Fire Rider

by T M Miller

  Jaron stared. ‘Um, well yes, he did rescue me but Mum used to know him and they are good, err, friends,’ he swallowed under her shrewd gaze. ‘That’s probably it.’

  She nodded but it didn’t put her off. ‘So why–’

  ‘How’s it going in firedrake school?’ he interrupted.

  It worked. Her face broke into a broad grin, showing those dimples. ‘Great, I’m top of the class so Parl says. Of course, Tench is furious.’

  ‘Tench?’

  ‘He’s son of Thorel Rand, chief advisor to our Lord Carna,’ she added, on seeing his questioning look. ‘Tench thinks he’s better than anyone else so he’s really put out. Channon, the school firedrake?’ Jaron nodded. ‘She doesn’t like him, I can tell. She allows him on her back but she’s not quite so quick for him.’ Marla laughed, a surprisingly deep sound, Jaron thought.

  ‘So, when do you get your own firedrake?’ he asked, intent on keeping the conversation safely on the subject of flying school.

  ‘When the firedrake mothers return,’ she tucked her thick wavy hair behind one ear. It immediately sprang free again. ‘They fly off to lay their eggs at the nesting mountains and the scouts follow then keep an eye on them with their riders, who camp by the nests to help protect them. They incubate the eggs for four weeks until they hatch and it’s another six months of training before the drakel are strong enough to take a rider.’

  ‘Drakel?’

  ‘Young firedrake.’ Marla sat back, her eyes shining. ‘I can’t wait for mine! Scouts’ word is they should be here in about three weeks’ time.’

  Jaron found himself envying her and his feelings surprised him. ‘You choose your firedrake?’

  ‘And they choose us, well, the drakel chooses really. If a rider is rejected by the firedrake she or he picks, then nothing for it but to move on to the next one.’ She stopped talking and dimpled at Jaron, who couldn’t help but smile back. ‘So, if you’re joining us there’s not much time.’

  Jaron’s smile froze. ‘I’m sorry?’

  Marla’s grin became fixed in turn at the look on his face. She spoke carefully. ‘I mean, I was as surprised as anybody when Parl said we would be getting a new student so late in the course…’ She trailed off as Jaron stood up.

  ‘I think there must be some kind of mistake,’ he said, and despite himself he heard his words rasp.

  Marla stood as well and Jaron had forgotten she was slightly taller than him. ‘No, I don’t think so,’ she said, looking down at him and arching her ginger eyebrows.

  ‘Your teacher must have been talking about somebody else, I mean, did he mention me by name?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well then,’ Jaron said, relieved.

  ‘Parl said the injured boy who had been flown in on Madrag four weeks ago.’

  Jaron’s shoulders slumped and he sat down on his bed with a heavy thud.

  ‘Look, is there a problem here?’ Marla asked. ‘I mean, don’t you want to come to flying school?’ This last was said in absolute disbelief.

  Before Jaron could reply there came another knock and the door at the back of the cave opened to reveal Flick. ‘Marla! What are you doing up here?’ The girl gave a guilty start and a flush spread over her face as Flick strode over and stopped in front of them, putting his hands on his hips. ‘Students aren’t allowed up here, you know that, Marla. Have you been stealing Channon again? I wondered what she was doing perched on the walkway inside.’

  ‘She came to see me,’ Jaron said, standing up again to face Flick. He felt the need to protect his new friend. ‘I invited her.’

  Flick frowned. ‘Well, I suppose it’ll be okay – this time. You wouldn’t know, Jaron, but students aren’t allowed up on this level.’ His blue eyes narrowed. ‘Marla, you’d best get Channon back where she belongs. You know she’s old and it’s enough for her to be working with the students, let alone you flying her about out of classes. A good rider always thinks of her firedrake first.’

  Marla lowered her head further in shame, thick red hair falling like a rippled curtain across her face. ‘Yes, Lord Flick,’ she said and ducked past them both to the door. Behind Flick’s back her face broke into a cheeky grin. ‘Bye Jaron,’ and with a wink and a wave she was gone.

  ‘She wasn’t doing any harm,’ Jaron said.

  Flick was unrepentant. ‘She’s too cheeky by far that one. She took advantage of you, Jaron.’

  ‘Well, there’s not many people my own age I know round here.’ He folded his arms and eyed Flick. ‘Although I hear all that’s about to change.’

  The young man looked confused. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Apparently I’m to be enrolled in flying school?’

  ‘Ah, Parl must have told them.’ Flick’s tanned face broke into a grin. ‘Great, isn’t it? You’ll get the chance to make some new friends.’

  Jaron’s lips tightened. ‘I take it Lord Carna arranged it?’

  ‘Your uncle wanted to tell you himself, but that little madam got in first. Had we known you’d met her he wouldn’t have left anything to chance and told you sooner.’

  Jaron stared. ‘You know?’

  ‘What? Oh, about you being Lord Carna’s nephew? Of course!’ Flick grinned. ‘I can’t tell you how pleased I am, Jaron. You’re of Raken blood. I think I knew it from the first moment I saw you.’

  Jaron slumped down onto the bed. Flick sat down next to him. ‘Look, Jaron,’ he said. ‘I know it’s hard for you. Oh yes,’ he said, as the boy looked up in surprise. ‘Lord Carna and your mother told me what happened to you at the village. Your mother thought I should know, us being friends and all.’

  Friends. Jaron thought about it. Back in Tiara this personable young man had been a firedrake rider to avoid. Now, he realised how much he looked forward to his visits. He met Flick’s steady gaze.

  ‘I don’t mind you knowing, Flick. It’s just…’

  ‘What?’

  Jaron pushed himself off the bed and limped over to the open doors. He spoke looking out over the valley. ‘I feel ashamed, Flick.’

  ‘Of what?’ Flick was at his shoulder in an instant. ‘There’s nothing for you to be ashamed about.’ His voice was fierce.

  ‘I’m terrified of the beasts,’ he admitted in a hoarse whisper. ‘I’m scared of them, Flick, the firedrake. How can I make a life for myself here and stay with my mother when every time a firedrake flies over I feel like dropping to the floor and rolling into a ball?’

  ‘I’m not surprised, given the circumstances.’ Flick laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘You need to cut yourself a little slack, Jaron. No doubt I would be the same if I’d gone through what you went through.’

  ‘No, I don’t believe you would,’ Jaron said. Then a thought occurred to him and he turned to face the rider. ‘But you knew already how I felt, didn’t you?’ Flick nodded and Jaron sighed. ‘And I thought I’d covered it up pretty well.’

  Flick smiled. ‘I guessed. We’re kind of used to that reaction from anyone who doesn’t know the firedrake,’ he paused. ‘And Tarp and I heard you, one night… on watch.’

  He means the screaming. Embarrassed, Jaron looked away.

  ‘But the important thing is that you’re going to try. That’s right, isn’t it?’

  Jaron hesitated and at last nodded. ‘Yes, yes I am.’

  ‘Well then,’ Flick stepped back, rubbing his hands together in a brisk fashion. ‘We’d best get started.’

  ‘Started with what?’

  ‘Your first ride.’

  Jaron felt his chest constrict. ‘You don’t mean…’

  Flick’s smile was sympathetic. ‘Yes, I do, Jaron. Lord Carna wanted to do it himself but Rella thought it would be too much for you to fly a red just yet. He is the same colour as Brane, after all.’

  ‘Brane?’

  ‘Torrit’s firedrake.’ Flick was watching him carefully.

  Jaron stared. So Torrit’s red firedrake was called Brane. The beast who had razed the village and killed his st
epfather. His scarred chest burned against his shirt.

  ‘Jaron?’ Flick asked, his gaze concerned.

  ‘I’m alright,’ Jaron breathed.

  ‘With Tarp being smaller they thought it might be easier for you.’ Flick waited while Jaron digested all this and thought it through. ‘And I thought we could go looking for your kelpra.’

  ‘Caliber?’ Not a day had gone by without Jaron wondering about him. He chewed his lip. Caliber had saved him from the Ernots, had fought for him. He had to know what had happened to him. At last he looked up at a watching Flick and nodded yes.

  Flick grinned. ‘Alright then! I’ll go and get Tarp.’ Flick strode out the room but was immediately back again, carrying a fleece-lined leather jacket. ‘Here,’ he handed it to Jaron. ‘It can get cold in the air. I brought this for you.’ In a daze, Jaron took it. The jacket was heavy. ‘Won’t be long,’ Flick said.

  Left alone, Jaron stared down at the jacket. No doubt Flick had put it in the tunnel on his way in. First hearing about flying school and now this, he felt manipulated; a pawn. Jaron threw the jacket on the bed and clenched and unclenched his fists. His palms started to sweat and he took a deep breath. He couldn’t back out, not now. His pride wouldn’t allow it and he owed it to Caliber to do this. He squared his shoulders. It was time for lesson two.

  16

  Jaron pulled on his boots and put on the jacket. Then he took it off again because he felt too hot. He was sweating and not only from wearing the heavy fleece-lined coat. He limped back and forth, slapping his thigh to centre himself. It occurred to him that Flick was leaving him time to get prepared, for he could have just whistled for Tarp from Jaron’s ledge. The more he thought about what he was about to do, the more he found he couldn’t breathe. He stopped and bent over to put his hands on his knees, forcing himself to take deep juddering breaths. Think of lesson one, you touched him, remember? Touched a firedrake, a big flaming beast of a red firedrake. And you have flown before. But Jaron knew he was kidding himself. When Lord Carna had rescued him and forced him onto Madrag it was only a short time before he passed out. No, this would be his first flight. The one that counted. If he could do it.

  ‘Jaron?’ Flick’s voice caused Jaron to jump and he hurriedly straightened from his bent position. Tarp was hovering just outside, long neck turned and green eyes watching him. Jaron stared. Sitting behind the young rider was Lord Carna and even from here Jaron could see his etched frown. The boy noticed Flick was also looking at him with some concern and he forced a smile and moved closer to the entrance even though his legs were shaking.

  ‘I’ll get Tarp to land,’ Flick warned him and the firedrake swung closer to the ledge. Jaron glimpsed the brown underbelly just before Tarp landed. The firedrake furled his wings and swung his head so it was on the threshold of Jaron’s room. A rumbling came from his chest as the eyes fixed unblinking on his.

  ‘Good morning, Jaron,’ Lord Carna said as he slid off. Jaron gave a short bow from where he now stood further back in his room. Flick had dismounted and gone to turn Tarp’s head. He grinned over at Jaron. ‘Tarp said hello,’ he called.

  ‘Uh, hello Tarp,’ Jaron’s voice sounded unnaturally high to his own ears. Carna had stepped into his room and was now waiting for him, a riding helmet dangling from one hand. As Jaron forced his legs to move closer he caught the grim set of the Raken lord’s face. It made him feel even more uneasy; was what he was going to do that dangerous?

  ‘I’m sorry, Jaron,’ Carna said as he approached. ‘You were told I had made arrangements for you to start flying school.’ The boy caught the flash of the other’s eyes and realised the Raken lord was fuming. ‘I would have liked to have given you more time and it should have come from me or your mother.’

  ‘Well, it did come as a bit of a shock.’

  Carna’s jaw muscles tensed. ‘I will have words with Parl and see the girl is punished for her indiscretion.’

  ‘Oh, no please,’ Jaron held up his hands in denial. ‘There’s been no real harm done, I would have only been told of it later.’ The last thing he wanted to do was to get Marla into trouble.

  But Carna was not to be put off. ‘No one is allowed at this level without permission, least of all a student.’

  ‘I was glad to have her company.’ Jaron swallowed under the lord’s scrutiny. ‘And it will help to know at least one person when I start.’

  ‘So you agree?’

  Jaron was perplexed. ‘Agree – I don’t understand.’

  Carna crossed his arms. ‘To enter flying school?’

  ‘Err, I suppose so.’ He saw Carna’s hard-flinted gaze soften and found he didn’t feel quite so well disposed towards Marla now that he had lost his chance to get out of it. He looked across at the waiting Tarp. The firedrake was rubbing his head against Flick’s shoulder, causing the young man to stagger then brace himself against his green to stay on his feet.

  Carna held out the helmet. Reluctantly Jaron took it, surprised at its lightness. It lacked the leather plume that the riders often wore but leather bands were braided all over its surface. Jaron ran his fingers over the woven leather and felt the hard skull of the helmet beneath. At the front, just above the eye level, was a ridge of hard clear material; he supposed to keep the wind out of his eyes.

  He put it on and Carna stepped forward to do up the chin strap as if he were a child and pulled out a pair of thick sheepskin gloves from where they had been tucked into his belt. He handed them to Jaron. ‘Ready?’ he asked. Hardly, Jaron thought, but he pulled on the gloves and managed to nod. Carna wasted no more time. Taking Jaron’s arm, he marched him the last few yards to Tarp’s side, who yawned, stretching his maw wide. Jaron made to pull back but the lord’s hand on his upper arm prevented him.

  ‘We’ve put a double saddle on for you,’ Carna was saying and Jaron forced his eyes away from Tarp’s fearsome looking teeth. ‘See the straps there? You will be quite safe.’ Jaron stared at the leather straps with hooks on their ends attached to the empty seat. Flick handed Carna a wide belt Jaron hadn’t noticed he was holding and before he had time to think anymore Carna had bent down and was buckling him into it. It jangled a little and, looking down, Jaron saw metal rings were attached to the leather. He cast a wary eye at the firedrake who was again rubbing his head up and down Flick’s back, nearly knocking the rider over.

  ‘Flick!’ Carna’s voice rapped out directly below Jaron’s chin, making him jump. ‘Keep Tarp still.’

  Flick looked shamefaced and whipped round to raise a hand palm out towards the firedrake, who instantly became statue-like. The young rider vaulted on to the firedrake’s back, settled himself and looked down at Jaron with a broad grin. Jaron couldn’t return it. Next moment he was being led to the firedrake’s side, the massive belly rising and falling. Distracted by the nearness of the beast, Jaron jumped as Carna put his hands on his waist, obviously with the intention of putting him on. Tarp lifted a foreleg, his huge wing helpfully moving further back out of the way. The boy eyed the seat on the saddle destined for him. A sudden wave of panic threatened to choke him. ‘No, wait,’ he squeaked and tried to prise Carna’s hands from his waist. ‘I need more time.’

  ‘The time is now,’ Carna’s voice came into his ear just before he lifted him like he was no weight at all and, with Jaron trapped in his arms, stepped up onto Tarp’s leg. Jaron had no time to register the scales filling his sight before Carna boosted him up. He landed chest first over the saddle and the air went out of his lungs in a whoosh. A glimpse of the green membrane of the wing folded just below – then Carna was pushing at his legs and before he knew it he was forced to grab hold of the saddle and awkwardly swing a leg over in the cramped space to settle behind Flick. A small squeak come out of his throat. He saw Carna was standing at his knee while balancing on Tarp’s raised leg, his hands busily clipping Jaron’s belt to the straps. Before he knew what he was about, Jaron clutched at the lord’s forearm. Carna looked up and gave him a rare reassuring smile. ‘R
ella and I will be here when you return,’ he said. The lord prised Jaron’s hand free, stepped down from Tarp’s raised foreleg, and gave a nod to Flick.

  Tarp half unfurled his wings and Carna’s face was obscured by the membrane as it stretched out. Jaron could see the long bones that ran just under the skin extending like huge skeletal fingers. The boy took a firm hold of Flick’s jacket as the firedrake started to waddle round in a turn on the ledge with wings still half-raised.

  The basin floor spread out before them, hemmed in by the mountain range. From Tarp’s back, it looked even further down. Jaron gulped then leaned forward to wind his arms tight around Flick’s waist. There Jaron crouched, eyes now tight closed as he waited for the inevitable boost up into the air. He felt Tarp’s body beneath him dip slightly. Despite himself, he opened his eyes – just as Tarp stepped off the ledge, and dropped.

  ‘Ah!’ Jaron’s stomach lurched up. A sound like a bed sheet catching the wind and his belly slumped back. The boy turned his face to press it against Flick’s back and wondered if the young rider could feel his heart hammering.

  After a moment, the unexpected lack of movement made Jaron lift his head despite his fear. The wing membrane beside him was stretched fully out as it rode the wind, making slight adjustments in the air. Jaron could see the mauves and blues that ran along the green wing from the midday sun, the veins ridged along its surface. Jaron shifted to look down over the firedrake’s shoulder. Far below, he could see the green of the mountain valley and the mirror of the sun’s light as it caught the river that ran along its length. He swallowed.

  ‘Alright?’ Flick had half-turned his face towards him.

  ‘We’re not moving,’ Jaron tried to keep the panic from his voice. ‘Why aren’t we falling?’

  ‘The wind and air pressure rising up the mountainside is keeping us here. Tarp just has to make minor adjustments to stay up. Best to take it slowly, I thought,’ he grinned. ‘So now we fly.’ Flick faced front and leaned slightly forward. The firedrake’s wings flapped once as he glided away from the mountain. Jaron hunkered down further as the wing rose right next to him, fearful lest it come further across and knock him off; he didn’t trust the straps entirely.