Pariah of Dragons

by Cordelia Castel

  The door slammed against the wall, and Roseate stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips. “You have too many visitors.”

  “Nonsense,” said Niger. “When my brother was attacked, Bluford, my mother, five brothers, Master Fosco, and Master Hyacinthus all stayed in his room.”

  “That’s different.” She stuck her nose in the air.

  If the space behind my eyes didn’t ache, I would have rolled them. Roseate always seemed to put herself in the middle of happy gatherings. It was as though she craved the negative attention.

  “It is not. Begone,” said Niger.

  Her bottom lip trembled, but she squared her shoulders and widened her stance. “Dr. Duclair said Cadet Bluford was discharged and needed some privacy to get changed.”

  “Then leave,” said Muti. “Bluford does not want a pink witch watching him undress.”

  I shared a glance with Niger, who stood. “We should all go.”

  Stafford stood, as did Rufus. Gobi and Muti remained seated.

  Rufus turned to Gobi. “We can wait for Bluford in the mess hall.”

  Gobi folded his arms. “We should wait for Bluford here. What if Asproceros returns to finish the job he started?”

  I sighed. “He’s not coming to the Healer’s Academy. There’s nothing for him to steal.”

  Muti grunted and also folded his arms. “Gobi is right. You were the only warrior to threaten Asproceros enough to make him run. He will want revenge. Griffons, you two should wait with us. When he bursts through the door with his invisibility cloak, we can all battle.”

  Stafford tiptoed out of the room with Evolene, sending me an apologetic smile.

  “If Gobi and Muti knew you were female, they’d give you privacy,” said Fyrian.

  “Then they’d no longer consider me a warrior.” Dragons only seemed to care about the age of their comrades and their stage of development. Ogres tended to view females who weren’t witches as breeding stock.

  Roseate caught my eye and smirked. A flash of irritation surged across my skin. I sat up and smirked back. “Actually, I need you all to leave. Roseate and I have unfinished business.”

  Gobi’s eyes widened, cheeks turning pink. He glanced from Roseate to me and then stood. Muti grinned and gave me a wink and thumbs up. Niger snickered and held the door open for the others.

  Roseate’s nostrils flared, and she pressed her lips together, shaking with rage. As soon as the door clicked shut, she snarled, “You just tried to destroy my reputation.”

  “And you disturbed my friends’ visit to act important. You’re not even a healer or a healer’s apprentice.”

  She folded her arms. “I know a few of the basics.”

  “Have I really been discharged?”

  “Dr. Duclair doesn’t even know you’re awake yet.”

  “Right.” I folded my arms. “Since you’ve spoiled my reunion, you can make yourself useful.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I need you to send a message to Captain Pristis. Ask him if he can visit me about something I saw in class. And ask Master Jesper to come and visit me as soon as possible.”

  Roseate left and returned an hour later with a bowl of congealed porridge. She placed it on the side table. “Dr. Duclair says you should eat this.”

  I pushed myself up, resting my back on the magically cushioned headboard. “Did you send my messages?”

  “Sort of.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “There’s something wrong with the laboratory door, but I told Evolene to tell the troll you might want to see it.”

  “What about Captain Pristis?”

  She pulled out a grubby spoon from her pocket, dunked it into the porridge, and shoved it onto my lap. “I’m not leaving the safety of the Healer’s Academy to play messenger dragonet. Eat this!”

  “I can flame her and her poisoned porridge if you want,” said Fyrian.

  “She’s not worth it,” I replied.

  Master Jesper stepped in through the doors. “You wanted to see me, Cadet Bluford?”

  I held up my bowl of porridge. “Could you analyze this and tell me what’s in it?”

  Roseate snatched the bowl and hurried out of the room. Master Jesper stared after her. “Shall I pursue Madam Roseate?”

  “No need,” I said. “Thanks for coming.”

  “I’m terribly sorry for your encounter with that ogre. Your condition is partially my fault.”

  My brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve been exposed to the spriggan poison on two occasions. I believe that it interacted with your fairy physiology and may have weakened you.”

  Fyrian’s gasp reverberated in my head. I leaned forward, clasping my hands. “Are you sure?”

  The troll lowered itself onto the bedside bench. “Forgive my phrasing, but there may not be much difference, species-wise, between you and a spriggan.”

  Fyrian sent a mental shudder through our bond. “Jesper wouldn’t say that if it had been at the border.”

  “A-are you sure?” I reached for the glass of water on the bedside table. Hopefully, Roseate hadn’t tampered with it.

  “According to my conversations with Master Roopal, the spriggans are beings of the Forgotten King’s creation. Stolen children he infused with his power to perform tasks on his behalf. Theoretically, this poison works on the power given to the spriggans to change them into the beings they became.”

  “Right.” I let out a long breath. “And since the Forgotten King is my great-grandfather, I hold some of his magic.”

  “Precisely. I had not anticipated its effects on you until your unfortunate encounter with Asproceros.”

  “But that punch would have knocked out anyone.”

  Master Jesper reached into its cloak and pulled out a small rack of vials. “I have checked with Dr. Duclair to ensure these elixirs don’t interfere with her treatment of your injuries.”

  My eyes widened. “What are those?”

  The troll pointed at each vial. “The white is a bone-strengthening elixir containing an enchantment to maintain the structural integrity of your skeleton. The next time you face an impactful trauma, your bones will fracture but not break.”

  “But it will still hurt?”

  “Only until the elixir fixes the fracture.”

  My heart skipped several beats. “How long will its effects last?”

  “A month.”

  I stretched out my hand. “Can I have it now, please?”

  Master Jesper smiled and placed the vial in my palm. Magic pulsed from within the glass, making me grin. With an elixir like that, I would never need to fear Asproceros' fists.

  After uncorking it, I downed its chalky contents and grimaced. “Thanks. What do the others do?”

  Master Jesper listed their functions. The black, sludgy elixir contained enough alchemical charcoal to absorb any amount of poison. Next to it was a blood-red elixir that tasted like cherries. It would accelerate the effects of any conditioning exercises. Master Jesper explained that with enough work, I might become as strong as a male quarter ogre. Finally, there was a clear elixir that would help me connect better with Fyrian so I could access more of her dragon magic.

  “Does that mean you’re going to develop scales and breathe fire?” she asked.

  “What does it do?”

  “It’s based on a formula alchemists developed to control homunculi.”

  My stomach dropped. I wanted nothing to do with those disgusting beings. “Oh. That one won’t be—”

  “Don’t dismiss it, Cadet Bluford.” Master Jesper waggled its finger. “The Mens Ligo elixir will only strengthen your bond with Fyrian. If you find its effects disagreeable, I will prepare an antidote.”

  “It’s worth a try,” said Fyrian.

  “Thanks.” I uncorked the elixir and took a sip. It tasted like spring water, so I gulped the rest of it down. “Is there such a thing as a permanent anti-nausea elixir?”

  The
troll inclined its head. “It will need a sample of your hair.”

  “Thanks.” I plucked a few strands and handed them to the troll. “One more thing. Do you know about the leave-no-trace cloak?”

  Master Jesper slipped the hair into its cloak pocket and stilled its features. “Its creator has confided in me, yes.”

  “I need something to counteract its magic. Asproceros is using one of those. If we can make him visible to the wards, we’ll have a better chance of catching him before he escapes with the dragonets.”

  The troll stood. “Very well. The poison needs to rest for a day before the next stage. Madam Evolene and I will work on the items you require.”

  “Thanks for everything.”

  Master Jesper paused at the door and smiled. “Consider your upcoming confrontation with Asproceros as practice.”

  “For what?”

  “For defeating the spriggans.”

  “Jesper’s right, you know,” said Fyrian. “If you can’t defeat a stupid poacher, you’ll never defeat the spriggans and free yourself from the damsel denial. Then you’ll never be with Niger.”

  Chapter 16

  Later that day, Dr. Duclair flew into the room with her patchwork cloak flying over her shoulders like a magic carpet. Her yellow hair lay flat against her head instead of its usual fluffy marigold shape. I suppose it meant she was too busy dealing with the aftermath of all the violence to style her hair.

  “Or she’s busy with Thornicroft’s so-called heart condition,” said Fyrian.

  I sat up and straightened my bedclothes, ignoring her remark. General Thornicroft’s quarter-giant physiology might be more complicated than that of the average ogre-hybrid.

  “Yet they managed to heal you,” she said.

  “What’s wrong with you this morning?”

  Fyrian sighed. “That wild dragon is getting on my nerves.”

  “Good morning!” said the doctor. “Roseate tells me you awoke a few hours ago and have refused a meal.”

  “I only asked what was in it.”

  She hummed. “I’ll have a word with that young witch about her bedside manner. How are you feeling, dear?”

  “Better, but there’s a problem that’s bothering Fyrian and me.”

  Her brows drew together. “Do tell.”

  “We spoke to the wild dragon, and now he won’t leave Fyrian alone.”

  She pursed her lips. “The runes on his cage should prevent communication with anyone not holding the bars.”

  “I don’t know how, but he spoke to both of us, and neither of us touched his cage. Is there any way to stop him?”

  “Master Fosco deals with matters such as these. I’ll have a word with him this evening.”

  “Don’t let her,” cried Fyrian. “He’s looking for an excuse to expel you.”

  “Actually, we wanted to know if there was a potion or a rune.”

  “Not to block dragon-to-dragon communication,” she replied. “The only thing I can advise is to strengthen your bond. The two of you working together should keep him out.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath through my nostrils. “How do we do that?”

  She tapped her bottom lip with her fingertips. “It’s a pity General Thornicroft is out of action. He’s the expert in these matters. Captain Pristis is here visiting a colleague. I can ask him to drop in and give you some advice on his way out.”

  “Thank you!”

  “Don’t forget to ask about that magical compatibility thing with Niger,” said Fyrian.

  I nodded. “Ummm… Dr. Duclair?”

  She beamed. “Yes?”

  “How can I tell if I’m compatible with someone for marriage?”

  She placed her hand on her chest. “Oh! Is it Cadet Perrault?”

  “No.”

  Her face fell. “Who, then?”

  Fyrian tsked. “Why does everyone want you to be with Stafford?”

  “Quarter-ogre,” I muttered into our bond. “He’s a half-ogre.”

  She pursed her lips. “Perhaps it’s a good thing you didn’t say. I would be legally obliged to inform your father of the risk you’re posing to your life.”

  “I-it’s a hypothetical question.” The lies spilled from my lips. “He doesn’t even know I like him.”

  “Keep it that way. Nothing good will come of such a union.”

  “Ask about her and General Thornicroft,” said Fyrian.

  “Shhh!”

  “What if there was a quarter-ogre I liked? Could we take the test?”

  Her features evened out. “Of course. Ask for Libra Familia. It’s available in any household spell book. Witches perform it to make sure their husbands have the right balance of ogre and human. If you can bring the boy here, I’ll do it for you.”

  “Right…” I swallowed hard. Father couldn’t know about Niger and me until we’d gotten a favorable test result. “Thanks. Will it consider my fairy side?”

  She tilted her head and frowned. “You will have to speak to Her Majesty’s personal physician to see what kind of compatibility tests she performed with the Prince Regent.”

  “You should have taken up your mother’s suggestion to stay in the palace,” said Fyrian. “Then you could have asked Dr. Streamer.”

  “Maybe when this business with Asproceros is over, you and I can fly out there.”

  I nodded. “Thanks.”

  “Right, then.” She clapped her hands together. “Your injuries have healed, but I’d like to keep you another night to ensure you get a good night’s sleep.”

  “Can I leave tomorrow morning?”

  The doctor flew to the door. “I’ll have your discharge parchments sent to you after breakfast. See you in class tomorrow afternoon.”

  Moments after Dr. Duclair left, someone else knocked on the door. I sat up and straightened my hospital tunic. “Come in.”

  The door opened, and Captain Pristis stepped inside. “Dr. Duclair said you wanted to see me?”

  “Yes, sir. I wanted to ask how you were able to stop a sword fight with your bare hands. Was that a mage technique?”

  “It is…” he lowered himself onto the bench. “But only available to those partnered with silver dragons.”

  My heart sank. I’d hoped it was something any mage would be able to do. “W-why silver, sir?”

  “You’re aware of how each color dragon corresponds with an element?”

  I nodded. We had done an exercise in History of Dragons. As a green, Fyrian was aligned with the wood element. Silver dragons included white, gray, and silver. They were aligned with the metal element and could produce cold flames. I twisted the end of my sheet. “But I still don’t understand how you could stop swords without getting hurt.”

  “The deeper your connection with a dragon, the more aligned to your element you become,” said the captain. “If I concentrate, my body can become as hard as metal.”

  “What does that mean for someone with a green dragon?”

  He smiled. “That’s something you’ll have to discover on your own.”

  My shoulders drooped. So much for getting answers. “How did you deepen your connection with your dragon, sir?”

  “Meditation. Have you tried it?”

  “Is it anything like a dragon quest, sir?”

  “Not as involved. Close your eyes.”

  I sucked in a deep breath, straightened and let my eyes flutter closed. “Ready.”

  He chuckled. “It’s supposed to be a silent process. Next, if you concentrate, you should be able to find a space in the darkness of your mind that feels more silvery.

  “He’s talking about our bond,” said Fyrian. “Tell him we already know this bit.”

  “Let’s listen to all his instruction.”

  She sent me a mental shrug.

  “Focus on expanding the silver in your mind,” he continued. “Make it bright, so it shines like the moon.”

  I exhaled and turned to where we kept our bond. Fyrian was right. General Thornicroft had used the moo
n to describe our bond and then said my mind was like hollow cheese. Had I placed distance between Fyrian and me by plugging up the holes? The space ahead was dark, with a pinprick of silvery light shining in the distance. I pulled the light closer with my mind, making it bigger, and dark spots appeared on its surface.

  “Like the moon,” said Fyrian.

  The vessels under my skin thrummed with power. Sweat trickled down my brow, and I breathed harder. This meditation seemed to be working.

  “Will it turn your skin into bark, do you think?” she asked.

  “I hope not.”

  “Maybe you’ll get green scales.”

  I swallowed hard. After the clearscale incident that had brought me to this very hospital bed, I wasn’t interested in tampering with the texture or transparency of my skin.

  “Good,” said Captain Pristis. “Practice this every evening before you go to sleep. It took me a few years before I could sense Griseo’s feelings. Now, it almost feels like we can read each other’s minds!”

  I opened my eyes. “Fyrian and I already have conversations.”

  He chuckled. “Of course. You’re the boy with the fairy blood. Try the meditations anyway. You might access something of Fyrian’s power that will help you in combat.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  He stood and headed for the door. When he stepped into the hallway, he said, “Fyrian, if you’re listening, feel free to contact Griseo for advice!”

  The next morning, after a breakfast that wasn’t delivered by Roseate, four male healers escorted me to Flying Safety class. Instead of pictures of reckless riders putting their dragons in peril, Master Klauw plastered full-color illustrations of plants on the wall. Everyone had already settled into their places, so I slipped into my usual seat next to Stafford and pulled out my writing materials.

  “Poisonous plants and substances.” Master Klauw turned his viridian, green gaze on me. “How many of them do you know that affect dragons?”

  I raised my hand.

  “Cadet Bluford?”