by Susan Faw
Trainer Jade walked amongst the young women, talking to them about their dragons, introducing them to their likes and dislikes, sometimes corrected by the Dragonmerger who knew them even better than she did.
She paused beside Beatrice, daughter of Fjord, who was caressing the brow of her white-eyed dragon, a male named Goshen, a huge grin on her face.
“All dragons have two eyelids. This allows them to see while in toxic environments like sandstorms or sulphur blasts in volcanoes and still protect their eyes. Just because their eye appears to be closed, never assume it is the case. There is a saying amongst the Djinn, ‘A sleeping dragon is a twitching cat ready to pounce.’” Goshen’s eye snapped open, and Beatrice jumped back, startled, to see that he was staring right at her. She could see herself reflected in its starry-eyed gaze.
They are very small, thought the dragon Garnet, who peered at Shreya much as he would a tasty morsel. She is hardly big enough for a snack. Spessa, her Djinn, laughed out loud, and Shreya stared at him, offended.
“Garnet says you are too small to make a decent meal.”
Shreya eyed the dragon and said, “Be careful what you wish for. The greatest poison is often tasteless and odorless.” Garnet snorted, and two smoke rings drifted from her nostrils. “Is she laughing?” asked Shreya.
“Yes,” chuckled Spessa. Shreya smiled. “Good. We will get along, just fine.” She patted Garnet’s nose, scratching a bump on the lumpy surface.
“When do we get to fly?”
“Not for a long time yet, youngling. There is much to learn.” Disappointed, Shreya’s eyes slid to the other young women, and she grinned. “They look scared. I am not scared. Fear is for the weak.”
“Fear is not a weakness. Fear can keep you alive. Control of your fear is what is needed. You will learn this. First you must know fear before you can control it. You will learn to be afraid before your training is complete.” Spessa said in a flat voice, devoid of emotion. Shreya started at him and the bravado faded from her face. She swallowed slowly and spoke no more.
Chapter 13
Lesson Plans
THE YOUNG WOMEN SPENT the better part of the day with the dragons, making introductions, learning how to identify the different breeds, how to define their strengths and weaknesses (the dragons admitted to none of the latter). It didn’t take long for the young women to realize that the Djinn could speak to the dragons.
“How do you do that?” said Jannah, amazed. Her triad included a fierce golden-eyed dragon named Topaz and his Djinn, Titan.
“It is a magical gift, inherent in our race, but not given to all. Not all Djinn can bond with a dragon’s mind, so we are a rare group. The bonding is performed during a special ceremony.”
“Can we learn to do it?”
“No. Not as humans.” On that cryptic note, he turned away and would speak of it no more.
They worked with the dragons until late in the afternoon when the setting sun spilled through the opening to the outside world, drilling through the dim interior and splashing up against the far wall. Phosphorescent rock absorbed the light and began to glow with a mellow light soaking up the last rays of the first day. The gong sounded ending the lesson, and the young women wearily trudged up to their rooms to wash and report to dinner. Fresh air, hot food, and a moment to rest had heads nodding over dinner. Before dark had fully descended, they were sent to their beds and were asleep before the lights were turned out.
Once the young women were retired, the headmistress called a meeting of the few teachers to return, along with the Djinn, to debrief and go over the next day’s plans.
Ten Djinn and five white-haired teachers of an age to match the headmistress sat around the low wooden table in squashy armchairs, mugs of fragrant tea scenting the air. Flames roared in the fireplace of the comfortable sitting room, chasing off the chill of night’s descent. In Gaia, white hair might be a sign of age, but all of the teachers were in fact quite young. The magic of the bonding with Djinn and dragon had a side effect of elongating their lives. The only bodily aspect that was not slowed by the bonding was hair colour. No one quite knew why, but within a couple years of being bonded every triad bonded human’s hair turned a glorious white. They could will their hair any colour while bonded, as part of the shared magic, but it would naturally revert to white when the illusion was dropped.
The scant number of teachers was a concern for Madame Cherise. It was a pathetic showing for what had been the pinnacle of schools when magic reigned supreme.
She stood up to address her companions. “Thank you for answering the call, my friends. We lost too many fine young teachers during the Great Purge. I’d like to offer a toast to missing friends.” She raised her cup of tea and toasted the ghosts of her memories.
The other teachers followed suit with a murmured, “Missing friends!”
Madame Cherise inhaled the fragrance of the tea, took a sip, then put her mug down.
“Well? What do you think of their first real day of full training? Let me hear your impressions.”
Master Conteur cleared his throat and rose to address the assemblage, smoothing his tunic over his rounded belly. “As you are aware, I have returned after a very long sojourn amongst the admirable Djinn,” he rumbled. “Time would have long ago taken me to be reunited with my ancestors were it not for the magic of this world. It has seen fit to preserve my existence, and I am once again joyous to return to service in the capacity of Professor of Comparative Histories. I have added greatly to my knowledge during my reclusion among the honourable Djinn with their robust libraries. It is my eternal pleasure to be amongst your august company once again.”
The other teachers stared at him. The Professor of Battle Techniques and Subterfuge, Mistress Espion said, “Welcome back. In the time that you took to complete that introduction, I could have killed you ten times over.”
The others laughed, and Master Conteur grimaced, offended. Mistress Espion sat at the edge of her chair, muscles tensed, yet relaxed. She was dressed in shades of grey that made her fade into the stone wall behind her. She gave off an aura of a mountain lion, tensing to pounce on unsuspecting prey. All that was missing was the twitching tail. “The younglings are too young. They may have matured physically during the flight to Jintessa, but it takes time for the mind to catch up.” Madame Cherise opened her mouth to retort, but Madame Espion ignored her. “I know, the trip should also speed up their ability to learn, but they are teenagers. Have you ever had teenagers? Teenagers are awkward at best, and inconsistent in their studies. And you would have me train them over the next year so that they can take on the strength of the emperor and his wizards?” she said with a collective glance at the assembled teachers. “This school was designed for students who have reached the age of maturity, not fumbling teens barely turned sixteen and that by our aging of them. Why, the eldest is hardly eighteen. These children are not ready.”
“We already discussed this, Espion. It is true that they have arrived earlier than planned, but the danger was too great. We could no longer hide them. We would have brought the young men too, but there were not enough dragons to send all at once. And as we learned in the early years, it’s not the strength of the dragon that limits its ability to carry more people, but the journey across the sea. The Dragonmerger can only induce a magical sleep strong enough for one person, not more. To have attempted to bring the young men at the same time was to risk killing them both. The eggs which were stolen were our plan B to retrieve the young men. I had hoped that the emperor would not make the connection of the hearts. I was wrong,” said the headmistress. She shook her head sadly. “The emperor has moved fast, tracking down the male heart bearers. We must be wary. I believe he intends to recruit them for his own purposes, to defend against any action we may take.” Madame Cherise grimaced into her tea, the taste suddenly bitter on her tongue. “We must hope that the young men can be turned back to the true path and that they will respond with their hearts rather than their brain-washed
minds when the time comes. Madame Espion, we must train these young women to be every bit as much of a warrior as the male heart bearers. Young wizards are nothing to sneeze at. By the time we are ready, they will be men in their prime, and extremely dangerous.”
“These young women cannot even get onto the back of a dragon, let alone fight from one. And you would have me teach these babes to kill?”
“They must first be taught to survive. That is a necessary skill for any witch or wizard, seeing as our kind is hunted. Surely you can focus on those skills until these ‘babes’ grow up? Teach the subtleties of stealth. When the time comes, the other will be a natural extension.”
“I, for one, find them an engaging group,” said the last teacher. Master Maître, dressed in a long black coat and pants over a pristine white shirt with lace on the cuffs, was the Cultural and Government Affairs teacher and believed in refinement at every juncture. Civilized to a fault, his instruction guided the students through the intrigues of government politics and factions with a dash of etiquette for good measure. His favourite quotation, which all his students memorized before leaving his class, was “What can be brought down from within does not require a sword.”
“Engaging doesn’t get the job done,” said Espion. “These women are the last hope for the restoration of magic to the world and the end of magical persecution. We must succeed. Anything short of that will mean true disaster and the end of our race. We will be culled from existence.”
“Well, if I remember history correctly—and when haven’t I?—the application of brute force has had drastic consequences with Djinn slaughtered for their inherent abilities. We are fortunate they even considered working with us again. Were it not for the stolen dragon eggs, I believe they would have turned us down, rather than remind the world of their existence.” Master Conteur opened his mouth to continue, warming to the subject. “In fact, during the Great Purge, the…”
“What needs to be done will be done,” interrupted Madame Cherise before he could get a full head of steam built. “In the meantime, we are who are left to train these young women.”
“Where are the male heart bearers?” said Master Maître. “Surely we should go after them?”
“They have passed beyond my sight. I believe they have been moved to the Citadel.” Madame Cherise frowned at the rug, seeing nothing. “They must be. The Citadel is the only place where magic fades and is nullified.”
“But the young men are powerful! They cannot be allowed to fall into the hands of the Citadel!” Master Maître frowned at the headmistress. “Who knows what plans the emperor has hatched? It must be infiltrated, if this is the case, and the young men recovered.” His eyes pinned Mistress Espion. “I believe this is why you are here. To devise a plan to recover the boys, correct?”
“I would if I had the proper tools!” she snapped. “But what has been delivered to me? Children. They are children, for djinn sake! This school has never seen humans this young before.”
“Enough, all of you.” Madame Cherise pinned them all with a stern glare. “Before any rescue can be mounted, and this is assuming that the young men are in custody at the Citadel, we need to recover the catalysts. That must be mission number one. Without them, it will not be possible to access the Citadel or rescue anyone. More likely they would be captured. Is that what you want?” Silence. “First, we will train these young women. Secondly, since no one knows where the catalysts are to be found, the students will have to be taught how to research their locations. It falls to all of you to give them the education and the preparation to succeed in such a quest. They will need to know how to negotiate their societies and infiltrate the circles of the powerful. They will need to know how to fight and how to run. In short, they will need the wisdom of an adult grown in very short order.” She went to the door and opened it at the soft knock, admitting Hawkeye, the Djinn Dragonmerger leader into their midst. “Thirdly, we have help.”
Hawkeye followed her back to the chairs but did not sit. He preferred to stand when around humans. Cherise and Hawkeye shared a small smile. They had been bonded when Cherise was sixteen, and he had been her Djinn while she had been forced in seclusion. He had returned to Jintessa to wait for her to summon him back. She was thrilled to be reunited with him. The years spent in Bastion, raising her family had been wonderful but at the same time, lonely. There were some experiences that could not be shared with one’s mate, even though she loved her husband immensely. Gaitan was a man of stout heart and faithful to the core. That he was also a Citadel Guard and a double spy only made her love him more. Worry brought a frown to her brow. She prayed that he remained safe and that her father and Emily remained hidden. Jasper had passed beyond her sight, the same as the other male heart bearers. Her heart ached to know where he was, if he was also safe. Shaking off these morose thoughts, she focused on the teachers once again.
“Are there any questions?” said Madame Cherise.
“How do the young women feel about all of this? What preparation did you give them in Gaia? We all know that the witches of L’Ordre du Coeur Sacré were charged with finding and securing those who showed magical ability before the Citadel wizards could find them. The necklaces hid their powers, their magic undetectable to the Citadel and to those who hunted them. But did the young women know this? Were they made aware of what would be required of them, as they grew into their forbidden skills?” said Madame Espion.
“They are fully aware of what the necklaces mean. They have been taught of our ways in secret against the day when they would be called to their duty. They have been treated like royalty in their homelands. They will do their duty. They were all of age before the flight to choose with the possible exception of my daughter Shikara. But she is of age now. She knows her duty and will perform it. I have prepared her well. Do not question the preparation we have done as an Order. We have not been in hiding.” Madame Cherise glared around at her fellow teachers. “Unless there are further questions, I will dismiss this meeting. You have lessons to prepare, accelerated lessons. I want these young women ready in three months.”
As her fellow teachers shuffled out of the room, Cherise watched them go with apprehensive eyes. She allowed them a few moments to clear the hall then left the study, heading for her daughter’s room. Quietly opening the door, she slipped inside and tiptoed across the floor to her bedside. Shikara lay curled up in a ball, the exhaustion of the day putting her into a deep sleep. She trailed a tender hand down her hair.
I’m sorry, my sweet Kara, to rob you of your childhood. Forgive me.
Chapter 14
Triad
FOR ALL THAT THE HUMAN SCHOOL was a necessary feature on the island of Jintessa to the Djinn populace, it was an uncomfortable addition of recent date, a tolerated aberration. The school had been commissioned long ago as a way to bridge the differences between the humans across the sea and the Djinn. Most Djinn scholars were of mixed opinion as to whether the experiment had been a success or a failure. The scale of opinion, in human hands, tipped toward failure especially during the time of the Great Purge.
The Djinn races, born of the magic of their islands and formed of their essence, were shapeshifters. For the sake of the human population, they took on nonthreatening forms that were pleasing to human eyes, but their true nature was to blend into whatever feature or creature presented itself. They were just as comfortable transforming into a tree as a bird, although the latter had better mobility issues.
They were bound to the magic of the island and could not leave its shores unless merged to another magical creature such as a dragon. Thus, Dragonmergers were born and with that the ability to go beyond the shores their beloved home. The first Djinn explorers naively assumed that the human populations shared their beliefs, that the land and seas and all life therein and thereon was sacred and that they were similarly joined to it.
What they discovered was that humans were singular beings ruled by fear and superstition. They possessed a disturbing willingnes
s to slay the unfamiliar. Dragons were unknown in the land of humans. Great beasts that could fly were viewed as hostile intruders.
The first of the Dragonmergers who dared to fly over the human provinces were greeted with flights of arrows and cursing villagers. Such a stir was caused by the alien visitors that men banded together to hunt the crooning invaders and those that rode them. Quests of armed warriors and zealous priests tracked the flying beasts to their temporary lairs, and if a dragon was slain, so died the Djinn. Without the magical connection to their home world, they could not survive.
Such was the fate of the first Djinn to venture to Gaia, the land that humans called home, during the Great Purge.
There were those among the humans who carried a spark of magic, however. While Gaia did not overflow with magic, there was enough present in the soil to feed myth and legend. Rumours of an ancient clutch of witches that could wield magic permeated every human culture. Initially viewed as healers, these women were respected, even revered. They were central figures in their communities with the best houses and paid for by grateful villagers who were only too willing to have a healer in their midst. Their services were sought to bind marriages and oversee births, to purge diseases in crops and animals. Every village strove to secure a healer or someone who claimed to be a healer. Not all had the gift.
Those healers who did have magic belonged to the reclusive L’Ordre du Coeur Sacré guild. During the early years of Djinn exploration when the dragons frequented the skies, the women guided the Dragonmergers to isolated cliffs and caves to use as resting places, undetectable by the world at large. Old castles and monasteries dedicated to their order soon housed the visitors from over the sea, and mutual learning and study ensued.