Dragon School_Dusk Covenant

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  I shivered in the dark of the cave. I didn’t like these prophecies. It wasn’t good to dwell on hard times coming. It made it harder to grow strong now.

  And yet, without them how would we hope? How would we know what to do when disaster strikes?

  With our own wits and good judgment?

  Have you met people? How many of them have good judgment? And what about when two wise people disagree?

  They were good points, but I’d still rather live without prophecy.

  I think Savette would rather live without it, too. But she’s stuck with it now. What’s happening to her isn’t normal. Hubric is right to quote the prophesies. Who knows if there may be a key there?

  Who made these prophecies in the first place?

  They come to us from beyond, but they were mostly written down by Ibrenicus and others like him.

  “You awake over there, Amel?” Hubric asked. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “We should eat, drink and take care of anything necessary before we fly again. We’ll stop at an inn for tonight, but we need to put a hard day of flying in first. We slept longer than we planned to. It’s almost noon.”

  He looked worried.

  “Will a few hours make so great a difference? It will take days to get to Dominion City.”

  “Days? Ha! Try weeks.”

  “Even flying?”

  “The Empire is vast, Sworn. It is both our security and our frailty.”

  I nodded and turned to Savette. “Do you need anything?”

  Her white, glowing stare made me swallow. “I’ve been taken care of.”

  What were we going to do about those eyes when we got near people? Those were sure to draw attention.

  Hubric handed me a white silk scarf. “When we get close to a town, you’ll need to bind her eyes with that. You won’t mind, will you, Savette?”

  “No,” she said, distantly.

  “Better that people think she’s blind than that they see what really has happened to her.”

  Chapter Nine

  There’s something special about a hamlet town on the edge of a mountain range. Maybe it’s the way that the farms nearby seem to be placed on the top of every rolling hill with their sheep and crops planted out around them like roots to a great tree. Maybe it’s the way the people’s gaits seem more playful and less purposeful. It gives the entire place a feeling of home and family and happiness. We arrived in Linsc, setting our dragons down in the town square.

  People arrived so quickly that it was like mosquitos at night – our mere presence attracted them without any need to do or say more.

  “Have you come from Vanika, Dragon Riders?” The man who spoke looked like he was the mayor. He wore a thick band of cloth around his belly, an emblem stitched onto the front in careful needlework.

  “You’ve heard news of Vanika then?” Hubric asked.

  “Horses came through an hour ago. On their way to Dominion City. They said terrible things. Things that can’t be true.” Around him the gathering crown nodded, grim expression on their faces.

  “Such as?” Hubric seemed undisturbed by their stares and I was glad we’d thought to bind the scarf around Savette’s eyes. These people were touchy. Who knows what they would do if they saw her white glowing eyes right now.

  “They said the city was devastated by Magikas,” one man said.

  “Said refuges are flooding the surrounding towns. Said they’d be here by tomorrow or the next day. How are we supposed to take care of refugees? We can barely keep our own farms profitable with the Dominion’s new taxes and trade to Baojang tariffed like it is!”

  The mayor held up a hand. “The riders said that the Dominar is dead. Do you know if that is true?”

  “Sounds like tall tales and stories to me,” Hubric said, drawing a thin stick out of a pocket and chewing on the end of it. “And while I love a good story as much as the next man, what I really need is a couple of rooms for the night.”

  “A couple?” a robust man beside the mayor asked. He wore the white apron of an innkeeper.

  Hubric held up two fingers. “Two rooms. Hot food. A bath if you have it.”

  “Two silver each,” the man with the apron said.

  “You rob me blind.”

  “If you want hot baths you pay hot bath price.”

  Hubric scratched his chin and pulled a face before saying. “Two it is then.”

  “So, there are no refugees?” the mayor asked. “Vanika has not fallen?”

  “She stood where she always has when I left her,” Hubric said, “but as to refugees, I don’t know. There was chaos in the city when we left.”

  The crowd stiffened at his words. This wasn’t what they wanted to hear.

  “Shouldn’t you have stayed to fight?” a little boy asked before being hushed by his mother.

  “We’re purples, boy,” Hubric said. “Our game is the delivery of messages.”

  “And are you delivering one?”

  Hubric winked. “Always. Come here.”

  The boy ran forward and Hubric extracted a candy from his pocket and gave it to the boy. “I have a message for you: candy makes life sweeter.”

  The boy laughed, and tension dissolved in the ring of people.

  “Well, come on then. Daylight’s wasting,” the innkeeper said. “There’s room in the stableyard for the dragons as we’ve no horses at present. It’s up to you to tend them, though. I won’t lose an arm to one of them, I can tell you!”

  I wouldn’t eat his arm if we were out of supplies and facing down a dinner of grass and shoots.

  I was looking forward to the bath, but at the same time worry filled me. What would these little towns and hamlets do with the refugees who were on their way? It was this very thing we had wanted to prevent all along and now it was happening anyway. I felt raw inside thinking about it.

  Chapter Ten

  Wake up! Wake up!

  I woke with a start. Savette snored in the bed next to me. We’d both bathed the night before and our hair was wet, but she’d insisted that I leave the scarf over her eyes. She’d produced a pair of tiny silver scissors and cut the frazzled ends off my burnt hair without cutting my skin, so she must have been able to see somehow – and to still be in the real world enough to offer an act of kindness to me.

  “Get up Savette. We need to dress,” I said, pulling my leathers back on. There was a pounding on my door. I shoved my boots on my feet, grabbed my crutch and hobbled to the door.

  The pounding began again, as I unbarred the door, opening it quickly. Hubric rushed through, nearly knocking me down.

  “Close it up again. Are you packed?”

  He helped me swing the door closed and bar it. I worked quickly to strap my crutch to my arm.

  “I put all our things away before we went to bed.”

  “Good,” he said, snatching up our satchel and helping Savette up. She was fully dressed but struggling with her fur cloak. I scrambled to help her despite Hubric’s desperate expression. “We need to leave. Now.”

  “What happened?” I asked. I still felt groggy. How long was it until dawn?

  “Chaos. Other travelers arrived throughout the night. They are trying to seize our dragons.” He flung the shutters open and, in the yard, I saw a ring of men – at least thirty. They were armed, but their clothing and helms were unpolished and unmatched. Who could they be?

  Ruffians from the countryside around Vanika. They think they can take us as mounts.

  Were they crazy? I watched as one man ran toward Kyrowat, axe in hand. The dragon gouted flames, lighting him up like a torch. A dark figure pulled back from the ring into the shadows. There was something familiar about him...

  Definitely crazy.

  “Up on the window ledge,” Hubric said, pulling us forward. “Here, take the bag, Amel. I have Savette.”

  I slung the satchel over my shoulder and Hubric helped Savette climb up onto the sill. Kyrowat launched into the air, flying toward the inn. Hubric and Savette leapt at the same t
ime and Kyrowat caught them on his back, bouncing with their sudden weight and then pushing hard with his massive wings to gain height. Maybe this was why they made us practice so many leaping maneuvers as trainees.

  I scrambled up onto the ledge, swaying there. The bag was heavy, and my dead leg felt like lead. All the muscles around it ached after yesterday’s icy ride. I felt sweat forming just from my climb up to the ledge.

  There was a new pounding at the door and this time I couldn’t be Hubric. In the yard, Raolcan spread his flame out thick as snow as the ring of men focused on their solitary target. Could he hold out on his own? There were so many! Fortunately, they seemed to fear the flame, attacking only in little bursts.

  There was a splintering sound from the door. Raolcan launched into the air, his wings sweeping a half-dozen men aside as he gained height. I clung to the window ledge waiting for him. More splintering met my ears and the sound of something heavy hitting the door.

  “You might as well open up!” a voice called.

  Fear shot through me. Hurry, Raolcan!

  The door burst open and the room filled with angry people and gleaming weapons at the same time that Raolcan shouted, Jump!

  I leapt, sobbing with relief as he caught me. Fingertips had brushed my arm as I leapt. It was that close. Why would they try to take Raolcan and Kyrowat? Did they have a death wish?

  People do strange things when fear grips them.

  We rose above the cloud layer and pulled in tight to Kyrowat who snapped half-heartedly at Raolcan. My heart jumped.

  Don’t take it seriously. He’s riled up from the fight below. He won’t hurt you.

  I signaled ‘What now?’ to Hubric in Dragon Rider sign.

  “No more inns,” he mouthed to me.

  I nodded. It looked like we would have another cold night flying. At least the moon was bright above the cloud cover and Raolcan seemed energetic.

  I need to eat soon. A sheep would be nice.

  We’d have to tend to that when dawn came. How could I ask Hubric in a respectful way?

  Don’t worry, Kyrowat is complaining about it incessantly. He will relent.

  I could almost feel Raolcan’s mouth watering.

  Chapter Eleven

  Hunting went well for the dragons – or sheep-stealing perhaps, but I tried not to think about that. It was a serious crime in our village. A hanging crime.

  I’d like to watch them try to hang me. They don’t have enough rope or a high enough gallows.

  I shuddered. I didn’t want to think about that. Hubric and Savette and I sat on a grassy knoll eating our own lunch of dried sausages, hard cheese, and crusty bread. Hubric had the foresight to stock up on supplies at the inn but if we weren’t going to another soon we would have to ration the food.

  “So, no more inns,” I said.

  “Definitely not,” Hubric said. “When we need supplies, we’ll barter with individual farms. When we get farther south the chaos should reduce. Refugees will only go so far, I’m sure. They’ll be waiting for the dragoons to come and restore order in Vanika.”

  “And will they restore order?”

  “As soon as they can get there.”

  I turned to Savette. “Do you need anything? You could take your blindfold off.”

  She shook her head. She seemed to prefer it and it didn’t hinder her at all from moving freely as if she could see through it. Maybe she could.

  “Are you finding a way to harness your magic?”

  She shook her head again.

  “Let her be, Amel,” Hubric commanded. “It’s her fight, not yours. All we can do is be good friends to her right now.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “In the meantime, there’s something we need to rectify about your education.”

  Had I failed in some way? I felt my heart speed up, my face growing hot.

  “Oh, calm down. You’re too conscientious, girl. Here’s the thing: you’re a cripple, but that doesn’t mean you can’t fight. It will be harder because you’re slow and you can’t maneuver or balance as well, but it isn’t impossible. I think it would be best for you to use a reach-type weapon like a quarterstaff. It gives you something to lean on and you can use it to maneuver between strikes and defenses. It’s why I gave you that crutch.”

  I looked at my crutch curiously. Other than being beautiful and metal, there was nothing weapon-like about it.

  “Here, pass it to me.” Hubric held out his hand and I unbuckled the crutch from my forearm and handed it to him.

  He took the crutch in expert hands and twisted the carvings just below the handgrip. The top of the handgrip popped open and Hubric flicked the crutch forward and an inner shaft slid out, doubling the length of the crutch and locking in place. The forearm grip was still there, but the shaft was long now.

  “I’ll teach you the basics, and we’ll work together on how to adapt the moves to your capabilities. I won’t always be around, and we can’t send you out there defenseless. You saw how quickly things can go sideways.”

  “Thank you,” I said, and I meant it. Raolcan was always there for me, but sometimes he wouldn’t be close enough to help.

  “Okay, let’s start with a simple pivot and see how we can adapt it for you. Watch me.”

  Over the next three days, I both loved and hated our practice drills. I loved learning the new skill and dreaming about mastering it. In just three days, Hubric taught me to pivot and spin using the staff like a crutch. He taught me two simple strikes from a position where I balanced on my good leg and one simple block. I hated it because my good leg was sore and tired, aching almost as much as the bad one now that we were pushing it so hard.

  “It will hurt less as you grow stronger,” Hubric promised, but that was poor consolation during fitful nights of aching sleep.

  Savette remained mostly silent; sleeping when we slept and eating when we ate. She liked to stay close to Hubric or me and slept next to Raolcan. He didn’t seem to mind.

  I like her mind, even when it’s turbulent and wrestling the great snake of magic that threatens to choke it out.

  I was surprised to see that Hubric slept against Kyrowat, too.

  “Only a fool passes up extra warmth on a winter’s night,” he said when he noticed me watching, but I thought it was more than that. They were as close as Raolcan and I were.

  All purples are close to their riders. He and Kyrowat share a mind like we do and like Leng and Ahlskibi do. It's one reason we are solitary. We don't need or want many others around.

  It made a lot of sense.

  On the third day, I woke to see Savette standing on an outcropping close to where we were camped. She held her arms up as if reaching for the rising sun and I could have sworn that her whole body was glowing, though it might have just been an effect of the dawn and my own tired eyes.

  “In the dawn glows the chosen,

  Bringer of our enemies’ downfall.

  Light the only companion,

  On journey to the heart.”

  Hubric had woken, too, and as always, he had a prophecy to quote.

  “Do you think your prophecies are about Savette?” I asked, quietly.

  He shrugged.

  “If you don’t think they are, then why do you always quote them?”

  “Habit,” he snapped, but I thought it was more than that. I thought he believed them and that he thought they were being fulfilled in Savette.

  I watched them carefully that morning, certain that I saw him showing her deference in his decisions. Was it just the compassion of an old man for a pretty young woman, or was it something more? Did he think Savette was the chosen one of prophecy?

  Chapter Twelve

  We found a farm that night and paid the farmer for a place to sleep in his barn. His wife offered some roasted vegetables at a hefty price and a pair of sheep for the dragons. Hubric paid them the full price without haggling over it. Hot food was a luxury and it was nice to know the sheep wouldn’t be stolen as we left the farmhouse for the barn. The fa
rmhouse door closed with a bang and I saw the farmer’s wife closing the curtains with a frown on her face. Profit or not, she wasn’t happy with us sleeping in her barn. We’d left Savette with the dragons, so it wasn’t like she’d even seen the things most likely to spook her.

  “We want to come and go as easily as we can,” Hubric said, by way of explanation. “Haggling arouses interest. You saw their faces. They want as little to do with us as possible, so we accept the dry barn on a wet night and the hot meal with grace and move on. It’s the Dragon Rider way.”

  It was certainly wet. Yesterday we had left the snow-covered ground and entered a world of gray skies and constant rain. I was looking forward to somewhere dry to sleep for the night.

  “Perhaps we could try an inn again tomorrow,” I suggested. The price for the barn and vegetables had been as steep as any inn would be.

  “No more inns,” Hubric said.

  “How do you get coin, Hubric?” I asked. It wasn’t like there was time to make money on the side when you were busy flying the Dominion’s messages from place to place.

  He chuckled. “Dragon Riders are issued yearly funding from the Dominar. We are his vassals. The Council of Sky People divides the funds amongst the school and the Colors to meet our needs. The Color issues us a monthly stipend.”

  “We have our own governing body? A council?”

  He laughed again. “You really didn’t get very far in your training, did you? Of course, we do. Someone has to deal with all the boring politics and administration. Now, enough about this. We have hungry people to feed – me especially, and then you need to train with your staff, and when you’re too tired to move I’m going to teach you cards.”

  “Is that essential to my training?”

  “It’s essential to my sanity. It’s been more than a week since I played and I’m feeling an itch.” His grin was infectious, and I laughed. I didn’t usually have much energy left after practicing with my staff, but this sounded like it would be more mental than physical.

  Raolcan and Kyrowat were already lying outside the barn in the dripping rain. They couldn’t fit through the barn door.