down confrontations.
“I’m in,” Ben said. He was fairly certain he could see Charlie shaking his head from the corner of his eye. “When do we start?”
“Now!”
Without warning, Joshua banked right and careened right into Charlie, who fell screaming from his darzel. Ben whipped his head round and saw Charlie land, roll, and then sit up, rubbing his head. When he turned back, Joshua was nowhere to be seen.
Ben sent his darzel skywards until it cleared the trees. This time the exhilaration of the flight was swallowed by a mixture of determination and the thrill of fear. He accelerated, and the trees turned into a blur beneath him. Ben was now almost crouching to keep his balance, his fists white as they clutched the reins.
A flash of colour came from the corner of his eye.
Ben turned and saw Joshua flying right at him. His darzel had its mouth open and from within burst forth another mini fireball. Ben swerved and almost fell. The fireball passed harmlessly by, but Ben’s respite was temporary. Even as he wiped the sweat from his brow, he knew Joshua would be closing in again.
“Behind you!” Joshua said, with a laugh.
Ben turned round and saw Joshua’s darzel almost touching his. With a playful snap, Joshua’s darzel bit down on Ben’s darzel’s tail. There was a roar of anger, and Ben almost lost his balance as his darzel accelerated. But Joshua matched his pace and a moment later was snapping at his tail again. Ben swerved left and right, but Joshua, almost casually, managed to stay with him. Ben became increasingly desperate, but no matter what he did, Joshua followed him, and kept snapping at his darzel’s tail, making it increasingly agitated. Ben knew it was only a matter of time before he fell off.
“Come on, Ben, is this all you’ve got?” Joshua laughed.
This wasn’t going to end well, Ben realised grimly. There was only one thing left to try.
Ben crouched low, leant backwards, and jerked hard on the reins, causing his darzel to break, hard. It reared its neck and roared, spreading its wings to drag against the air and help it slow. Ben fell forwards, the force taking his feet clean off the darzel’s back. He lost grip of the reins and swiped his hands desperately in an attempt to recover them.
Joshua’s darzel crashed into them from behind. There was a crunch and a tangle of stubby arms and legs. Joshua cried out and they plummeted between the trees, the branches scratching Ben’s skin. The ground came up to greet him at an alarming rate and he had only a second to brace himself before impact. Ben felt the air knocked out of him. He rolled, before coming to a dizzy finish, lying face up on the grass. He groaned, but forced himself up, wiping the dirt from his eyes, searching for his darzel.
“He’s gone, I’m afraid,” Joshua said, climbing back onto his own darzel. “I can tell you’re certainly not Beastmaster material. That was terrible, what you just did to your darzel.”
Joshua tugged at the reins and was soon airborne, hovering just beneath the branches. He looked down at Ben and gave a smirk.
“Good luck finding the Dragonway. Just make sure you’re not late; you know how Dagmar detests that.”
Ben tried not to show the desperation in his face, but he must have failed, as Joshua gave a little laugh, and then steered his darzel away, into the forest.
Ben waited until he was out of sight, and then cursed loudly, kicking a nearby tree. Stupid! Why had he let Joshua bait him like that? He searched the area thoroughly for his darzel, but found nothing except broken branches and flattened grass.
Ben started walking, heading in the direction Joshua had taken. But he remembered Jeff’s words well. The darzel can detect the location of the Dragonway. Without them, you could search the forest all day and not find it.
He walked with a growing concern that soon turned into desperation. Unless by some miracle he stumbled upon the Dragonway soon, he was going to be late. As Joshua had pointed out, Dagmar did not like her apprentices turning up late. Though right now, turning up late was the least of Ben’s problems. Turning up at all was the issue. He resolved to give it half an hour. If he saw no sign of the Dragonway, he would turn back to Barrington, and explain what happened. Hopefully they were more forgiving than his old school.
Think positive thoughts. You’re not going to miss a great big Dragonway in the middle of the forest.
Ben was clinging somewhat desperately to that rationale when he heard a faint whooshing noise from behind him. A flapping noise.
“Ben!”
Ben turned, and saw Natalie weaving through trees, coming right for him. She landed smoothly, and hopped off her darzel.
“I thought I’d find you here somewhere,” she said. “I figured Joshua might look for you, so I followed his flight path. Are you okay? You look beaten up.”
Ben gave her a quick rundown of his meeting with Joshua and the subsequent game of jousting. To his surprise, he saw Natalie frowning at him.
“You really shouldn’t play those games with him. You’re bringing yourself down to his level.”
“I know, I know,” Ben said. “It’s a problem I have. Now, can we move on? How far are we from the Dragonway?”
“Only the darzel knows that.” She paused for a moment, and Ben thought her tanned face turned slightly red. “Come on, you’ll have to fly with me.”
Natalie stepped onto her darzel, and shuffled forwards a bit, allowing just enough room for Ben to get behind her. It was a tight squeeze.
“The foot mouldings on the harness will adjust themselves,” Natalie said.
Natalie was right. Ben felt the mouldings adapt and fit snugly around his shoes. As he looked up, he became aware how close he was to Natalie. His hands suddenly felt awkward. Where to put them? By his side?
“Hold on to my shoulders,” Natalie said, ending the dilemma.
Ben did so. He thought he felt Natalie respond to his touch and, for a minute, she didn’t move. Then suddenly the darzel took off smoothly, and started its journey through the trees.
In order to take his attention off Natalie, he forced himself to look around. They were easing in and out of trees at a speed Ben could never have managed. The forest soon became hilly and they started climbing gently before the hillside dropped dramatically, almost catching Ben off balance. Natalie guided her darzel expertly down the giant hill, until Ben could make out a break in the tree line ahead.
They emerged onto a large green field at the bottom of a valley, surrounded on all sides b
y hill-covered forests.
“Here we are,” Natalie said, coming to a gentle halt.
In front of them, right in the centre of the field, was a large barn that was big enough to house an airplane. In the middle was a set of wooden doors that had been opened. Light spilled out from the barn, as well as laughter, chatter and, most tellingly, smoke. Even as Ben admired the building, he saw several other students arrive on their darzels and enter the barn.
“Let’s wait for Charlie before going in,” Ben said. “He’ll be the last to arrive.”
“Sure,” Natalie said. Was there a hint of disappointment in her voice, or was he imagining it?
They watched more students arrive for the next fifteen minutes before Charlie finally appeared. He looked dishevelled, his brand new school clothes stained with mud, and there was a large bruise on his forehead.
“Remind me never to do that again,” Charlie said, as he stepped off his darzel, which then slithered away into the forest.
“Darzels are the first mode of transportation you must master as an apprentice,” Natalie said.
“Guess I’ll be doing lots of walking, then,” Charlie replied, as the three of them headed towards the barn door entrance. “What happened with you and Joshua in the end?”
Ben gave a brief account of their scuffle, but he was careful to omit the part where Natalie gave him a ride. He wasn’t sure if Charlie suspected anything, but thankfully the fight with Joshua became a distant memory the moment they entered the barn.
A pleasant warmth coupled with a vibrant energy permeated the inside. The station was similar to Croydon, except for the wooden beams you expect to find in a barn. There were high ceilings, which gave the place a far more spacious feel than the stations he was used to. Spanning the back of the barn was the track, and on it was a dragon, calmly surveying the scene with all the interest a cow might display while chewing grass. At either end of the barn, the tracks started to descend, plunging deep below ground.
