The Dragoneer Trilogy

by Vickie Knestaut

  She swallowed. She blinked away the cold. No. He would not give the title to her. He would pick another of the hordesmen, one that he favored over the others.

  They would have to start over from scratch, training a new hordesman to bond with Elevera. They didn’t have the time.

  Trysten took another deep breath. “We don’t have the time. The fighting season is coming. I’m afraid if you wanted to have cold feet, you should have developed them sooner. You should have told my father the truth back when he first approached you.”

  Paege’s gaze fell to the ground. A gust of wind stirred a whirlwind of snow that raced off between the hills. Elevera shuffled her feet, flicked her wings. Snow was not something that dragons cared for.

  “Then I suppose we should get down to business, then,” Paege said.

  Trysten nodded. She approached Elevera and held her hand up to Paege. He patted Elevera’s neck. She knelt down onto her elbows while Paege grabbed Trysten’s wrist and pulled her up. The riding saddle didn’t accommodate two riders, and so Trysten sat on the border of the blanket that stuck out from under the back of the saddle.

  Paege yanked on the lip of the saddle. Elevera stood, then launched herself into the sky with a great push of her wings. Without stirrups or straps to help keep her in place, Trysten wrapped her arms around Paege’s torso.

  The dragon undulated slightly beneath them as she climbed into the air. Once she reached the tops of the hills, she spread her wings wide, twisted to her right, and slid back down into the dale before she caught a breeze channeled between the two hills. With another twitch of her wings, they were lifted up into the air on the back of the wind. Elevera beat her wings some more, searched for more currents, for more air forced up over the hills as it fled the air pushed down over the distant mountains. Soon, they circled high in the sky, among the twirling flakes of snow. Off in the east, the village of Aerona was visible as a patch of flecked brown among the white foothills. Small twists of smoke lifted from various buildings, the largest one being the weyr.

  Her grip on Paege tightened. How vulnerable the village looked from this height. It sat in the open, among rolling plains of snow-covered heather and grass for as far as she could see to the eastern horizon. To the west, the mountains sat thick and dark, tops shrouded by clouds until a great, golden wing of leathery flesh eclipsed the view for a second.

  Trysten’s envy bubbled through her veins, sped up, and grew sharper. The hordesmen always made themselves out to be so brave, as if they were sacrificing so much to be hordesmen, to be the dragon riders ready to fling themselves headlong into battle at a moment’s notice. They never talked of this, of the trade they made. Yes, they flew into battle, but most of the year, they rode on the backs of dragons and called it training. They lived in the sky. They were the equals of birds. Such a life was no sacrifice.

  Elevera pushed them higher and higher yet until the village became barely discernible through the swirling snow. The ground itself was fuzzy, little more than fog. If Trysten fell off, she’d drop into a mist and fall forever, according to the view she held now.

  The cold bit into her. The chill ached in her cheekbones. Her hands tingled despite thick, woolen mitts wrapped around Paege’s midsection. She leaned forward some, shifted, and immediately Paege’s posture went tight and rigid beneath her.

  “Send her through maneuvers,” Trysten called above the breathless wind.

  “What kind of maneuvers?”

  “Please keep in mind that I’m not strapped down,” she replied.

  Paege nodded. He sat a moment more, then leaned into the lip of the saddle. Elevera’s wings leveled out, and they drifted in the sky, wobbling back and forth in the breeze.

  Paege gave a short kick of his heels. Trysten felt the movement pass through his body, the way his torso moved as she buried her raw face into his back to warm her cheeks. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his knee dip as he ordered Elevera to descend. And then the dragon tilted her wings forward some as she drew them in. They began to descend. A breeze hit them hard, and Elevera fell into a wide spiral. Normally, such a maneuver would have thrilled her, but the snow and the height, the cold and the lack of ties all left her stomach lurching, nauseous.

  Elevera stretched one wing out while twisting the other. They sailed down. Paege leaned forward on the lip of the saddle. Elevera drew her wings in further. Their descent increased. It felt as if they were dropping. Trysten peered over Paege’s shoulder. The snow-covered ground rushed at them. It appeared so soft and gentle. Off on another hill, a smattering of small, gray specks moved among the snow. Wolves.

  Trysten tapped on Paege’s shoulder, then pointed to the wolves. Suddenly, Elevera threw out her wings and lifted the right. They careened off in the direction of the wolves. Trysten gripped Paege tight and clenched her jaw as speed pushed her down against Elevera’s spine. She was mostly safe on the dragon’s back, as long as she didn’t try and fly upside down, but the speed was still a little unnerving.

  The dragon let up some.

  “What is she doing?” Paege yelled over his shoulder.

  “What is who doing?”

  “Elevera! What is she doing?”

  “Aren’t you the rider?”

  “I told her to descend. She’s acting on her own right now.”

  “Are you giving her directions?”

  “I’m trying!”

  The dragon spread its wings wide. She let out a ferocious roar as she came upon the wolves. A blast of fire escaped her jaw and dissipated above the wolves as they scrambled and fled.

  “By the wilds!” Paege cursed.

  Elevera tipped to her right and spun around in a quick, tight circle.

  “Paege!” Trysten screamed as she clutched his torso.

  “It’s not me! She’s on her own.”

  Elevera straightened out and left the pack of wolves to flee across the hills.

  As Elevera’s flight leveled off in speed and altitude, Trysten sat up and peered over Paege’s shoulders to see where his hands rested upon the lip of the saddle. She then wrapped her hands around his shoulders so that she might feel if he gave any additional orders through the saddle’s lip.

  “What are you doing?” Paege asked.

  “Tell her to go up.”

  Paege pulled back on the lip of the saddle. Elevera’s wings began to flap, and she climbed towards the sky.

  “Harder,” Trysten called.

  Paege scraped his heels up along the dragon’s side. Her wing beats grew more furious. She undulated slightly as she powered up into the sky.

  “Level off.”

  Paege gave what amounted to a tiny flap of his legs, enough to let the broad side of his feet and ankles bounce off the dragon’s side. She immediately leveled off.

  Trysten placed her cheek against Paege’s back and stared out across the hills to the mountains. They seemed closer now as if they had sneaked up on them during the excitement. The mountains were trying to surprise them, to get within striking range and then let loose a horde of Western dragons.

  Trysten pulled a breath of air from the sky, and it hurt. It sat in her chest hard and sharp. All of the oxygen slipped right back out of her lungs, too cold and thin to hold onto. She wrapped her arms around Paege’s torso again, then thought of dropping down, of a full-on dive towards the ground. She pictured the matted plains and the white snow rushing towards her.

  Elevera’s wings folded in.

  Paege screamed as they dropped from the sky. He jerked and pushed against Trysten as he fought to regain control of the falling dragon. He yanked on the saddle’s lip and kicked with the sides of his feet to convince her to level off and rise.

  Despite the hammering of her heart and the tremble in her cheek where she felt fear rumble through Paege’s chest, she continued to imagine the ground rushing up, coming for them, ready to smash them like an insect.

  Then she pictured Aeronwind. She pictured the great, gray wings like clouds made tangible and int
o something one could touch and stroke. She pictured the wings folding out, the dragon streaking over her as it came out of a dive, the tail straight and flowing behind her, like the tail of a comet.

  Elevera’s wings snapped out. The bottom of Trysten’s stomach dropped as the dragon streaked across the hills. She opened her eyes and peered over the dragon’s side. The tops of hills and twisted bits of shrubbery zipped by mere yards beneath the dragon’s claws.

  “For all the sky!” Paege panted. He yanked back on the lip of the saddle and raked up on Elevera’s sides with his heels.

  The dragon began to lift, to trade some of its momentum back to the sky, but then Trysten imagined her going to ground. She pictured the great, golden wings spreading out wide and upwards, the claws taking the ground as if she were claiming the very land as her own.

  Atop the next hill, Elevera settled to the ground.

  “What in the wilds is wrong with you!” Paege yelled at Elevera.

  Trysten swung her leg back and over the dragon. She slid off and dropped to the ground with a little hop. “It’s not her. It’s me,” she called up.

  Paege furrowed his brow as he peered down at her. “You?”

  “I… can’t explain it.”

  “Well, by the wilds, I sure can’t!”

  “She’s responding to me.”

  Paege glanced from Trysten to Elevera, who stood in the snow and stared down at her, as if waiting for the next command, the next desire to cross Trysten’s mind.

  “How do you mean she’s responding to you?”

  Trysten took several steps back in the crunching snow. Elevera’s gaze followed her. By the wilds, was her father right? Was it best for her to put some distance between herself and Elevera, allow the connection between Paege and the dragon to strengthen without strain from her?

  She tugged at one of her braids.

  As if working out something for himself, Paege leaned forward in the saddle. He placed the palm of his hand against the back of Elevera’s neck, then flicked his heels forward against the sides of her shoulders. Elevera ambled forward several awkward steps. Once he sat back upright and removed the palm of his hand from Elevera’s neck, she stopped and turned her attention back to Trysten. She gave the impression of seeking approval.

  “For all the sky!” Paege spat. “Look at her! It’s like she’s only following my commands because she thinks it might impress you. This has nothing to do with me, does it? I will never bond with this dragon!”

  Trysten shot a glare up at Paege. Was it too late? Her gaze went beyond Paege and to the mountains behind him, solid and ominous as close as they were now. If she held her breath, might she hear the roar of Western dragons in the canyons already?

  She shook her head. It was apparent that she had a special bond with Elevera. Might she use that to their advantage? Her insight might be exactly what was needed to convince Elevera that she needed to bond with Paege for the good of the horde.

  Chapter 16

  Trysten approached Elevera. She held up her hand as if reaching for a high object. On cue, Elevera lowered her head and nuzzled her palm. Trysten reached up and stroked the top of the dragon’s snout.

  “I’ve been around these dragons all my life. And with my father, no less. I just have a relationship with them formed by time. That’s all. I can teach you what I know.”

  Paege glared up at the mountain range. His frustration would be a barrier to the dragon.

  “Dismount. I want to show you something.”

  Paege considered her a second, and then swung his leg over and dropped to the ground.

  “Come here. I want you to look right into Elevera’s eyes.”

  Paege approached slowly and stared up into the dragon’s eyes. Elevera continued to gaze at Trysten as he dropped her hands to her sides. Elevera then dipped her head a bit more, as if she might seek out and nudge Trysten’s hands back into action. The dragon paused as Trysten moved her hands behind her back.

  “This isn’t—” Paege began.

  “Quiet!”

  She took a deep breath, then imagined Paege’s hazel eyes. Her own eyelids began to drift shut as she pictured the dark pupils, the flecks of gold in the green of his eyes. The way his eyes always appeared to be searching.

  Elevera shifted her gaze to Paege.

  “Good girl,” Trysten muttered.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing. Are you staring into her eyes?”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you see?”

  “What do you mean, ‘What do I see’? I see Elevera’s eyes.”

  “You’re not making this easy,” Trysten said.

  Paege shifted. “It’s not easy.”

  A cold breeze rattled them all.

  “Look into her eyes. Tell me… Tell me what you feel.”

  “Cold.”

  “Paege,” Trysten said with a sigh.

  “Well, what am I supposed to be feeling? I’m cold. And I’m frustrated. And I’m worried. How in the wilds am I going to keep the horde from absconding? I can’t do it. Your father may be a great warrior and dragoneer, but he did a lousy job of picking his successor.”

  “Stop!” Trysten commanded.

  Elevera flicked her gaze back to Trysten.

  “That’s your problem,” Trysten continued. “You’re too caught up in yourself. You’re only paying attention to what is going on inside of you. You need to open yourself up. Focus on the dragon. Focus on Elevera. You have to be paying attention to what she feels.”

  “What she feels? How do I do that?”

  “You see it in her eyes. It’s there.”

  “You’re kidding me.”

  Trysten glanced at Paege. Her face no longer felt bitten by the cold. “Do you want to bond with this dragon or not?”

  Paege glanced away. Color flushed his cheeks. “I’m sorry. Elevera,” he called to the dragon. “Look at me. Please.”

  Elevera continued to stare at Trysten. She resumed picturing Paege’s eyes, and then the dragon turned her attention back to Paege.

  “Now, pay attention. Look into her eyes. Watch. Tell me what you see. Tell me what you feel. Describe it. No matter what comes into your head, no matter how silly it sounds or feels, tell me about it.”

  They stood in silence a few moments. The wind ruffled them, batted at their ears. A slight hissing sound came from the snow as it fell in wind-driven waves and added to the several inches on the ground. Nearby, a flutter of great, feathered wings gave away the approach of a bird of prey, and then it was silent as it fell atop its quarry, no longer hidden by the snow and the great, empty expanse of the hills.

  Paege shook his head. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  Trysten inhaled a deep breath. “I already told you what to say.”

  He shook his head again. “And I already told you what I feel, but it is apparently not what you wanted to hear.”

  As Trysten began to extend her hand to the dragon, Elevera turned her head away from Paege and nuzzled her palm again. She cupped the point of the dragon’s chin and held it.

  “I look into her eyes, and I see… curiosity. She is wondering what is going on here. What are we up to? This is unlike any of the other things that humans have made her do. She’s a little amused. She’s cold, though. And she’s a little impatient to take to the sky.”

  Trysten’s brow furrowed slightly. “And she’s worried. She wants to get back to the weyr and check on Aeronwind.”

  “That’s a fine idea,” Paege said.

  “She’s worried.”

  “You said.”

  “No,” Trysten said with another shake of her head. “She’s worried about something else as well. She’s worried about…” She let her words trail off as she was flooded with images of the horde, of the dragons flying away, fanning out as they sought a new alpha.

  “About what?” Paege asked.

  “About… my father. She’s worried about my father as well.”

  E
levera lifted her chin from Trysten’s palm.

  Paege rocked back once on his heels. “How can you tell all of that?”

  Trysten shoved her hands into the pockets of her over-sweater. She glanced at Paege. His bangs were starting to look damp where they stuck out from beneath the edge of the leather helmet.

  She shrugged. “I can. It’s there, in her eyes. It’s the way… The way her eyes shift. You know how you can enter a room sometimes and just know what mood people are in by the way they are sitting?”

  Paege stared as if waiting for her to explain herself.

  She turned back to the dragon. How did her father do it? He had always written off her insight in the past when she had alluded to it, referred to it as the fancies of a young girl with a powerful imagination. But there was no doubt that he was the Dragoneer, that the entire horde acquiesced to him, saw him as their leader and master. How did he do it if he couldn’t sense what they were feeling or thinking? There had to be trick that he used. If she knew what it was, then she might be able to use it, along with her own abilities, to encourage the relationship both Paege and Elevera needed to keep the horde together.

  She turned to Paege. “How does my father do it? What does he tell you to do?”

  Paege, still staring at Elevera, shrugged. “I don’t know. He tells us to form bonds with them by interacting with them. We do a lot of exercises.”

  The second before Trysten was about to ask for more explanation, Paege reached up and brushed his damp bangs off of his forehead. The cold had settled into his cheeks, and they were a vibrant red now. They would be cold to the touch if she took off her mitten and laid her palm against them.

  “He tells us to think of the dragons as extensions of ourselves. He says that we can’t think about them as if we are riding them. They’re not horses. They’re not tools. When we’re riding, we have to be aware of them. We have to know where every part of them is in relation to ourselves, like how you always know where your feet and your hands are in relation to yourself. And we have to feel them like we feel our arms and legs. We have to pay attention to their movements. We have to be able to tell with our thighs how they are shifting, what their wings are doing, how they are changing their postures.”