by Jada Fisher
Finally, the other girl reacted, her face flushing. “You wouldn’t.”
“Why not, you’re the one who made this mess, right?”
“It… It was Solomon! He refuses to train his hatchling.”
The biggest of the guys, who was just picking himself up off the ground, sputtered. “Me!? You’re the one who made me carry around a bucket—”
Ukrah smirked, sensing a whole argument was about to begin, and went to grab her little guy.
Hah, not bad. Turning them against each other.
Ukrah didn’t say anything, but she nodded. Crispin, however, seemed enraptured by the chaos, and she had to grab his hand to pull him away. They were going to have to go the long way around, so she preferred to get out of earshot of what was sure to be a doozy of a falling out as quickly as she could.
“That was amazing, you know that, right?” Crispin said once they were far enough.
She shrugged. “You probably shouldn’t assault my classmates. Especially not when one of my professors has specifically addressed that.”
“I guess so. But I feel like if we let them keep walking all over us, things will never improve.”
“You know what they say, it has to get worse before it gets better.”
“They do? Sounds depressing.”
They reached their door, and she was surprised when he stopped, placing one of his large, skinny hands on her shoulder. “I know you could have really, really hurt those kids, and you didn’t. That’s something to be proud of, because they were right cads.”
“They really are, aren’t they?” she answered with a small smile, feeling the warm glow of approval soak through her.
She was still scared of whatever it was inside of her that made her destroy people, and it still felt like it could take over at any moment, but she hoped that the whole thing was a sign that she was growing.
She could only hope.
5
What’s in a Name?
Surprisingly, her tactic of using the staff of the academy to threaten Melithindre into behaving a bit more worked. Also, her little clique of worshipers seemed to have mostly abandoned her, going from a solid group of almost ten to about three.
Although she and Crispin still weren’t ‘welcome’ by any stretch of the word, people were certainly less antagonistic, and Ukrah found herself enjoying how much less energy she had to put into surviving each day.
The days began to pass more quickly, and she felt as if any day could be the one she met her little guy. It wasn’t something she could quite explain. It was just a simmering feeling full of anticipation and hope.
And yet each night went by without a hatchling, and she would wake up with her egg still at her bedside.
“Hey, haven’t you heard? This is supposed to be your day off. Do they not have that in the desert?”
Ukrah looked up from the scroll she was reading to see Eist standing in her doorway, dressed in a simple jerkin and some breeches. Her white hair was pulled into a bun atop her head, making her look more feminine than Ukrah was used to seeing her.
“This might be my last visit for a while,” she said, leaning against the door.
“Oh?” Ukrah placed her scroll to the side. “Are you going on a mission?”
She chuckled at that. “Hardly. I’m just starting to show, and I don’t really want people to know just now.”
Ukrah tilted her head. Birth was always a cause for celebration for her people. “Why?”
She made a vague gesture. “I’m not entirely sure. Maybe it’s because so much of my life has become common knowledge that I just want to hold onto this little bit of privacy that I have.”
“I would have thought it was for your protection,” Crispin said, coming up behind her with a tray full of food. Normally, meals weren’t really supposed to leave the cafeteria, but when Braddock heard how much extra Ukrah had to study because she was still learning how to write and read common tongue, he’d taken to sending Crispin to her with quite a spread on their days off. It was so sweet, and it really did give her extra time to get more work in. “If people know the god-woman is indisposed, maybe they’ll try things they normally wouldn’t. Or even think it’s a good time for revenge.”
“The god-woman?” Eist repeated in confusion before a look of resignation and disappointment crossed her face. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.” Ukrah felt a flash of guilt as the woman hastily changed the subject. “Since when has there been a meal service here?” Eist asked, chuckling and grabbing a biscuit from the top because she’d be insane not to. “How’s your stomach holding up, by the way?”
“My what?”
You were run through with an arrow. Remember? Tayir said, swooping in from the window and also scooping up a biscuit. They were lucky that Braddock had sent her so many, or she might have started swinging just like she had to break up Crispin and Melithindre’s gang.
“It’s fine. The scar hurts when the weather’s bad, but that’s about it.”
“Good, good. No reopening? No tears?” Ukrah shook her head and the god-woman collapsed into the only chair in the room.
“That’s good! I’ve never seen anybody heal so fast from an abdominal wound. I thought the training here at first might have been too difficult for it, but Ale’a tells me that you never have trouble with that aspect.”
“I have found that my day-to-day life has helped me greatly with all the physical endurance needed here.”
“That makes sense. I hear the wilds are better since the Blight left and took all the abominations with it, but it’s still not an easy world to live in.” Her eyes leveled with Ukrah. “Do you ever worry about getting soft?”
Ukrah raised her brow, unsure of what that meant. “I…have always been a slight bit soft. I’m stocky, built to survive.”
“That’s not what I meant. I meant do you ever wonder if this place is making you weaker rather than strengthening you?”
Ah, now that was a question that Ukrah didn’t know the answer to. She paused, considering, trying to give an honest answer.
“I’m not entirely sure. I am learning things, important things. And Ale’a pushes me to be stronger, but it’s not nearly as difficult as when we sparred together at your manor.
“Reading and writing is its own power, and I can see how this will help me, but it’s not easy and I feel like I’m already behind so many people.”
“I see. Those are all fair points. Sometimes I worry that maybe this was a mistake, and I pushed you to follow my path too much.”
“…I worry about that too sometimes.”
Eist chuckled at that, nibbling her biscuit. “Well, this is what happens when you stop flying by the seat of your pants and start trying to have a thought process. On my next nameday, I’m going to wish that I could have the same reckless confidence I had when I was younger.”
Ukrah nodded, her mouth full of food. She didn’t know what the woman meant, but it sounded reasonable enough, and the food in her lap was too delicious to ignore.
“Speaking of which, when are your namedays? Perhaps I can have Braddock make you a pie or a cake. He’d probably be over the moon for it.”
“Uh…” Crispin said, his eyes shifting back and forth. “I, uh, don’t really know my nameday.”
“What is a nameday?” Ukrah asked, swallowing finally.
Eist stared at her blankly for a solid beat before shaking her head and continuing. “Please tell me the both of you are joking.”
Ukrah waited for Crispin to speak first, hoping he would give her some clue as to what a nameday was and why there were sweets involved.
“Eh, I remember celebrating it when I was younger, but then my pa died after he got a nasty infection and it just seemed wrong to celebrate anything after that. Not that there was much to celebrate with other than a cookie nipped from the kitchen.”
“Ah, right. I’m sorry.” Eist sighed. “For all the things I’ve seen, I still forget how terribly some lords treat their servants.
It’s not supposed to be like a legal version of slavery.” She chewed her lip for a moment. “Maybe that will be the next thing I set out to change.”
“Maybe you should have your babe first, Lady W’allenhaus. That sounds awful stressful.” Crispin shuddered slightly, and she was pretty sure he was remembering the guards that came to fetch him.
“I still am not sure what a nameday is. Is this a ceremony where you’re given a…new name?” Ukrah asked. Had Crispin not always been Crispin? Had Eist not always been Eist? That didn’t make sense.
Don’t ask me. I’ve never heard of it. Must be a human thing.
“What, birds don’t have name-days?” Crispin retorted, causing the god-woman to give him a strange look.
“What?”
“Uh, nothing. I was just spouting off.”
“…right. Anyway, a nameday is a celebration of the day you were born, and that you managed to survive another year. It’s supposed to be a fun, happy day where everyone treats you extra nice.”
“Oh,” Ukrah said, thinking that over. “…that does sound nice.”
Eist nodded and seemed to recover from the shock. “So, wait, what you’re telling me is that one of you hasn’t had a nameday since you can remember and the other one of you has never had one at all?”
“That does about seem to be the situation, Lady W’allenhaus,” Crispin said with a wink.
“Well, that won’t do at all,” she said with a frown. “I’m not going to let my charges go without a nameday.” The women’s expression turned resolute and she nodded determinedly. “That’s it then. We’re throwing a nameday celebration for the two of you. Next week should give me enough time to plan all of it out. Something small, intimate, with only your friends here. Tell me, which kids aren’t little monsters?”
Ukrah and Crispin shared another look. While there were a handful of friendly initiates that they talked to every once in a while, she couldn’t think of a single one she was close enough with to invite to something as important sounding as a nameday celebration.
“Huh, really?” Eist said after a tick too much of silence. “That bad, huh?”
Ukrah attempted what she hoped was a shrug, but she ran out of momentum halfway through it. “I spend most of my time studying and practicing my reading and writing while they’re working on training dragons that have actually hatched.”
Eist huffed in a way that told Ukrah she completely saw through that, but she was nice enough not to argue. “Alright then, no younglings. I bet if I asked Braddock, he’d be nice enough to let us have it in his tavern.”
“I thought he had a bakery.”
“Both, actually. Athar helped sponsor him for the first and that did so well that he opened up the tavern all on his own. It’s actually pretty amazing how far that man has come. Maybe if Athar hadn’t snatched me up, I’d be making doe eyes at him.” She threw her head back and laughed. “Don’t tell Athar that. He gets awfully self-conscious sometimes and is under the impression that he doesn’t deserve me.”
“I… Why would I tell him that?” Ukrah asked in confusion.
“It’s just an expression. Anyway, obviously our whole little family is coming—”
Ukrah’s heart skipped a beat and she did her best to stay very still while her emotions flared within her. Family. Their whole little family.
It sung in her, bright and happy and accepted, making her eyes sting a bit. For years, she had felt like a burden. A young orphan with mediocre hunting skills and a knack with the staff wasn’t exactly a boon to her people. She’d known Eist, a literal legend, for less than a year, and the woman had already fed her, clothed her, and decreed her as kin. It was… It was certainly a heady feeling.
“I’ll invite Ale’a too, maybe see if Elspeth is back, introduce you to Fjorin. I wonder if Ale’a can bring what’s left of the outer riders I flew with for a couple years…” the woman continued to talk to herself, voice going soft as she got more and more into the plan. Ukrah knew better than to interrupt, and she looked to Crispin, who was picking at his plate, eyes suspiciously red.
Ah, so he knew it too. The feeling of being unbelonging, unwanted for so long, of being a burden, and then being swept away in the torrent of peace that came from Eist’s offhanded comment.
Why is the air so heavy in here? Ugh, human emotions are taxing. I’m going back outside where the coop is.
Ukrah ignored the bird, as she was often wont to do, and returned to her food. For all the bad that was happening around her, all the stress from the other students, it couldn’t nearly compare to all the wonderful things in her life.
Who would have thought, that day when she fled her empty village only to run into slavers, that she would end up on a path that would lead her to a real family, who didn’t view her as a curse or abomination? She certainly hadn’t ever thought that was possible.
And it seemed like she had even more to look forward to.
In the end, it took about a week and a half for Eist to declare that she had everything planned, but then they had to wait until the next two-day break for them to actually celebrate. At first, Ukrah had just been content with the feeling of acceptance she had been filled with, but that had quickly grown into a mild streak of curiosity and anticipation. Then that had grown into all-out excitement, so by the time the actual day rolled around, she was practically vibrating with energy.
“You alright?” Athar asked as they headed into town. She had half-expected them to take a carriage in, but it was Lord W’allenhaus that had shown up at her door and said he was there to escort them to their party.
Ukrah remembered when she’d first met the couple, she had thought that Eist had taken his family name as was tradition here. But apparently Athar had taken her legacy on when they wed. She didn’t know why that made her happy, but it was a pleasant little factoid she liked to think of every now and then.
And contemplating it was the only thing that kept her from getting antsy as they went deeper into the city. Well, that and Estelle waddling along beside them. It was strange to think of such an easygoing, lovable dragon being a beast of war, but she had the scars to prove that she had seen many a thing. It reminded her a bit of both the W’allenhauses in a way.
“I know it was months ago that those guards snatched me, and none of them are alive to find me again,” Crispin said as they walked through the crowded streets. “But I can’t help but feel like I’m on edge.”
“Well, I can promise you that no one is waiting right inside the door to pop out and yell surprise,” Athar said.
Ukrah paused mid-step. “Do… Do people do that?”
“Occasionally, but we’ve never really been t-t-the type to appreciate random folks jumping out at us w-w-without warning.”
“Huh, I’d love to see the fellow who jolts you without a warning,” Crispin muttered, kicking at a rock.
“I’m not really the one people have to worry about. Eist is.”
That actually startled Ukrah into a laugh. “You know what, I can see that.” If only the god-woman had been around to deal with those bullies. Not that Ukrah needed her to handle them for her…but it would have been pretty satisfying to see what she would have done to put Melithindre and her minions in place.
“We’re almost th-there,” Athar said as they moved into the most crowded part of the city, one she recognized as the ring of streets right outside of the walls that surrounded what had once been the grand castle of the Lord of the House, but now was Dille’s home and where the witch refugees stayed. And just a few minutes later, they arrived at a nice-looking tavern.
Well, Ukrah didn’t actually know what constituted a ‘nice’ tavern or not, but it looked good to her. And that feeling only continued as she went inside, the plethora of windows making the place bright and cheery while several people she knew turned to greet them.
It wasn’t overwhelming, as she had feared it would be, but rather reaffirming as they walked through the room, Athar making sure they saw each pers
on and had a small conversation with them. That actually took a good bulk of time considering that pretty much everyone Eist had told them about had shown up.
Including, of course, Ale’a.
She was in conversation with a rough-looking man when she turned to them, a bright smile on her face. Her normally sensibly-braided hair was loose and flowed all the way down her back, and she was dressed in a very flattering blue dress with silver embroidery all around the edges. It was so incongruous with the normal way she presented herself that if it weren’t for her flaming locks, Ukrah might not have recognized her at all.
“Lady A-a-ale’a,” Crispin stammered as she beamed at them and wished them a happy nameday. “You look lovely today.”
“I’m glad you approve. This is the only dress that I own, would you believe.”
“That isn’t true,” Cassinda said, coming up alongside them, also in a lovely, lavender frock that was much finer than what she had normally worn around Eist’s manor. “I happen to know that Lord Ain has bought you a dress every single winter solstice.”
Ale’a’s eyes flashed at that. “Clever girl. Then I’m sure you also know then that those dresses are incredibly hideous, and he goes out of his way to find a worse one every year.”
“Why would he do that?” Crispin asked, looking up at the woman like she was the sun. Ukrah felt a strange, bitter sort of feeling in her chest, but she quickly dismissed it. The day was going far too well to worry about it.
“Just an old, old joke from when we danced around the idea of him courting me.”
Ukrah had to admit, it was pretty entertaining watching the litany of expressions that crossed the young man’s face at that response. “You two courted?”
“Oh, come now, you don’t want to hear old people gossip. You should be concerned with who in the academy is dating who and the like.”
That seemed to stop the conversation and they moved onto the next person. But before they could, Cassinda looked to Athar with wide eyes.