by Steve Bryant
I didn’t sleep at all. I lay awake until the sun started to rise, thinking about what I’d be in for the next day, and whether or not I would able to do whatever Ulric asked of me. Being willing was one thing, but being physically capable was another. My heart could be in it all day long, but I couldn’t will myself into greater strength.
When I heard Ulric unlocking his shop, I was on my feet and in my shoes, waiting for him down the ladder before he could even swing the door open. He glared down at me like he’d found a dead mouse in his shoe, brushing past me without a word.
I stood awkwardly by the door with my hands clenched into fists, and my feet ready to run in case he turned on me again. He started into a routine I knew all too well. I’d seen him pack up his tools before, and it made my stomach twist into those painful, hopeful knots all over again.
“Sweep out the mess you made,” he mumbled with his back to me. “Then hitch up the wagon, and bring it around.”
“Yes sir,” I answered quickly, and went to get the broom. I swept away the dried up leftovers of Mrs. Crookin’s bread that were still scattered on the floor. I swept the whole shop out, working so quickly that it had me sweating before I went outside into the cold morning air.
The fog was still thick and heavy, making the steep countryside look ominous and grim as I went to the barn and brought out the old draft horse Ulric used to pull his wagon. The giant horse could’ve kicked my head off if he’d had the mind to, but the sad old thing didn’t act like he had enough energy to trot, much less kick anyone. I hitched him to the small cart Ulric used every spring to carry his tools and materials to Blybrig.
When I led the horse and wagon around to the workshop, Ulric was already stacking crates outside to load onto it. He commanded me to help him, and I tried my best. My arms weren’t strong enough to lift the heavy wooden crates full of tools, but I could carry the sawhorses, and I helped pile the rolls of uncut leather onto the wagon. We covered everything with blankets to offer some protection from the elements, and tied ropes tautly over the load to keep anything from falling out during the trip.
By that time my clothes and hair were absolutely drenched with sweat. I stood back, not looking for any gratitude from my father, but hoping for at least some acknowledgement that I’d done a good job. He didn’t even look at me on his way to climb up into the driving seat of the wagon, grumbling under his breath the whole way.
Serah came out of the house carrying a big bag I knew would be packed with plenty of food and changes of clothes to last him the journey. I knew better than to think there’d be anything for me in that bag. She handed it up to him, and the two just exchanged a stiff, stern-faced stare before she backed away and crossed her arms. Her cold eyes flicked to me, her face looking sharper and angrier than usual. Sometimes I got the feeling she blamed me for my own existence, or that she was jealous of any attention Ulric gave me that didn’t involve punishing me for something.
“Just going to stand there like an idiot?” Ulric barked at me suddenly.
My mouth opened, and no sound came out. I didn’t know what to say, or what he expected me to do.
He jerked his head, gesturing to the driver’s seat beside him.
My heart jumped. I still couldn’t move, much less speak. I was terrified of making the mistake of assuming he actually wanted me to go with him. I took a few steps, and Serah’s venomous glare stopped me dead in my tracks.
“Get over here, you dumb kid.” Ulric growled in a dangerous tone. “You’re wasting daylight.”
It was a leap of faith, to think I was invited on this trip. But I took it. I walked quickly past Serah with my head bowed low, avoiding meeting her eyes, and climbed up to sit on the driver’s seat beside my father. He didn’t wait until I was settled or even balanced to snap the reins. The wagon lurched into motion, and I almost fell over the seat.
We took off at as fast a trot as the old horse could manage, leaving Serah and the house in a swirling cloud of dust behind us. It started to sink in, then. I was going to Blybrig Academy. I was going to learn to make dragon saddles. Either that, or Ulric was going to drop me off at a prison camp on the way there.
My father waited until we were out of sight of the house to pull a wad of chewing tobacco from his pocket and cram it into his mouth. Serah hated it when he chewed that stuff, and even more when he spit it into her gardens. He didn’t say a word to me as we rattled down the road, and I couldn’t think of a good reason to try to talk to him, either.
When we passed the Crookin’s house, I leaned to look up the twisting dirt path that led to their house. I craned my neck, hoping to catch a glimpse of Katty helping her mother hang laundry, or feeding their chickens, so I could wave goodbye to her. She’d know just as soon as she saw me sitting in the wagon with my father that I was going to Blybrig. She’d be so happy, knowing we’d see each other there eventually. But I didn’t see her or her mother, and it made me slump back into my seat with disappointment. Maybe she’d figure it out, or maybe I could write her a letter once I got to Blybrig.
It took a long, exhausting, miserable week to get from Mithangol to Blybrig Academy. The only thing worse than being at home with my father was being alone with him. We didn’t talk. He didn’t say anything to me at all. There was always tension in the air, and it made it hard for me to feel safe. I was afraid to turn my back to him while we were out here, alone in the wild.
The road wound away from our little city, twisting through the high cliffs, and carving a steep path upwards through the Stonegap Mountains. The higher we went, the thinner the air got. It got dryer, too, and made my throat feel raw. My lips were chapped and peeling, but Ulric wouldn’t let me have any more than the small ration of water he’d planned out for us every day.
At night, we ate a little bit of dinner that consisted of flatbread and some dried meat, and then went straight to bed. Ulric had a bedroll, and he slept by the fire on the ground. I curled up with a blanket on the seat of the wagon, looking up at the stars in the cold night sky. Some nights, it was too cold to sleep at all, and I sat up by the fire on the ground, my teeth chattering and my toes numb, until morning.
That’s when I thought about my mom. When I was alone like that at night, when it was quiet, I always thought about her. I took out the necklace she’d given me when I was little. I kept it hidden under my tunic. I didn’t want anyone to see it, and no one except for Katty even knew that I had it. It was carved from white bone, engraved with designs and words in elven that I didn’t understand. It hung around my neck on an old leather cord, exactly where she’d put it the day she gave it to me. I rubbed it with my fingers while I remembered my mom. The memories I had of her voice, her face, and her smell were all beginning to fade. I was afraid that eventually I’d forget her completely.
I felt like I’d been dragged behind the wagon, rather than riding in it, all week when we finally reached Blybrig. I was tired, sore, hungry, and thirsty. Even Ulric was beginning to look pretty road-weary and miserable. We didn’t have much left in the way of supplies, and I was beginning to worry we might run out before we got to the academy.
Then all of a sudden, none of that mattered. As we crested one final, steep rise in the road through Stonegap Pass, I got my first look down into the valley hidden below.
They called it the Devil’s Cup because the land in the valley was so arid and dry. It was a small desert nestled into a crescent of mountains, cut off from the rest of the world except for Stonegap Pass—unless you could fly. The only small portion of the valley that wasn’t guarded by white-peaked mountains bordered the coastline and looked out to nothing but blue ocean. I could see the water, sparkling in the distance, and stretching out across the horizon beyond.
I saw it all, spread out before me so suddenly that it took my breath away. I couldn’t help but stand up to get a better look, able to see exactly how the road wound down the mountainside into the valley. It twisted across the parched earth, past thorny shrub
s and cacti, until it stopped before the only standing structure in the whole valley: Blybrig Academy.
Then I saw them. What I’d mistaken for a flock of birds circling far overhead weren’t birds at all. The nearer they came, the more aware I became of their size. They were huge, bigger than any animal I’d ever seen, with powerful wings stretched to the morning sun. Dragons were everywhere I looked, flying in V-shaped formations overhead in groups of two or more. The light danced off the gleaming armor of the knights riding on their backs. They soared like eagles, majestic and graceful, riding the wind that blew in from the ocean. They were perched on the high circular ramparts that enclosed the academy complex, and even from a distance, I could hear their bellowing calls.
We rattled down the road that led up to the only gate in and out of Blybrig. The walls were enormous, at least five stories tall, and made of stacked grey stones that looked like they had been mined right out of the mountains surrounding the valley. The enormous iron gates stood wide open, letting us into the world of the dragonriders—a place only a select few actually got to see.
As I understood it, its location was secret. Only dragonriders and the craftsmen who worked for them actually knew where this place was. That had seemed ridiculous to me before, but now that I’d been through that grueling, narrow, and dangerous path that was the only way through the mountains, I understood. If you didn’t already know where this place was, odds were you weren’t going to find it just wandering by around in the mountains.
Ulric drove the wagon through the gate and into the complex, passing students and knights on the way. All the buildings seemed to be set up around one central, massive circular structure. It had a covered domed roof, and the entire thing looked like one large cave carved right out of the rock.
“The breaking dome,” Ulric explained when he saw me staring at it. I was surprised he’d actually cared enough about my interest to say anything at all, but maybe this was part of the job. I needed to know where everything was so I could run errands for him.
“What’s it for?” I dared to try my luck to see how much he was willing to tell me.
Ulric just shrugged and made a grunting sound at first, leaning to spit some of his tobacco juice onto the ground. He’d been chewing it nearly nonstop since we’d left home. “Training.”
I stared at the massive structure as we passed it. It was hard not to feel intimidated by it. It looked like a giant stone turtle shell, with a rounded opening like a gaping maw. As our wagon rolled by it, I was almost certain I heard it growl.
Ulric pointed out the buildings the further we went into the complex. There were two dormitories, one meant for instructors and high-ranking riders, and another for students. They both looked the same on the outside, the same height and shape, with narrow windows. There was a separate place for academics, and a gymnasium for combat training.
One very long, especially strange-looking building was set at the back, directly behind the central dome. It looked like a dollhouse with one wall missing so that you could see all the rooms inside it. Extending from each of the ten levels were platforms made from iron beams laid out like latticework. I watched the dragons come in close to the building, flaring their wings to slow their speed, and stretching out their strong back legs to grip the platform with curled talons as they landed. It was like a stable for dragons, with each room being a separate stall for a dragon to nest in. Ulric said they called it the Roost.
We stopped at last outside of one of the two armory houses. One was set up especially for blacksmiths, with already established forges and plenty of room for the smiths to work fashioning and repairing armor. Its tall chimneys belched black smoke into the air, and I could smell the familiar scent of scorched metal. It reminded me of Katty’s house.
As soon as we found our workstation in the armory house meant for tackmasters, Ulric backed the wagon up to it, and we started to unload all the crates and rolls of leather. He put me to work opening the crates with a pry bar, telling me to set out his tools while he went to stable the horse.
Even here, in the desert valley of Devil’s Cup, it was still cool this early in the spring. But the air was so dry, and I was so tired already, it didn’t take me ten minutes to be drenched with sweat again. I tied my hair back to get it away from my face, not thinking about it until I heard someone say the word “halfbreed.”
Then I remembered. Tying my hair back like that exposed my pointed ears. They weren’t elongated and slender like a full blooded gray elf’s would have been, but their subtle points were definitely noticeable. And people were definitely beginning to notice.
There was a group of four older boys standing just outside Ulric’s workstation, and they were staring right at me. I didn’t know any of them, but I could tell they were new students right away. They weren’t wearing uniforms or armor yet, and they all looked seventeen. Naturally, they were all a good foot taller than I was, and I knew they were laughing at me even without looking up to make sure.
I tried to ignore them. Nothing good would happen if I said anything back, and I didn’t have much of an ego left to defend anyway. They could say what they wanted; I’d come here to work.
I was stacking the empty crates outside our workstation, making room for dragons to be brought inside like Ulric had told me to, when I felt someone pull my hair. Someone grabbed my ponytail, and yanked it hard enough to make me fall backwards. The empty crate landed squarely on my chest.
It knocked the breath right out of me, and I laid there for a few seconds looking up into the sky and the glare of the sun in a daze. I thought maybe I’d imagined it. Maybe I’d just tripped. But then a menacing face appeared over me. One of the guys who had been laughing at me earlier was leaning over, smirking and looking back to his friends for approval. For some reason bullies always needed validation that they were doing a good job. Or at least, it seemed that way to me.
“What are you doing here, scum?” He sneered down at me. “We don’t like traitors, you know.” I watched him disappear, and then a few seconds later, there was a boot in my face. He put the heel of his shoe on my forehead and started to grind it back and forth.
I hadn’t even thought about fighting back yet. I was just trying to figure out how to get the boot off my face and the crate off my chest. But suddenly both were gone, and I heard the group of older boys cursing and yelling.
Rolling over to cough and blink the dirt out of my eyes, I lifted my head to see a much larger, fully armored man holding the boy who’d been using me as his doormat by the ear. The knight was pinching the boy’s ear in his gauntlet-covered hand, making him scream in pain, before finally letting him go. Something about the knight was familiar. I couldn’t figure out what it was until he was standing over me, grabbing me by the arm and hauling me back to my feet.
“You attract a lot of attention, boy.” The knight’s voice was immediately familiar. It was the same one who had come to pick up his saddle from our house.
I opened my mouth to say something, and immediately forgot what it was. I hadn’t expected anyone to come to my rescue, least of all a knight. I remembered to at least be grateful. “Thank you, sir.”
He made an annoyed sound as he removed his white-crested helmet. Now I was certain it was the same knight from before. He looked down at me with his sea green eyes narrowed and scrutinizing. His dark hair was cut very short and beginning to turn gray around his temples. Even though his skin was weathered, there was still something wild and unpredictable in his eyes, which made it hard to place his age. Still, I couldn’t imagine him being any older than Ulric.
“You should keep a low profile,” he warned me. “Unless you intend on growing a spine in the near future.”
Couldn’t he see me? Sure, standing up to bullies and the other kids who gave me a hard time sounded good in theory, but I knew better. I had no chance of ever winning a fight like that. Better to let them kick me around some, use me as a doormat, and get away with no broken bo
nes, than get my arms cracked off just to prove a point.
“Save it, Sile. The kid’s a coward. Better that way. He’ll live longer if he keeps his mouth shut.” Ulric’s voice growled, surprising me as he strolled up behind us. Immediately, I went back to work moving crates.
The knight frowned at me, looking disappointed, and I tried not to notice. It made an urgent feeling twist in the pit of my stomach, so I turned my back to him while I worked and tried not to listen to anything else they said.
“Who is that?” I asked when the knight finally left to go back about his business.
Ulric was setting up sawhorses, and scowling at all the work I’d done like none of it was up to his standard. But I never saw him fix anything. He made another annoyed grunting sound in response to my question. “Sile Derrick,” he answered, and spat another mouthful of putrid tobacco juice on the ground. “Stay away from him. He should mind his own business, instead of telling me how to mind mine.”
We got the workshop ready just after sundown. It took a long time for me to drag out base molds and fill them with packed wax shavings from huge sacks I had to drag out of a storeroom. My arms were sore, and my stomach was growling so loudly I knew everyone could hear it. I’d never been so tired in all my life, but when Ulric glanced at me, I tried to look as composed and ready to work as I’d ever been.
“We start at dawn,” he told me, finally spitting out the wad of tobacco he’d been gnawing on into a trash barrel. “You sleep in here, and mind our stuff. Have the molds ready when I get here.”
Ulric left me standing in the workshop, wondering what I was supposed to eat or where I could sleep, as he disappeared into the complex. I was immediately afraid. After the sun had set, the air had gotten very cold, and the wind howled through the valley making an eerie, screaming sound.