Silver Batal and the Water Dragon Races

by K. D. Halbrook

  There, on that poster, was her face.

  WANTED: JEWELRY THIEF. REWARD OFFERED.

  Silver’s breath flew from her. Fortunately, her hair was still long, and it was a rough enough sketch that the resemblance wasn’t immediately obvious. But Silver was certain it was meant to be her. Sagittaria had seen Silver moments before. How had she spread the notices so quickly? All of a sudden, her presence in Calidia was more dangerous than ever. The thief notices would spread over the city soon enough.

  “No,” she said under her breath. “You’re the real thief, Sagittaria Wonder!”

  Silver melted backward, her head down. She used her peripheral vision to try to spot Brajon, but he stubbornly remained missing. There wasn’t time to track him down. She would have to go about her tasks and hope to run into him along the way. He couldn’t have gone far from the seawall.

  Silver pushed through the festival crowds in and out of the center of Calidia, hoping to get to the shops she needed before the flyers did. She bought a new scarf and wrapped it around the bottom half of her face. Dull, inconspicuous brown this time. And she ducked into a cosmetics shop to pick up a kohl pencil, rubbing it against the back of her hand. It left a dark, oily black mark.

  As Silver counted out the coins, she asked the shop owner, “Do you know where I can find a fibers shop?”

  The shopkeeper gave Silver directions, and she set off again, tucking the kohl pencil into her bag and keeping her head low. Occasionally, racers were walking their water dragons in town, drawing admiring crowds. Energy and anticipation were thick in the air. Silver wanted to be in those crowds, but she pressed on, hoping that people would be more interested in the water dragons than the notices on the walls. After all, didn’t thieves run rampant here? But like the man who had bought her father’s ring had said, guards did, too.

  Silver inhaled deeply. Food vendors were cooking festival breads stuffed with farmer cheese—some savory with a thick layer of herbs on top, and some sweet and drizzled with honey—for midmorning treats. Hunger and homesickness rained over her so hard Silver had to put her hand against a blue-and-white-tiled door to steady herself.

  She bought a round of bread and some fruit on her way to the fibers shop, eating quickly as she walked. People in Jaspaton sat down for their meals, but it seemed that here in Calidia, everyone enjoyed street food.

  When her eye caught a glimpse of another poster with her face, Silver broke into a jog until she reached the fibers shop. Upon entering, she was overwhelmed with all the types and colors of wool on the shelves.

  “What’s this?” she asked a stock boy. Her fingers ran across a pale-blue fabric as slinky and smooth as water.

  “Sea-crystal silk,” he said, swatting her juice-dotted hands away. “Don’t touch it. You’ll leave fingerprints.”

  “Sorry.” Silver could imagine Queen Imea sweeping through her palace in a gown made from the luscious sea-crystal silk. Someday, maybe she would be as famous and loved as Sagittaria Wonder and would need sea-crystal silk gowns for all her visits to the palace parties and fancy dinners. She went to the purchase counter.

  “I’d like thin wool yarn, please. In orange and white and brown. I’m in a hurry.”

  The boy behind the counter—a taller and older version of the boy stocking the shelves—pulled down several balls of yarn. The counter boy squinted at her, as though trying to make out her features under her scarf.

  “These will do.” Silver didn’t even inspect the yarn. She paid quickly, thanked the boy, and left.

  As Silver blended back into the crowd, she noticed that the streets in midcity were a bit quieter. Perhaps everyone was already down at the seawall to watch the preparation for the races. With several hours before the first races began, she needed to find a safe and quiet space. And she needed to find her cousin.

  “Why didn’t you just wait for me at the breakfast vendor?” Silver groaned out loud. Brajon was still nowhere to be seen, and they were running out of time. If only she could contact him just by thinking her thoughts at him.

  Her head shot up. “Maybe Hiyyan can help.”

  Silver tucked herself into a side street, pressed against a shaded wall, and closed her eyes to the streams of people flowing by. Hiyyan, can you hear me?

  Instantly, that warm, comforting feeling filled her. Despite her worry, she couldn’t keep back a smile. Her Aquinder, her bond.

  I’ve lost Brajon. Is there any way you can sniff him out?

  Silver knew it was unlikely—Hiyyan was still some distance from the city, and there were so many people. The water dragon’s responding emotion was full of doubt.

  Please try.

  It felt strange to be part of Hiyyan’s sensory sweep of the city. Sort of like riding a dune board with her eyes closed. The smells came to her in a dizzying tumble: clay and dirt, bread and sweets, body odor and perfumes, animals of all sorts, and, strongest of all, the sea. But even Hiyyan couldn’t find the unique scent that was Brajon.

  Silver gnawed her lip. She couldn’t leave her cousin lost in the city, but she couldn’t stay, either. She had a lot to get done before the races, and time wouldn’t stop while she searched for him—especially while people were searching for her. With one last glance around, she made up her mind.

  “I hope you think to come back to the cave entrance, Brajon,” she whispered before pushing off the wall and away from the rings of midcity.

  The roads zigzagged into the outer rings. Silver memorized the buildings she passed so that she could easily find her way back again.

  “Tailor,” she murmured. “Sweetshop. Kite vendor.” She couldn’t keep herself from stopping to marvel at the kites. They were as tall as she was. Intricate cuts in the paper gave them a lacy look.

  “Dragon kites for the celebrations,” the vendor said merrily.

  She ducked her head and ran on. It had taken her and Brajon an entire day to cross the city when they’d arrived, but Silver didn’t have that long.

  A boy was just finishing unloading a cart of fruit at a shop. He climbed up on his cycling contraption and put his feet on the pedals, ready to head off again.

  “Wait,” Silver called. “Are you going back out to the orchards?”

  “I am. Hopefully for my last delivery. I want to get down to the seawall!”

  “Can I ride with you? I can pay.”

  The boy gave a sideways grin. “Climb in. You don’t have to pay. I like the idea of carting a pretty girl around. It’ll make my friends jealous.”

  Silver blinked, then shook her head. A pretty girl? He was just saying that. Probably the type to flirt with anyone, if it meant he could get his way. Just like Brajon.

  Silver waved off his remark and climbed in the back as the boy braced himself and pushed. They flew through the city roads, swerving so hard that Silver gripped the sides of the cart until her knuckles were white. They passed a green-and-white-speckled dragon, which lunged toward them snarling, its trainers holding its chains as tightly as they could.

  The boy laughed, but Silver’s stomach lurched with a combination of pity for the imprisoned Hop-Slawn and motion sickness. How could she ride Hiyyan through the air one day, soaring up and down and side to side and even spinning upside down without a problem, when one ride in a cart almost made her lose her breakfast?

  The boy pedaled all the way to the outer circle of the city and beyond. He stopped at a smattering of low clay buildings. Silver hopped out.

  “Are you sure I can’t pay you for the ride?” she said.

  “No, but—”

  The boy’s eyes narrowed, and in a flash like lightning, Silver realized her scarf had fallen down around her neck.

  Silver didn’t wait around for the boy to finish what he wanted to say. She hastily pulled up the fabric and ran for the trees.

  “I thought so!” he yelled. “You’re the thief!” The boy grabbed for her, but Silver twisted away from his reaching fingers and kept running.

  THIRTY-ONE

  The
orchards felt like a different world. So quiet without all the noise of thousands of people moving and yelling. Just her swift footfalls, and the boy breathing down her neck. Silver was quick and nimble, but the boy, with his long stride, was just as swift, keeping up easily.

  Keep running, keep runn—oof!

  The boy tackled Silver to the ground. He sat on her back, pinning her down.

  “Get off me!”

  The boy laughed. He wrenched away Silver’s bag and dumped the contents on the ground.

  “Useless, useless,” he muttered. Silver saw her balls of yarn and kohl pencil roll away. “Aha!”

  Although Silver was still pressed to the ground, a jingling sound told Silver the boy had found her money and the jewelry. The boy shifted, and then a piece of paper was shoved in Silver’s face.

  “See that? It says ‘reward.’ I wonder if the queen’s reward is worth as much as these jewels. Tell me what they’re worth, and I’ll think about letting you go.”

  Silver spat at the sketch of her face.

  “Have it your way. I’ll keep both.”

  He hauled Silver to her feet. She struggled, but he was much bigger than she was—even taller than Brajon—and he had a firm grip. She leaned back to spit in his smug face, too, but in one surprising movement, he spun her so her back was to his front and pinned her arms together, then unwound her scarf from her neck.

  “Let me go!” The more she struggled, the more her arms screamed with pain, until she was certain the bones were about to snap. The boy dragged her backward, and even though Silver dug her heels into the soft orchard soil, he succeeded in slamming her to the ground and against a tree. The boy wrestled her wrists around the trunk and knotted them together with her scarf.

  He stood before her, admiring his handiwork.

  Silver glared. “You don’t know what you’re doing. I’m not a thief. You are. Those jewels belong to my family.”

  “Wrong. They belong to me. And soon you’ll belong to the queen. Don’t go anywhere.” With that, the boy sprinted back in the direction of his cart.

  Silver struggled against the knots and banged her head against the tree in frustration. She could almost hear Sagittaria Wonder’s bitter laughter ringing through the orchard. You’re nothing but a talentless child. How many times had Silver proved her right?

  A heavier scent of the desert filled her nose, with the salty sea air far back behind her. Silver stopped struggling against her bonds and fought back tears. Even though she and Brajon had been in Calidia only one day and one night, she missed the simplicity of the desert. What had she gotten herself into? She’d come here to rescue Kirja, only to get caught herself.

  Silver reached her mind to Hiyyan’s again, still waiting at the river cave. It was easy to make a connection with him, and as soon as she did, she felt his burst of excitement. He knew how close she was. A mad, low giggle bubbled up in her throat despite everything.

  Hello, she said in her mind. I have failed Kirja. And I’m a bit tied up at the moment.

  She conjured up an image of her bound hands and sent it toward Hiyyan. He responded with alarm, then an image of a dragon talon slicing neatly through the bonds.

  I don’t have one of those! She sensed Hiyyan rustle and bit back a wave of panic. No, don’t come here! Sagittaria might be on her way, and I couldn’t bear if she found out about you, too.

  Silver looked around. Her bag’s contents were strewn everywhere. Where one ball of yarn was half unwound, she saw the tip of her dagger sticking out. The boy hadn’t noticed it when he’d tossed the yarn aside. If she could just reach it …

  She wriggled and stretched her toes as far as she could. It was close. More maneuvering bought her another inch.

  Something in the soil shuffled, and Silver froze. A desert scorpion peered out of its hiding place to see what was disturbing its home. But not just any scorpion: a Flying Black-Eyed Scorpion. They attacked as fast as lightning and, since they only had one sting in them, they flew straight for their adversary’s eyes. The Flying Black-Eyeds weren’t named for their own eye color, but how they permanently blinded whomever they stung.

  Silver breathed slowly and silently, facing off with the scorpion in a game of Don’t Move.

  The scorpion raised its tail, glistening black. Sweat dripped down Silver’s palms to her fingers, watering the orchard tree. Her dagger was just to the right of the scorpion.

  Silver bit back a whimper, then steeled herself. There was only one way of dealing with an attacking Black-Eyed Scorpion: Get it to sting anywhere but the eyes.

  With her eyes closed, she took in a deep breath. Then she flung her left foot out.

  The pain as the scorpion sank its stinger into her foot was dazzling. Silver yelped and let a single sob escape, but then she bit her lip against the building throbs in her foot and opened her eyes. She knew it would hurt but the damage would pass. The scorpion, stinger lost, skittered away.

  Her right foot reached for the trailing yarn, dragging it closer inch by inch. When it was close enough, Silver twisted her body around the tree trunk. Her fingers grabbed the dagger and after a few moments of scrabbling, she was able to unsheathe it and work the blade haphazardly through her scarf.

  Silver got to her feet and limped in a circle, collecting the rest of her things before the horrible boy came back.

  “Who knew I’d go through so many scarves,” she muttered.

  The sound of a group approaching in the distance reached her. Silver dragged herself toward the outer road and her Aquinder. She still wasn’t completely sure how their mental communication was working, especially when singing seemed to be the natural water dragon language, but it felt right. Silver continued thinking her words as though she were speaking to Hiyyan, perhaps rubbing his furry belly. She needed to keep her mind off her aching foot.

  It’ll be our first race soon. We’re registered and everything. Isn’t that amazing? You and me, cutting through the water, becoming the greatest racers of all time. Well, maybe not this first race, but it will happen! It’s my dream coming true. Only two races, and when we win them both, I’ll be able to ask Queen Imea for your mother back.

  Silver waited for some kind of response. Not words, but a feeling. Something that told her he either approved or rejected her ideas.

  The feeling never came.

  Instead, Hiyyan did.

  THIRTY-TWO

  When Silver saw the deep blue of his body against the pale-blue sky, she rushed forward, meeting him just on the other side of the road into Calidia.

  Hiyyan landed, knocking Silver off her feet, and wiggled on the ground with glee, obviously happy that they were together again. Silver doubled over, her laughter and sobs combining until her belly ached.

  Hiyyan paused, his back on the ground, his feet in the air, and his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth in a dopey grin.

  “I’m happy to see you, too,” Silver said, wrapping her arms around his neck and trying to ignore the throbbing pain in her foot. “Hopefully, after this, we won’t have to be separated ever again.” She dug her hands into Hiyyan’s soft mane and laid her head on his side, then started walking to the hole in the ground.

  “But now I have to go back into the cave to get the camouin,” she said. “And you’ll need to keep a lookout—or a listen-out—for anyone coming. There are people looking for me, and if they get close, we have to run. Unless it’s Brajon.”

  An image of Brajon skulking around the cave came to her mind, and Silver nodded. “Right. He needs to come back and meet us here.”

  “Hugggrrr.” Hiyyan’s low grumblings were tinged with frustration.

  Silver carefully lowered herself partway into the cave opening. Her swollen foot thrummed inside her boot, so she took it off to relieve the pressure. She tiptoed to the remains of the white cave beast. In the light of the larger opening, the pile of bones seemed less threatening than before. Still, Silver moved slowly, her heart racing as though expecting it to come back to life and at
tack her. But as she scooped camouin off the bones, the creature didn’t move.

  “There’s much less here than I thought there would be,” Silver said, tucking the small amount in her bag. She glanced at Hiyyan’s wings and did some mental calculations.

  It had to be enough. There was no going back now.

  She returned to the entrance and sat. Hiyyan settled in next to her, ears perked. Every few seconds, he turned them, as though he were scanning the whole desert for sounds. Silver knew that if she focused on Hiyyan, she could probably hear what he was hearing, too, but she had other things to focus on.

  She pulled the yarn from her bag. An image of a desert fox danced in her mind. She tried to turn the animal’s coloration into a pattern her fingers could follow. She began with the brown wool, weaving the thin yarn around and between her hook and fingers, just as Nebekker had taught her. It took a few tries of weaving, then unraveling, then trying again, but eventually she figured out how to adapt the scale pattern with her own image of a desert fox.

  Once that was figured out, her fingers flew so fast they were a blur. She added the orange wool, then the white. Back to the orange, then to the brown. She fashioned the ears separately, then attached them to the top of the mask, using her dagger to cut the ends of the yarn. When she was finished, she started on Hiyyan’s disguise.

  Silver worked the wool and let her mind drift into a scene. She and her Aquinder, being showered with medals and gold and adoration. Walking the halls of the Calidian palace, Sagittaria Wonder relegated to the corners. Silver smirked at the idea.

  “We’ll be wearing sea-crystal silk, too,” she said to Hiyyan absently.

  And still, she worked the wool until it was a large piece of fabric. The sun was high in the sky, indicating midday.

  “Let’s give this a try,” Silver said. She draped the wool over Hiyyan’s back. “Hold still,” she said. But when she attempted to tuck his wings under, the water dragon balked.