Pariah of Dragons

by Cordelia Castel

  “Dragonsbane.”

  “An obvious choice.” He hopped out of his seat and paced the front of the room.

  I clenched my teeth. If he didn’t want that answer, why didn’t he say so?

  “He likes to get the last word,” said Fyrian. “You should see him in the Council of Dragons meetings.”

  “I can imagine.”

  Master Klauw picked up some papers from his desk and walked over to the picture of dragonsbane. “As Cadet Bluford rightly stated. This is one of the deadliest poisons known to dragon kind.”

  “What does it do?” asked one of the riders.

  He pinned a picture of a rotting dragon skeleton on the wall. “It works much like ogrebane would on you.”

  All the half-ogres in the room shuddered. Ogrebane was so dangerous, anyone found transporting it into Steppe faced immediate execution. I’d never come in contact with the substance, but Mother once told me a story of how Aunt Cendrilla had used it to burn through an ogre’s insides and reduce him to a puddle of liquefied flesh.

  Master Klauw continued posting pictures of dying dragons next to the plant illustrations, explaining the effects they had on dragons over time.

  “Sir,” asked Stafford. “How would you know this?”

  Master Klauw glared at us both. “How?”

  Stafford gulped. “I mean, I can understand a few dragons accidentally eating dragonsbane or being poisoned by it. In large enough quantities it’s deadly, but you said the other plants can take months or years to kill a dragon. If they know about the poison, why would they keep taking it?”

  His nostrils flared. “The fairies held us for a thousand years and performed experiments to satisfy their savage curiosity. This was one such test. To see how long it would take a dragon to die from poisons known to kill lesser reptiles.”

  I clapped my hands over my mouth. The experiments had always seemed abstract until now.

  “I had a dream of my legs rotting away once,” said Fyrian. “It must have been that dragon’s memories.”

  My throat spasmed, and I gulped hard. It was no wonder the dragons had strong wards to keep out high fairies. They were probably like the type of children who pulled the wings off butterflies to see what would happen next.

  “Some poisons are more insidious than others,” said Master Klauw. “There is a form of natural gas, deep within the earth that can turn a docile dragon into a killing monster.”

  “What happens to a dragon who kills under the influence of the gas?” I asked.

  “That depends if anyone knows the dragon has been compromised. Dragons who kill humans face a death penalty.”

  Fyrian harrumphed. “As do dragons accused of murders that never took place.”

  I sent her a wave of love and sympathy. That had been a harrowing experience. “Did Master Fosco ever give you a public apology?”

  “Klauw brought it up in the Council of Dragons and made everyone say sorry. They’re asking for a dragon master to work alongside Madam Maritimus to investigate crimes.”

  “Who?”

  “Phoenix, when he graduates.”

  One of the healer cadets, a blonde-haired witch sitting in the front, raised her hand. “Is it easy to test for this gas?”

  “Only when the dragon is in the throes of rage,” replied Master Klauw. “His or her eyes will turn red.”

  “If we’re out catching a wild dragon, what do we do?” asked a tamer cadet.

  “You have three options when you see those red eyes.”

  I sat straighter, quill poised.

  “One.” He raised a finger. “Have a purple dragon move you to another location. Two, have at least six witches combine power and create a fireproof barrier. And three, throw alchemical charcoal into the dragon’s mouth.”

  I bit down on my lip. Why did that seem so familiar?

  “It was in the black elixir Jesper gave you,” said Fyrian. “The one that would absorb all those poisons.”

  “What’s that, sir?” asked Stafford.

  Master Klauw walked back to his desk, reached down to the ground and pulled out a box. “Everybody, take notes. What I am about to say might save the life of your dragon.”

  The sounds of knapsacks unbuckling filled the room. I turned around to find Muti and the other riders scrambling about for writing material. Stafford dipped his quill into the ink pot we shared and tapped the excess pigment from its nib.

  “Are you ready?” asked Master Klauw. “Alchemical charcoal soaks ten thousand times its volume in poisons. A piece as small as a pea is enough to save the life of even a sleeping dragon.”

  I wrote that down as fast as I could, hoping Master Klauw’s box would give us a sample of the substance.

  He picked up the box, stood and walked alongside the first row of desks, placing pieces of charcoal in front of each cadet. “If you venture out somewhere with suspect water, placing a pellet of alchemical charcoal will purify enough to quench the thirst of your dragon. Do not throw it in the Great Lake and expect it to work, you must draw the water into a receptacle and then place the pellet into it.”

  The blonde witch’s hand shot up. “How long does it take to work?”

  “Three seconds.”

  I scribbled that down and raised my head, eager for the next tip.

  “Wait a minute,” asked Muti. “What happens if you do not have any pellets?”

  He dropped half a dozen pellets on my parchment. “Find a healer.”

  “And if there is no healer?”

  “Then you must make your dragon vomit, so he or she can fly to a healer.”

  Wrinkling my nose, I slipped the pellets into the pocket of my breeches. Hiding in a dragon’s mouth while fire rained down was one thing, but making them sick sounded dangerous.

  Master Klauw continued handing out the pellets then he strolled back to the front of the class. With a mischievous grin, he reached under his desk and pulled out a huge scroll. “Did Dr. Duclair teach you about a dragon’s digestive system?”

  “No, sir,” we chorused.

  “Dragons can eat any time of the day, but digestion is dormant during waking hours. Why?”

  Rufus’ hand shot up. “So they have enough energy to fly.”

  “Correct.”

  Master Klauw pinned the top of the scroll to the front wall. From the way it bulged, there was at least one other parchment underneath it. He unrolled the scroll, revealing a diagram of a dragon with a series of tubes going from its mouth to just beneath its tail.

  “I’ve seen this before,” said Fyrian. “But I don’t understand why he needs these diagrams for dragon safety.”

  “He’s morbid but he means well,” I replied.

  “When the dragon sleeps, the valve separating gullet and stomach opens up.” Master Klauw pointed at the opening at the top of the dragon’s stomach. “While the dragon is awake, the gullet is where undigested food remains.”

  I raised my hand.

  “Yes, Cadet Bluford,” he said.

  “How can you make a dragon sick?”

  “By climbing head-first into the dragon’s mouth and thumping hard on the back of the throat.” He pounded on the wall over and over again, his nostrils flaring.

  I suppressed a shudder. “B-but what if you fall in?”

  Master Klauw’s eyes flashed. The rest of his face split into a grin I’d only ever seen on rapier reds. He pulled the first sheet of parchment off the wall, revealing the same diagram but with an upside down cadet in the dragon’s gullet, pushing against the valve to its stomach. The piping on the cadet’s uniform was burgundy, and his hair dark blond. He’d even outlined the dragon in green.

  “What an eel worm,” Fyrian muttered. “As if I would accidentally swallow you.”

  “Ignore him. He’s just jealous people as young as us get to have all the adventures.”

  Master Klauw steepled his fingers over his chest and rocked back on his heels. “Make sure to climb out before your dragon falls asleep because the valve be
tween gullet and stomach will open. And the acid in our stomachs dissolve flesh and bones.”

  Everyone, including me, groaned.

  “Class dismissed and sweet dreams.”

  We all piled out of the classroom, muttering about the probability of being digested by one’s own dragon. A few of the others took the nearest doorway that opened up into a staircase, but Stafford, Rufus, Gobi and I continued down the hallway to find a door leading to a terrace.

  “I can’t believe they let him teach cadets,” Stafford muttered. “He’s the most pessimistic person in the Known World.”

  Gobi clutched his stomach. “I do not think I could crawl into a dragon’s gullet.”

  Rufus shook his head. “My brother told me some of his classes were hair-raising, but I did not believe him until now.”

  “Niger said that?” I asked.

  He turned, giving me a cold stare. “Albens.”

  “Right.” I gulped. Next time, I’d try not to perk up whenever he mentioned one of his brothers.

  “What’s going on over there?” Stafford pointed at a smashed door at the end of the hallway.

  Madam Maritimus emerged from its depths, flanked by two witches. The white-haired witch’s features hardened. “Did any of you hear any unusual activity this morning?”

  “No,” I replied. “I was in the Healer’s Academy, then in Flying Safety class.”

  “And we were in our dorms and the mess hall before classes. What’s happened?” asked Stafford.

  “This door leads to a hallway that leads to a chamber where a group of dragonets were staying,” she said. “They are all missing.”

  My heart reverberated in my chest. Asproceros struck again? “What about the grooms taking care of them?”

  “They were found a few minutes ago with cracked skulls.”

  “That means he has two sets of dragonets.” I bit down on the inside of my cheek. “What type were they?”

  “Green.”

  “Fyri?” I asked.

  A moment later she replied. “I can’t reach any of them, but I can hear the flying cat.”

  “Where is it?”

  “In a sack of some sort.”

  I relayed the information to Madam Maritimus, who frowned. “Does the cat know if it’s still in Mount Fornax?”

  “It says they’re in some sort of cave. There’s a light source, and the weather is cool.”

  “So, they’re somewhere with a powerful weathervane. He probably hasn’t left the wards yet.” I turned to the older witch and repeated Fyrian’s words.

  The witch’s lips thinned. “He is more organized than I’d suspected and probably better equipped.”

  I gulped. What if he had more than invisibility cloaks to help steal dragonets? We had to stop him before he struck again!

  Chapter 17

  The four of us stepped onto the terrace, leaving Madam Maritimus and her team to complete their investigation. A harsh wind wrapped around my neck like a noose, and clouds as dark as steel hung low in the sky.

  I clenched and unclenched my fists. Asporceros was becoming bolder with each passing crime. Perhaps he thought himself invincible because of his physical strength and leave-no-trace invisibility cloak, but soon, he would go too far, and someone would end up murdered.

  Stafford glanced at me through the corner of his eye. “Are you all right?”

  “No,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “Is it your head?”

  “It’s that wretched poacher.” I slammed my fist into my palm. “He’s stolen another group of dragonets. How long before he finds a third? How long before someone gets in his way like poor, dead Paniscus?”

  “They’ll catch him eventually.” Stafford activated a stair stone at the end of a terrace. “You heard what Madam Maritimus said—”

  “No,” I said.

  Stafford’s steps faltered. “What?”

  “What if he was hired by the spriggans to steal the dragonets?”

  Rufus grunted. “It is possible. And they are a more logical target than eggs.”

  “What do you mean?” Stafford bounded up the stairs.

  Rufus swept his arm aside in one of those gentlemanly gestures for me to go ahead up the stairs before him. “If they want to use dragon fire to raise the Forgotten King, dragonets will be faster than waiting decades for an egg to hatch and go through the stages to become a dragon.”

  My nostrils flared. One admission of my true identity, and he was already treating me like a lady. I took the stairs two at a time. “Standing around speculating isn’t helping anyone. Mount Fornax is huge, and we need more people patrolling all the sites Asproceros might raid.”

  “The dragonet dwellings,” said Rufus as he reached the top.

  Stafford furrowed his brows. “But there’s only four of us and five types of dragonet left. If we team up, we can only guard one group, and if we separate, whoever gets to meet Asproceros might be killed.”

  “Two groups,” said Muti from the bottom of the stairs.

  I gave him a sharp nod. “Thanks. You and your riders will make for a strong second team.”

  He beamed. “We will guard the red dragons.”

  We continued along the terrace in the cool weather toward the mess hall. The scent of dragon mint filled the air, helping me clear my head. Two groups still weren’t enough to guard the dragonets. As much as I wanted to stand on a table in front of everyone and announce my intentions, Master Fosco would probably expel me for attempting an unauthorized mission.

  “And Asporceros might hear you if he’s sneaking about,” said Fyrian.

  “Ugh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “He could be anywhere.”

  We stepped through the barrier of the mess hall, where the servers turned the hand crank of a giant spit containing dozens of whiskered catfish. The scent of garlic and paprika filled the air, making saliva pool in my mouth. We picked up our plates and joined the line of warriors waiting for fish.

  “When will we ambush Asproceros?” asked Muti.

  I glanced around for signs of Master Fosco, but no-one sat at the head table.

  “They’re all at an emergency Council of Dragons meeting,” said Fyrian.

  “Are you there?”

  “I can’t miss it,” she said. “That ogre took my friends.”

  A sigh slid from my lips. Only a few weeks ago, Fyrian was a dragonet like the ones taken. She had to be frantic with worry. “We’ll catch him and get them back.”

  “And I’ll help.”

  “Bluford?” asked Muti.

  “He gets like that when deep in conversation with Fyrian,” said Stafford.

  I raised my head. “Sorry, I’m back now. Let’s watch out for Asproceros every night until he’s caught.”

  My classmates and the dragon rider cadets grunted their agreement. Soon, we reached the start of the line and got healthy portions of spit-roasted fish and chargrilled vegetables. Rufus led the way to the cadet tables and sat next to his brothers, Brunus and Virens, the pair who had carried me into King Magnar’s sky commander tournament with the rest of the drogott team. I gave them a nod of greeting and sat next to Stafford.

  “I spoke to Evolene last night,” he said with a smile. “She and Master Jesper are working on something to counteract Asproceros’ invisibility cloak.”

  “Good.” I gave him a shoulder bump and beamed. Whatever issues he was having about Evolene’s new status as King Magnar’s ward and Phoenix’s bondmate seemed had been resolved by speaking to her. I broke off a piece of crispy skin and took a bite.

  Brunus and Virens leaned across the table. “You have team Griffon’s support. Niger will join us to guard the yellow dragonets.”

  “Really?”

  “We owe Asproceros a good hiding for attacking our brother from behind.”

  A weight lifted off my chest. “Thank you!”

  “All right.” Stafford waved a forkful of roasted pepper. “We need two more teams. Who can we ask to vol
unteer?”

  I glanced around. “Maybe some of the grooms? They’ve been the worst hit.”

  Gobi leaned forward in his seat, eyes glimmering with excitement. “Am I invited on this hunt?”

  “It’s going to be dangerous,” I said. “Everyone who encountered Asproceros ended up with fractured skulls, including me.”

  He scowled. “But you leave me out of all of your adventures. I may be young, but that does not make me weak!”

  I shot Rufus a helpless glance. Didn’t he usually keep Gobi out of trouble?

  He rolled his eyes. “I suppose the Prince Regent would not forgive me if I let his kin get hurt.”

  “He’s talking about you,” said Fyrian.

  “Why do Griffon brothers act like women need protection?”

  “Because they’re ogres, and you’re a Princess.”

  I sniffed. “You two might as well come along. If the grooms say yes, we’ll need one more team. Maybe the witches who were betrothed to that rider?”

  Rufus shook his head. “Considering they tried to kill him, I doubt that they would want to avenge his death.”

  “He’s right,” said Fyrian.

  I glanced around the mess hall, looking for people who might want to join our quest to catch Asproceros before he struck again. Most warriors were already patrolling the grounds, so I couldn’t ask any of them to neglect their duty, and the few civilians in the mess hall didn’t seem strong enough to face a full ogre. Even after taking Master Jesper’s elixirs, I wasn’t sure if I could handle Asproceros on my own.

  “That’s why we need to practice what Pristis taught us,” said Fyrian. “Come to my stall. You might develop your hardened skin if we work close together.”

  “Good idea.” I needed all the help I could get.

  The short groom who had walked me back from the Healer’s Academy stepped in through the barrier, his giant longsword trailing on the ground after him. By his side was a quarter-ogre whose pale, blue hair fluffed out from his head like a dandelion. Behind them strode the two groom cadets who had been fighting over an enchanted dagger.

  I placed a hand on Stafford’s shoulder. “This lot might be interested in volunteering.”

  “Good luck.”

  The four males headed for the spit roast, and I followed after them. “Excuse me?”