WarMage- Unrestrained

by Martha Carr

  “Not bad, actually. I have no idea who puts it all out, but there’s a huge table of breakfast in the dormitory every morning. And having Leander there with me all the time is the best part. It’s probably the biggest reason Headmaster Flynn wanted me to move onto the grounds.”

  “And your grandfather too, I bet.” He nodded.

  “You’re guessing about that, right? Because I can’t get anyone to tell me anything about where he went or what he wanted. All he told me was that Flynn would know what to do. Who knows? Maybe the headmaster took a few wild guesses and hoped that having me on the grounds night and day would be better than letting me go home.”

  The man chuckled. “Would you agree with him, though? That it’s better?”

  “Yes.” Raven smiled at him and shook her head. “I miss him, though. And I’d like to know that he’s okay. Maybe even where he is.”

  “I know, Raven. But trust me. In all the years I’ve worked for Connor Alby, running deliveries and odd errands into town, I’ve learned a fair amount about the man. Three things come to mind above everything else.” The ranch hand counted on his fingers and slowed a little as they approached the top of the hill and the dragon crouched on it. “He doesn’t do anything without a good reason for it. Those good reasons are weighed against the alternative, over and over, until he’s sure of it. And he would never put anyone in harm’s way if there wasn’t a way to pull them out again, including himself. And you, of course.”

  “Right. I appreciate the pep talk.”

  Deacon hissed a laugh and waved casually, the other hand thrust deep into the pocket of his trousers. “Uh-huh.”

  “I’m not worried about him, Deacon. Not really. I miss him already, which is weird because he’s only been gone a few days.”

  “That’s a long time when you’ve had a person greet you every morning before you head out and every evening when you come home. I understand.”

  “And I wish he’d given me more to go on. A little information isn’t too much to ask for, is it?”

  “No, Raven. It’s not. Believe me, I’d love to know why Connor Alby was so suddenly willing to pay his ranch hands a significantly higher wage after a decade and a half of being one of the most frugal men I know. But he likes to keep his business to himself and there’s where I have to draw the line. The rest is out of my hands.”

  But not out of mine. Grandpa still should have told me something.

  They stopped a few yards away from Leander, who remained utterly motionless now as he stared at the ranch hand who walked beside the mage in training. A slow, slightly nervous whistle petered out between Deacon’s lips. “That is one gigantic creature you got there, girl.”

  Raven pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t laugh. “He’s not even standing up.”

  “Does, uh…” He licked his lips. “Does he get too nervous with people around?”

  “Are you saying you want to meet my dragon familiar, Deacon? Up close?”

  “Aw, now, I wouldn’t go that far with it, necessarily—”

  “Leander? This is my friend Deacon. He’s worked with my grandfather for a long time and wants to come say hi. What do you think?”

  The red dragon’s tail whispered across the grass on the top of the hill. “As long as he doesn’t try to pet me.” The hardened ridges of Leander’s lips parted to reveal glistening rows of razor-sharp teeth.

  “Oh, now…” Deacon swallowed.

  “Again, he’s messing with you.” Raven tugged on his elbow and gestured up the hill. “Come on. At the very least, it’ll give you a story the other ranch hands won’t grow tired of you telling for the next few weeks.”

  He frowned at her and looked completely startled. “Who’s been bad-mouthing my stories?”

  “What? No one. Not that I’ve heard, anyway. He’s perfectly safe, Deacon. I promise.”

  “As long as I don’t try to pet him.”

  “Well, yeah. Don’t do that.” I’m not gonna make Leander promise not to bite if he doesn’t want to be touched. Raven waved the ranch hand along behind her until they stopped a few feet from where the red dragon crouched in the grass. “Deacon, meet Leander. Leander, Deacon.”

  “Uh…how…how do you do?” The man gasped and his mouth dropped open when the dragon chose that moment to raise his belly off the grass and stand to his full height. “Woah… It’s a good thing I left Presley in her pen.”

  “Probably,” Leander rumbled.

  “Hey.” Raven laughed, stepped toward her dragon, and extended her hand to stroke the top of his muscular shoulder. “Don’t scare the man half to death, okay? He was brave enough to come all the way up here because he wanted to meet you.”

  “I’m not so sure I’d call it bravery at this point, girl.” Deacon stared with wide eyes at Leander and didn’t move a muscle.

  “Normally, I wouldn’t call it that, either.” The dragon stretched his wings, tucked them again, and lowered his head. “But you asked permission and you’re a friend of Raven’s. I’d call that…refreshing.” His lips peeled back again in an even wider grin to show almost all his teeth.

  “Leander…”

  “Ah. Now.” Deacon nodded and reached for Raven like he tried to put his hand on her shoulder, but she stood too far away. He finally gave that up and snatched the wide-brimmed hat off his head before he held it in front of him with both hands. “I appreciate your time, Leander. And I think I’ll return to work now.”

  “Enjoy your evening,” Leander responded.

  “Uh-huh. You…you too.”

  “Good to see you, Deacon.” Raven waved cheerfully. “Have a good night.”

  “Raven.” The man backed down the hill, unwilling to turn his back on the first dragon he’d met face to face—or seen up close in his entire life.

  The dragon lowered himself again briefly so she could swing into the saddle, and the ranch hand laughed in surprise.

  “Girl, you look exactly like your mother when she had the itch to take out one of her horses. Of course, I…I know this creature is not a horse.”

  “Not even close.” Raven grinned as Leander stood fully again and spread his wings.

  “And he lets you climb on up like that to go flying around?”

  She leaned forward to stroke the dragon’s neck and gave him a gentle pat. “You know, Leander and I are alike that way. No one really lets us do anything. It’s merely a good connection that gets me up in this saddle.”

  “It’s as simple as that,” Leander added.

  “Uh-huh.” Deacon glanced over his shoulder to where Patrick stood beside Connor Alby’s house with a gaping jaw. “Okay, Raven. You…fly safe.”

  With a laugh, she waved again. “See you soon. Bye, Ed.”

  The other ranch hand lifted a jerky hand in farewell, his fingers as stiff as if they’d been carved from wood.

  Raven glanced at the sky streaked with orange, pink, and purple, and her dragon familiar beat his mighty wings as he sprang into the air to take them home. She allowed herself a loud whoop and pressed her hands against the ridges of Leander’s back and slid her feet out of the stirrups to test her theory again. That’s a good thing to put on the list of familiar training later.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  On the Alby Ranch that night beneath the stars, the dwarf goats woke in their pen, bleated and jumped in sudden anxiety, and wobbled and milled in confusion. The ground rumbled beneath the center of the ranch, and a thin, snaking trail of upturned dirt cut a path through the fields toward the small cabin Connor Alby shared with his granddaughter.

  A few goats screamed when the earth trembled beneath them and made the gates of the pen screech and groan under the shifting weight. The upturned earth paused for a moment before the trail resumed. It cut around the cabin and moved slowly, its senses probing the darkness ahead.

  The Skiffling that tunneled beneath the surface moved around the house in search of the source that had called it there in the first place. Abruptly, it darted beneath the A
lby cabin and a second later, the floorboards of the main room splintered upward and churned within the whirlpool of earth. A single, undulating tentacle thrust from below and flopped once against the floor. It straightened, waved like a banner, and opened the glistening pincer at the end. The cabin was silent, of course, but the pull of the Swarm’s consciousness was stronger than silence, even when there was nothing in the house that would try to escape.

  The wooden floors shivered and shattered again as the tentacle stretched even farther. It whipped toward the empty hearth in the wall and slapped against the wood until it bumped against Connor Alby’s old metal trunk. Retracting only briefly, the snaking appendage slipped around the corner of the trunk and jerked it quickly away from the wall. It thumped the floor again, retreated, and slithered into the massive hole in the living room before it vanished completely.

  What the Swarm wanted had been there but now, it was gone.

  A lantern flared to life in the closest cabin—another hand had lived closer only a few months before, but the man had gone too far with his drinking and burned the whole place down. He lifted his lantern even higher as he stepped outside in the darkness. “Those damn goats. I took this job knowing full well it’s a goat ranch, but I don’t know what the hell I’m doing with a herd of noisy animals in the middle of the night.”

  Grumbling to himself, he stalked up the dirt road toward Connor Alby’s cabin and the pen in front of it. Shadows danced along the posts of the enclosure and the roofed shelter where the animals slept. The bleating settled a little, but the animals still bucked and kicked in agitation. A few of them simply stood and trembled.

  “Are you shittin’ me right now? None of you made a peep with that damn dragon sittin’ up on that hill earlier but now, you’re bouncin’ around like you’ve all lost your tiny goat minds.” The sound of a voice they recognized quieted the animals even more until only a few soft, unsure cries rose from the back of the pen. Patrick laughed despite how much he didn’t appreciate being woken up by this nonsense. “See? There’s nothin’ here, you tiny little—”

  A loud creak rose from the front of Connor’s cabin, followed by a bang and a loud crash of wood falling on wood.

  “What the hell?” The ranch hand glanced at the goats again, then lifted his lantern a little higher and approached the house. The firelight flickered across the screened-in porch and illuminated the giant gap where the screen door usually was. Now, the entire thing lay half on the steps, fallen completely off its frame. Patrick looked up higher at the slanting angle of the roof, then down at the warped boards of the porch. “Huh. It’s only an old cabin shifting. I wonder how we didn’t catch that during the day?”

  Weariness and irritation warred within and Patrick’s mouth stretched in a wide yawn as he shrugged. I’ll get Samuel to help me line everything up again in the morning. If Connor gets back and his house is all off-kilter, there’s no way in hell we’ll see those raises he promised.

  The man turned—without further thought about stepping inside his employer’s house to take a closer look—and headed down the narrow slope of the dirt road toward his cabin. A goat bleated in protest when he passed, and he moved the lantern to illuminate the pen briefly. “You know, I think you are dumber than you look. Huh. You’re more scared of a door than a dragon.”

  Before he reached the few steps up to his porch—much smaller than Mr. Alby’s—a tremor passed through the ground. He stumbled forward and the lantern swung wildly in his hand, but he managed to catch himself on the porch railing. In the darkness, he thought he saw the dirt rise in a mound before it rippled across the road. In the next moment, it was gone and the tremor faded.

  “Damn earthquakes. They make me see things.” With a snort, he shook his head and trudged to bed to sleep the rest of the night uninterrupted.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The rest of the week had passed in a blur of classes and training and flying, and it now began to catch up to her. Raven had misjudged how much time she had left when she returned to the girls’ dormitory the morning before the spring gala. She’d fed Leander before dawn and sat to talk to him for a while, then she’d hurried to her room to retrieve her satchel for the start of her school day as a mage in training. When she stepped into the common room of the girls’ dormitory, only a few of the other girls were up. They all mumbled sleepily and yawned as they filled small plates with breakfast from the almost overflowing banquet table along the left wall.

  The weather’s changing into spring, now. The light comes earlier but class times don’t change. Raven eyed the table and the pile of steaming, freshly baked rolls. It’s better than being late.

  She stopped at the table and had to pull the sleeves of her jacket over her hands to keep from burning her fingers on the rolls. Rather than sit anywhere, she took them with her to her room on the third floor.

  The door was already open. Elizabeth sat in her bed, her legs crossed beneath her and her eyes closed, but she’d already dressed for the day. She rocked forward a little, then jerked her head up. Her bat familiar lay sprawled in her lap.

  “Are you tired?” Raven asked softly, not wanting to startle the girl.

  “I stayed up too late,” her roommate mumbled as her head jerked again. “I couldn’t stop reading.”

  Chuckling, Raven knelt in front of her bed and pulled out the oilskin bag. “Did you turn the light on after I passed out?”

  Her roommate’s only response was a long, drawn-out groan.

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Breakfast is out, though. Or do you want one of my rolls? I’ve eaten these first thing in the morning since orientation.”

  Elizabeth swayed a little where she sat and held her hand out. “Yes, please.”

  She laughed, took two huge steps across the room, and placed a piping hot roll in her hand. “Careful, it’s hot—”

  The girl crammed the entire thing into her mouth with a deep breath and didn’t react to the temperature. Her eyes fluttered open and she turned to look at Raven with drooping eyelids. “That helps.”

  “Good.”

  “I’ll see you in…whatever class we have together.” Elizabeth slid off her bed, swung her satchel over her shoulder, and scooped her familiar up with one arm. The bat squeaked and almost toppled onto the bed before it dug into her shirt with the hooked claws on his wings. Without another word, the young witch and her familiar shuffled out into the hall to make their way downstairs.

  “And I thought I was bad without enough sleep.” She chuckled again and shook her head before she returned her attention to Connor’s oilskin bag on the floor. Quickly, she unbuckled the straps and opened it wide enough to stare at all the things she hadn’t yet found a better hiding place for. Connor’s two journals were stacked together beside the now completely red orb her grandfather had given her. She turned it a few times and frowned. There isn’t even a little streak of white now. I wish this thing came with a timeline for when danger strikes.

  She rolled it aside and picked up the black drawstring bag that used to hold the orb but now held her grandfather’s shrunken Skiffling skull instead. “Bixby’s gonna love this, though.”

  With the skull in hand, she pushed to her feet and moved to the window to look out at the field and the dragon pen on the other side of the stables. “It’s all quiet with no angry dragon fire. He’s still flying high after yesterday. Almost literally.”

  Laughing at herself, she eased the drawstring bag with the shrunken skull into her satchel, took the first journal out of the oilskin bag, and sat on the edge of the bed. I still have time before classes. I might as well make the most of it.

  Raven opened the journal and flipped through it, looking for the Magic Meld spell again. I should’ve marked the page.

  “Have you found anything good in there yet?”

  She almost leapt to her feet when Bella Chase’s voice filled her dorm room. She jerked her head up to where the girl stood in the open doorway, her arms folded. Her firedrake familiar sat
on her shoulder, his long, thin tail curled around the back of her neck. “Yeah, actually. What are you doing here?”

  “Well, I showed up a little early. You know, to get a quick head start on the day.”

  “I wouldn’t call half an hour a little early.” She closed the journal again slowly and tried not to draw too much attention to it. “I meant why are you standing outside my room?”

  “Right.” The girl raised and lowered her eyebrows and her gaze settled on the journal Raven inched casually across her lap. “Teresa told me about those journals.” She didn’t say anything else but bit her bottom lip and frowned a little at the source of her interest.

  “I’m sure the library has what you’re looking for.”

  “It doesn’t.” Bella swallowed and tossed her hair over the shoulder not currently occupied by her familiar. “I already checked.”

  Raven studied the girl who’d been her rival at Fowler Academy since day one and fought a scowl. What did Teresa tell her about these journals? “Okay…” She set the journal behind her on the bed and folded her hands in her lap. “Maybe if you tell me what you’re looking for, I can help you find it.”

  “Actually, I—oh. Can I come in?”

  For a moment, she simply stared, too surprised to answer. Bella Chase politely asked for my permission. Maybe that’s the danger Grandpa’s orb is warning me about. That thought brought a laugh bubbling up through her, but she squashed it hastily and cleared her throat. “Sure, Bella. Come on in.”

  Those are the weirdest two sentences I’ve said all year.

  Bella inclined her head but didn’t say thank you, then took a few slow, hesitant steps into the dorm room and looked around. “I guess it’s kind of…cozy in here.”

  “It works. So, about what you’re trying to find at the library.”

  Looking quickly at Raven again, she shook her head. “No…what I think I might find in that journal of yours.”