Pariah of Dragons

by Cordelia Castel

  “Actually, I came here to ask for help investigating the crime scene.”

  Her eyes brightened. “Really?”

  “I thought you might be able to see if the thief left any clues.”

  Evolene turned to Master Jesper, asking for silent permission.

  “We still need to complete the poison’s base, which will take another three hours.” The troll turned to me. “Do you have any homework?”

  I pulled off my knapsack and sat on the cot against the wall while they prepared the next round of ingredients. Master Jesper spoke in a gentle voice, informing Evolene of the properties of each ingredient and demonstrating how to prepare it for the poison. I flipped through my notes, looking for my half-completed Healing essay. Dr. Duclair wanted us to write about how a mage could use his connection with a dragon to affect a person’s mood.

  At a lull in their conversation, I said, “Two grooms were fighting yesterday about an enchanted dagger. One of them accused the other of stealing it.”

  Master Jesper shook its head. “This reminds me of my time in the Snowbergen Palace.”

  “Where?”

  “The Snow Queen’s fortress. Someone stole items from throughout the building, causing discord everywhere. Even Her Majesty’s favorite staff went missing, and she killed a hag and several trolls before we found the culprit.”

  “Who was it?”

  “An imp, sent by the mother of a murdered witch to cause discord.”

  “What happened to the imp in the end?”

  Master Jesper turned its head. “I would rather not say.”

  “She stole its power.”

  The troll nodded. “She was never quite the same after that. Imps are creatures of chaos. Absorbing its magic gave her a fresh perspective on how to escape her banishment. It also intensified her hatred for fairies and gave her the plan to banish them from this realm by exploding a mine of fairy iron.”

  I stared into the wisps of smoke dancing from the surface of the vat of poison. “How much fairy iron did you put in that?”

  “None. Too much of it in the atmosphere, and the spriggans will go into hiding the way the fairies did all those years ago.”

  “Isn’t fairy iron the only thing that kills spriggans?” I asked.

  “The scrolls say there’s an undetectable method more likely to cause their deaths. With the use of a fairy iron cauldron, trace amounts of the substance leeches into the poison. They won’t detect anything until they are in the throes of death.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “This isn’t like you. Why are you so willing to make the poison?”

  The troll lowered its head. “It is better to murder six spriggans than to risk every living being in our realm falling to the tyranny of the Forgotten King.”

  I nodded. It would be selfish for anyone to let the world fall to ruin because of their principles. A tendril of smoke wafted from the cauldron and wrapped around my arm. “What’s this?”

  “My apologies.” Master Jesper reached into its cloak and pulled out a pencil-sized staff. “The magic in the poison seems to recognize you as a threat. I will set you up as an exclusion, so it no longer bothers you.”

  “Thanks.” I dipped my head and skimmed through all the notes I’d gathered on the Forgotten King and his spriggans. One parchment I had taken from the archive room detailed how the Queen of the Fairies had torn off the forgotten King’s silver hair and wings, saying that a treacherous creature like him didn’t deserve beauty. The story went on to describe the mount he intended to use as the weapon against his wife: a creature of such wondrous beauty, the fairies had to banish it where no one would be corrupted by its gaze.

  Hours later, the door swung open, and Niger stepped into the room. His face softened into a smile. “I looked for you last night.”

  “Father called me to the royal suite.” I stuffed my papers into my knapsack and tapped the side of my cot. “He still suspects me of being involved with that business at the Magical Militia.”

  “Will he say something to the Witch General?”

  I shrugged. “He’s more likely to lock me up than report me.”

  Niger grimaced and lowered himself onto the cot next to me. “I hope they cast their suspicions elsewhere.”

  “So do I.”

  “Are you and Fyrian free tomorrow evening for drogott practice?” he asked in a low voice.

  “I’ll check.” Our connection had been mostly silent ever since the incident with the wild dragon. Each time I had tried to talk about what he had said, Fyrian cut me off, saying she didn’t want to discuss the subject. At times like this, I wish I could speak to another dragon. Realization struck like a boulder on the head. Any of the dragon masters could advise me on what to do about Fyrian… as long as they didn’t let Master Fosco know I’d approached a wild dragon without permission.

  I chewed my bottom lip. “Fyri?”

  After a moment of silence, she asked, “Yes?”

  “Niger wants to know if you’d like to practice drogott tomorrow after dinner.”

  She paused again, as though checking through reams of appointments. “I might be free.”

  “Great,” I injected my voice with as much cheer as I could muster. It should be a lot of fun. There was no point in ruining our first successful conversation by bringing up the wild dragon again. She would clam up with a muttered refusal to speak on the subject.

  I turned to Niger. “She says she might be free.”

  His brows lowered into a deep V. “Is there a Council of Dragons meeting?”

  “Not tomorrow,” said Master Jesper from behind the cauldron. “The next one isn’t for another few days.”

  Niger placed a hand on my shoulder. “Is everything all right between you and Fyrian?”

  “We talked to a wild dragon.”

  He hissed. “Did anyone not warn you to stay away?”

  “N-no,” I said in a small voice. “What do you know of them?”

  “Only what l learned in History of Dragons,” he replied.

  Evolene stepped out from behind the cauldron. “I-it takes a long time for them to get used to living in Mount Fornax. That’s why some are kept in a cage outside for a while before even being let into the holding stalls.”

  Niger nodded. “Most are happy to be reunited with dragons after living alone or in a hostile environment.”

  “Why didn’t they follow the others during the Great Dragon revolution?” I asked.

  “Some fell through the cracks in the fairy realms,” said Niger. “Others burned their own portals and escaped the fairies into the mortal realm. Only those who did not leave came here after the Great Dragon Revolution.”

  “How many wild dragons are there?” I asked.

  “When Albens was a student, Her Majesty caught one every two weeks or so.”

  “T-those were just the powerful dragons,” said Evolene. “There were teams to capture rapier reds and stray dragonets.”

  I scratched my head. “But what’s so dangerous about them?”

  “Some wild dragons have spent so much time on their own, they believe companionship is a weakness. Some are good at spreading misinformation, making young dragons doubt themselves and give the dragon favors in exchange for approval or for an idealized life outside Mount Fornax.”

  The memory of the wild dragon who had convinced a black female to burrow underground rolled to the front of my mind. “You don’t think he’s still trying to contact Fyrian?”

  “He isn’t,” she snapped. After a moment, she said in a quieter voice, “Actually, I’m ignoring him.”

  “What does he say?”

  “Nice things, most of the time, like how I’m the most interesting female he’s ever met. He says he has an island beyond the Unknown Continent with as many giant rabbits as a dragon can eat.”

  I shook my head. “It’s a lie.”

  Niger furrowed his brow. “Are you still talking to Fyrian?”

  “Yes. The wild dragon who got caught yesterday is tryin
g to talk to her.”

  He stood. “We must go and see what can be done about him. If he influences a clever dragon like Fyrian, we will all be doomed.”

  Evolene set down her pestle and mortar and picked up her staff and an invisibility cloak. “Shall we go and look through your room for clues?”

  Niger and I walked to my dorm together with Evolene trailing behind in an invisibility cloak. Tensions were still high about her escape from the Magical Militia prison, and she wasn’t taking any risks by venturing out without her new guardian and his diplomatic immunity.

  The closer I got to my dorm, the more my chest tightened. Whoever had ransacked my room obviously did so because he’d heard the rumor that I was royal. Why else would he venture into the room of a cadet? I paused at my door and let out a shuddering breath.

  Niger placed a hand on my shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  “The thought of someone rifling through my things makes me sick.”

  “Don’t worry,” said an invisible Evolene. “I can put things right after we’ve picked up some clues.”

  Niger grunted. “Whoever he was would have left his scent in your room. When I find him, we will duel.”

  I huffed a laugh. “How will you explain your reasons?”

  “In Mount Fornax, looking at a warrior the wrong way is grounds for a show of dominance. I will find a reason.”

  “We’d better go in.” I pushed the door open and glanced down at my boots. Seeing the ransacked room once was enough for me.

  Evolene gasped, and Niger growled. I groaned. “Terrible, isn’t it?”

  “H-he was certainly thorough,” she said.

  “Did you keep anything of importance in your room, like an amulet?” asked Niger.

  “Just a bag of gold.”

  Niger snarled. “What kind of a person would do such a thing?”

  I shrugged. Obviously, someone was in great need of funds.

  White light filled the room, and items rose from where the burglar had left them strewn. Evolene rested the butt of her staff on the ground. “This is a spell that puts things back to their original place. Some people use it if they want to make a place appear like it hasn’t been disturbed.”

  “That means the culprit was not a witch,” said Niger.

  Evolene shook her head. “A witch wouldn’t leave the scene of their crime in such a state.”

  “Unless she didn’t want anyone tracing her magic,” I muttered.

  “T-true,” said Evolene. “It wasn’t me.”

  I let out a discreet breath through my nostrils. “I know you’re not a thief.”

  “Oh,” she cried.

  “What?”

  “I-I found a scrap of byssum. Riders wear silk and leather, right?”

  “That’s right.” I stared down at the scrap she held in her palm. Byssum was a fine linen made from a plant that formed balls of fluff. “Do you think this belonged to the burglar?”

  “Possibly. There’s a spell that can identify the type of person who last touched an item. I’ll get Master Jesper to teach it to me.”

  I gave her my warmest smile. How could anyone suggest she could be a bad influence? “Thanks.”

  “And when we find the person who did this, we duel,” said Niger.

  Chapter 8

  Although Evolene took away clues and straightened up my room, it felt strange to sleep there after a thief had been rifling through my things. Master Jesper’s story of an imp causing discord might have been true, but such creatures didn’t need to ransack a room to find a bag of gold. That night, I slept on the common room sofa, and the next morning Stafford and I found Eyepatch scowling at his station. The usual breakfast rolls, cheese, omelet, and cooked meats were laid out on the table, but something was missing.

  “Good morning, Mr. Cobbs.” I glanced at the tureen. “Any chance of some porridge this morning?”

  The right side of his face twisted with anguish. “All the oats went missing last night. We’re out until someone can go down to the oat fields and harvest some.”

  “Oh.” I frowned. “Sorry to hear that. Has anything else been taken?”

  “Master Torreo is threatening to flame the blighter who took his filleting knife.” Eyepatch cut open a small bread roll and loaded it with a thin slice of orvoli omelet and sausages, which he carved into slivers. Then he placed a dollop of tomato and onion relish and a dab of mustard.

  “Does he know who took it?” I asked.

  He wrapped my roll in a parchment napkin. “Who’s got the guts to steal from a dragon?”

  I took the roll from eyepatch. “Thanks. Do you think someone’s trying to cause trouble?”

  “If they are, they’re going about it the right way.” He reached for a large bread roll for Stafford and sliced it open. “Each mealtime, there’s at least two fights over missing property. People don’t even bother to stage duels anymore!”

  Eyepatch loaded Stafford’s roll with an entire fried orvoli egg, boar bacon, whole sausages, and several slices of hollow cheese. Then he slopped a generous serving of capsicum relish and firebrand mustard. “I know you like chili chutney, but that’s gone missing, too.”

  Stafford’s eyes gleamed. “That’s fine, Mr. Cobbs. It looks delicious.”

  Eyepatch offered us a weak smile. “Enjoy your breakfast, boys.”

  Since our first lesson of the day would be held in a windowless classroom, we headed out of the mess hall and into the sunny terrace. A fresh breeze blew over my skin, filling my lungs with cool air. The grass no longer crunched underfoot but felt a little moist as though it had rained sometime during the night. I glanced up at the thin blanket of clouds covering the sky, which let in streams of sunlight. Perhaps someone had fixed the weathervane and created some temperate weather for once.

  “Did Madam Maritimus work out who stole your gold?” Stafford took a bite out of his breakfast roll.

  “I couldn’t risk another interrogation, so I went to Evolene and Master Jesper instead. She took a few clues away to study.”

  “Oh.” He lowered his roll and dipped his head. “How is she?”

  I paused. “Have you spoken to Evolene yet?”

  Stafford’s shoulders hunched around his ears. “She’s got Phoenix, now. And King Magnar.”

  “She didn’t mention Phoenix yesterday,” I said. “And I think she’s avoiding her new guardian and his sisters.”

  We continued along the terrace in silence, munching on our breakfast rolls. Stafford stamped on a stair stone and activated an upward flight. When we reached the surface, he asked, “Is she all right, then?”

  “Why don’t you go to the laboratory and ask her for yourself?”

  He took the stairs two at a time, muttering, “It will be awkward now. I was supposed to rescue her, and those witches made me crawl on the floor instead.”

  I hurried after him. “Don’t you think she might have been too busy trying not to drown to notice them humiliating you?”

  At the top of the stairs, he paused and bowed his head. “I still can’t face her.”

  “Hold on a minute.” I caught up with him and grabbed his forearm. “You’re the man who wanted to give up your career as a dragon mage to be with her in Tundra. Now you’re telling me you can’t even say hello because you’re embarrassed?”

  He jerked his head away. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Why?” I scowled. If this was anything to do with being female, I would smack some sense into him. There was no shame in falling to a stronger enemy, as long as the victim bided their time to fight back at the first opening.

  “Because you’re a hero,” he said through clenched teeth. “I’m just the sidekick who gets hurt.”

  I gave him a hard shove on the arm. “You’re an idiot.”

  “What?”

  “While I was seeking out diplomatic solutions, who immediately rushed to her defense?”

  “Me.” He clutched his breakfast roll with both hands, letting a bit of relish plop onto
the lawn.

  “Who stowed away underneath a flying carriage to infiltrate the Magical Militia in a one-man rescue mission?”

  His lips curled into a smile. “Me.”

  “And who risked everything to get a chance to visit Evolene in her prison cell?”

  A flush of pink bloomed across his cheeks. “Stop making me sound like something out of a romantic scroll.”

  “Some girls would consider themselves lucky to have a suitor like you.” And if Father’s behavior at the Warrior Queen was any indication, he wanted Stafford as a son-in-law. I didn’t bother to share that information. It would only lead to awkwardness.

  His brows rose. “Even newly adopted Princesses?”

  I bumped his shoulder. “She was just the same old Evolene when I saw her yesterday. King Magnar’s new guardianship doesn’t suddenly make her anything like Astri and Botilda.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “Evolene hasn’t gotten any airs or graces. Visit her and see for yourself.”

  He set his jaw and squared his shoulders. “I’ll do it now.”

  I grabbed his wrist. “After flying safety. Master Klauw saw us in the mess hall. If you don’t turn up, he’ll have your hide.”

  We sat on a low boulder overlooking the Great Lake and watched the blue dragons swimming deep within the water’s surface. The way they danced around each other reminded me of winged fish, except the dragons had serpentine tails that curled beautifully with their flowing movements. One of them had scales so pale, they were almost white, which reminded me of the wild dragon.

  I chomped down hard on my breakfast roll. Something had to be done about that manipulative, iridescent wretch. He couldn’t continue trying to speak to Fyrian. She wasn’t weak-minded and didn’t appreciate his attempts to befriend her. Perhaps he thought he was the first ever to try manipulating a younger dragon into securing his freedom. I swallowed hard. It wouldn’t work. Fyrian had more sense than to listen to him, but I still hated the thought of him trying to poison her mind.

  Stafford finished his roll and wiped his hands on his breeches. “Are you ready?”