Pariah of Dragons

by Cordelia Castel

  “If he does, then he can’t be a good friend.”

  “It’s not so simple, Fyri. Would you still want to send messages to the palace if Aunt Cendrilla had decided to send you back to Master Fosco?”

  “She wouldn’t have done that. Auntie Rilla loved us.”

  I smiled. “Imagine if she did that. Would you want to see her again?”

  “I… I’d like to, but I’d always wonder why she didn’t want me.”

  “See?” I gave her scales a gentle rub. “Breaking up is difficult.”

  Before she could reply, Niger hurled a speeding fireball through Fyrian’s forelegs.

  “Hey!” I shouted.

  He burst into laughter. “What were you waiting for? A lesson?”

  Fyrian dove after the fireball, just as something arched over my head. I stretched up and snatched it out of the air with both hands. “That’s cheating!”

  “No… That is drogott!”

  The rest of the session continued with Niger producing fireballs in quick succession and throwing them at the goal. Fyrian dipped, turned, and looped, trying to stop the balls before they reached their destination. Half the time, we failed, but it was the most exhilarating game I’d ever played.

  “Speak for yourself,” snapped Fyrian. “You’re not the one who has to listen to Flavo’s taunts.”

  I laughed. “Aren’t you friends?”

  “He’s all right, I suppose. For some reason, he thinks he’s my elder.”

  “Most dragons are older than you.”

  She growled. “That doesn’t mean they should keep bringing it up!”

  By the time Niger had tired of producing and directing fireballs over the arena, he let them dissipate into sparks and signaled for us to fly back to the mountain.

  “That was fun,” said Fyrian. “I should never have let that stupid wild dragon get between us.”

  I wrapped my arms around her neck and squeezed. “It’s great that you shook off his influence, and I’m sorry to have ever brought you to see him.”

  Niger flew Flavo back toward the mountain, past the dry part with the narrow terraces, and to the side with the waterfalls. My heart soared at the beautiful scenery. Stars shone down from the cloudless sky, making the waterfalls appear like streams of quicksilver spilling from the mountain. Flavo landed on a terrace in one of the middle levels, and Fyrian settled herself next to him.

  I slipped off her back and walked over to where Flavo now sat on his haunches. The sound of crashing water filled the air, muffling my footsteps but doing nothing to block the pounding between my ears. I swallowed hard. How could I phrase needing to break up with him because of an ancient law that protected witches from deadly unions?

  Niger strode over to me, brows furrowed. Moonlight Shone through the ends of his hair, making them glow like bronze lamps. “Are you and Rufus arguing?”

  “Kind of. He knows who I am.”

  He drew back. “How?”

  I raised a shoulder. “He’s observant, I suppose. We weren’t very discreet, either.”

  “Rufus will not say anything.”

  He took my hand and led me to toward the edge of the waterfall. The roar of the water filled my ears, giving me the courage to speak.

  “You know there’s no long-term potential with us, don’t you?”

  Niger’s shoulders stiffened, but he continued behind the waterfall, not replying for several moments. Then he turned to what appeared to be an alcove which led to a cave containing a shimmering pool. Moonlight streamed through windows of transparent sandstone, adding to the magical effect.

  I tore my gaze away from the beautiful sight and cleared my throat. “Niger, did you hear what I said?”

  He let go of my hand and turned, not making eye contact. “I thought things might be different with you, since you are a quarter-human. Fairies are compatible with ogres. Look at Her Majesty.”

  “Who had an ogre mother.” I placed a hand on his bicep. “No one knows what will happen when the fairy is female, and the ogre is male.”

  “Your mother—”

  “Got pregnant because Queen Cendrilla accidentally cursed her into a half-ogre. And it nearly killed her.”

  Niger’s eyes shuttered closed and he exhaled a sharp breath. Unlike me, he’d been thinking about the witch protection laws. He grabbed my hand, and we continued to a ledge at the far wall of the cave, and Niger sat, pulling me down next to him. “Is there not someone who can test our compatibility?”

  “Maybe.” I glanced up at him. “Are you that serious about us?”

  His brows furrowed. “You saw me as a temporary diversion?”

  “No!” I placed my hand over his heart. “I wasn’t thinking about the future. So much has happened here that I’m always preoccupied with one problem or another.”

  The corner of his lip curved. “Like stolen dragon eggs or witches in distress.”

  I gazed down at my lap and shrugged. “Something like that.”

  “Alba.”

  My head snapped up. I don’t think he had ever referred to me by name. “Yes?”

  “If I speak to my brother and tell him of my intentions, would you accept my courtship?”

  I blew out a long breath. Maybe we had a chance. Master Jesper had said my bond with Fyrian had given me unlimited power levels. That speed drill we had done was proof we had fully bonded. The law protecting witches might not apply to me, considering I was a dragon mage. I parted my lips, ready to agree, when a fist squeezed my heart. I hissed through my teeth and flinched.

  His brows drew together. “No?”

  “Damsel denial.” I rubbed my chest.

  He snarled. “That wretched King.”

  “I’m working on that. He’s agreed to waive it if I help him regain his kingdom.”

  “He should never have ensnared you with trickery in the first place!”

  I placed my hand on his. “It’s done now. But when he frees me, I would be happy to say yes on a few conditions.”

  Niger beamed. “That is wonderful—”

  “We’d have to have our magic checked by Dr. Duclair to see if we’re compatible, and you’d have to speak to—”

  He placed a finger on my lips. “Change.”

  My eyes widened. “Hmmm?”

  “There are no interfering bluebirds. We are free to do whatever we like.”

  I drew back and clicked my fingers. “Thunderbird.”

  Niger’s eyes softened. He cupped my cheek in his large hand and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. “You are the most beautiful creature in the Known World.”

  I smiled. “You’re just saying th—”

  His lips met mine in a soft kiss, and my eyes fluttered shut. I was thankful the damsel denial only prevented me from considering other offers of marriage and courtship. It seemed to allow me to kiss anyone I wanted. Before I could relax into his embrace, he drew back.

  I blinked my eyes open. “What’s wrong?”

  “You said yes.” He beamed.

  “But I’ll have to win back Savannah from the spriggans. There’s no telling how long that will take.”

  He shook his head. “I have seen you perform the most impossible feats. If anyone can stop the spriggans, it will be you, and I will fight at your side.”

  I threw my arms around Niger and squeezed tight. “As soon as Dr. Duclair has proven us magically compatible, I’ll start dropping hints to Father that I’ve found someone. He feels guilty for betrothing me to King Magnar, so I doubt he’ll object.”

  He laced his fingers through mine, pulled me to my feet and swept me into a dizzying kiss. “I hope not.”

  Later, I restored my disguise. When we emerged from the cave, it was to find Fyrian sitting with a turquoise dragon.

  “Where did Flavo go?” I asked.

  “He doesn’t like waterfalls, so he left.”

  I could barely remember anything about the flight back, except for Niger’s arms around my middle and the way he always smelled of an oncoming th
understorm. Fyrian stopped us at the terrace closest to the dormitories and flew off to her own stall.

  We walked the hallways in silence, keeping a respectful distance from each other. There was no point in getting caught before we could prove to the likes of Mother, Father, and Rufus that my magic was compatible with Niger’s.

  A large figure darted out from the staircases. He stood eight-feet-tall and half as wide. Where a nose should have been stood a curved horn of ivory.

  Niger snarled. “Asproceros!”

  The ogre dropped a bottle, spreading the scent of corn spirit across the hallway. I clenched my teeth. Stealing dragonets wasn’t enough for the greedy ogre. After the incidents with the locusts, Mount Fornax needed the funds it made from corn spirits more than ever!

  “Fyri, tell Master Fosco I’ve found him!”

  “Who?”

  “Asproceros!”

  The ogre sprinted down the hallway with the speed of a wildebeest fleeing from an ambush of midnight tigers. We gave chase, dodging the bottles Asproceros threw over his shoulders.

  “Don’t waste that!” I shouted.

  Niger skidded on a patch of corn spirit. “He is too fast.”

  I withdrew my parched sword. “Oi, poacher! You’re leaving a trail of alcohol. If I light it, you’ll go up in flames.”

  He rounded the corner with a clink of bottles.

  Niger pulled out his Smoker, a thick sword with three holes on its rounded tip. Runes ran down its blade to channel the toxic smoke of yellow dragons. “If that does not work, I will suffocate him.”

  As we rounded the corner, a massive fist smashed into my face. Before the pain could even register, everything went black.

  Chapter 15

  “Alba?” A voice meandered around the edge of my consciousness.

  The pounding in my head muffled the voice, and I cracked my eyes open. Harsh light stung my pupils. Wincing, I sucked in a sharp breath. Then a memory of a huge fist crashing into my face slammed to the forefront of my mind. A groan slipped from my lips. What happened to Niger?

  A young witch I recognized from the time I was in the Healer’s Academy with clearscale peered down at me, green eyes wide.

  “Dr. Duclair, Cadet Bluford is awake!”

  I closed my eyes again and exhaled.

  “Sorry,” whispered Fyrian. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  Before I could mumble a reply, white light flashed through my eyelids, and I fell unconscious again. Time must have passed, but I couldn’t be sure how long. When I opened my eyes, the pounding faded into a vague throb, and Madam Maritimus sat at my bedside.

  I jolted. “Huh?”

  A small, feathery figure shifted on my collarbone. “Alba!”

  “Mother?”

  “Cadet Bluford, there’s no need to give a witness statement, as Cadet Griffon’s was very detailed,” said Madam Maritimus. “But can you remember anything unusual about the blow?”

  “Umm…” My mind rocked back to that unbelievably hard punch. “He didn’t feel like flesh.”

  She leaned forward, excitement glimmering in her eyes. “What did you feel? Metal, fabric, a slippery membrane?”

  “It was scratchy.” I swallowed. “Fabric.”

  The soft weight disappeared off my collarbone, and mother flew behind the bedside table and transformed. She poured a glass of water and placed it to my lips. “Drink.”

  “Thanks.” Cool liquid slid past my dry tongue and moistened my throat. I blinked a few times, trying to clear the fog of slumber from my mind. “What does the fabric mean?”

  “There are three types of invisibility cloaks used by criminals. We believe this is the one that makes its wearer undetectable by wards. A clever piece of magic that contains a ward of its own that assimilates to the magical frequency of the properties it wishes to penetrate.”

  I glanced down at my lap. It didn’t seem that Madam Maritimus knew anything about its creator. “But we could see him.”

  “True,” she replied. “I looked into the records for the hallway and only found traces of you and Cadet Griffon. It must mean the visual undetectability aspect of his cloak is waning in power.”

  “Right.” I swallowed another mouthful of water.

  “Didn’t Evolene say she sold lots of cloaks to that poacher?” asked Fyrian. “What if he has another one?”

  “We’ll have to speak to her about ways to counter it.”

  Madam Maritimus stood. “Thank you, Cadet.”

  “Ummm…” I glanced at the older witch and swallowed. What I was about to tell her might reveal how we had returned to Mount Fornax with Evolene after she had closed the wards, but I had to speak up. Asproceros might take advantage of the security breach and disappear with the dragonets. “Do you know about the tunnel by the lightning tree? It leads to a hole in the wards.”

  Her lips twisted into a tight smile. “It won’t let anyone in or out of Mount Fornax who doesn’t already belong there.”

  I opened my mouth, about to tell her that King Magnar’s youngest sister, Piper, had snuck through to Mount Fornax but closed it. That had been the librarian in disguise. He would have been keyed to the wards already.

  Madam Maritimus left, and Mother pressed her lips on my forehead. “This place is too dangerous for a little girl. Your father wanted to have you taken to the palace to have Dr. Streamer take care of you.”

  “Why her?”

  Mother smoothed my hair off my face. “She’s the foremost expert on fairy physiology and the only witch ever allowed into Elphame to learn medicine.”

  I shook my head. The dull ache sharpened, and I winced. “The last time I stayed with Father, he betrothed me to a warlord he’d never met.”

  Mother lowered herself into the seat next to the bed and crossed her legs. “What’s wrong with King Magnar? He seems nice enough to me. Young and handsome, too.”

  I reared back, staring into Mother’s wide, obsidian eyes.

  “She’s been flying over that poppy field,” said Fyrian. “Remember what those flowers did to you?”

  “Either that or his sisters enchanted her,” I replied.

  “Are you all right, Mother?” I reached out with my hand.

  She wrapped her fingers around mine and squeezed. “Why? Because I think King Magnar is a good choice?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Didn’t anyone tell you all the things he did?”

  “In protection of his country and sisters.” She raised a shoulder. “People have done worse for a lot less.”

  “And what about that business with the spriggans and the Forgotten King?”

  Mother let out a weary breath and shook her head. “He was imprisoned, desperate, and young. If he had known what the spriggan wanted to unleash, he might have thought twice.”

  I narrowed my eyes. This wasn’t like Mother at all. She killed and maimed my enemies, not sided with them. And she certainly didn’t take time to work out their motives. “Did the Queen of the Fairies gift you with mind-reading powers?”

  “No.” The corner of her lips curved into a smile.

  “Then you’ve been speaking to King Magnar.”

  “We went to his hut as soon as your father told me you were betrothed. I was going to peck Magnar’s eyes out until he released the damsel denial, but he told me any injuries would backfire on you.”

  “That was considerate of him.” I pulled my hand away and folded my arms.

  A hard knock reverberated on the door. “That will be your friends. They’ve come here every lunchtime for the past three days to visit.”

  My brows rose. “Th-three days?”

  Mother leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. “I have to check in with Her Majesty, but I’ll return to see you soon.”

  She walked to the door and opened it, revealing Niger, Rufus, Stafford, Muti, and Gobi, each carrying yeoman’s lunches. Mother beamed. “Your friend is awake.”

  “Bluford!” Niger rushed to the bench at my bedside and sat. “H
ow are you feeling?”

  I smiled. “Confused but unhurt.”

  “Hello, Paloma!” Gobi said, his face turning bright red.

  Mother pinched his cheek. “I still can’t believe how much you look like a young Orson.”

  Gobi beamed.

  The others took their places around my bed, each munching their massive, overstuffed rolls and giving me expectant stares.

  “So, it was Asproceros, after all?” said Stafford.

  I pursed my lips. Now that I’d seen the ogre, it was hard to blame the wild dragon. Perhaps Fyrian and I had been blinded by our nasty encounter and thought that a manipulative and bitter dragon could be capable of everything that went wrong in Mount Fornax. “He had that horn in the middle of his face, just like in his wanted poster.”

  “How hard did he punch you?” asked Gobi, his eyes wide.

  “It was so hard, I was out before the pain hit.”

  The others whistled, and Muti shook his head. “I was not so lucky. The wretched coward threw me against a wall.”

  Stafford’s brows furrowed. “I get why he punched Albert. He and Niger were chasing him and would have burned him alive, but why did he attack people from behind when he could have snuck past them?”

  “Some people enjoy hurting others,” said Niger.

  They all gave grim nods.

  The door swung open, and Evolene stepped in, holding her staff to her chest. “I-I heard you were awake.”

  Stafford sucked in a breath. “Evolene!”

  She dipped her head and smiled. “H-hello.”

  Niger nudged my arm, furrowed his brow, and flicked his head at Evolene, mouthing, ‘What happened?’

  I mouthed back, ‘Tell you later.’

  He flashed me a grin, making me smile back.

  I ignored Rufus’ huff of disapproval. Niger would have spoken to his brother over the past three days I’d been unconscious. We weren’t a case of a half-ogre pursuing a witch. My bond with Fyrian gave me access to vast power, and if our test for magical compatibility worked out, we would approach Father with the results, and we could court properly. It would work.

  The Noble House of Griffin was one of the few who wholeheartedly supported Father’s role of Prince Regent. They had fought on our side in the Great Dragon Revolution and had gained Father’s trust and admiration. Rufus no longer needed to worry. We had a plan, and we would keep a respectful distance until we could speak to Dr. Duclair.