by Gage Lee
The brass dragon glared at Moglan. “I have heard nothing. Now, go.”
But then Moglan heard the same high, desperate cry. It was very close.
The brass had heard it, too. His eyes had narrowed and his lips drew into a thin, tight line.
“There,” the shaman said. “You heard it, too. Where did that come from?”
“I heard nothing,” the brass dragon lied. “And unless you want more trouble than you can handle, you'll get out of here.”
As the brass dragon spoke, his fists clenched tighter.
And the cry came again.
Moglan's big hand shot out and wrapped around the brass dragon's left wrist. His grip was just strong enough to keep the brass from pulling his hand free.
“Open your hand,” Moglan demanded.
Instead, the brass dragon lashed out with his right fist. The strike was clumsy, but powerful. As close as he was, there was no way for Moglan to dodge the attack.
And the bigger dragon didn't even try.
Instead, he hoisted the brass off the ground and thrust his longer arm away. The powerful blow whiffed through the air between the two fighters, and the brass twisted in Moglan's grasp.
“Let me go,” the brass shouted. “You'll break my arm.”
The thin cry came again, and Moglan knew it originated in the brass dragon's fist. He used the fingers of his left hand to pry the clenched hand open.
A blue spirit soared away from the dragon's open hand and flew up into the forest canopy with a melodic whistle.
“You let it go!” The brass shouted and tried to punch Moglan again.
The shaman held his foe out at arm's reach. The brass could swing all day and accomplish nothing other than twisting his own wrist and wasting his strength.
“You could have harmed the spirit,” Moglan said. “Now it is free.”
“I would have won the challenge!” The brass howled in disappointment.
“Perhaps. But shamans are not slave drivers.” Moglan shook his head. “We were told to work with the spirits. Not compel them into our services.”
The brass snorted, despite his helpless position hanging from Moglan's first. “That's a weak way to look at the world. Shamans aren't servants. We are masters. Spirits bend to our superior will, not the other way around. Only a fool treats them as anything other than tools.”
An urge to shake the brass dragon until his teeth rattled welled up inside Moglan. He'd heard dragons say much the same while he was growing up, and not just about spirits. His own father had said, more than once, that the burden Moglan's size placed on his family—from needing more food to accidentally breaking things around the house—meant he had to do the work of livestock. Moglan had fled not just an isolated backwater village, but life as a tool.
“You didn't hear a word Professor Vash'tan said,” Moglan sighed with a sad shake of his head. “Go on. Get out of here. But you should know that if I hear you capturing another spirit, I'll stop you again.”
Moglan lowered the brass dragon to the ground and released him. The smaller student glared up at the other shaman. “You'll pay for this. You're in the Broken Blades lodge. With a human. You'll get what's coming to you.”
Before the hulking shaman could respond, the brass dragon took off like a shot through the forest. Moglan considered the fool's parting words and wondered if they were true. The shaman liked Taun, but the human was trouble waiting to happen. The golds were a threat, to be sure, but the real danger lay in other students taking up their cause. If all the dragons who felt humans were better off as servants decided to make life hard for Taun, well...life would be just as hard on the rest of the Broken Blades.
The shaman let out a deep sigh and looked around for another quiet spot to resume his meditation. He'd settled on a patch of soft earth surrounded by lush ferns that smelled faintly of honey to resume his meditation. He worried that the time he'd spent freeing the spirit from the brass would cost him the challenge when a whisper came from behind him.
“The mushrooms are this way,” a thin, high-pitched voice said. Dozens more joined it a moment later, “This way, this way, this way!”
When Moglan turned, he had to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things. A swarm of blue spirits hovered in the air, their tiny bodies shrouded in blinking light. One of them zipped forward until she was so close to Moglan his eyes nearly crossed. She looked like a tiny human, her long white hair swirling around her body in place of clothes, but she had a long, sinuous tail where legs should be. Her wings flapped so quickly they were a buzzing blur, but there was no mistaking the smile on her face. “Come with us, if you want to win!”
SUTARI STAGGERED OFF the sparring yard. Her lungs ached with every breath, but she didn't care. The crudlung hadn't beaten her today. In fact, the endurance challenge seemed to have helped her breathe. She tested her capacity with a few deep breaths. Yes. Her lungs could hold more air than they had this morning. It still hurt to inhale, and her ribs creaked and crunched with every breath, but the exercise had helped.
“A few more days of working myself to death, and I'll be good as new,” Sutari mumbled to herself. “If I don't keel over.”
Which felt like a real possibility. The young silver dragon wanted nothing more than to sit down on the grass that surrounded the sparring yard and rest her head on her knees. Her body, battered and fatigued from hours of back-and-forth exchanges with her opponent, demanded she rest and recover her strength.
But the professor had not announced the results yet, and Sutari had no intention of showing her opponents just how exhausted she was. She'd hold her head up high and pretend her lungs weren't aching until she'd safely returned to her lodge. Even then, she'd keep her composure until she was alone in the damp cell of her room. Because none of the other Broken Blades needed to see her like this. Not Taun, who had so much faith in her.
And especially not Lira.
Sutari paced as she thought of the former slave and criminal. It was wrong for the school to allow someone like that into class. It was even more wrong that they'd saddled Sutari, who came from a good and well-established family, with such a disgrace in her lodge. No matter how well the silver did in the competitions, she'd never outrun the shame of allying with a common criminal. That stain would haunt her for the rest of her life. It was more than she could bear. Sutari had to do something.
What that something was, though, escaped her.
“Form up,” the professor barked. “It's time for your results.”
The students lined up in neat ranks before the professor. Sutari was slower than the others and ended up in the back row, but that was all right. She didn't have to worry about anyone noticing her condition if they were all in front of her. She let her shoulders slump, just a little, and didn't hide her labored breathing. That minor concession made her feel ashamed, but the relief was undeniable. She couldn't wait to get back to the lodge where she could drop the facade and gasp for air.
“As you know,” the professor continued, “this was not a simple challenge. I wanted to see your endurance, but also your skill, your strategy, and your ability to continue fighting long after your body wanted you to quit. This challenge was a test of your mind as much as your body. Many of you surprised me. For both good and ill.”
The professor strolled across the front rank, eyes flicking left and right to take in the students arrayed before her. The weight of her attention made several of the exhausted warriors flinch like they’d received an unexpected slap. The professor scowled each time this happened.
Sutari made a silent vow to not so much as grimace when the professor came to her. The silver had done well, or so she thought, and had no intention of losing points because she couldn't handle a little probing from her instructor.
“If I say your name, leave the field,” the professor said. “You have failed. You did not conserve your energy, but threw everything into winning. That may work in a duel, but it will get you killed on the battlefield.”
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br /> The instructor recited a list of names. More than half the dragons left the field as she called them out. Though they'd lost, Sutari felt a stab of envy at how well-rested these dragons looked. Most of them had only fought for a few minutes and spent the rest of the afternoon lolling around on the grass, watching as the others worked themselves ragged.
But pride replaced that envy a moment later. Sutari, sick and broken, had outlasted most of her hale and hearty classmates. Even weakened by the crudlung, she was a steadfast warrior who didn't know how to quit. That was worth more than a brief rest.
“The rest of you made it to the end of the day,” the professor applauded the remaining students, “and for that, I salute you. You have learned something critical in this class: your will is greater than your physical limitations. Your mind has mastered your body.”
Sutari's heart nearly burst with pride. She felt as if the professor were speaking only to her. Because no one else had suffered like she had, and none of the others had to fight as hard or against such long odds as the silver.
“If I call your name in this next group, you have fallen short of victory,” the professor's voice was firm, but not harsh. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. On any other day, you might have won. For today, though, you have been vanquished. Let falling short fill you, not with shame, but with determination. Let today's failure stoke the fires of effort in our next challenge.”
Sutari stiffened her spine as the professor listed off more names. The copper dragon Sutari had faced was one of the first off the field in this group. That didn't surprise the silver. She'd toyed with him the whole day, using little of her own energy to defend against his attacks. He'd lasted as long as Sutari only because she'd needed an opponent. He'd fallen to his knees the instant the challenge ended and still walked like he had a heavy load on his shoulders.
The professor was getting closer to Sutari as more and more names fell from her lips. When she stopped in front of the silver, only three dragons remained on the field.
“Auris, Minkai, and Sutari,” the professor said, her words ringing in the silver's ears, “you are the top three today. Each of you showed skill and determination. You hoarded your energy while forcing your opponent to expend theirs. You excelled when others faltered. And, for that, I will reward you.”
The professor's eyes drilled into Sutari. The pressure of her attention pierced the young silver to the core. But the warrior kept her vow. She held her head high and straight, her eyes sharp. Sutari didn't so much as blink until the professor had turned away.
Sutari glanced to Auris, who'd turned from his position to stare at her. His gold scales shone in the last rays of the fading sun, and his scorn for the silver was clear. She didn't look away, refusing to give in to his challenge, but neither did she return his anger. Auris was a prince, a powerful member of the most powerful clan among dragons. There was no point in being mad at him. Showing him her anger would only hurt Sutari. Better to avoid the storm than try to ride out its wrath.
“In third place, for five points, Minkai Geth'nan,” the professor said, turning to look at the young dragon. His red scales stood out in stark contrast to the dark skin so common to the people of Firecrown Hill. “You were passable on the field, but your skills are crude and unrefined. Never fear, Minkai, that's what I'm here to change.”
The red dragon, thinner and more lithe than either Auris or Sutari, bowed low to the professor, then dashed off the field to the cheering members of her lodge.
Sutari's heart raced. She was in the final two. The professor knew the silver was sick. That had to work in her favor.
“Sutari,” the professor said, turning back to the silver, her eyes soft. “Your condition weakens your body. It saps your strength and steals your breath. Every hour on the sparring field is agony for you. More than once, I saw you falter. Many times, I was sure you'd reached your limit. But the warrior's fire burns bright within you, and its heat lifted you up. When others would have fallen, you stood firm. That grit and resilience is why you are among the last students still on the field.”
“Auris,” the professor continued, “your training before coming to the Academy was excellent, of course. You have had the best tutors and more opportunity than most to spend time with them. It is no surprise that someone in your excellent physical condition and blessed with skill sharpened by years of work under the greatest masters of the martial arts would do well today. You paced yourself to go the distance, and for that I commend you.”
The silver warrior's heart raced. She'd won. There was no other explanation for the professor's slight praise for Auris. After all her struggle, Sutari had taken first place.
The professor rested a hand on Sutari's shoulder when she'd finished and leaned close so no one else could hear her whispered words.
“You have surpassed my expectations, Sutari,” she murmured, a hint of sadness in her voice. “Congratulations on second place and ten Glory.”
Those words hit Sutari like hammer blows. They made little sense. She'd been so sure she'd won. And why did the professor sound so glum when she'd spoken to Sutari?
The professor walked across the field, her back to her students. She didn’t even look at the prince when she announced the results. “Twenty Glory for your win, Auris. Congratulations.”
Sutari couldn't believe what had just happened. She didn't trust herself to walk without her knees buckling, so she held her position as the other students headed back to their lodges for dinner. Sutari felt cheated, and she didn't understand why the professor had done this to her.
“Better luck next time,” Auris said with a sneer. “But probably not. You're competing against the best, girl. You should give up now and save yourself some trouble.”
The silver watched the gold strut toward his cronies on the edge of the field, her eyes narrowed into angry slits. Auris's confidence raised her hackles and sent tingles of suspicions racing through her thoughts. The gold had won today, but not because he was the best. Something else was at play, and Sutari would find out what that was.
No matter the cost.
Chapter 14
FEVER CHILLS RACED through Taun's body. His stomach felt simultaneously too full and impossibly empty. His body ached from the top of his head to the soles of his feet, but the energy that zinged through his veins had him pacing back and forth before he knew he'd stood up. The world was brighter and more vibrant than ever before. His skin tingled in the heat from the forge. Even the drab metal floor seemed too colorful for his eyes to bear. His tongue picked out the taste of molten iron and smoke from the air. He couldn't categorize the riot of smells that raced into his nostrils with every inhalation.
“Are you okay?” Karsi asked nervously. She'd taken her hand off the forge, letting the spirits within die down, but heat still radiated from the white cube.
Taun wasn't sure if the princess was nervous to approach him or didn't want to get too close to the scalding forge. Whichever was the case, she watched him from a safe distance, her hands loose at her sides.
Professor Geth strode toward Taun's workstation, her eyes wide with surprise. “Well, that was quite a show,” she said. “How do you feel?”
Be careful. You have just done the impossible and word will spread. We need to take things slow, careful. Something has changed in the scale. I do not know what, but we cannot risk another challenge until we have figured it out.
We. Taun realized something had changed between him and the dragon. The balance had shifted now that he'd proved himself more capable than Axaranth had expected. Despite what he'd accomplished, though, Taun felt confused and his thoughts were as scrambled as a nest of mice fleeing a serpent. He drew in a deep breath and focused on one thing at a time. “My core is...I think I'm all right,” he said to Professor Geth.
The professor focused all her attention on Taun. Her eyes burrowed through his center to appraise the knight's very essence. She looked away for a moment, her long snout closed tight, then shifted her ey
es to meet Taun's gaze. There was something unusual burning in her irises.
Confusion.
Fear.
For the first time in his life, Taun felt the emotions roiling within someone else's core. He looked away, but couldn't ignore the tension that filled the air between him and the professor. The room was silent. All the other students had stopped working to stare at the young knight with a mixture of worry and annoyance on their faces. Taun did his best to ignore their stares, but it was harder to shrug off the scorn he felt emanating from the other cores in the room. The dragons didn't want him here. Advancing his core had increased Taun's awareness in ways he couldn't yet control. His cheeks burned with anger and embarrassment, but he did not look away from his professor.
“Well,” Professor Geth said quietly, “I suppose congratulations are in order. You have advanced to a violet core. Not an impressive feat for a dragon, but I believe you are the first human I've ever met with a core at all. In honor of your achievement, I award you twenty Glory. I also suggest you return to your lodge to rest and recover from the ordeal you've put yourself through today.”
Taun couldn't shake the feeling that the professor wasn't rewarding him for what he'd done. She wanted him out of her classroom, the sooner the better. The young knight didn't want to leave. After all, he'd come to the Academy to learn. But the look on his professor's face warned him there was little point in looking this gift horse in the mouth. She needed time to adjust to what had just happened to one of her students. Dragons believed humans were beneath them and incapable of handling pneuma.
Taun had just proven that was a lie.
“Thank you,” he said, bowing. “I do feel strange. I'll be back in class tomorrow, though. I have a lot to learn.”
Professor Geth scratched her chin thoughtfully. “I suppose we all do,” she murmured.
“Be careful,” Karsi said to Taun as he left the classroom. “You look a little wobbly.”