The Center Rift is about two weeks flight north of Baojang.
Center Rift?
We dragons believe the world is a sphere. There’s a Rift across the circumference of it – right in the middle – where things are hottest.
Ridiculous.
Because you know so much more about foreign geography than I do...
I needed to travel more so that Raolcan couldn’t always be picking at me about how little I knew.
But then I’ll travel with you, so there will never be anything that you know that I don’t know also.
I squinted my eyes in the light, not certain if I was irritated by the sting in my eyes from the bright sun or by the fact that he was right. Did I see something on the horizon? It was hard to tell among the many strange rock formations and the broken, jagged horizon.
That must be Bao’hauld where Rakturan’s uncle Gahteen is Prince.
Good. I glanced at the map. He was right of course, in Rakturan’s spikey writing it showed the city ahead with those distinctive rock patterns sketched and beside it, “Prince Gahteen, Bao’hauld.”
We needed to get Renn there quickly. But despite being able to see the city slowly, slowly approaching, a journey I thought I would measure in minutes stretched to hours. When at last we could make out details of the place, I breathed a sigh of relief.
The city was built into a rocky formation, towers jutting out of rock piles and stone bridges running from one formation to another. One cliff wall was entirely made up of windows and doors with rampways winding from one to another. A low wall – about the height of a dragon – ringed the city, guarded by Sentries and archers.
Just glimpsing a Sentry made me shiver all over again and beneath me, I felt Raolcan shiver, too. Renn had yet to stir and that was worrisome. Whatever had happened was worse than a hit on the head.
As if the thought had triggered it, I had a flash in my mind of Leng speaking earnestly to a Castelan in a high chair. Around him, pale faces stared, horrified. The Castelan stood.
“Long have we respected Leedris Castel. We stand with the heir and Chosen One, Savette Leedris.”
The vision faded. At least Leng was still safe. He seemed to be progressing with less difficulty than I was having. There was commotion on the walls as we advanced toward the city. We were close enough now that I could see that it was larger than it had appeared from afar. So much of the city was built into the rock that it tricked the eye, but in the common areas fountains spurted fans of water and small, angular gardens were tended, making use of every inch of arable soil. It felt like a place of rest in the middle of this dry, rocky heap of a land.
They grow the strangest fruits in these places – sweet like honey, but so spicy that the mouth burns.
That actually sounded sort of appealing.
I’ll wait to see what you think after you’ve tried one.
The Sentries were buzzing along the wall, eager for us to arrive so they could challenge us. Maybe if Raolcan landed in front of the gates instead of trying to fly over them we could deal with the people on the ground instead. We weren’t trying to sneak in here. We needed to be seen.
Good thinking. I hate those multipus freaks.
Multipus?
Like an octopus but with many legs instead of eight.
We landed before the small gate in the wall at the same moment that a group of archers rode out on sleek black horses. Their helms and flowing clothing matched those of the guards we’d met in Abalang but the pattern of their hanging cords was different.
He barked something in his own language. I gritted my teeth. My lack of education was becoming increasingly frustrating.
We’re in the right place. He says we are subject to the authority of Prince Gahteen of Bao’hauld.
Chapter Seven
Why do authorities always sound like they’ve been sucking on lemons?
A lemon sounded nice right now. In water. I would drink every drop...
Concentrate.
“I am Amel Leafbrought,” I said in my own language. It wasn’t like I had another option. “I bear a message for Prince Gahteen of Bao’hauld.”
I pulled out the message Rakturan had given me, flourishing it for his benefit. He barked a series of orders and his men saluted with their curved swords before executing a group maneuver in formation that shifted them from facing me to facing the city. Their leader offered an elaborate salute and waved me toward the gate. Clearly, we were meant to follow. But would that be safe for the dragons? I still shuddered at the thought of Raolcan being sucked dry by those horrifying Sentries.
You and me both, spider.
No, if it wasn’t safe for them then I wasn’t going anywhere.
I don’t sense any evil purpose toward us. They are simply curious and following orders.
A second series of gestures waved us to follow. Reluctantly, I nodded. Let’s do this.
Raolcan strode forward, Ahummal on his heels. He turned, suddenly and roared in the Golden dragon’s face. I flinched, hands clamping down on the saddle. What was he doing?
You don’t know how to bind a dragon and he will cause trouble in a city. I told him to fly to the nearby hills and wait, but he refuses.
How long would he wait?
Until he’s called. I will call him when it is safe again. Or Renn can find him.
A spout of flame jetted out of Raolcan’s mouth, washing over Ahummal. He sneered, coughing his own fireball, but Raolcan batted it away with a wing.
He’s putting his own rider at risk with this nonsense.
As if that was all it took to convince him, Ahummal hung his head and slunk off toward the hills.
See? He just needed a nudge. Now you can negotiate with the Prince without a dragon under your authority accidentally burning the whole city down.
He turned around again, but our host, pale and wide-eyed held up a hand. So, our offer was rescinded, then? Great. No one was listening to me and now I had a sulky dragon on one hand and an irritated authority on the other.
Don’t call me sulky.
I meant Ahummal! I shook my head. Renn still needed help and I’d come too far for this. Raolcan could just keep walking forward, invitation or no invitation.
Maybe...
This time the decision was up to me. Onward.
Raolcan stepped forward, pushing past the guard waving for us to stop, past the lines of glossy horses and into the cool sanctuary of Bao’hauld. Time to push our luck a little. Where would I live if I was Prince of this place? No, better, where would Rakturan live if he were prince of this place?
There was a single spire in the center, its top like an unopened flower. I pointed it out to Raolcan. That was where he would be. The guards galloped beside us to keep pace as Raolcan strode down the broad city street. He kept his wings tucked in close, but even with that precaution the citizenry of Bao’hauld rushed to pull carts, mounts, and children from the streets, hustling them indoors or into alleys. We paused at a center fountain while Raolcan took a drink. It took all my willpower not to join him. I needed to look calm and in control for this to end with a new ally who respected us rather than in a jail cell.
There’s nothing like a dragon slurping up water and letting off steam to make people question their own eyes.
True enough. Steam flowed from Raolcan’s open mouth and rolled across the square.
By the time we reached the spire, there wasn’t a person in all of Bao’hauld who hadn’t stopped to peer from window, door or alley.
It’s just because Purple dragons are so good looking. Everyone wants to be able to tell their grandkids that they saw one.
I ignored him. I was too busy focusing on the warrior who came out of the spire, surrounded by guards. The helm with the knotted cord hanging down the back was familiar, as was the wide shoulder flares and flowing lines of the clothing, but when this warrior looked up at me, the angry face behind it was female.
I slid off of Raolcan’s back so I could address her one wom
an to another. Her hair escaped from the helm in wisps, floating in the light breeze.
“I have a message for Prince Gahteen and an injured man who needs help,” I said as clearly as I could in my own language.
I was sick of this dusty country. I was sick of missions that put me on the edge of an unknown city asking for help. Or sneaking in hoping they wouldn’t see me. Or having to convince one group or another to support us or care about the future or anything else. And now here I was all over again in a new city with a new group to convince. I was just too tired to do the song and dance.
Tiredly, I dismounted, and pulled my crutch down with me, leaning heavily on it. Around me, the sound of a thousand gasps filled the air.
“Yes, I’m crippled. No, it doesn’t mean I can’t ride a dragon. No, it’s not more important than this man who might be dying,” I grumbled, knowing no one could understand.
Raolcan let his jaw rest on the ground so I could unstrap Renn and pull him off my glorious dragon to drop onto the ground.
“Now,” I said, still focused on Renn and not the crowd. “Let’s see if we can find someone who cares about a dying man in this hulking rock of a city.”
“I care,” a heavily accented feminine voice said.
My jaw dropped as I looked up to the smug expression on the female warrior’s face. She pulled off her helmet, letting her curling black hair tumble down her back.
“I am Jalla, daughter of Prince Gahteen of Bao’hauld.”
Chapter Eight
“He touched a Kah’deem,” she said, thumbing back one of his eyelids. Her fierce expression turned on me. “You were trying to steal our kingdom?”
“No!” I raised my hands defensively, fingers spread wide. “Of course not!”
“I only know of one thing that causes this. Touching a Kah’deem – a warder.” Around her, there were murmurs in her language. The crowd watched us cautiously, as if waiting to see what Jalla would say or do.
“He touched something in the mountains – something that didn’t want to be looked at.”
Her hand leapt to her sword hilt. “And he didn’t know what it was?”
“I still don’t know what it is.”
She relaxed. “That’s probably the only reason he’s alive. You have to touch them with purpose to be tested.” She called something behind her back and one of the guards scurried away. “I sent for a stretcher. We’ll see he gets the healing he needs. It’s no small thing to touch a Kah’deem. Our ancients set them up when this land was still known as Bao’queea. Our prophecies tell us that the one who opens it and takes an artifact is our great leader and under him, the peoples will unite and join together to fight the Great Battle. He is not the first fool to try his hand at that.”
I nodded. “There were blood stains at the base of the thing he touched.”
“All our would-be Princes offer blood there as a sign of our dedication. Some try to open the Kah’deem. Some are killed on the spot or left insane or unconscious. None succeed in opening them. Your friend received the least possible consequence for his foolishness.”
She stood and shook out her hair as the stretcher arrived. “You can follow them if you wish.”
“I’d rather stay with you.” Either Renn would be fine or he wouldn’t be. I was worried about him, but I was no healer. I was a messenger. “I have a message for your father.”
She nodded. “And your dragon?”
“Is fine to wait here. He’s already eaten his fill of people today.”
Nice one.
She stared at me for a moment before laughing. “A joke, I think. But he will be happier in the stables. There are water and food there.”
Did he want to go there?
Better than a dusty street.
I nodded. “Thank you.”
Jalla motioned for a guard to step forward and spoke to him in her rolling tongue. I bit my lip as Raolcan followed him down an alley. He sneezed along the way, letting loose a fireball at the low wall of a garden and making the guard jump, fear etched on his face.
Don’t worry. If they bother me, I’ll just fly away. Dragons are never defenseless.
A flash of memory filled my mind – Raolcan surrounded by Sentries sucking out his life.
You’re going to throw that in my face all the time now, aren’t you? They took me by surprise!
If he said so.
Jalla cleared her throat. “Coming?”
I followed her through the press of guards and onlookers and through a series of massive doors and arches to a clay-tiled courtyard. A fountain surrounded by flowering vines bubbled to one side as people came and went through the courtyard. Jalla led me through a second set of gates to a winding stairway. I followed her from terrace to terrace until we ducked into a stone door.
“You’re fast despite that crutch.”
“Thank you.” I wasn’t as fast as she was. She moved with the speed and sureness of a true warrior.
“How did you come to ride a dragon?”
“I volunteered.”
She stopped and turned to stare at me. “No test for ability?”
“Not beyond whether I could mount and fly.”
She looked shocked. “You come from a powerful family?”
“No.”
“You are bountiful in wealth?”
“Certainly not.”
“Educated, of course.”
I shook my head and she made a sound of horror. “Barbarians.”
Still, she led me through the door into a wide room carved into the mountainside. Along the side of the room, windows large enough for a dragon to squeeze through led to balconies. Inside, rugs were layered across the floor and low tables held food and drink while men and women were arranged in circles, sitting leisurely on pillows of various sizes. We must have stumbled upon a family home celebrating some occasion. I smiled, waiting for Jalla to give apologies, but instead, she pushed forward, stopping to gesture impatiently for me to follow.
She pointed to an empty pillow with a meaningful look at me and then sat down on a second pillow beside it.
“Father,” she said, and my eyes grew large as she addressed a greying man across the circle. “This one, Amel Leafbrought, a Purple Dragon Rider, brings a message for you. Perhaps we can use her and the dragon in our war.”
I swallowed. What had I stumbled into this time? And why would she say that aloud, knowing I could hear it?
I think she likes to shock people. Very dragon-like.
“I’m afraid I have my own war to fight.” I pulled the message out of my belt. “But Prince Rakturan sends greetings and this message.” I held it out.
Jalla snatched it from my hand. “She owes us indenture. She traveled here with a man who touched a Kah’deem.”
Around us, everyone gasped. The only sound in the room was the light tinkle of bells as the chimes in the windows sang in the breeze.
“I accept her indenture and message,” Prince Gahteen said with a wide grin. Beside him, another man chuckled as he drank from an earthen cup. I didn’t see the humor in it.
“I’m only offering the message,” I said. I needed to get this message delivered and get back home. There was a war going on without me. There wasn’t time for jokes – dragon-like or otherwise.
“Our customs are clear on this. Any who challenge the authority of the local Prince and survive are subject to indenture.”
“I’ve challenged nothing.” The hard looks in their eyes were making me nervous. None of them looked ready to back down on this.
“As a gift to my daughter,” Gahteen said, not even looking at me, “as a sign of my favor, I offer Jalla of Bao’hauld the indenture of this woman, the man who broke faith, and their dragons.”
“I gladly accept,” Jalla said with a smile. “Thank you for the honor, Father.”
“What does it mean to be indentured?” I asked.
“It means you’re my slaves until I say otherwise.”
Chapter Nine
W
hoa. What? Seriously, by the time we’d quelled the Ifrit threat and saved the Dominion from destruction, every single set back possible was likely to happen to me – at least if they kept going at this rate. But I hadn’t expected slavery. How was I going to get out of this one?
“Ah! The message you bring me is from Prince Rakturan,” Prince Gahteen said, taking a sip from his own cup.
“You may eat and drink,” Jalla said to me with a smug smile. Really? I held back the scowl I wanted to give her, but I didn’t reach for the water in the sweating pitcher nearby. I was thirsty enough to drink the whole thing, but I’d rather be thirsty than drink at her orders.
Imagine what it was like for me when I was taken to Dragon School. Treated like a slave. Given food and drink when they felt like giving it to me.
A stab of ice pierced my heart. I had forgotten what life was like for him only a few months ago.
And what it will be like for me again when this war is over, and you are a student once more.
Never again. I wouldn’t allow it. I’d simply have to make full Dragon Rider first so that he never had to be treated like that again. Why had he agreed to it in the first place? I understood that he’d been chosen by Queen Haz and sent as part of our deal, but this deal felt like a bad idea. If I were in charge I’d be sure that only volunteer dragons were accepted at the school. Maybe someday, I would be in charge ...
My vision doubled for a moment and then for a flash of a second, I was watching Shonan speaking to an Ilerioc just like the one we’d seen translate for the dragons before. I didn’t see the dragon he was speaking to.
“And that’s why we need to renegotiate this treaty. There are many things that have changed since Haz first negotiated with Haz’drazen, the great queen of dragons.”
“We are agreed,” the Ilerioc said, “but we can only negotiate with the rightful ruler of the Dominion – and only Queen Haz’drazen may say who that is.”
“Isn’t that the Dominar?” Shonan asked.
“The man or the mask?” the Ilerioc asked. He made a strange sign with his fingers, like he was speaking with them.
Dragon School_Ancient Allies Page 3