“Theola,” Tyber whispered, and his voice sounded to him like a hand clutching a taut rope.
“Go,” she whispered, then turned away.
Tyber picked himself up off the floor, then tip-toed over the children laid out in his path. Outside, his father stood not quite in the center of the courtyard, his hands behind his back, his face lifted to the northern sky. There, the eye of Thereena glittered back at him, larger and brighter than all the others in the sky.
“Why are you doing this?” Tyber’s father asked as Tyber stepped up to his side.
“I told you.”
Tyber shifted his feet. The dirt was hard-packed, yet soft underfoot. The heat of the day had long since bled away, and a chill breeze carrying the scents of dust and woodsmoke prickled his skin.
Tyber’s father turned to his son. The breeze ruffled his sleep-tossed hair, though it seemed doubtful that he’d had any better luck sleeping than Tyber had.
“What changed?” Father asked.
“What do you mean?”
Father shook his head. “You have never in your life expressed a desire to ride a dragon, or to join the King’s defenses. I could understand it if I was hurt or sick, unable to work, but nothing has changed. I just came home from the stables and heard that you’ve already signed up for the academy. It’s sudden. What changed?”
Tyber looked out along the single, narrow alley that exited the courtyard. On the other side, the shacks and cottages and buildings formed sharp and angled silhouettes, as if the city was a dump for discarded and broken shadows.
“Nothing changed,” Tyber said. “I’m just… I want something better, is all. For all of us. It’s thirteen—”
“It’s not the money, Ty,” his father said as he held up a hand. “I know. I know.” He sighed, shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I wish every night that I could do better for you and your brothers and sisters. But I do the best I can. I work as hard as I can. We all pitch in. It’s never enough, yet it is. We eat. We have a roof over our heads. We go hungry from time to time, but no one ever starves in my house.”
Tyber nodded his agreement rather than think of something to say. A knot swelled in his throat and kept him from speaking further.
“When I was your age, I was working in the same stable I work in now. I was meant to be a stonemason like your grandfather. My father that is. When he died, I was forced to give up my apprenticeship and work wherever I could to help support the family. By the time I reached your age, all I wanted out of life was a few, easy moments of comfort.”
Father stared out over the slope of the city, past the dark waters of the Gul River that ran below, hidden in the shadows. Beyond, dark and gray plains lay cold and quiet in the powdery light of the moon. He stood still and silent for so long that Tyber nearly asked him if he was all right.
“I met your mother,” Father finally said, his lips parting with an audible smack. “And I got those moments of comfort. I got a night, an evening, a few minutes here and there to feel… cared for. Cherished. It is what your mother did well. She made each of us feel like we belonged, didn’t she?”
Tyber nodded once. His mother’s face was nearly gone, eroded away by time. He closed his eyes and tried to recall the sight of her face smiling down at him.
“What would your mother say?” Father asked.
Tyber took a deep breath. “It’s for the best. Nothing around here is ever going to change if we just keep doing the same things.”
“Nonsense. Everything always changes. You grow up. Your brothers and sisters grow up. You realize in a heartbeat that half your life is gone and you failed to notice. The little twin babies I once held in my arms…” Tyber’s father crooked his arms in the dark and held imaginary twin babies. He looked from one to the other, and there was nothing there for him to see but the well-trodden dirt and the moonlit shadow of the wall.
“You are not a baby anymore. You are a young man now. One who comes home and says he’s striking out on his own. And that is to be expected. It’s the way of things.”
Father’s arms drifted back to his sides. “My father never had a chance to pass his wisdom on to me, Ty. I barely could cut a block when he died. I missed out on so much. So I want to tell you this now.”
Father turned to face Tyber, and Tyber nearly turned away, but then stopped. The day’s growth of beard and the angle of the pale light made his father’s face appear hollow and vacant as if he was emptying himself out to pass something on to his oldest son.
“What you get in this life is often what you pursue. All I have now are these small moments of comfort I find here and there, in your brothers’ and sisters’ smiles, in their laughter. Maybe a half-recalled dream of when I was younger, stronger. Back when I was foolish enough to have more hope. I have those things because that is what I wanted. I wanted small comforts from life, and now that’s all I have. And if that is all I ever get in this life, it will be enough. At least enough for me.”
Tyber looked to the ground between them, unsure of what to do with Father’s words. He reached up and tucked his hair behind his ears.
“When you are an old man, Ty, what will you have? You are going to be an old man someday. You are going to look back and find that you have what you wanted. You got what you chased. Your fist will be clenched around the thing you fought so hard for. What will it be?”
Tyber took a deep breath. He looked up to his father, who was hardly any taller than himself anymore. “I want my family to be taken care of. I want them to have enough to eat. Clothes on their backs. It’d be nice if we could have a cottage with another room in it. One for sleeping, you know?”
Father looked out over the city and the plains beyond. “Those are comforts, Ty. Those are simple comforts. Is that all you want?”
Tyber looked back to their cottage. It was one of the nicer homes in the small courtyard, yet hardly more than a shack. A warehouse stood behind it, about sixty feet away, and it made the cottage look even smaller. Heat flushed over Tyber’s face as if he had already failed a test before even reporting to the academy. “If the only comfort I get is knowing that my brothers and sisters aren’t going to bed hungry, then that should be enough.”
“If it is enough, then you will never have anything better.” Father grabbed Tyber by the arms and startled the young man.
“Want more. Demand more. If you were to tell me that you wanted more out of life than this…” He took a hand from his son’s arm to wave it absently at the slum around them, “then that would be enough. That would be reason enough for me. But to say you’re doing this just to feed the little ones?”
Father shook his head. “We do that. We may not do enough of it, but no one starves in our home. You don’t have to worry about that. You don’t have to do this if that is all you are doing it for.”
Tyber stepped back, and Father’s hands fell away.
“I’m…” He stopped. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring himself to tell his father the truth, that this was all because his son got caught in a stupid act of petty theft.
“I’m sorry,” Tyber said. “It’s just until the end of the first trial. I’ll be home then. And after a trial, I’ll have some experience. I’ll be able to get a good job. Something that pays regularly. I can help more.”
Father stared at him along with the eyes of thousands of gods. The top of the moon sat on the city wall like a pile of glowing ash.
“No one hires quitters, Ty,” Father said, and then returned to the cottage and was swallowed by the city’s starving shadows.
Chapter 6
The conversation with his father might as well have been a dream. It had the same qualities about it, seeming unreal and making little sense, existing only in Tyber’s head. He caught glimpses from Father over the following morning and evening that suggested it wasn’t a dream, but neither of them spoke of it. When his last morning came, Tyber saw Father off to his job, then spent the morning playing with his brothers and sisters, soaking in
their teasing and laughter until finally, Theola announced that the midday bell would ring soon, and it was time for them to go. She then made each child promise to behave for Fafa until she got back.
“Until you get back?” Tyber asked from the floor where his brothers and sisters had temporarily suspended their efforts to pin him and make him stay under the weight of their laughter.
“I’m seeing you off,” Theola said with a nod. She picked up a canvas sack of Tyber’s belongings from the edge of the table and slung it over her shoulder. “We should get going. Now.”
“No,” Tyber said as she slipped his arms and legs out of his siblings’ grips with relative ease. “No, you need to stay here and keep an eye on them.” He motioned at his quiet siblings, wide-eyed and blinking, their gazes heavy with growing tears.
“I do not. They’ve promised to be on their best behavior, right? Right?” She nodded at her brothers and sisters. They nodded back.
“I promise,” little Lin said. She stood and wrapped her fingers through Tyber’s belt.
“I don’t need you to go,” Tyber said. “I know the way.”
“Good,” Theola said. “Then I need not show you. I’ll just be along for the company. Let’s go.”
Tyber looked down at his brothers and sisters. It wouldn’t do to argue with Theola. Not in front of them. They could discuss it on the way to the gate.
“Come on,” Tyber said as he pulled Lin’s fingers from his belt and then crouched. He wiggled his fingers to signal they all gather around. “Give me hugs.”
A crush of children surrounded Tyber. A few called out their goodbyes while others began to cry.
“Come on, none of that,” Tyber said as he stood and rubbed the hair of the crying Lin. “I’m just going to be away for a short while, then I’ll be back. And I’ll bring you each a dragon scale, all right?”
The offer did little for the children’s spirits, and rather than make things worse, Tyber turned to the table, approached Fafa, and waited for the old man to stand and take a crushing hug from his grandson.
Finally, Tyber slipped the canvas strap from his twin sister’s shoulder, then waved goodbye to everyone and stepped out of the cottage, Theola on his heels.
As they passed through the slums and made their way to True Gate, Theola kept pace despite being half a head shorter and wearing a pair of sandals instead of boots. Tyber walked briskly. Not because he was in a hurry to get to the academy, but rather he wanted to get it over with and be one day closer to the day when he could return to his family.
“You know this isn’t fair, don’t you?” Theola asked.
“Fair?” Tyber looked over his shoulder at his sister who had fallen back as they cut through narrow paths between sagging buildings. “Why should any of it be fair? Nothing in this city is fair.”
“Don’t I know it!” Theola said. A flush of scarlet colored her cheeks. “But this, especially. You don’t like dragons. You have no interest in being a royal hordesman, and yet here I am, seeing you off to the academy instead of going myself.”
“You? Go to the academy?”
“Tyber, I would give almost anything to be in your shoes.”
Tyber halted long enough to glance at his boots. “They’re a bit big for you,” he said as he looked back at his sister, and her glare cut off the grin he was prepared to show.
“I would give almost anything to ride the dragons. I want to be a hordesman. I would die to have this chance that you seem to be treating as some sort of lark.”
“Lark?”
Theola shook her head. “You don’t want to do this.” She gestured at him. “It’s written all over you. I can see it on your face.”
“No,” Tyber said with a shake of his head. “Women can’t ride dragons. You know it’s not allowed.”
Theola thrust her fists onto her hips. She cocked an eyebrow in severe irritation and nudged her head in the direction of the west. “There’s a dragon queen out there in the west, on the edge of the kingdom who says different.”
Tyber averted his eyes, looked at the dirt and stone between them, then up to the wall that sat like a challenge. The city streets buzzed with rumors and tales of a woman in the west who had done what no woman was supposed to be able to do: bond with a dragon.
“That’s what’s been going on in the west,” Theola said as she continued. “That’s what really happened to Gerig and Prince Aymon. They went to take her dragons from her, and she took their dragons from them. She has a vast army of dragons now.”
Theola stepped up to Tyber. “That’s what this is about. The King wants more dragon riders because they’re afraid of the dragon queen. They say she’s seditious, that she wants the King’s throne—”
“Who’s been telling you this garbage?” Tyber asked.
“It’s not garbage! Willa told me.”
“Willa?”
“She has a friend who is the sister of a servant who serves in the house of a merchant. A leather merchant. She overheard her master discussing the sudden demand for leather. Saddles. Tack. It’s because the dragon queen took Prince Aymon’s and Gerig’s swells. It’s true!”
Tyber waved a dismissive hand. “All right. So a woman out on the edge of The Wilds was able to bond with a dragon, and now she has a horde. Do you really think she could stand up against more than two hundred dragons and riders? That’s how many they sent. Prince Aymon led eighty dragons to the west, and then Gerig led one hundred and sixty. They had to get riders and dragons from surrounding villages to come up with that many. Think about it. That is over two hundred dragons and riders. Against one horde with a female dragoneer?” Tyber shook his head.
“No one person could stand up against that. The truth is that the Western kingdom has increased its attacks. I heard it from Nather, who heard it—”
Theola grabbed Tyber about the arm. “Really?” she asked. “You believe that? The Western kingdom has been attacking us for centuries. Suddenly, they ramp up their attacks to such a degree that the King needs you to ride a dragon?”
Tyber wrenched his arm from his sister’s grip. “I don’t care. I’m not going to ride a dragon anyway.” He turned away from Theola and began to walk down the lane. “I’m going to fail out long before they let me anywhere near a dragon.”
Theola let out a bark of a laugh. “That’s right, Tyber. You do that. You fail out, and you come back here, because if you waste this opportunity, if you throw it away, then I swear, when you get back, it’s your turn to be Father’s babysitter. I’m packing up a satchel of my own, and I’m heading west. I’m going to join the dragon queen’s horde.”
Tyber stopped and looked back. Theola stood in the lane, her feet straddling one of the ruts worn into the ground. She leaned forward slightly and pointed to the west. “I’m serious, Tyber.”
“You’ll just waste your time,” Tyber said, and then felt awful for having said it.
“You want to talk about wasting time?” Theola asked. “Where are you going now?”
Tyber took a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say anything stupid. It’s…” He flapped a disgusted hand at the towering wall off to his right.
Theola appeared to relax a bit and reconsider something. Finally, she walked forward, falling in beside Tyber once again. He kept up with her as she tried to outpace him. At True Gate, she did her best to hide her winded breath, and more than once, as they waited in line to be waved through with the traders and laborers, he caught her looking at him. When he turned to her, to hear what she had to say, she looked away, staring at something else and crossed her arms over her chest.
She did her best to look like she didn’t care what Tyber did, or what happened to him, but he’d known her all his life, even before they were born.
There was little they could hide from each other.
Chapter 7
To Tyber’s relief, Rerret the blacksmith wasn’t outside in front of his shop as they walked past heading toward the academy. Tyber peered up
at the sun, saw that it had a short way to go yet before it crested the peak of the Gods’ Reach tower, and so he suggested that they stop and take a break.
Theola glanced up to the top of the tower as well, then shook her head. “You can’t be late.”
“We have plenty of time,” Tyber said as he gestured at the sun, but she wouldn’t hear him out.
Theola kept her pace with Tyber by her side until they stepped off of the pavers of Dragon Lane onto a lush carpet of soft green chamomile. The chamomile rolled across the yard and through the high arches of a large building that sat in front of the wall. The building’s many buttresses made it look like it was trying to grow a set of tall, spindly legs so it could peek over the wall.
A man with a sheaf of parchment approached them. He was the clerk Tyber had spoken to two days earlier. On either side of him walked a pair of boys that looked to be around twelve or thirteen years of age.
“Tyber, is it?” the clerk asked.
“I took the oath,” Tyber said with a nod.
“Good. Good,” the clerk said to his sheaf of paper. He peered back up at Tyber and gestured at his satchel. “One of the weyrboys will take your satchel and place it in your room. Another will take you over to the archery range.”
The clerk swept his hand back to indicate a row of targets set up along the wall beside the academy. A collection of young men plucked up arrows stuck in the ground before them and then launched them at the targets.
“Do you have any experience with archery?” the clerk asked.
Tyber shook his head.
“No matter,” the clerk said with a grin. “There will be classes. Feel free to watch the others or try your own hand. You will be summoned when Wing Master Yaris is ready for you.”
“Yaris?” Tyber asked.
The clerk grinned and nearly bowed at the neck. “Yes. It is a tradition that the Wing Master address new recruits on the first day of trials. This will be his first address as Wing Master.”
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