by Martha Carr
She froze, however, when she pulled the screen door open and saw her grandfather standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Shit.
Surprised, he turned around to look at her. “What happened to you?”
She limped in and let the screen door slam behind her. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Did you get into a fight? Did someone attack? Did something attack you?”
“Grandpa, I’m beaten up pretty bad. My head is foggy. I just want to rest. Please?”
Connor looked forlornly at his ailing granddaughter. “Fine, but we’re going to talk at some point. Go lay down.”
“Thank you.”
She lumbered past him and reached her room, pausing in the doorway to catch her breath. “One, two, three…” She launched herself at the bed and fell backward, squeezing her eyes shut against the rolling ache that crept up her back and through her shoulders. The dried crusts of leftover mud fell off in clumps all over her bed, but she didn’t notice. She was already fast asleep, dreaming of soaring through clouds, her fingers twitching.
Raven was startled awake by a knock on the front door. She blinked and rolled gingerly out of bed, limping into the front room and opening the front door wide enough to see if it was one of the hands looking for her grandfather.
William stood on the front porch, pacing.
“Hey, William? Did I forget something at the ranch?” She looked past him at the inky black sky. “What time is it?”
“Still a long time until morning. I couldn’t sleep. How are you feeling?” He spoke in a low, soft voice. “Connor asleep?”
Raven nodded, opening the front door a little wider to let him in. “Fuzzy, like someone stuffed one of your old shirts in my mouth while I was sleeping.” He opened the screen door and stepped inside.
“Don’t worry, I can still move my arms.” She tried rolling her shoulders and thought better of it. “Well, in theory, I can.”
They walked to the kitchen table and she grabbed two cups, filled them with water, and set them on the table between them before sitting down. “What brings you here?”
“Thanks.” He grabbed one of the cups and took a swig. “I wanted to check on you. See if you’re okay, you know?”
“Not sure I do know. You didn’t sound very concerned when it happened.”
William shrugged, giving her an uneasy smile. “Look, I knew that was going to happen when you charged into Leander’s pen, but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand how painful it was. I’ve been tossed around like that a few times.”
“A warning would have been nice.”
“I seem to remember giving you a few of them, and you told me to step aside.” He patted her arm and drew his hand back when she winced. “That bad?”
She gave him a withering glare. “I look like I have the plague. I’m covered in black and blue spots. Quit smiling!”
“Come on, I don’t like seeing my friends hurting. And I still had work to do. I took time away to get you going with him, and it put me behind on other things.”
Raven ran her fingers through her hair, gently massaging her scalp and trying to stay awake. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He burst out laughing. “No shit.”
She gave him a crooked smile despite her pain. “I’m serious. I’m going to talk Fowler into letting me try to bring a goddamn dragon to school.”
William’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re still thinking of taking a dragon as your familiar? Even after today? That’s...that’s something.”
“And now I told everyone and committed myself.”
“Or should be.”
“Hardy-har. And I’m training a dragon I can’t get a saddle on, much less get him to listen.” She counted off the list. “Leander has to pass his tests or his wings get clipped, and I’m out a familiar and out of school for a year. What tests do I have to get him to pass?”
“Breathe, Raven. That’s what I’ve been trying to get you to understand. You don’t have to do any of this alone.” He slurped his water. “First, there’s a time trial. It’s a special course set up on the far side of the kingdom outside the walls. It tests his strength, speed, sense of direction, and overall abilities. He has to clear it in three minutes or less.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. “I’m doubling my workload by training a dragon.” Raven leaned back in her chair. “How the hell did I get into this mess?”
“By saying you want to be a dragon trainer when you’re from a famous family of mages. I didn’t say it.”
“Mage in training. Very clever way of saying it anyway.”
“Take one thing at a time. I’ll be there to coach you the whole way. You have to train him, but I’ll make sure you’re doing it right. You just have to listen to me and not be so headstrong all the time. If you train a dragon, you have to do it the right way, or you’re going to end up like this pretty much every time you get in there with him.”
She stared at him for a moment, wondering if she should trust him. We have to be a team.
Without saying a word, she stood up and disappeared down the hall. She emerged with her small backpack and dropped it on the table. “There’s something else.”
“What’s in there?”
Raven unzipped the main pocket and pulled out the small orb. “Grandpa gave it to me.” She handed it to him. “He said it will tell me if something bad is coming.”
William took the orb in his right hand and held it up to eye level. “What do you mean by ‘something bad?’”
“There’s been talk in the town of something happening, I don’t know, to the town. Basically, if this orb turns from white to red, the shit is about to go down.”
He peered into the orb. “Okay, well, it’s white. What’s the problem?”
“Is it?” Raven took it from his hands and stared into it deeply. “I think it’s starting to change. Look, right here along the bottom. That’s not white anymore. That’s pink, isn’t it?”
“I mean, maybe.” He squinted his eyes. “If it’s pink, it’s barely pink. I don’t think that means anything. That ball is white. All is well in the kingdom.” He tapped the top of it. “If that whole thing turns red, then what? You’re supposed to go to war?”
She opened her mouth to answer but stopped. “I don’t know. I’m not sure if I’m just supposed to be on watch or on guard, or if I’m supposed to, you know, fight. I don’t even know what would be coming at us.”
“That makes it hard to fight.”
She put the orb down and pressed her hand to her sore back. “Then again, after today, I’m not as sure of my fighting skills either. You see what I mean?”
“Problem number two: you were trying to fight a dragon. You want to train a dragon.” William got up from the table. “I think you’re seeing things. I have to get back to the ranch and get some sleep. When you’re ready to try again, let me know, and I’ll make time to help. Otherwise, rest up and heal, okay?” He shook his head. “I have a feeling I’m talking to myself. At least wait for everything to dry out.”
He kissed the top of her head and slipped out the door, quickly disappearing into the darkness. Raven shut the door behind him and went to look at the orb again. That’s pink at the bottom; I know it is! The fog in her head started to clear, and she slapped the table with both hands.
She slipped the orb into her backpack and carried it down the hall, running her hand along the wall to steady herself. The door to her grandfather’s room opened, and he peered out, concerned. “Was that William’s voice? Has something happened?”
“I insisted on trying to saddle a new dragon. Don’t worry, William was there the whole time. Turns out, you can fly without a dragon. It was only a few feet. and I kept eating dirt on my landings, but it was a kind of flying.”
Connor listened to her with a smirk. “Sounds like you had an eventful day. Now what?”
“I’m going to rest so I can make it to classes in the morning.”
> “Please be careful, Raven. We just healed your shoulder from an arrow wound. You’re not indestructible.”
“It’s just a bunch of bruises. William seems to think it’s normal.”
“William has a unique idea of normal. Okay, okay, you can keep going. I know how important it is to you. What’s going on with that?”
Raven had pulled out the orb and was showing it to him in the dim light. “Do you see it? That’s a little pink, right there,” she said, running her fingernail along the bottom. “If that orb is starting to turn, I need to be ready. I can’t be lounging around here, even if I’m beat up. I’m going back to that ranch, and I’m going to get that red dragon to listen to me.”
“You two are a matched set in a few ways. Is he supposed to become your familiar?”
Raven looked sheepish, lacing her fingers together. “That was the original thought. What have I done?”
He smiled, concern in his eyes as he took a closer look at the orb. “You’re a spitfire, just like your father was. I have no doubt in my mind that you’re going to get that dragon under control.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Being a spitfire runs in the family, huh?”
“You bet.”
“How about dragon-riding? Does that run in the family, too?”
The smile faded from Connor’s face. “Imagination runs in the family, and you’re spending too much time talking to this old man. Go rest. I’m going back to sleep. The sun will rise before we know it.”
Raven pointed to her ribs. “Can you heal these? It really hurts.”
Connor sniffed and shook his head. “Not yet, and you’re fine. It’s part of the price of training dragons. It’ll help you remember not to repeat your mistakes. Don’t worry, time will take care of it.”
Chapter Eighteen
The sun was barely up before Raven had finished her chores and headed to the ranch gate with her satchel strapped across her chest.
Henry was waiting for her, leaning on the fence with his mouth hanging open. “What the hell happened to you?”
She walked past him, forcing him to jog to catch up to her. “Let’s just say my familiar wasn’t too cooperative yet. He ended up giving me flight lessons without him.”
He whistled. “That’s bad news, Raven. Are you going to be okay?”
“I don’t have a choice. I just have to get through classes and get back to the Moss Ranch to work with the dragon some more.” She glanced at Henry’s shoulder. “Where’s your toad?”
He patted the brown leather strap on his shoulder. “Safely in the bag. I’m not chasing him through town anymore.”
“Can he breathe in there?”
“I made him a hidey-hole. He’s even got a few large crickets for a snack.”
“Is that the screeching sound I hear? Sounds like a small battle in your backpack.”
“Call of the wild. Did you do the herbal potions homework? I couldn’t get the right feverfew leaf to ginger ratio. There’s still a glowing glob of something on the wall of my room. What did Professor Finch say?”
“It’s three parts to one with a sprinkle of dandelion. Only the petals.”
He slapped his forehead. “That’s what I did! I used Queen Anne’s lace! Those weeds confuse me.”
“Leave something for the faeries when you’re in the woods, and they’ll help you. A few walnuts or some dried berries work well.”
“Professor Finch scares me—those little round spectacles, and the way he looks right through you. You think that’s an actual spell? You can see inside of somebody?”
“All the professors scare you, and they can see what you’re up to at a glance without a spell.” Raven shifted the bag on her shoulder, letting out a low oof.
“Are you sure you’re gonna make the whole walk? Let me carry your bag.”
“You don’t have to—”
He cut her off, holding up his hand. “I’m your best friend. It’s what we do. You’d do it for me, right?”
Raven eased her bag off her shoulder, glad to have the weight gone and handed it over. “Thank you,” she said, smiling. “Let’s go through the different herbal combinations. We have time.”
They recited them together like a song as they got closer to the edge of town. Merchants were setting up their wares for the day.
Mrs. Whittaker called to Raven, “I saved you two rolls. You have time?”
Raven gratefully took them, handing one to Henry. “Thank you! The day is already better.”
“I’ll say,” said Henry, biting the roll in two.
“That’s a huge boy. I’ll get you another.”
Raven looked around and noticed the empty stoop. The baker came back with two more hot rolls, raisins dotting the top. “Tell your grandfather hello from me. His goat’s milk is the best.”
Raven nodded. “Where’s the old veteran who’s always near your shop?”
The baker looked to the right and left, scratching his head. “That’s odd. He’s always here when I open. He likes to get his roll hot too. I take care of the veterans,” she said with a smile.
“His name is Peter, right?”
“Let me think. That sounds about right. Never did get the last name.”
“Do you know the Smitheys?”
“No, can’t say as I do. Friends of yours?”
Raven shook her head. “No, sorry to have bothered you. He must have been confused.”
Mrs. Whittaker smiled and waved as she went back inside.
Raven took a short trot around the square, ignoring her aches, but she couldn’t find any sign of the old wizard.
“Are you worried about the old guy? He looks like he can take care of himself.” Henry licked his fingers, a satisfied grin on his face. “Food, good.” They started walking through the town again.
“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right. Maybe the rain drove him somewhere.”
“Looks like everybody’s catching up after being inside all day yesterday.” Several shopkeepers were busy sweeping the fronts of their stores or wiping down windows.
They got to the square, and Raven pointed to the bulletin board as they neared it. “Check out the board. Those papers are soaked.”
Henry nodded as he approached the board, extending his finger to push the thin mushy wad of papers. A sludgy chunk of the documents fell away, wrapping around his left boot. “Son of a bug farmer!” He stepped back, trying to shake it off.
Raven looked solemnly at what was left on the board. “Where could all these people be?”
He peeled off the last of the slimy papers. “My dad says it doesn’t matter. Whoever these people are, they’re long gone.”
“How can he say that?”
“According to him, nobody has ever been found from these Missing Person reports. It’s just some formality thing. Makes people feel like something is getting done.”
Raven scowled. “That makes no sense,” she protested.
“Dad says most of the people have moved on to other parts of the kingdom, and lots of them don’t want to be found.”
“Has anyone tried the back tables at the Wrangler?”
“Good one and not a bad idea. You still worried about Isaac? No one’s heard from him?
“No, not a word. I checked the bunkhouse this morning.”
“He must have gotten a better offer from someone. Job, girlfriend.” He looked at his friend, patting her on the back. “That’s not your biggest worry. You know that, right? Time is passing, and you’re still stuck on a stubborn dragon for a familiar.”
“It’s the only animal that’s calling to me.”
“Then you better get him in line, or I’ll be walking to school alone. Come on, we better move along.”
“Those rolls gave you a boost of energy.”
“Food is fuel, Raven! I know, Maxwell, we’re almost there.” Henry patted his bag as he picked up the pace.
They passed the other shops. Mr. Jones shoveled mud out of his workspace as they stepped around leftover puddles.
The pennants that flew on the top of the school turrets drew closer, and they hurried past the woods, over the small bridge, and past the few houses, arriving at the tall gates. Students spilled out of the main hall and split in every direction.
“We’re not late, are we?” Raven looked at the shadows falling across the grass, estimating the time. “Murphy!” She waved to her friend.
“Hey, there you are! No assembly this morning. We’re to go straight to class. I can’t wait. I love weapons class.”
“You love watching the professor of weapons class,” said Henry. Raven nudged him in the ribs. “Oof, don’t poke my buns.” He grinned, his dimples showing, and handed her the bookbag. “I have Magical History first thing. I have to hustle up to the second floor. Fingers crossed I stay awake.”
“That’s too low a profile.”
He laughed and pointed at Raven as he turned and took off at a run.
“Come on,” said Murphy, hooking arms with Raven. They walked around the long side building and back near the barns. They saw their weapons professor, Auguste Fellows standing in front of their class with a longbow in his hand and a quiver on his back. Straw targets were set up on metal stands twenty yards away.
“The best,” whispered Murphy, smiling and waving to the professor. He nodded and pointed with the bow to the group. “Line up, everyone.”
Murphy let out a loud sigh and pulled Raven along. “He’s way too old for you.”
“Not for looking!”
The professor was a lean, muscular wizard with long dark hair falling past his shoulders. He was always dressed in a tunic and hunting pants with tall boots, and a weapon was never far away.
Neither were some of the senior girls who found excuses to hang around him and ask endless questions until he shooed them away.
He was one of two professors hard-pressed to be found in the standard uniform of a black linen robe. The other was Professor Ridley, who preferred something more dramatic.
“Welcome, everyone, to your first defensive demonstration. Not only is it important to know how to use a weapon, but it’s also vital to know how to defend against them. Now, I need a volunteer.”