by Jada Fisher
“What?” Ukrah asked, stepping forward. She’d always thought Dille was a bit against her, but it seemed the woman was suggesting…
But the woman’s dark, darks eyes landed on Ukrah and there wasn’t concern or alarm or mistrust like there usually was. Instead, there was a certain sort of resigned commiseration there, one that made the desert girl freeze mid-step.
“Your dragon has already hatched, and you’ve bonded to each other. They cannot take him from you no matter what, and we will not allow them to harm either of you. I believe most of this council doesn’t wish you violence, only exile.
“So perhaps you just…leave. Perhaps you’re not meant to walk the same path as Eist. Your own story to forge.”
Oh.
Oh.
Ukrah stood there, her mind spinning. What if she…just…left?
“They wouldn’t talk Voirdr away?” she whispered, trying to catch up with the sudden information.
“No. He is yours. That is one of the reasons why rogue dragon riders are so dangerous. Their mounts cannot be taken away from them, so there is almost always a fight, and there is almost always a death.”
“Ukrah…” It was Eist who spoke, and she shook her head. “Athar, put me down. I’m fine. I just lost my head.”
The mountain of a man looked reluctant to do so, but after a few beats, he did as she asked.
“Ukrah, do you want to remain here? Because I will fight for you tooth and nail, and I’ve never lost once. But if you don’t want to be here, I won’t force you to stay.”
Ukrah stared at the woman, trying to think. She felt like she had been presented with a wealth of options that she was never aware of before.
She knew she was meant to meet Voirdr. It was carved into her very bones. But she had thought that he and the academy were a package deal. That she had to deal with all the bad in order to deserve the overwhelming good that was her little guy.
But she…didn’t have to? She could have him but not all the rest?
“She has come this far to get him, but what if that is as far as she is meant to go?” The governess stepped closer and her voice dropped so low that Ukrah could barely hear her. “She is a vessel, Eist. Something never seen before. She needs to hone her magic, and perhaps the academy isn’t the best place to do that. You know how few riders have magic. They haven’t really made any improvements in these past five years for them.”
“I get that, Dille. You don’t have to tell me.”
“I’m not saying it for you.”
The riders around them all continued to argue, anger mounting as their volume did. It was intense, but Ukrah could only stare at the two women gazing at her.
“Right. Ukrah, I’d like to tell you that you don’t have to decide now, but unfortunately, a good number of these idiots are forcing our hand.”
She swallowed hard, her cheeks feeling too warm and her blood rushing past her ears. Voirdr must have somehow sensed it, because he let out one of his little barks behind her and soon, she felt his head pressing against the back of her legs. The pressure was comforting, grounding, so she closed her eyes and breathed deeply.
No more Melithindre. No more professors. No more furtive looks or passive aggressive remarks. She wouldn’t be a foreigner in a land she didn’t belong to. She wouldn’t be constantly reminded of how she didn’t belong. How she was other.
But she would be giving up an entire destiny. She’d never be a dragon rider, like Eist wanted for her. She’d never sit on the council to help someone like her that might end up in a similar situation.
She took one last look at the faces around her. Red cheeks, bared teeth, voices poison. There was so much heat and tension filling the room that she thought her ears might pop. Who would want to be a part of that?
“I…” She paused to lick her lips, feeling Crispin’s wide eyes on her. Eist’s. Dille’s. Athar’s. “I don’t want to be some place that doesn’t want me.”
Eist let out a long breath, closing her own eyes and pressing her fingers to just over her brows. For a moment, Ukrah feared that the woman was going to disown her, to ask her how dare she just give up, but instead, she just drew in a few more long drafts of air.
When she finished, her face smoothed and she stepped forward, her hand wrapped firmly in Dille’s.
“I motion to have the dragon and rider in question removed from the academy, sentenced to live within the city where both can be checked on monthly by a member of the Dragon Rider Council. The two will remove themselves from the rider path, never to be a part of any official armor, and they will remain in my custody.”
Almost all the yelling faded at that, with the stragglers quickly going silent soon after. Ukrah’s gaze swung to the original council member who had taken over after recusing Elspeth, to see that he looked surprised too.
“You do not wish to defend your charge?”
“I am defending her. My job is to make sure she is happy and healthy. I do not believe living in this place where you have all made it clear you do not want her would be conducive to either. So, fine. We leave. We go back home, and we let the lot of you come and check on us whenever your suspicious, cowardly little hearts want to. Is that enough, huh?”
“Eist…” Elspeth murmured, brows furrowed. But Ukrah managed to catch her gaze and nodded, willing the woman to understand that this was what she wanted.
And the more moments that passed, the more Ukrah became sure of it. The academy wore her down. When was the last time she had even been happy? Sure, she had flashes of joy, such as conversations with Braddock, or training with Ale’a, or when Crispin would hold her after a bad nightmare. She had even more now that she had her little guy.
But if she could have all of those without the awful parts of the academy that weighed her down, then why not? She didn’t feel compelled to stay. In fact, she definitely felt as if she was being pushed out.
Somehow, the woman seemed to understand and settled back, reaching up to scratch the chin of her white dragon, who was also watching ever-so-intently.
“Who supports my motion?” Eist barreled forward in what Ukrah was beginning to learn was true Eist fashion. “All those in favor, stand and state your names!”
It was such a power move, and once more, Ukrah felt like she was learning exactly how the legends of the god-woman were built. She was truly fearless, staring at the people around them with fire in her mismatched eyes, back ramrod straight and hands on her stomach. The desert girl had never thought of pregnant women as particularly terrifying, but there was definitely something intimidating about Eist, swollen with child and daring the entire council to take her on.
Ale’a was the first to support, unsurprisingly. Then Fjorin. Then others. Ukrah saw those who had just said terrible things about her stand. She saw those who had defended her stand. It seemed their support was drawing from two very large wells, one being those who trusted Eist and the others who feared her but didn’t want to hurt what they didn’t understand—just lock it away.
By the time the calls of support ended, nearly the whole place was standing, with the professors and dissenting riders sticking out like sore thumbs. When Ukrah looked to them, she saw only hatred in their eyes. Furious that they were technically getting their way, but not the violence they craved.
“The council has spoken. On this day, the black dragon and his human will be removed from the academy. They will be denied the privilege to become riders, and they will submit themselves to checks of approved council members. They will reside within the limits of the city, so they may be monitored, or called upon in time of need. This decision is agreed to willingly by Ukrah of W’allenhaus, daughter of the living sands.”
A streak of confusion went through her at the additional title. Daughter of the living sands? Why had he said that? Was he trying to make her seem greater than she was?
She didn’t know, but she had the feeling that the man was more of an ally than she had thought. Maybe he knew that things were doomed t
o go poorly if Elspeth had been residing over the decision, that it would cause damage because far too many didn’t believe that she could be impartial. Maybe he’d done what he’d done to watch out for her.
But she had no way of knowing, did she?
“Thank you for your council,” Dille said, her voice diplomatic but edged in poison. “I will say, to my fellow riders who spoke ill today, your words do so closely echo the same fears as those who have the blood of generations of witches on their hand.” She tipped her head. “With Lady Elspeth’s permission, I request dismissal.”
“You may have it,” the woman said, looking so exhausted.
Dille nodded and strode out. Eist held out her hand to Ukrah while Crispin grabbed her other one and moments later, they were all walking out.
How strange to think that she was never going back to the academy. Never going back to her suite.
To be perfectly honest, she didn’t think she was going to miss it.
12
What Now?
“May I talk to you, Ukrah?”
She looked up from the floor, not realizing that she had been staring at it so intently. It seemed that things were suddenly rushing forward by leaps and bounds again, so she had to struggle to keep up with it all.
Eist was in the kitchen, discussing things hastily with Mrs. Kaldonner. Ukrah guessed it was the news that suddenly there were two new mouths to feed again. Athar was outside and she could hear him talking in a low, rumbling voice to his dragon as he paced. Clearly, the events of the council had upset him, but he seemed to be dealing with it in a very Athar way.
As for Crispin, he was laying on the floor, petting Voirdr’s back as the hatchling sprawled along his torso while Cassinda took her time tying pretty ribbons around his tail and still-hardening horns.
Her stuff would be arriving soon, she had been told, with workers from the academy packing it all up and loading it onto a wagon for her. She’d heard that Eist’s grandfather was spitting mad, which meant that many of the riders were going to suddenly find lackluster food waiting for them at meals, unshined armor, and poor service at the rider tavern within the academy. Apparently, the workers were quite tightknit, and they were taking it as an affront to them all.
Maybe it was because most of them didn’t come from wealthy families. Maybe it was because many of them were foreign themselves. Maybe it was just because Eist was an adopted daughter to all of them. For whatever reason, Ukrah almost wished she could be around to experience the mayhem.
“In private, that is,” the governess continued, pulling Ukrah out of her thoughts.
“Y-yes. Of course.”
Ukrah wasn’t thrilled to talk to the dark-skinned woman, considering the nature of most of their interactions, but after what happened at the council, she found herself uncertain if the woman was someone she needed to fear or to trust. It was all so complicated, and she rather wished it wasn’t.
She rose to her feet and followed Dille outside, past the still-pacing Athar and to a gazebo by the orchard that Ukrah had missed so dearly. There was hardly any fruit there, the growing season having long gone, but it was still such a peaceful place.
As they entered the gazebo, Dille settled on one of the benches, the sound of flapping wings soon filling the air above them. Moments later, her truly massive red dragon and slightly less than massive red dragon both landed, settling on the ground and leaning against the sides of the simple structure.
The woman didn’t move to speak, and a moment later, another form joined them. Ukrah was surprised to see that it was none other than Fior, who looked to the pair of lazing red dragons, then the humans, before squeezing himself into the gazebo and curling up on the ground.
He took up almost all of the space, his tail trailing outside the structure. His wide, shovel-like head rested partially on the bench and partially in Ukrah’s lap. She stared, stock still and completely shocked, until he let out a little wuffle.
“He likes his cheeks and under his chin scratched or rubbed,” Dille remarked cooly.
Tentatively, Ukrah did just that. His scales were surprisingly warm to the touch, much warmer than Voirdr’s, and they were so smooth. Instead of being like interlocking arrowheads all layered on top of each other, they were rounded. Stones in a riverbed, worn by the progression of water moving over them.
He let out what was almost a purr, and Ukrah felt it relax her.
“He likes you. That’s saying something. He’s grown much less open as he’s gotten older.”
“Why is that, do you think?”
Dille made a vague gesture. “Stories for other times. His early life was difficult, and the five years since the great war have not improved much. Battles have become assassinations, subverting villainous plots has become trying to navigate political machinations. It’s exhausting.”
Ukrah nodded, not sure what to say. She wondered what it would have been like to know the great four during the final fight against the Blight. It had clearly forged several intense, strong people, and yet they all were so different. They were almost a study in trauma and how it could mold a mind and soul.
“I need to ask a favor of you, child.”
Ukrah’s head snapped up at that. “A favor?”
What could the Governess of the Kingdom of Rothaiche M’or, the patron of all witches, protector of refugees, possibly want from an orphan girl from the desert?
“I need you not to discuss what we speak of tonight with Eist.” Ukrah’s heart skipped a beat at that. What could that possibly mean? “She wants to protect you.” The woman chuckled. “She wants to protect all of us, she’s always been that way. But you are young and precious and brought to her, so that makes it that much more intense. She doesn’t want you to be afraid like she was when she first discovered her magic. She wants you to have at least a little bit of a childhood.”
It was strange to hear Dille speak so freely of Eist while saying something so…kind. She was precious? Did Eist really think that? And did the governess believe that?
“And I understand why she wants those things, considering that by the time she was nineteen, she’d been tortured by the Blight, used as a pawn by false gods, gave up her last connection to her family, and held her best friend as he died in her arms. She doesn’t want that for you. But…”
“But?”
“I fear you are destined for such a rocky path.”
Ukrah swallowed. “You think I’ll have to fight a war?”
“I do not know that for certain, but that does seem like what these things always come down to, doesn’t it?” She let out a very dry laugh, but Ukrah didn’t join in. She didn’t think she could find an ounce of humor in the situation. “But even without war, your life has become dangerous, Ukrah, and I need you to understand it to protect both yourself and whatever’s inside of you.
“As I’m sure you’ve heard me say many times by now, when Eist returned this world to the original path it was supposed to be on, she created a sort of empty space that our deities and the Blight occupied. Nature abhors empty space, so it is rushing to fill that right now. That is why I believe you are here. The old spirits are returning as best they know how.”
“Yes, you’ve said this before.” It was daunting, that was for certain, but she didn’t understand why it caused such a grim expression from Dille or the need for a private conversation.
“I have. But what I haven’t communicated is that there are other things, other forces, that will want to fill that emptiness instead. To use it as an opportunity for gain.”
“What…kind of things?”
“That I cannot answer. My memories of the old knowledge is fleeting at best. Sometimes, it seems so solid in my mind that I could read it like a scroll, and other times, it’s like I dreamt all of it. But I can tell you that they are there. Lurking on the periphery of our knowledge. I wish that was the only thing you had to worry about, some phantoms that may or may not exist in the dark, but there are much more practical and probabl
e threats as well.”
“There are?”
“Yes. You are Eist’s charge. Even if we manage to keep your nature completely a secret, you are a target. You could be kidnapped for ransom, killed for revenge. You are a known witch, although the nature of your inclinations isn’t public knowledge. It would be easy enough to leak your status as magic folk. There are witch hunters, slavers. Those who would kill you for daring to hail from the desert, and those who would want to steal your dragon simply for profit.
“People are cruel, vicious, and greedy when they want to be. You will be afforded no mercy because you are young, or because forces greater than yourself are moving you. Eist herself was shot with a poison arrow at this age. You’ve been run through with a sword. It will only increase from there.”
Ukrah’s palms felt clammy, her tongue thick in her mouth. “You really think that…that many people would want to kill me?”
“Yes. Absolutely. You are a powerful woman in a strange land, and that breeds hate in the mind of those looking to hate. Eist has saved this entire world, and occasionally, she is still spit at in the streets. You’ve been there for an assassination attempt for myself. Even Athar runs into trouble, although people seem less likely to confront him.”
The woman leaned forward, and Ukrah found herself caught up in her dark, intense gaze. “What I need you to understand, Ukrah, is that you could be killed. And I know you are aware of that, but I don’t think you understand that you must not be killed.”
“I… What?”
“You are a vessel for something powerful. Something that could help fix our world and make sure no usurpers come in to claim a stake. You must live, and you must find out the reason for your creation, or possession, or whatever it was that brought you into this position. You cannot fail. I need you to understand that.”
Ukrah felt so much weight across her shoulders, pressing her down into the earth. Even with Fior’s head in her lap, she felt like she was being buried under all of it. “And…and what if I don’t?”