by Jada Fisher
Eist nearly choked on her chicken at that, but Dille was just looking at her like she had said something boring and matter-of-fact. The short girl didn’t like to think about her chest, and the way that had grown steadily since she had arrived. Becoming a woman just seemed to be largely inconvenient, and she’d rather forget about it if she could.
“Isn’t it a little early to be killing your friends?”
Eist looked up at the low rumble of words, grateful for the reprieve. But while she had been expecting a teacher, or perhaps an older dragon rider stopping in for a rest, she didn’t expect to see Athar standing there.
And she especially didn’t expect Athar to look like that.
If everyone else had grown, then Athar had flourished. Eist had thought he was large before, but now he was bordering on ridiculous.
He was twice as broad as her, his chest seeming to span an impossible distance. His biceps had grown from as big as her head to seemingly as big as her waist, straining against the woven fabric of his tunic. And his face, oh goodness, his face.
Eist felt her eyes grow wide, but she couldn’t school her face into a normal reaction. His dark, dark hair was long enough that it was pulled into a ponytail at his crown. The lack of hair in his face allowed her to see his high cheekbones and broad, square jaw. He looked very much like a hero of legend, or one of the fantastical princes of myth, all strong features and masculinity.
It made sense, if she stopped to think about it. The boy was either eighteen or nineteen winters, if she recalled correctly. He was right at the age where his body was going into its final bit of growth. But still, it didn’t seem to be fair that he was hogging all of the muscle and height while she was growing soft and fighting for every inch that she could get.
He was smiling at her, teeth so white while his full lips were parted in a sweet sort of grin. It was such a nice expression, so open and trusting, that it made her stomach flip. Was she breathing? She didn’t feel like she was breathing.
“When did you get so fetching?” she felt herself gasp before she could stop herself.
And then the giant of a man turned red from the collar of his straining tunic all the way up to the roots of his hair. “I, uh, I—”
“Oh, good job, Eist,” Ain said with yet another smirk. “He just got here, and you’ve already broken him.”
“I-I didn’t mean to,” Eist said, collecting herself. She was not the type of girl to get flustered by someone’s looks. She had resisted Ain’s sort of ethereal prettiness with his fine features and white hair, and Yacrist’s classic charms with his green eyes and curls. She could ignore giant Athar and his earnestness.
In a minute or so, when the shock wore off.
“What, do you eat a whole goat every day?” Yacrist asked, laughing as Athar sat down across from him. But that just made the tall man blush even harder, and Eist felt a bit guilty. She didn’t like making him feel embarrassed. Her mouth had just gotten away from her.
“Ignore him,” Dille said with a sigh. “He’s just jealous that he’s going to have competition in his courting pool now.”
Yacrist snorted at that. “I don’t need a courting pool. I’ve got everything I need right here.”
“Ugh, I forgot how annoying it was to have everyone tripping over you,” Ain said, his piercing gaze settling on Eist. “How do you tolerate it?”
“No one is tripping over me,” Eist objected on principle. “I’m sure we’re all just glad to be back.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what it is. I would say that I missed you, but your friend is just as good at mouthing off as you are.”
“Oh, she’s better,” Eist answered, baring her teeth in a playfully spiteful grin. “She just usually doesn’t waste her time on people who aren’t worth it.”
Ain leaned in conspiratorially, for all the world looking like a wolf who was about to corner a lamb. “My dear, are you saying that I’m not worth it?”
Eist ignored how she could see Yacrist stiffen in her peripheral vision and how Athar’s gaze flicked between the two of them. “Good to see that you still have basic speech comprehension. That skill will get you far.”
“Lucky me.”
He sat up, looking quite pleased with himself, and returned to his food. Soon the conversation settled, and they were all catching up with various stories of how they had occupied themselves over their break. Laughs were shared, and more barbs, until bellies were full, and smiles were wide. Once they had their fill, they all filtered outside together to make sure their dragons also ate.
There was an interesting change with the third year. While smaller dragons still needed to be fed by hand, there were feeding troughs and pits in the caves maintained by many of the academy workers. All of the larger dragons were welcome to eat whenever they were hungry and would often see to themselves without their rider.
Still, the transition could be a rocky one, so of course Ain, Athar, and Dille wanted to check on their little ones—even if those little ones weren’t quite so little anymore. Eist couldn’t blame them and contentedly watched as the three called to their charges, who happily coasted out from the caves.
Eist watched them, Fior winding around her legs excitedly. One day, that would be him. She knew it. But for the moment, she was very happy that he was still small enough for her to spoil and cuddle.
She didn’t like to think about it, because thinking would be admitting it, but she felt something in the air. A heady sort of change coming, like a wall of lightning, or a shaking of the ground that made her hair stand on edge. Occasionally, little things caught the corner of her eye, flashes of color like a warning, but whenever she turned her head, they vanished just as quickly.
She determined to enjoy things while she could and hope that she was wrong about the feeling in her gut that told her there wasn’t a whole lot of time for happiness left.
3
Make Up for Lost Time
“As I’m sure you all know, right now your dragons are going through a special time in their growth. Not too unlike the changes some of you are experiencing, except they’re developing the ability to breathe fire. If any of you find yourselves burping up embers, please see a healer immediately.”
There was a murmur of laughter as Ale’a addressed the day one group. Although the number of their class had slipped down again, there were still too many of them to effectively train in one group. After letting everyone settle in, the dragon rider hopefuls were sorted into two groups that switched off between physical training, inside learning, and dragon training.
Eist was beginning to think that perhaps the schoolmaster had a soft spot for her, because this time, she was in the same group as all of her friends, including Ain and Athar. Usually she only had Yacrist and Dille, but she was looking forward to having a whole group. It would be refreshing.
And probably give Yacrist something to distract himself.
Eist winced at that, feeling a bit guilty. But sometimes, the looks that Yacrist gave her were too much, too layered in concern and happiness that she was alive. Whenever he stared at her like that, it made her stomach flip and her heart pound, which certainly couldn’t be healthy.
“I’ve heard through the little birds and nettles that some of you have had to deal with rudimentary fire-breathing over the break. And for that, I am sorry. I lost my entire bed to one of my girl’s first belches.” Another small wave of laughter.
“So, how we’re going to run this is we’re going to march out of the academy to the barren fields where we have several strawmen set up. Your job is to get your dragon to set it on fire. Most of you will fail this, and that’s fine. The important part is you work with your dragon and learn what works for them. This isn’t about building fires, it’s about communication and strengthening the bond that will keep you alive. Understood?”
There was a murmur of agreement from everyone and a rumble from the dragons around them.
“Alright, everyone march out! Stop when you see yo
ur instructor.”
The crowd started to move and Eist looked to her friends excitedly. She only managed to get a few steps, however, before she felt a hand on her shoulder.
Turning, she saw Ale’a smiling at her, but the grin didn’t reach her eyes. In fact, she looked like she didn’t want to say whatever was about to come out of her mouth. “Sorry, friend, but not you.”
“Not me?” Eist echoed like she didn’t understand. And she didn’t. Not her what? Surely, they weren’t going to—
“Because of…” She seemed to struggle to find the words for a moment. “…the attack you endured last year, Fior was never trained properly on gliding and flight basics. I know we caught up on most of your training, but he needs to get caught up on that before he can move onto fire-breathing.”
It was like someone had dumped cold water over Eist’s head. She knew what the woman was saying made sense, but it stung right down to the core of her. “But… I—”
Ale’a pressed on, ever practical and firm. “Besides, your little one’s teeth just came in, right? It’ll be a long while before he develops the spit pouches to cause a flame.”
“I… I thought I saw a little swell in his cheek last time he ate.”
“That’s good,” Ale’a said soothingly, squeezing Eist’s shoulder. The girl could feel her friends standing behind her, silent and tense the moment they noticed Ale’a was holding her back. “By the time we get flying basics down, I bet he’ll be ready to spit fire with the best of them.”
That was true. Dragons had three pockets within their mouths, one in each cheek and one under their tongue. These filled with liquid and would combust on when mixed, which was what caused dragon fire. If a dragon had no pouches, then there would be no flame. And as far as Eist knew, Fior hadn’t developed them yet.
Turning to her friends, she tried to hold her face steady. “You lot go ahead. I’ve got things to do here.”
“But—” Yacrist stepped forward, his face stormy as if he wanted to defend her. But this wasn’t a thing to be defended against, it was just an unfortunate circumstance. Someone had tried to steal Fior, and Eist had gotten hurt getting him back. If given the choice, she’d do the whole thing over again.
Except for that cold, smiling man whose nail had left a crescent shaped scar in the center of her tongue. She hoped to never see him again or feel the cold violation of the power that emanated from him.
“It’s fine,” Eist interrupted before Yacrist could get anything else out that made her feel worse. “You guys go show everyone how it’s done.”
They seemed reluctant, but they filed off. Dille lingered behind, giving Eist one last uncertain look, but she just nodded to her friend. When they were all gone she turned back to Ale’a. “Alright, who’s going to be teaching me?”
“Well, that’s where you’re in luck, friend. I’ve been assigned as your personal tutor. Now come along, I’ve got a whole area set up over by the dummy weapons.”
Eist followed her, trying not to feel bitter. It was just another little hump that they would get over. Besides, seeing Fior finally be able to glide would make up for not being able to play the part of a fire-starter.
Or at least she hoped so.
“Come on, Fior, why are you being such a little rascal tonight?”
Eist held out a flank of salmon for her dragon, but he just looked behind her, his rounded snout pointing in another direction. Normally, they would be in their rooms and doing work with Dille at that point, their balcony doors open so Veralda could visit or sleep there, but Fior had been so obstinate that feeding him was taking three times longer than usual.
“I think you should listen to him.”
Eist turned her head to see Dille standing just at the steps that led up to the feeding porch. She had a tome in hand, like she had been studying, but her hair was mussed like she had fallen asleep at their desk again.
“How did you know we were still down here?” Eist asked.
She shrugged. “I’m not sure. I think I had a dream?”
“A dream that I was stuck feeding this ungrateful brat?”
“A dream that he was trying to tell you something.”
Oh.
Eist turned to Fior, looking at him while he stared at her. Normally, he was great at telling her if there was something he wanted, but his crystalline eyes were just on her, staring like it was obvious.
“What do you need, li'l guy?”
He stared some more, as if she was supposed to just know, before walking up and putting his front paws on her chest. Sitting up, he tilted forward until his snoot was resting right against her nose.
That brought them eye to eye, and for a moment, it felt like he was looking into her soul.
“I, uh, I don’t get it, Fior.”
“…I think he wants you to see.”
“I’m seeing right now,” Eist retorted before she realized what her friend meant.
Oh.
“No,” she said quickly, her eyes flicking to one of the lanterns that was hanging from the ceiling of the porch. As nice as it was to be able to see in the dark, there was something else about her vision that she hadn’t told anyone. Something that she was afraid to acknowledge.
Something else.
She couldn’t describe it, but when both of her eyes shifted into a witch’s gaze, it was like she could see other things. Little tendrils that curled in the air, trying to drag her vision this way or that. People glowed with certain colors and so did the things that belonged to them.
Eist didn’t want to think about those things and what they meant. She wanted everyone to think that her vision change just allowed her to see better in the dark and that was it.
“I don’t think he would ask if there wasn’t a good reason,” Dille said, sitting behind Eist so that their backs were flush to each other. It helped that she didn’t have to look at her friend’s face. She didn’t want the far-too-smart girl to see the fear and nervousness that were no doubt etched into her gaze.
“What would he need me to see in the dark for?”
“…is that the only thing you can see when you have both witch’s eyes?”
Eist stiffened and of course her friend noticed. That was the downside of knowing someone as keen as Dille. She missed nothing.
“How did you know?”
Eist felt her shrug. “I didn’t. Not for sure. It’s just I…” Eist waited, not used to hearing her friend search for words. “When we first met, did you ever feel like we were…familiar?”
“Familiar?” Eist repeated. “As in we’ve met before?”
“Yeah.”
“No. I can’t say I did. I noticed you because you seemed like me, and then you did the best out of everyone, but that’s it.”
“Like you?”
“Yeah. You know, someone that everyone would underestimate. Small. Not hero-ly.”
“Ah. I see.”
Eist let the silence hang for a moment before persisting. “You thought I was familiar?”
She nodded. “Yes. It was like I’d met you before, but I couldn’t say how, why, or when. It was just this feeling that I couldn’t shake. One that told me I could trust you. That being friends with you was exactly what I was supposed to do.”
“Huh,” Eist murmured. “That’s strange.”
“I suppose it is. Back then, it was really the only time I’d felt it, but nowadays, I feel it more often about different things.”
“What kind of things?”
“Well… That there’s something going on. Something lurking just under the surface that’s too dangerous to ignore, but that’s what everyone’s doing. That you can see more than you let on. That…” She went quiet again for a long moment. “That maybe magic is real beyond dragons, and it never should have been outlawed.”
“Ah,” Eist murmured, her gut churning at that. “Maybe…I feel that same thing that everyone’s denying. It’s hanging in the air, like smoke, and we’re all breathing it, but no one wants to cry
fire.” Another deep breath. “Maybe I can see…” She swallowed. Even after all these years, it was hard to admit certain things. “…more than I let on.”
“You didn’t say anything about the magic.”
“That’s because I know that’s real. I’ve seen it myself.”
“Oh.”
More silence between them, and Fior wouldn’t stop staring into Eist’s eyes.
“Will you tell me after we find out he wants?”
Well, in for a copper, in for a gold. “Sure. Will you turn out the lanterns for me?”
“You can’t call upon it at will?”
Eist shook her head. Even though her friend couldn’t see her, she knew that Dille could feel her movement. “No. It has to be dark.”
“Huh. Alright. I’ll extinguish them.”
She felt Dille get up and do just that, blowing out the lanterns one by one. Before she finished, Eist closed her eyes and focused on the strange sort of sliding feeling that she’d first discovered in the healing ward.
When she opened her eyes, it was bright as day around her, and everything was a little too sharp, a little too clear. Fior let out an incredibly happy chirp, apparently pleased as punch, then leapt down to the ground.
But Eist was still caught up in how her little lad looked. He was brindled as he always was, but glowing so golden that it almost hurt her gaze. It was like he had a whole sun buried under his skin and suddenly, she needed to touch it more than anything.
She reached under him and pulled him up to her chest. He was getting too heavy to do that, nearing the weight of a large hunting dog, but she hadn’t grown that weak during her healing.
He let out a happy chirp before wiggling out of her arms again. He arranged himself dutifully at her feet, staring up at her expectantly.
“What do you see?” Dille asked from behind her.
Eist looked around, taking in all the detail. It was even better than how she normally saw in the daylight, and there were so many things she had never noticed. Turning, her eyes swept over all the details before coming to a stop at Dille.