“Come on, Amel!” Artis said as she hurried toward the hall.
“Go on without me, Artis. I’m going to take a break here.” She looked torn, so I repeated myself. “Really, go on. I’ll be fine.”
She left in a flurry of people, Olla and Orra in her wake. They would have fun dancing. I’d already seen some of the young men eyeing them in their brightly colored dresses.
Where the garden met the terraces of the great hall, there was a mass of moving people, but further into the garden, closer to where it met the cliffs above the sea, there was no one. It was like an entirely different place. I wandered from one tree to the next, admiring their smooth white bark and glossy leaves until, under one of them, tucked far in the back, I found a bench. Perfect! Exactly what I needed.
I took a seat and massaged my sore hip. I’d certainly been giving it a workout lately! But that was nothing to worry about. In time, I would adapt and adjust and grow stronger and for now, there was this handy bench and a gorgeous moon to look at.
Towards the palace, I heard a bush rustling and then two figures stepped out, plain and easy to see in the bright moonlight. They looked around and I realized they couldn’t see me sitting here behind the leafy tree. One of them was Starie Atrelan.
Chapter Eighteen
“Be quiet,” Starie hissed. “Someone might hear us.”
“Out here?” That was Corrigan’s voice! “While all the important people are inside meeting your dashing prince and the commoners in the courtyard are getting drunk? No one would be in the gardens on a night like tonight.”
No one except a girl with a bad leg and a sore hip who needed a moment to stop and rest. No one but me.
“We need to find Savette Leedris and bring her out here to the garden,” Starie said. She was peering into every bush, sure she was being watched. I held very still.
“Correction. I need to find Savette Leedris. You need to find the Grandis with a bold story of how you washed up here afraid and alone.” That was Corrigan’s voice! Her silhouette moved, suddenly and I heard the sound of a slap.
“What was that for?” Starie’s voice was high with surprise.
“You’re supposed to look distraught, not like the fox who ate the chickens. I thought I’d give you a hand with the fake tears. They won’t look so fake now.”
“It hurts!”
“Listen,” Corrigan sounded impatient. “We only have until tenth bell and you can already hear the singers of ninth bell. Go inside and see if you can find your Grandis. You need to make her believe you before the action starts.”
“Yes.”
Corrigan’s voice softened. “I’m going to miss you. Don’t forget – this is for honor.”
My heart was hammering. I needed to get to Savette and warn her about Corrigan. But how? Any movement right now would draw their notice. Worse, I had no idea what Corrigan was planning.
“I won’t forget.” Starie sounded sad. Had they become friends? They were moving toward the terrace, despite Starie’s objection.
I stood up, cautiously, reminding myself to stay tucked in the shadow of the tree. I adjusted my grip on my crutch and limped off further into the bushes. My heart was beating so quickly that I had to take a moment to remind myself to breathe. No one could help Savette if I was passed out on the ground somewhere. I found another terrace door a little way down the garden and snuck through the entrance to the throng inside.
I’d never been somewhere so opulent before. It made Dragon School appear spartan. The room was richly decorated with hanging tapestries. Richly embroidered silk bearing the images of dragons of various color and a complicated silver knot made of two dragon’s tails tied together was hung in swaths all around the room. The hall was large enough to hold my entire village. I gaped as I looked down from the stairway to the sunken ballroom below. An orchestra played, the man-high drums and long slender wind instruments predominating in the current piece, producing a rumbling boom-Bah boom-Bah music.
On the sunken dance floor, couples engaged in a hip-swinging energetic dance that I would never be able to imitate in a thousand years. Just thinking of trying to cross that dance floor without tripping a dozen dancers with my crutch made me flinch.
Around the dance floor, were terraced levels with drinks, food and seating and various people who were opting not to dance congregated at each level, talking with heads close together or gesturing with drinks in a way that had little compassion for the servants who would have to clean up afterward.
My eyes fell on Savette almost immediately. She wore a heavily embroidered, scarlet sky-silk dress with a high collar that came up to her cheekbones and cut sharply to the back. The bodice was designed so that it looked more like battle armor than a ladies’ dress, but the skirt was nearly transparent and so filmy that it left little to the imagination. Fortunately, the armor-like bodice came down in heavy protection to a few inches past the hips – just enough for decency. Dressed in such a fashion, she looked like a goddess.
Beside her, Prince Rakturan was smiling at an elderly man in military uniform. Rakturan, true to form, had the exotic look of a carapaced insect. His jacket a bottle green, but cut in such a foreign way that it was impossible for me to tell if it was fashionable or a uniform of its own. It left his forearms exposed and intricate red and black tattoos covered them entirely and snaked down the backs of his hands. On his head, the strange upside-down crown he’d worn before was burnished to brightness.
They stood together with the elderly man and a woman who appeared to be his wife, on a platform a step above the terraced floors, where all the other levels could see them. One level beneath them, a variety of well-dressed people with haughty looks made short remarks to one another and studied the crowd. That must be the tier I wasn’t granted access to. Rakturan’s own men mixed among them. They must be the High Castelans – only one step below the Dominar in their importance. Likely, the elderly man was the High Castelan of the Ruby Isles himself.
I scanned the crowd, not seeing any of my knot, although I did spot Grandis Elfar chatting to a woman of a similar age. Through the crowd, a flushed Starie in a peach colored dress pushed toward the Grandis. Across the room I saw Corrigan, her gaze fixed on Savette and a frown on her face. She had the same problem I did. How would we get up on the dais? Only Rakturan, Savette and the High Castelans of the Isles were allowed there, and the people beneath them looked like they would snap the heads off anyone else who tried.
I was no High Castelan. I wouldn’t even be able to get to that lower level. I needed a plan. If only I was a dragon who could fly where no one else could go. I watched idly as a servant climbed up the levels of the dais, tray in hand, distributing drinks. There was something familiar about her – something I couldn’t quite place. She ascended all the way to the top, offering Savette a drink from her tray. Savette took it, but her hardened expression was locked on the prince as if he was going to marry her by force this very night. Maybe he was. What did I know about these things?
Maybe if I asked one of the servants, they could deliver a message to her. I followed the servant girl with my gaze and noticed the discreet cart at one end of the room, filled with drinks and food. She was headed back there to restock. And then all of a sudden, I realized why she looked so familiar. With her plain white dress, her hair braided behind her and a sturdy pair of black shoes on her feet, she was dressed almost exactly the same as I was.
Chapter Nineteen
I didn’t have time to lose, so I hustled over to the cart, crutch slipping slightly on the polished marble floor. I’d need to be careful. I timed my arrival to get there just as another servant was leaving. Would they question me when I took a tray of appetizers? No. No one had seen. The appetizers were lighter and easier to maneuver than drinks were, but how would I avoid notice? My crutch drew eyes.
I followed a girl with a wide skirt who was heading in the direction I wanted to go and shadowed her. If I could just follow people, then maybe I wouldn’t draw as
much notice as I would if I was cutting a path through the crowds myself.
Before long, I’d made it to the tier below Savette’s. I’d lost track of where Starie and Corrigan had gone, but if I worried about them, then I wouldn’t be able to focus on my own task. I stopped to serve two women who held their chins so high that they had to peer down their noses at me. I kept my eyes low like I imagined a servant would. I wasn’t from a noble family, but I wasn’t from a servant family either, and I had no idea how I should act as one except to serve the food and be humble.
It was taking me too long to make my way to Savette. Every stop felt like an eternity. Every moment that someone stepped in my path and I had to veer around them was a moment lost. I had to fight against impatience and anxiety. Hold the course, Amel.
A formidable woman in a blue dress almost as armored-looking as Savette’s stopped in front of me. “Now what are in these puffs? I hope they don’t have mushrooms in them.”
“No ma’am,” I said. Savette turned on the dais, the prince taking her hand as if he would lead her to the dance floor. No! I needed to get to her now. I tried to move out of the woman’s path, but her face turned sour as she bit into the appetizer.
“It is mushrooms!” she said, loudly enough that people turned to look at us. “You lied to me. I want to talk to your supervisor.”
I swallowed. What did I do now? Savette was stepping down to the tier below. Was that Corrigan I saw in the crowd nearby? There was nothing for it. If people noticed me, then they noticed.
I shoved the tray in the sputtering lady’s hands. “I’m sure you’ll be much better at this than I am!”
I hurried after Savette, but she wasn’t headed for the dance floor, she was being led toward the garden terrace by Prince Rakturan. He was playing right into the Magikas’ hands!
“Savette!” I called as the gap between us widened. I was too slow. I wasn’t going to make to her in time. She didn’t turn – likely didn’t hear me, but I felt a hand grab my upper arm, pulling me to a dead stop.
Chapter Twenty
I whipped my head around to see Leng, dressed in full dragon rider regalia - a fancy leather coat with a high collar, complete with tight belts around his chest, waist, and thighs. He must have been attending the party. He looked deadly.
“Savette is in trouble!” I said. He wouldn’t ask me to prove it, would he? I had no proof, but why was he holding me back?
“I’ll deal with this.”
I clenched my jaw. I was not a child to be set aside when a friend needed help. People always thought I couldn’t do what was needed because of my leg, but that just wasn’t true. I pushed his hand gently from my arm and headed toward the terrace.
Leng made a sound of frustration in his throat and then leapt in front of me, seized my crutch and wrenched it from my grip. “It’s for your own safety. Why are you always in the thick of danger when all I want to do is keep you safe?”
He was running through the door, crutch in hand while I was standing there, wobbling, on one foot. I couldn’t go far unless I resorted to crawling and I certainly wasn’t going to get far on all fours in this dress. I felt tears of frustration welling up. If I focused, perhaps I could hop on one foot to the door, dragging my other leg. I clenched my jaw and concentrated.
Hop.
Hop.
I lost sight of Leng as he rushed through the door. Behind us, the party continued as if nothing was happening. Why was he so focused on protecting me? I didn’t want to live life as an invalid. I wanted to live it as an adventurer.
Hop.
What’s happening? Raolcan was picking up on something going on. How could he reach me from so far away?
Our bond is unique. Don’t ask questions. Give answers!
Leng had stolen my crutch and I couldn’t see! There. The door. At last. I grabbed the frame, steadying myself and letting my gaze wander over the terraces below. My mouth dropped as I took it all in.
Leng was still running down the steps, while Savette was in the center of the courtyard arguing with a gesturing Prince Rakturan. He had her arm in an iron grip. I couldn’t hear her words, but her eyes were wide and her face flushed. It looked more like a lover’s quarrel than something nefarious.
Above her, hard to discern in the darkness, dragons were approaching. Were those Corrigan’s friends? How did they arrive without the Dragon Riders on watch sounding an alert? I gripped the doorframe tightly. Could Raolcan get here in time to help?
I can’t. They bind trainee dragons. They don’t trust us not to leave without permission.
If only my culture wasn’t so mistrustful of dragons. If only they treated them with respect. If only-
Leng rushed down the steps, calling to Savette and Rakturan and pointing above them. The first dragon descended as he was still explaining. He flung my crutch to one side and barrelled into Savette, knocking her to the side and into the leafy plants. The prince snarled but quickly spun away from his intended as a Magika fireball exploded between her and the palace where I stood – lighting up the night in brilliant magenta. Fire raged in a pool on the ground after the initial burst let off. Did they hurl some sort of substance at the same time?
“Guards!” I called, “Dragon Riders! Warriors! Up arms! Alert!”
What about Ahlskibi? Was he bound like Raolcan? Why didn’t Leng call him?
They don’t have our range.
Already I heard a rush of murmurs behind me, but they hadn’t penetrated far enough in the party to stop the music or loud burbling of voices. Can you ask him for help, Raolcan?
I bit my lip, feeling helpless in the face of the battle and the peril to my friend. Guards poured in from the garden side of the terrace, but once they arrived they looked confused. Leng squatted over Savette, one hand motioning her to be still while the other held up a drawn dagger. Beside him, Rakturan held his own sword up, his back to Leng.
Dragons circled above them, and then another swooped down, Magika fireballs filling the space between the arriving guards and the fallen High Castelan.
Ahlskibi comes.
Good. We needed him. Maybe if Leng had him help, he could chase the Magikas off. Had they planned to tip their hand this way? It seemed like a very showy way to dispose of her if they planned to replace her with Starie.
“I see you’re in your proper place, Blighted.” I spun to see Corrigan smiling at me as she rushed by. She took the time to give me a jaunty wave with her fingers, like I was a little kid left behind while everyone else went off on an important trip. She rushed down the steps, straight through the angry trail of fire as if nothing could harm her and ran up to Savette, grabbing her under each arm and helping her up. Leng lent a hand clearly not understanding this was a foe and not a friend. Rakturan stood with his back to them, sword brandished high as if he could hold off a full-grown dragon on his own.
“Don’t trust her,” I called, but I was too late.
Corrigan took a step back with a dazed Savette as if to move her away from the danger. A golden dragon – was that Nenebeph? – swooped low with Apprentice Tred on the back. Beside him, Starie’s dragon Esteven dove low and clutched the edge of the cliff – but with no Starie on the back. He flamed and Rakturan dodged out of the way, spinning as he did so and coming up to face the dragon, just feet from its steaming snout. With a cry, he lifted his blade high, his tattoos flaring with purple light and then he struck.
I gasped as Esteven’s head was cleaved in half. He crumpled, falling in on himself and then lost his grip on the edge of the cliff, plummeting over the side. I’d never seen a dragon die like that before. They were too powerful to be killed by a single sword stroke, weren’t they?
Not a Baojang sword.
Corrigan shoved Savette into Tred’s arms, hitting her hard over the head as she did. Savette slumped into his arms. Corrigan raised a hand and Savette was suddenly trussed in glowing rings of fire. Leng rushed towards her, seeming to be in slow motion as Nenebeph leapt into the air. He crashed in
to Corrigan, bowling her over and knocking a fireball loose from her hand. And continued his run to the edge of the cliff, leaping out from it and seeming to hang in the air for a fraction of a second before his hand grabbed one of Nenebeph’s stirrups and he hung, dangling from the leather like a fish caught by an eagle.
Corrigan’s loose fireball shot upward, lighting the night sky with an eerie magenta glow. In the after-light of it, I saw three things. The first was Nenebeph soaring ever-higher into the open sky, Leng hanging from his stirrup. The second was Prince Rakturan hitting Corrigan hard on the temple with the handle of his dagger, watching her body fall to the ground with a blank expression on his face. The third was Ahlskibi swooping in for a landing.
Chapter Twenty-One
Anyone who wasn’t staring at Leng and Savette was running and leaping from where I was, trying to avoid Ahlskibi’s mass as he dove to the ground, landing in a controlled skid across the garden terrace.
He hissed. His voice entered my mind so fast and hard that I flinched.
Mount. Now.
I wouldn’t have ignored him. I knew Leng was in trouble. I could see him out there, fighting while Tred tried to kick him off the stirrup. His muscles bunched and he pulled himself a little higher. I let go of the doorframe and single-leg-jumped towards Ahlskibi, crashing into him, but close enough that I could scramble, awkwardly onto his back. My leg wouldn’t go over, the dress was too tight. I clenched my jaw, grabbed the seam of the dress at the side and tore it up to my thigh. Much better. I scrambled onto his back. There was no saddle. My hands grew clammy and my belly felt weak. I’d never ridden without a saddle, and I’d never ridden any dragon but Raolcan. I didn’t trust him. He wasn’t my dragon.
I’ll gut him if he drops you. I’ll flame his eyes to dust.
Well, that seemed like an overreaction. I settled into his back, gripping the spikes along his neck with my hands. I couldn’t grip with my knees like they said horsemen did. Only one of my knees worked.
Dragon School: The Dark Prince Page 6