Marked by Dragon's Blood (Return of the Dragonborn Book 1)

by N. M. Howell

  She pointed to a train of silver and gold that was just pulling off from the tiny station in the middle of a vast interior park.

  “Down that way is distress training. Farther on is dangerous species, which is the adjacent wing to extinct species.”

  “Like dragons,” Andie muttered.

  “Like dragons,” Carmen agreed, squinting at Andie from the corner of her eye. “That way is for years past the Academy. That hallway to the far left... well, I don’t know what that is, but I’d steer clear. So, how do you feel?”

  “It’s nothing like what I could’ve imagined. I’ve heard stories from my father, even seen pictures, but this is different. Huge. I mean really, really huge. I never made it past the front office yesterday. I feel... kind of insignificant.”

  “Great. You’re already fitting in. Although tomorrow lose the I’m-a-cute-country-girl aura. You’ll never get any worthwhile guys with this material,” she said, having another long look at Andie. “Speaking of, if you’re thinking about staying around here after dark to make out with a warlock hottie, think again. This place locks down when the moon comes up and the security is insane.”

  “Insane?”

  “Yeah. I mean animated soldiers of steel and immobilizing mist among others. You ever hear of matrices?”

  Of course, she had. How could she ever forget those terrible things?

  “Yeah. I’ve heard of them,” she said, looking away.

  “Well, that’s me,” Carmen said.

  “What is?”

  “Oh, you can’t hear it? I forgot what it was like to be new here.”

  Carmen reached over to touch Andie’s forehead and traced a small circle. A shot ran through Andie’s head and then the sweetest, most alluring song Andie had ever heard rushed through her mind and senses.

  “Hear that?” Carmen asked. “That’s the siren’s call. It’ll take you where you need to go. What’s yours anyway?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t even know I had one.”

  “Yeah. We can listen to each other’s, but everyone has their own individual call. I thought it was supposed to be something beautiful, but mine sounds almost like some sort of horn. I guess I got the short stick. See ya, haybale.”

  Carmen bounded away and Andie was left to fend for herself. She kept listening to the song, but it didn’t sound like a horn. It must be her own call. She turned a couple times trying to find which direction the song was coming from. When she caught it she just followed it. It was the easiest, most satisfying thing in the world.

  The siren’s call led her on a winding path into the Academy and around its many corners. It felt right and yet she couldn’t understand it; it felt good, even, but she couldn’t imagine anything capable of making so sweet a sound. It was like music and laughter and waterfall all together. It was the single most beautiful sound she’d ever heard. It seemed extravagant to have a specific call for each student, especially when considering that there were six hundred thousand of them.

  Andie turned right and found herself walking into a classroom. She was smiling softly, lost in the beauty of the call, and so for a moment she didn’t notice where she was. After she’d been standing there some moments she began to look around as her mind focused. This wasn’t History of Magic in Noelle. There were potions, bubbling pots, strange and cloying smells, assorted pieces of animals, and hundreds of vials. It was a potions class and she was in the wrong place. She apologized profusely and had to duck several times to avoid the giant, rotating ball of viscous liquid the professor was floating in front of the class.

  Back in the hallway she heard the call again. on and on she went, eventually being led out into a garden on the mountainside. Here again Andie was happily surprised: there were thousands and thousands of gorgeous, luminous blooms in the garden, every imaginable flower in every imaginable variety. They were sprouting, hanging, twisting, draping, creeping, and even floating. They were in every color Andie had ever heard of and many she didn’t even know were possible; some even changed color. Buzzing among the blooms and falling petals were skops, similar to faeries except skops tended flowers and only lived for about 12 days. Right before Andie was a row that must have been at least half a kilometer long; it was brimming with pearlescent flowers that were rising and falling over and over again. As Andie drew closer she saw that they were actually dying and blooming again in an endless cycle that lasted only a matter of moments.

  Shaking herself out of the daze of beauty, Andie began to run. Her class had definitely started by now and she had no idea if she was even close to it. There would be plenty of time to explore the Academy later, if she wasn’t expelled first. It was of the absolute highest importance that she get to class. She was running as hard as she could, weaving through and under the flowers that were everywhere. Her foot caught on something and she fell, all of her force slamming her chest first into the ground. Her breath fled her. She coughed, having breathed in some dust, and turned.

  There was a pair of legs sticking out from under a tangle of roots and peach-colored blooms. The legs got up on their knees and the knees scooted backward out of the roots. A torso appeared. Then a head. Soon the complete figure was standing over Andie and he was perfect. He reached out a hand to help her up.

  “Were you looking for me?”

  Chapter Five

  Andie was so stunned by him—his chiseled, sweating frame, handsome face, and eyes deeper and kinder than any she’d ever seen—that at first she couldn’t speak, couldn’t even understand that he was trying to help her to her feet. Seeing she wasn’t focusing, he bent down and grabbed her by her shoulders, firmly but gently. He lifted her to her feet and only then did Andie fall back into reality.

  “I’m Tarven, a student advisor,” he said. “You must be my new recruit. I’ve been looking for you.”

  “Um, I don’t know. I’m not even sure where I am.”

  “This is the Academy. You are a sorceress, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. I mean I don’t know where in the Academy I am. What side of the mountain are we on?”

  “West. This garden is Victory, the designated garden of the University and the city. I look after it sometimes. I’m really into hortological magic.”

  “Plant magic,” Andie said. “Cool.”

  “Yeah, I think so. I don’t really know how I got into it, though. I was born and raised in Arvall City where everything’s stone or glass or iron. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve traveled all over Noelle with my family, but always in urban centers. You’d think I’d want to have little to do with actual nature, but it turned out to be something I was really passionate about.”

  “I’ve never met anyone who could do plant magic before,” she said, trying to remind herself to focus on his eyes. “How does it work, exactly?”

  “Hortological magic is all about understanding the life of the plant. The breath of its stem, the depth of its bloom, the fragility of its petal. It’s about wanting to see the plant grow, not wanting to control it, even though through this kind of magic you can control the plant.”

  “Like the ones I saw coming in, dying and blooming.”

  “Exactly. I’ve studied magic my whole life and never come across anything as noble and undervalued as plants.”

  “We share similar sentiments in Michaelson. We still depend on crops out there. Are you the only one with that kind of magic here?”

  “Well there’s bound to be at least a couple more in a student body of hundreds of thousands. Speaking of, tell me about yourself. I’ve heard of Michaelson. It’s one of the little farming towns north of here, right?”

  “Yeah. Well, I’m nineteen and this is my first day at the Academy. I’m here because I need to learn control.”

  She had no idea why she told him that.

  “I’m highly sensitive to other people’s pain,” she continued, “I believe people don’t care enough about their own history, and I want to be a researcher when I graduate.”

  “That’s great. But
I think you’re late.”

  “Oh, no!”

  She’d completely forgotten about getting to class. It was so nice talking to him, so nice having a normal conversation with a normal—and attractive—person who didn’t know about her family history. About her father. Class was probably halfway over by now. She picked up the books that had come out of her back and began jogging off. But she didn’t know which way to go anymore. The siren’s call had ended. She turned and turned trying to pick up the trail again.

  All of a sudden, she felt a wave of magic rushed through her. She checked her icon for a warning, but there was nothing. When she looked up again the entire garden was on fire.

  “Did I do that?” she asked, horrified.

  “No,” Tarven said. “I did.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s kind of my job. This is your first test. If you don’t pass it, I’m afraid you’ll have to go. Sink or swim here, Andie. Put it out or get out. Consider it a fire drill.”

  She was taken aback. She had no idea how to control her magic aside from a handful of small spells and charms; she’d spent her entire life forcing herself to hold back, suppress her natural ability. Now this guy wanted her to master her skills without warning. Impossible. The reason she was there was to learn control, focus, and expansion and yet it seemed her journey was over before it began. The fire blazed brighter and hotter by the second. All it would take was one wrong move to accidentally tap into her dragon magic and ruin everything she’d been trying to hide since she was born.

  “You have to help me,” she said, turning to Tarven and pleading. “Please. I don’t have this kind of control over myself yet. It’s the whole reason I’m here.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m not allowed. This is your test, Andie. Yours. I could feel your power the moment you walked in. One of the gifts of studying hortological magic. You can do this. And I’d love if you could stop the fire before it destroys the rose hip. I was going to use that for a pretty amazing spell later on.”

  She walked away a few paces and closed her eyes, trying to focus. She tried to calm herself, the way her mother used to teach her to do when she was a little girl and would get scared or frustrated. And then it dawned on her. Dragons are drawn to fire—it calms them, makes them feel safe, can even heal them in certain situations. She had dragon blood running in her veins. She stretched her hands out to her sides and then it began to fill her: the peace of the flames. She began to feel more powerful, more brave as the flames grew around her. It was almost as if the flames were calling to her. She needed a balance. She needed to embrace the flames and their power without succumbing to the dragon magic.

  For the first time, she noticed the other people in the garden. Not many, but enough to make a small crowd. They were pushing together into a little group, trying to avoid the flames and also trying to watch Andie to see what she would do. She wondered if they were forbidden from helping, too. they were staring at her wide-eyed, no doubt wondering why she felt so at ease so close to flames. She didn’t even feel the heat. But she couldn’t reveal that to Tarven. She tried to focus, knowing that if she failed this first task not only would she be kicked out of the Academy, she would also hurt her father. And worse, if she pushed her own magic back down far enough so that the flames burned her as proof that she wasn’t immune, she would hurt herself in front of Tarven and who knows what her body would have done to naturally heal itself. That was not something he or anyone here could see. The panic began to rise again, but she listened to the flames and remained calm. She took a moment to close her eyes and think.

  “Water,” she whispered. “Water is in the plants.”

  She reached out toward the plants on either side of her and flexed her fingers. Every stem and bloom stood straight up. She made fists of her hands and all the plants leaned over toward her, releasing every ounce of moisture they had and turning brown, then black in the process. When all the water had been collected in floating pools above her, she used her powers to magnify it and then made it rain inside the garden. Within moments, the fire had been extinguished.

  “Very impressive,” Tarven said, smiling at her. “And look, you saved the rose hip.”

  For a moment, Andie couldn’t focus. She was reeling a bit from the loss of the flames. All their comfort, promise, and power had fled with them. Her hands stayed in the air beside her for a moment.

  “Andie. Andie, are you okay?” Tarven asked, laying a hand on her shoulder.

  She snapped back into the moment, the garden, the circumstance.

  She stood still, silent for a moment, and then reeled. “What kind of twisted games are you playing here?” she roared, rounding on Tarven and locking eyes with him. “You could have burned me to dead. I could’ve died! I’m a first-year Academy student who hasn’t even taken one class. I don’t even have control of my magic, yet, Tarven. What if I’d lost control? Do you have any idea what could have happened?”

  Andie’s heart pounded in her chest as her mind raced with the thought of what would have happened has she actually lost control and hurt herself. Her dragon’s magic would have healed her, of course, and had she been at home or somewhere isolated it wouldn’t have been a problem. But in front of another person, especially in the University, that was the most dangerous thing she would possibly think of happening to her here. She swallowed and cleared her throat, all the while glaring at Tarven in front of her.

  Tarven held up his hands to calm her, but he took a few steps back. He claimed to be able to sense her power. He surely must’ve known to treat her carefully in that moment.

  “Okay, easy now. I’m not allowed to interfere as long as the situation is controllable and it looks like you still have a chance to complete the task. Rest assured, no one was going to burn alive today and I would’ve been right here if something had gone wrong with your magic. Also, your icon measures your distress levels and if it had gotten too high the entire school board would have teleported in. There was never any real danger, Andie. I promise.”

  Andie rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands as she inhaled a deep breath an exhaled slowly. She hadn’t even been to her first class yet, and she had nearly revealed herself. What was she doing here? She was in way over her head. “You just pushed it too far, okay?”

  “It wasn’t like-”

  “Just…Don’t do anything like that to me again. I wasn’t ready.”

  “I’m so sorry, Andy. It was just a test. From the moment you walked in I knew you would have been able to handle it just fine.”

  Andy felt stupid and angry, not so much with him as with herself. She would need to prepare herself for surprises like this. She couldn’t afford to slip up. Her life depending on this. “Well, you were wrong.”

  Tarven was silent then. He kept opening his mouth to respond, but something told Andie that he hadn’t even fully considered the circumstances, which was even worse because he went along with the plan without thinking for himself. Andie shook her head.

  “Well, I’ll say one thing for my first day at the Academy,” she said. “At least it hadn’t been dull.” She managed a half laugh at that, and Tarven nearly smiled in return. His smile quickly turned to a frown when her expression turned back to one of utter seriousness.

  “Well, goodbye, then.” With that she turned to leave, mumbling a few awkward parting words about going to the library to prepare for her next class.

  Chapter Six

  Andy took the long way around, relishing in the cool fresh air that calmed her as she walked. She shook her head at how stupid and ill prepared she had been. Next time, she would be more confident. She would need to learn how to handle surprises and stressful situations without the risk of drawing on her dragon’s blood magic. She didn’t have a choice. When she reached the end of the path, she turned and headed back towards the building.

  She’d barely made it back inside when she realized she had no idea where to find her class. This place was massive and going on an exploratory walk w
ould waste time she didn’t have. She squeezed her eyes shut in concentration and rubbed her temples with her fingers, doing her best to think of a plan. She couldn’t be late. Her eyes flashed open when an idea struck her. She held up her palm and used the opposite hand to press down on the light where the icon was. She closed her eyes and thought of the library. Sure enough, within seconds she could hear the siren’s call. She opened her eyes and began to walk.

  It took a while to find it, what with dodging the Mountain Faeries, weaving through the seemingly endless crowds, and listening in on other student’s siren’s call out of curiosity. When she finally found it, there was no mistaking it. The doors had to be at least fifty feet tall, made of what looked like Bleak Oak - wood as black as the night sky - inlaid with gold. The gold had been laid in fractal patterns of exploding curves, and, as Andie neared the doors, she could see the patterns were moving. She couldn’t help smiling as she pushed open the door, which, even with its great size, was as easy to open as a regular size door.

  She couldn’t believe it. She was finally there. Leabherlann. The largest and best of the world’s repositories. There was no library, no archive, no collection anywhere on the face of the earth that could rival that one. Leabherlann wasn’t even half as old as most of the other libraries, yet it was the greatest. Unparalleled. Andie had been desperate to get there. Inside were rows upon rows of gold and granite desks, lined up straight down the center of the room and going back so long that Andie couldn’t see the end; above them were many, many more floors all with the same incredibly long rows. At first, she thought the other floors were floating, but then she remembered that those were the famous invisible floors of the library. To the right and left of the desks were the collections themselves, stone cases that were so tall it was said they rose hundreds of feet up into the mountain. It had been said that there was no subject, no personage, no branch of magic or its study that could not be found within those great walls. If it wasn’t there, it probably didn’t exist. Andie took several minutes to absorb the majesty of the place and then she headed for the main desk, a grandiose gold and silver dais whose powerful and beautiful turning gears were as much for function as for embellishment. The entire thing was placed in a sunken area in the center of the space.