Silver Batal and the Water Dragon Races

by K. D. Halbrook

  “You’re not the first one to tell me that,” Silver said.

  “Let me see your winnings.” Mele held out her hand, and Silver dropped the purse in the girl’s palm. Mele peeked inside, then nodded in satisfaction. “There’s more than enough here to make us all presentable to Queen Imea.”

  “All?”

  “I’ve wanted to see the inside of the palace since I came to Calidia. You wouldn’t believe the stories I’ve heard! Sweeping granite arches, shimmering gold walls, tile ceilings. And,” she said, her eyes sparkling, “I’ve heard streams run through every part of the palace, where the dragons can swim. There’s no way I’m letting you go without me!”

  “Can I dress in crystal-sea silk?”

  Mele puffed out her cheeks. “You didn’t win that much money.”

  “You’re not going to wear the desert-fox mask, are you?” Brajon said.

  Silver nodded. “I have to. I don’t completely understand … I feel certain they know who I am! But until I’m sure, I can’t give my identity away until the very last moment. Sagittaria might hide Kirja somewhere that we could never find her.”

  “Your soggy mask would look ridiculous with a gown. Trust me to sort it out,” Mele said.

  Silver tugged the ends of her ill-cropped hair. She nodded. “Make us worthy of the queen’s audience, Mele, and in return, I’ll bring you both as my squires.”

  Mele whooped and Brajon groaned at the same time.

  Mele ducked away. Silver paced the little alleyway room, her hands clammy. She knew she was attempting the impossible.

  But she couldn’t back out now.

  The cousins took turns cleaning up in the washbasin, and by the time they were both scrubbed, Mele had returned, her hands full of boxes. She set them on the ground and opened the first. Inside, a filmy orange gown, heavily beaded, winked at her. It slid over Silver’s skin like water.

  “The closest I could get to crystal-sea silk on our budget,” Mele said.

  In a smaller box, a matching veil was nestled in delicate paper, along with many strands of jewelry to be draped over Silver’s hair and down her face. Silver touched the coppery metals and semiprecious stones and thought of her father. These items were simpler than anything Rami Batal would make—he would likely think them beneath him—but Silver still felt close to home as Mele attached the veil and jewels.

  The last time she’d worn metals and gems like this, she’d felt ashamed, first by the task, and then by Sagittaria Wonder. Now, she would stand before her idol again, but this time, she would meet her triumphantly, winner to winner. Instinctively, her chin lifted.

  Mele appraised her, then let out a short breath. “You look regal,” she said. “I almost believe you can actually take on Queen Imea.”

  “Believe it, because I have to,” Silver whispered.

  But if Silver looked different in her Winners’ Audience attire, it paled in comparison to the change that came over Mele once she stepped into her emerald-green gown and simple veil. It was as though a light, as subtle and warm as a spring desert sunrise, glowed from within her. Her beauty—and she was already very beautiful, with her wide eyes, straight nose, and thick hair—became the stuff of desert lore. Silver wondered if this inner light, this transformation, was what the ancient mystics looked for when they searched the entire nation for a new queen.

  “You scrub off nicely,” Brajon said, entering the room and looking at Mele with frank admiration. He turned to his cousin. “And you look about right for a desert fox. How about me?” Brajon put his arms out and turned in a slow circle. His blue tunic was shot through with strands of silver that sparkled as he moved.

  “Very nice,” Mele said.

  “I’ve seen beetles with more polish,” Silver teased. “But it’ll have to do. Hopefully, no one will throw you out of the palace.”

  Brajon clapped his hands. “Happy to have your approval, cousin.”

  Silver took a deep breath and pulled her shoulders back. Out the tiny window, twilight had settled over Calidia. “To the queen.”

  FORTY-THREE

  If Silver had thought she could sneak into the palace, quietly ask Queen Imea for Kirja back, then fly away with no one taking notice, she was mistaken.

  She, Brajon, and Mele made their way down the path toward the palace entrance. Calidian lanterns lit the way, and on either side of them, hundreds of revelers were tossing orange and pink flower petals, waving sparklers, cheering, and even flying paper dragon kites high overhead. The noise was deafening, and Silver was glad the veil hid her shock and uneasiness. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the friendly guard in the throngs. Silver almost went to him to say hello, but she remembered that he thought she was a lowly squire. She shrank back, sad to be embroiled in so many lies. She couldn’t wait for when she could just be Silver Batal again.

  Silver snuck a look at Brajon and Mele, and saw that they were both as speechless as she was.

  “Stand tall. Don’t slump.” A gentle hand took her elbow. Ferdi’s warm eyes gazed down at Silver as he joined the group.

  “What are you doing here? You—”

  “Lost my race to an upstart with a mythical dragon?” The island boy’s eyes danced in the lantern light, and he gave her a crooked grin. His long white brocade jacket glimmered over gold-threaded leggings. He looked like he belonged in a royal palace. “Fortunately, I didn’t need to win to get an invitation tonight.”

  Silver thought back to his shared laugh with Sagittaria Wonder. “Because you’re Sagittaria’s friend? Then why should I trust you?”

  “Because I haven’t turned you over to the guards?” Ferdi made an exasperated sound. “You should be glad I’m here. I have chaos to create, remember?” He nodded at the crowds. “You don’t have to do much to create chaos, though. Look at all those people whispering. They’re desperate to know who the girl is behind the mysterious disguise.”

  “They’ll be disappointed to discover she’s a failed ele-jeweler from a nowhere city out in the scrubbiest corner of the desert.”

  “Or a great water dragon racing champion. Hmm…” Ferdi looked over Silver’s head. “Am I walking with the wrong person? I’ve never heard Desert Fox say anything that wasn’t a grand boast.”

  Silver surprised herself by laughing. She wasn’t sure why he was being so mysterious, but he had, after all, been instrumental in helping her win the race. She didn’t know how she would have gotten past the whirlpool without him.

  “It’s all just a little overwhelming,” she said.

  “If you think this is something, look there.” Ferdi pointed straight ahead.

  The foursome crossed a short white marble bridge over a stream and walked under a thick arch striped with gold. As the palace entrance opened up before them, Silver’s breath caught in her throat.

  Silver’s and Mele’s slippers softly shushed over elaborate stone murals inlaid in the floor, depicting desert scenes. Ferdi’s and Brajon’s boots clicked on polished tile, each featuring a tiny painted water dragon. More tiles lined the walls—millions of colorful, glittering squares as small as the tip of a thumb—and Silver realized that the tiles weren’t clay; they were precious stones. Swirls of lapis depicted the waves of the sea, while carnelian and agate formed the dunes of the desert. There were gardens whose flower petals were made of amethyst and garnet, and panels of well-known desert motifs separating each scene.

  The ceilings soared overhead, rising and dipping in domes and arches, supported by intricate, lacy metalwork so fine Silver found herself growing dizzy as she tried to see it.

  They passed under another archway and entered a plaza. Three sides of the square were bordered with waterways, while an orchard of miniature fruit trees and carved stone benches created a lush centerpiece. This time, when Silver looked up, it was the Calidian stars that winked back at her. People paused here, milling about with glasses of cordial and picking delicate pastries and finger foods off the trays that were being passed around by servers in all white.
Music drifted over from some corner of the courtyard, while tiny gemstone lanterns, in the style of Jaspaton, cast a muted, colorful glow over everything.

  “Don’t stop now,” Ferdi said. “The throne room is through there.”

  “You know a lot about this place,” Brajon said, busy filling his hands with flaky meat pies and crunchy crystalized nuts. Mele held a glass of cordial, which she sipped delicately, but Silver’s stomach was so knotted she couldn’t imagine eating or drinking.

  “I make sure I always know my way around,” Ferdi said. “Lucky for you, that means I can help.”

  A blast of brass instruments cut through the festivities. Talking died down as people turned to the throne room entrance. A series of guards in white came through, two by two, then split to create a walkway. Then the king regent appeared, paused on the steps that led from the throne room down to the courtyard, and fell to one knee.

  “Queen Imea,” Silver whispered. She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye, near the throne room entrance. Lingering in the shadows, a figure in all black watched Silver. Sagittaria Wonder.

  Silver nudged Ferdi with her shoulder. “She knows I’m here.”

  “The queen?” He followed Silver’s gaze. “Ah, the racing champion. I’ll take care of her.”

  But before Ferdi could cross the room, the queen made her entrance. She was as lovely and composed as Silver remembered, but instead of wearing a traveling gown, Queen Imea was wrapped in layers and layers of fine, cream-colored silks, beaded with precious stones, and weighted down with gold and silver adornments worked so fine they looked like spun sugar.

  “Good evening,” the queen said. “And welcome to all guests, in particular my most honored guests: my race winners. Our long tradition of sending the very best of the desert to the Island Nations Spring Festival has been enhanced this year.” Queen Imea’s gaze swept the room, falling on Silver.

  Silver’s blood raced. What did she mean by enhanced? Nebekker’s pendant flared to life and warmed against her skin. Silver quickly placed her hand over it. Could the queen see the glow of it under her gown?

  Queen Imea shifted her eyes, then beamed as she scanned the room. “Enhanced by what I believe is the strongest and most talented field of racers we have ever sent to the islands. I feel—I know—that the Desert Nations will be victorious this year and claim the title of the best water dragon racer in the world!”

  As the queen threw her glittering arms in the air, cheers erupted from the crowd.

  “See you later,” Ferdi whispered, and he slipped away in the commotion. Silver watched him thread through the fabric of the attendees smoothly until, finally, he arrived at Sagittaria’s side. He spoke to her, and they both laughed.

  Suspicion grew in Silver’s belly again. Was Ferdi part of some plan to ambush her? No, he had proven himself her friend. It was only nerves telling her otherwise. Still, she moved closer to her cousin as the air in the plaza grew thick.

  “Which racer will lead the desert to glory? I’m so enthralled with the mystery that I’ve asked a friend to attend the Winners’ Audiences, too,” Queen Imea said. “Arkilah will read the stars, and perhaps that cosmos will reveal great secrets to us!”

  “Arkilah?” Silver and Brajon said at the same time.

  This time, when Queen Imea threw out her arms, it was to draw all attention to a woman in the crowd, rising to stand from a bench behind a citrus tree in the center of the courtyard.

  The woman was about Silver’s mother’s age and, compared to everyone else in the room, should have been easy to notice. Instead of a glittering gown, she wore layers of roughly hewn nomadic linen, topped with a variety of belts and straps holding an even greater assortment of pouches, bottles, crystals, and artifacts. But what was most intriguing about Arkilah were the dark lines running all over her exposed skin, from fingertips to the top of her shaved head. She was completely tattooed with constellations of the ancient gods.

  The cousins peeled their eyes away from the fascinating nomadic woman and looked pointedly at Mele, whose eyes were wider than ever over the brim of her glass.

  “I thought she was dead,” Silver whispered.

  “I didn’t know,” Mele said. “My sources aren’t perfect. She disappeared ages ago.”

  “Well, the more allies, the better,” Brajon said, pushing his cousin toward the citrus trees. “Come on, Silver. Go make a new friend.”

  FORTY-FOUR

  Even though beads of sweat had gathered under her jeweled headpiece, Silver walked forward with her head held high. Here was her chance to get Kirja and get out of the palace without revealing her identity.

  The peridot Jaspatonian-style lantern that hung just to the left of Arkilah’s head cast a strange green glow over her face. When Arkilah glanced down, Silver saw that even her eyelids were marked with lines and stars. Silver finally reached the stone bench, where the nomadic woman was once again sitting, and perched on the very edge. Arkilah was stiff, making neither word nor motion of welcome.

  Silver cleared her throat. “Nebekker sent me,” she whispered. Nebekker, who would be happy to hear her friend was alive. Nebekker, who was waiting, frail and weak, for Silver to return with Kirja.

  “She said you could help me find”—here, Silver’s voice dipped even lower, and she flashed Nebekker’s pendant briefly before tucking it securely away again—“Kirja.”

  Arkilah didn’t answer, but a breeze picked up and rattled two of the tiny vials hanging from one of her sashes. She fixed Silver with a look that didn’t betray any emotion. Not recognition or surprise or confusion.

  “Nebekker said you were a friend of … water dragons. I don’t know why or how, but you’re supposed to help me,” Silver said as she drew closer.

  When Arkilah stayed silent, Silver snuck a quick look around the room. She couldn’t see the queen on the other side of the citrus trees, but she spotted Ferdi, still plying Sagittaria Wonder with tales of some sort, despite the growing impatience on the racing champion’s face. But even if Sagittaria was distracted, other people were watching Silver and Arkilah curiously. Silver needed to hurry.

  “Is it true you can tell the future?” she blurted in a desperate attempt.

  This, finally, got a reaction out of Arkilah.

  “If I could, I would have seen you coming,” she said. Her voice was as gravelly as the ground surrounding Jaspaton and thick with a familiar deep-desert accent. “Desert Fox. Everyone wants to know the answers to the great mystery of who you are and where you came from. Not to mention what breed of dragon you’re racing.”

  “You are a mystic,” Silver breathed.

  Arkilah scoffed. “Queen Imea thinks I know things because of some divine power of interpretation. But I know things because I spend my life studying … searching for answers. And there are many things I still want to know. Like how can Nebekker think that I would help you when she left me alone to die in a frozen wasteland so many years ago?”

  Silver’s eyes widened. Nebekker did what? It didn’t seem possible Nebekker could harm anyone in that way.

  “Ah,” Arkilah said. “So that old crone didn’t tell you. You should be questioning your friendship with her. Never trust people, Desert Fox. Unfettered truth is the only thing of any worth. And I believe you can lead me to some new truths, just as I led Sagittaria Wonder to Nebekker.”

  “So you were the one who told her?” Silver cried, her face flushing with anger.

  “Who do you think showed Sagittaria Wonder the scale pattern? Nebekker always guarded her work, and for good reason, but she never knew how closely I watched her and learned her particular skills. This was all before she betrayed me.”

  “So you betrayed her in return,” Silver said through gritted teeth.

  Arkilah shrugged. “I anticipate the chance to study a water dragon bond from its near inception.”

  The nomadic woman rose, her baubles and artifacts clinking, and disappeared on the other side of the fruit trees. Silver stared after Ar
kilah, her pulse racing. From its near inception. Did the woman mean her and Hiyyan?

  Silver rushed back to where Brajon and Mele were waiting.

  “What did she say?” Brajon asked. “Is she going to help us?”

  Silver shook her head. “She’s not the person we thought she would be. She said Nebekker…” Silver swallowed thickly. Nebekker had shown she would do almost anything to protect Kirja. But leave someone to die? “They’re not friends anymore.”

  “What are we supposed to do now?” Brajon groaned.

  “What we always planned on doing. We have to go through with the Winners’ Audience. I have to get Kirja back on my own.” Arkilah’s words echoed in her head. “And then we have to get out of here.”

  “Easier said than done, cousin.” Brajon drew his brows together. “Look around.”

  Silver glanced at the walls of the room. The number of guards backed against the tiles seemed to have grown exponentially in the last few minutes. But they weren’t the only reason chills were crawling up Silver’s spine. It seemed the entire room had its eyes on her. The crowd had formed a long circle around Silver and the entrance to the throne room.

  “I told Brajon we should get out of here now,” Mele said. “But he refused.”

  “You’re free to go,” Brajon countered crossly. “Aren’t you just here to gawk?”

  “Enough! It’s not safe,” Silver said. “Mele, they’ve seen you with us. I don’t want you walking out of here alone.”

  “I knew I should’ve minded my own business,” Mele said, crossing her arms over her chest.

  The energy shifted as everyone turned to watch Queen Imea slowly climbing the steps into the throne room and disappearing inside with a flourish of silks. Arkilah followed, but she paused at the top of the steps and faced the crowd.

  “Our five winning racers are now invited to their audience with the queen,” she said. “May your desire be pure, and your favor granted.”

  Sagittaria Wonder strode up the steps like it was second nature, followed by the rider of the Shorsa from Silver’s first race.