by Jada Fisher
But play wasn’t really possible for him. As soon as he advanced, most of the students scattered back, picking up their hatchlings and pressing themselves against the wall. Of course, Voirdr noticed it then, pausing to sit on his haunches with his head tilting curiously.
She didn’t know what to say to him or how to explain it or if he was even capable of understanding. So instead she just stepped forward and scooped him up.
He let out a long whine, his head swinging back and forth over the group. Some of the other dragons returned his whimper, but their humans held them tightly.
“It’s alright, little guy. They’ll come around.”
Before anyone could object to her comforting him, the doors opened and Ale’a stepped out. Ukrah wondered if the woman was some sort of errand-girl for the council or if she just happened to volunteer for duties that kept her moving. It was hard to say.
“You’re up,” she said to Eist.
The god-woman nodded and headed toward the door the woman was holding open. Ukrah followed, but she didn’t miss when Ale’a turned to the students watching them so intensely, her tone terse.
“If you have enough energy to stand here and perpetuate fear, then I must not be pushing you enough during training. I can schedule an impromptu session right now, since all of you seem so eager to be doing something instead of your assigned classes.”
There was the quick and obvious noise of young students scattering, and Ukrah allowed herself a smile. Crispin was right. For all the things stacked against her, she certainly had some powerful allies on her side.
However, that feeling faded as she stepped into the council room. Unlike her first time, it was almost packed to bursting, with an absurd number of the dragon riders present as well as much of the faculty of the academy lining the walls.
Stomach dropping, Ukrah realized that perhaps the situation was even worse than she thought.
11
Not Exactly a Crowd Pleaser
Elspeth didn’t have to call for silence. No, every single person seemed to go still and quiet as soon as her group entered, maintaining it as the six of them walked to the center of the room. Voirdr was all happy, panting and winding tail, thinking he had just gotten the biggest audience to play with, but Ukrah tried to shush him as best he could.
It wasn’t fair. He was so sweet, so happy to see everyone. Why were they scared of her sweet little guy being possessed by the Blight when the Blight didn’t even exist anymore?
She suspected there wasn’t an answer she would like. After all, why had her village chosen to drag her out of her tent and burn her at the stake? Because she was different, and different was to be feared. It was an old, old song and dance, and she was quite tired of it.
Elspeth’s face was a mask of calm, but her tone sounded so weary as she spoke. Ukrah couldn’t help but wonder what had happened while she was waiting to enter the room and what she’d had to listen to or say. Maybe it was best the young desert girl didn’t know. “Lady and Lord W’allenhaus. Ukrah of W’allenhaus. Crispin of—”
The door slammed open and none other than Dille strode in. She was dressed as Ukrah had never seen, in a formal sort of leather jacket meant for fighting as well as lightweight armor that a witch might wear to battle. She wore dark breeches and had tall, scaled boots that clinked emphatically as she strode in. Two large thunks on the roof, one right after the other, indicated that her pair of red dragons had arrived as well.
The whole room seemed to tense even further.
“Governess Dille. Good to see that you were able to join us.”
“Of course,” the woman said tersely. “In addition to being Governess of the Kingdom of Rothaiche M’or during the rebuilding, I am also the guardian of all witchfolk and magic users. If there is to be some sort of inquiry or…” Her voice went low, and Ukrah swore she felt the air grow colder around them. “…threat against one of those in my protection, I will be there to make sure things are resolved properly.”
There was a murmur among some of the crowd, and Ukrah recognized the new professor who she sincerely disliked. “Surely this isn’t a matter of st—”
Elspeth’s head jerked so quickly in his direction that Ukrah was surprised that her neck didn’t pop. “The council floor has not been opened. Recognize your privilege in standing here when you do not bear the title of a dragon rider, Professor.”
Ah. Suddenly, Ukrah had a very good reminder of exactly why Elspeth was the Head of the Dragon Council.
The professor cowed and quickly sat down, but the tension ramped up that much more. Ukrah wondered if she would ever be able to breathe properly again, her chest was so tight with everything happening around her. She felt like an raw nerve, flayed and oversensitive to every little stimulation.
“Now, we are gathered here because some of you have raised concerns about a new generation being brought back—”
She was interrupted as another rider—with long, dark hair and a full beard—shouted. Ukrah didn’t know where these folks got to gall to talk to their leader as they did or endure the sharp stare and growl from the white dragon above.
“You couch the issue! This isn’t just a matter of a new generation. The black dragon has been wiped out of existence because of its sin against its own kind as well as us. There’s a reason that there hasn’t been one in hundreds of years!”
“You have not been called upon,” Elspeth said, baring her teeth. “Need I remind all of you that I am your leader and have been for centuries, before most of you were born. I have seen the rise and fall of political families and religions. We will keep this conversation civil, do you understand me?”
Another stood, and while her tone was more even, Ukrah still felt the ripple of discontent among the crowd. She couldn’t be certain, but the woman looked like one of the trainers or guards at the academy rather than a rider.
“We understand and respect your authority. But considering the connection between you, your mount, and the black dragon, how can we be certain that you haven’t been influenced?”
Ukrah did not think it was possible, but the strain in the room ramped up that much further, making her mouth go dry. Elspeth tensed and everything seemed still for a moment, hanging on the precipice of what could happen.
The woman’s fingers moved first, gripping the armrests of her large, throne-like chair. Then she rocked forward, standing to her full height. While she was no Ale’a or Athar, she was indeed tall, her limbs sinewy with the kind of strength that came from living through centuries of battle.
“You dare to question my allegiance?” she said, voice low. “After I have carried us through two different apocalypses? After I stopped all of you from rushing forward and trying to execute the child sent to save us? You are young and terrified, but I will not have you question my loyalty.” She took a step down, her hand going to her blade, and the white dragon bared her fangs.
“I gave the final word on the plan to kill my bondmate because it was what our people needed. It was my mount and I that released the final blow that ended their lives. So, you do not have permission or authority to stand there and tell me that I might be influenced like some noble being bribed!”
Voirdr let out an unhappy sound and fought out of Ukrah’s arms. She tried to catch him, but he had a mind of his own and scampered right over to Elsepth.
Letting out a warble, he wound around her feet affectionately, clearly trying to calm and comfort her.
Because of course.
The woman stiffened, absolutely knowing what it looked like, and Ukrah was hyper-aware of it too. The two of them shared a look, and Ukrah hoped the woman could feel how embarrassed she was.
“Elspeth,” another council member said, standing. He was an older one, looking to be somewhere in his forties. He must have started his journey later than most. Which wasn’t unheard of, but still plenty rare. “I respect you greatly, but if I recall right, you almost exiled the first Lady W’allenhaus when she brought you concerns of your h
usband’s corruption and that he was able to get away with so much that we lost nearly half of our number to his betrayal.”
Elspeth’s mouth pressed itself into a thin line, and Ukrah saw her fingers tighten on her sword. “Yes, I faltered. But I learned my lesson and did what needed to be done. As I will now.”
“I believe that you believe that in every sense of the word. But, Elspeth, you have been my friend and leader for nearly two hundred years now, and I have never seen you this affected. The dragon is but a child now, who knows of its power once it grows. If we are to have an impartial, fair discussion to assuage the fears of our members, the academy faculty and students, and even the citizens of Rothaiche M’or, then I believe you must recuse yourself from what may unfold here.”
“Recuse herself?” Eist asked sharply. “This is clearly a power grab. As if some of you haven’t been vying to displace her since she took a stand for magic folk.”
Elspeth stood stock still, her brow furrowed but silent. Ukrah watched the woman, feeling like she was learning something important on how to handle a crisis. “Is this the will of the council?” she asked with an impressive levelness to her voice.
“Elspeth, you can’t be—”
The white-haired woman held up a hand. “Not now, Eist.”
“Shall we put it to a vote?” the same council member asked.
“Yes.” The woman almost seemed to sink into her throne. “We shall put it to a vote. You know the rules, two-thirds of the majority must agree to override me.”
“Of course.” The man turned to the room. “Fellow riders, we face a situation that is new. There is no protocol. There is no precedent. Some of you believe that our leader cannot give an unbiased decision about a dragon she is tied to, and some of you believe that even if she does remain impartial, that there will be those who will not accept that.
“We have brought up the question of recusal to maintain the dignity of whatever decision we conclude. All those in favor, stand and state your name.”
Ukrah felt tension crackle up her spine. Surely, they wouldn’t vote that. Not after everything Elspeth had done for them.
But then a rider stood up, declaring their name and voting aye. Then another. Then another. They started to speak with more and more speed until far too many were on their feet.
Ukrah didn’t have to count all of them to know. She could just feel it. In just a few moments, one of their biggest lifelines had been severed.
“As it stands,” the woman said, only the slightest of waver to her voice. “I recuse myself from this decision. I hand the discussion to you, and I pray that you remember that justice is not the easiest answer, nor is it a straight line.”
The woman’s purple eyes slid to Ukrah, and the desert girl saw so much there. Anger, of course, but failure and shame were wrapped up in it too. Perhaps, if she was anyone else, there would have been tears as well.
And in that moment, Ukrah understood a little of all the pressure that must have been on her. Her heart ached for the woman, and she wished that she could do a lot of things. Tip something over. Punch someone. Make a scene. But she also knew that was the last thing that would help them, so she stayed quiet.
It seemed that since she had already been removed from the conversation, Elspeth didn’t care much about keeping up appearances, because she gave a small whistle. To Ukrah’s surprise, Voirdr’s head perked up and he skittered into her lap.
The white dragon let out a little purr, her head dropping down to rest atop of the throne-like chair. They made quite a picture, and Ukrah felt amazed that she was even remotely a part of it. She was just an orphan from the desert. The wilds. She barely knew how to read and write in their language. And yet there she was, looking at the woman and two dragons her fate had suddenly become so wrapped up in.
“Now, we must bring to head the discussion. I believe the crux of the matter is that some of you believe that this hatchling is evil reborn. Some of you believe this is proof that our world is repairing itself, rebirthing everything that was lost to the corruption of the Blight. Some of you believe that this is the Blight finding a foothold to come back. But I ask you, all of you, my brothers and sisters, do any of you have proof of your suspicions?”
Oh. Ukrah hadn’t expected him to actually be impartial. She thought that all of it was a grab for power, just like Eist had said.
Another member stood. It was the dark-haired one again. “If we wait until we have proof, it is already too late. It is a risk that is far too great! The dragon is clearly unnatural, considering where it was found and how long it laid in its egg.”
He had barely finished when yet another member stood—Fjorin, if Ukrah recalled correctly. “We’ve all seen evidence that magic is being reborn, our world trying to return itself to how it was before it was corrupted unknowingly by the Three. The black dragon, the king of all dragons, has been returned to us, and that is a reason to celebrate!”
“But you can’t deny that the temptation for abuse is there. The black dragon can transfer power from any of our mounts to any other, and he’s in the hands of a foreigner!”
“My mother was a foreigner,” Eist snapped. “She faced enough scrutiny being from Baeldred and yet she saved all of your skins and sacrificed her very soul to lay the groundwork for me to be able to save you all again. She watched as you made her kind illegal. She helped hide other magic folk and get them to safety, but she never turned her back on you. All of you are alive because of a foreigner, so you can shove that line of thinking right up your—”
Dille laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, interrupting what was sure to be a thrilling line of epithets from the small woman. They shared a look and whatever the god-woman had intended to say remained unspoken.
“The wild lands were only forbidden to us because the abominations had taken hold.” This time, it was a woman who spoke, and one Ukrah might have recognized from her failed nameday celebration. “When our nations were formed, our ancestors didn’t have the natural strongholds there to combat the Blight and abandoned it. This girl is old enough to have survived years with those beasts. I do not think we need to worry about her corruption or being weak.”
It was surreal to hear them discuss her like she wasn’t there. It just cemented how much she wasn’t a part of them. How she was a stranger in their land. Too alien, too strange for even the benefit of the doubt.
How exhausting.
“She was born and raised in the land of the Blight! How can we be so sure that she didn’t survive it so much as become possessed by it?”
“Your paranoia grows tiresome. If I recall right, did you not warn that opening a refuge for witches still suffering persecution would bring ruin to our own city?”
“And have I yet been proven wrong? Assassination attempts, raids, there was even an attempt to poison our entire water supply!”
“That is not what you meant, and we all know it. You are old and let your narrow view of the world cloud your judgement!”
“And you would have us flout all the rules and laws that our ancestors fought and bled for?!”
“Why are we arguing? We should be a united front. There’s no way we can know that the dragon is or isn’t corrupted already, so we should err on the side of caution.”
“It already wields too much power!”
“So what? We kill a child? A babe of a hatchling?”
“What if our world is repairing itself and we throw it into chaos yet again, opening ourselves to corruption?”
It was rising in volume and furor, banging on Ukrah’s ears and her patience. At least half of the riders were standing up, calling out their random insults or support, and many of the professors were too.
“She already is heavily favored by her connection to Lady W’allenhaus! Such nepotism absolutely corrupts!”
“We have been worshipping at the feet of W’allenhaus when we’re still not even certain that they’ve done everything people credit them before.”
“Come agai
n?” Eist hissed. “You were there at the final battles. Don’t tell me you’ve been suckered in by what’s left of the Church of the Three.”
“There is no harm in listening to all sides.”
Eist’s face shifting into an expression that was borderline murderous. “Yes, there is. One side is the truth, and one denies that me and people like me should have the right to live. I held my best friend as he died in my arms, but that sect would have you believe that it was all for show. You dishonor him and everyone else who died so that you all could sit here and harass a young girl who is more valuable than any of you could ever know!”
“But that’s just it, W’allenhaus. We don’t know because you and your clan run off to do your will no matter what your council or peers prefer! You are a nation unto yourself and you cannot blame us for being cautious in lending even more power to your sphere of influence.”
“That’s always what this comes down to, isn’t it? A woman, a witch, and an invalid dared to do what I was never supposed to, and now my charge, a foreigner from lands that you’ve all been too afraid to travel to—” She stopped short, her hands going to her stomach. “Ow.”
Athar was at her side in less than a breath, his hands about her waist. “Are you alright?”
“I… Just cramps. I think. I— Ow!”
“Enough of this!” It was the most adamant thing that Ukrah had ever heard him say, and suddenly, he was lifting the woman in his arms like a bride. “I will not stand h-here and have you malign my wife after she has given everyth-th-thing up for you.”
“Athar,” Dille murmured, laying a calming hand on him too. “She’s going to be fine if she calms down. Breathe deeply for me, Eist.”
The god-woman nodded, groaning slightly, her face flushed. Ukrah’s eyes fluttered from the concerned crowd to Elspeth to her sponsor. Was she alright? What was wrong?
“I know you want to fight for your charge, and I know this reminds you far too much of what we’ve already endured, but have you considered that maybe this isn’t the path for her?”