by Lyn Worthen
She scowled at him and stomped toward his leg, amending the force of her footsteps as she took a ginger step onto his claw. She put a hand to the side for balance, her fingers finding purchase on the smooth scales of his underthroat. A sudden frisson of heat erupted as she pressed her fingertips against his side and she yelped, pulling her hand back. Keji, too, looked surprised, a curious hum vibrating through his throat as he tilted his head to look back at her.
“Are you coming?”
“Yes!” Nezka hesitantly touched Keji’s skin again, but nothing happened. A static charge? She pushed it from her mind and hurried up, noticing the texture of Keji’s skin change from small, smooth scales to larger, harder scales as she cleared the top of his leg. The scales on his head created a frill, enabling his head to be flexible on the neck, and also protecting the top of the neck, creating a place where a drakoteer might get relief from the wind.
All along this nook were the rings. The retainer showed her where her primary clips went, as well as the emergencies. The primary clips had a little bit of slack so she could shift posture, but once clipped in, she was stuck in place until the dragon landed.
A thought struck her. “How do you keep him from flying away? I mean, the caballero said he isn’t a frost dragon, so he hasn’t been bound to a magofrio.”
The retainer nodded. “Yes, Keji is a unique case. Fortunately, the caballero is clever. We keep something of Keji’s. His good behavior means continued care for… the object in question.”
Keji growled.
A pit began to form in Nezka’s stomach. “What do you have?”
“Keji’s mother.”
The retainer imparted a few more words of advice, then hurried down. Nezka watched him leave, anger settling in her stomach like a live coal, pulsing hot. But she couldn’t sit and seethe. If Correa saw her doing nothing, he’d revoke his “mercy” and send her back to prison. If she was lucky.
“Keji,” she said, reaching down to grab hold of the nearest ring. “Let’s fly,” and felt foolish as the words left her lips. Dragons were smart, but how smart? Maybe she had to yell something like when the driver of the carriage had called “yip yip” to the drakes that pulled it.
As she drew breath to do this, Keji’s body tensed, crouching low to the ground like a cat about to pounce, then an enormous pressure flattened Nezka onto his neck and she was rising up, up, up; the roar of his wings louder than anything she’d ever heard in her life.
How long it went on, Nezka wasn’t sure, but just when she thought she couldn’t stand it any longer, the pressure eased. She peeled herself off the back of his neck, stood, and her jaw dropped when she saw that Keji was coasting on the wind, using his huge wings to scoop the air. She ventured a whoop of glee. She’d done it! And… she glanced over the side, the ground so far below the canyon aerie looked as if were a mere hop away from the city of Madrente, instead of several hours’ ride. But being so high made her stomach feel strange…
“Please don’t puke on me.”
Nezka yelped, tripping over a clipped lead, and fell hard to Keji’s neck, looking around, but she was alone. She glanced at Keji’s left eye, a little ways in front of her. The eye glanced back.
“Did you… speak to me?”
“You heard that?”
This time Nezka knew the words hadn’t reached her ears. She saw Keji’s mouth move, but he was flying so fast that the wind was snatching most of the sound away. But the words were still there in her mind.
“Interesting,” Keji said. “Never was able to talk well with the others when flying. The last one had this ridiculous speaking tube he set up. This is much easier.”
Nezka gulped air but still felt faint. “You… can talk?”
Keji laughed, his body quaking beneath her hands. “You didn’t know?”
“Dragons don’t have lips!”
“I do too! Sort of. Not those fleshy slugs like humans have, but we make do. Harder to speak the human language; dragon speech isn’t as squishy.”
They flew for a few more moments in silence, then she glanced at Keji’s eye again. “Does the caballero really have your mother?”
“Yes,” he said, the word full of sorrow… and anger.
Unthinkingly, she splayed out her hand on his neck, an unconscious gesture of comfort.
“Where is she?”
Keji glanced back at her. “Why do you want to know?”
The wind tore at her face, the blue shawl flapping, but she held his gaze. “Because they took my mother, too.”
# # #
The cave where Keji’s mother was imprisoned was close to the Trials’ course, Keji explained. He wasn’t sure if that was on purpose – so he would be reminded often – or if it happened to be the most convenient space to imprison a dragon.
Whatever the reason, it worked in their favor, as they had cause to fly in that direction. If Correa had anyone watching for them, they would see them going to practice. But Nezka didn’t think that would happen. They’d spotted the two frost dragons flying back to the aerie already. One had spit a jet of snow at them. Keji had dodged most of it, but Nezka had gotten splashed.
“Pendejos,” she muttered.
The Trials course was set over several mountainous miles. Most of the spectator area was at the end, where the dragons finished with a landing in the middle of a field. Keji explained that though he’d flown the course in practice, he’d never participated in the race. The two drakoteers who could communicate with their frost dragons had the advantage, and Correa hadn’t been pleased that Keji had no frost magic.
Nezka could understand why Correa hung onto Keji, despite this. Magofrio were made by their connection to a frost dragon. Correa already had two – an untold wealth, and he’d been winning second and third place in the race for a couple of years now. The social advantage among the other nobleza of having three dragons – even if one was magicless – must be substantial, enough to outweigh the costs of feeding a dragon Keji’s size. And Keji was exceptionally fast – fast enough to make him a contender for one of the top three spots. Nezka shook her head at Correa’s greed, that he wasn’t content winning two prizes, but had to possess all three.
“What would you do if we could free your mother?” Nezka asked.
“Return to our clan.”
“You have a clan?”
“Of course.” He gave Nezka a glance that, even only seeing half his face, she was able to interpret as a little irritated. “Correa calls us ‘wild’ but that’s only because he’s never seen our city.”
“Here,” he said before Nezka could ask about the dragon city, drifting away from the Trials course and alighting on a cliff edge. He lowered himself on all fours, rocks tumbling down the cliff at his feet, then pointed with his snout. “See that cave?”
Nezka squinted. Through the afternoon’s fading light she could see a cave far below, its opening looked blocked by… “Ice?”
“Yes. Correa used a great deal of magic to seal it up.” He eyed the ice door to the cave mournfully. “My mother is there, behind a door that never melts.”
“How does she survive?”
Keji flinched.
“Sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean—”
“I know,” he said, scraping his claw against the rock. “He goes to check on her when I make a big enough fuss. Because if she is… Well. I wouldn’t stay if she wasn’t alive. Last few times he’s checked, she’s been hibernating. She won’t need to eat much and it helps her conserve energy.”
Nezka considered the barrier. “We should get going.”
Keji waited until she’d rechecked her clips, then launched himself off the side of the mountain.
When her stomach had settled, and they were coasting through the course again, she tucked in a flapping corner of her shawl. She stared at the blue material and remembered snow falling in the desert at the caballera’s command.
“Keji, I have an idea.”
# # #
The haci
enda below was large with a courtyard in the middle. Lights shone at the windows, which gave Nezka hope that her idea might work. She and Keji set down far enough away from the estate that they wouldn’t be seen and crept closer on foot. Nezka motioned for Keji to stay while she scouted ahead and slipped into one of the dark rooms via an open window, her feet soundless on soft carpet.
The room was empty of occupants, and, by its small size, not the room of the person she was looking for. Carefully, she eased open the door a crack, and saw who she was looking for in the lighted corridor across the courtyard.
“I’m going outside to smoke,” Caballera Jacaranda Rivas said to a maid. “I won’t need you until morning.”
Nezka retraced her steps, climbing out the window.
Keji’s head raised. In the darkness, with his coloring, he was nearly invisible. She gestured him forward, and then walked around the corner of the building where she’d spotted a lighted patio from the air. Sure enough, she smelled the cloying sweet scent of a cigarillo. The caballera was leaning against a pillar near a lamp that illuminated her strong features. Nezka made a face, hating the necessity of asking for help from the nobleza, but she didn’t have many options.
She deliberately crunched gravel, and the caballera whipped around, outstretched hand crackling with cold magic.
Her eyebrows rose when Nezka came into the light.
“The thief! You surprise me. Back for a different colored shawl?” The dry amusement in her voice made Nezka grit her teeth, and she raised her hand, gesturing Keji forward another step. The heaviness of his footfall made the caballera look up. The cigarillo dropped from her fingers.
“Oh…”
The caballera shook herself and bent to rescue her fallen smoke, though her hands betrayed a tremor as she did. “I see this is something else. What can I do for you?”
Nezka decided to be blunt. “We need you to break into an ice sealed cave where Correa is holding Keji’s mother captive.” She explained the plan she and Keji had concocted on the flight to the hacienda.
The caballera smoked as Nezka talked, her face betraying nothing. When Nezka finished, she sighed out a last puff and ground the stub into a ceramic bowl on a nearby table. “Much as I would love to steal a dragon from under Gaspard’s nose, I don’t see how I benefit.”
Nezka wanted to stomp her foot in frustration. She’d been foolish to think the caballera’s momentary kindness toward herself meant anything. “But you care about your dragon. We flew there. She’s living better than most people in Madrente. Don’t you care that Keji’s mom is… is…”
The caballera shrugged. “Yes, I love my girl, but neither of you are mine. I do feel for your mother,” she said, turning to address Keji’s huge form in the darkness, “but what is she to me? Politically, she’s better locked up. If Gaspard ever freed her to add to his aerie, I may as well join the plebeyo.” Her voice was bitter. “What do you think I was doing there this morning? Correa has all of the nobleza by the throat. Everyone knew about his two frost dragons… but rumors have swirled for years about…” She gestured at Keji. “You. Sightings, rumors. Now confirmed, I suppose.” She made a frustrated noise. “Three frosts. Blessed Lady…”
“I am not a frost dragon, neither is my mother. I am what you humans call ‘wild.’” Keji said with a snort. “The only advantage she provides Correa is to force me to stay in his aerie.”
“That is reassuring,” the caballera said, tapping her chin with a finger. “Hmm…” She glanced at Nezka. “Could you sabotage Correa? I want at least one of his frosts out of the race. He’s dangerously close to taking my spot in first place, and the other nobleza would love to see his pride wounded.”
Nezka shifted, uncomfortable. “Are you asking me to hurt them?”
Jacaranda let out a surprised laugh. “Blessed Lady, no. I don’t think you could even if I asked. But you might sneak into the equipment shed and destroy the harnesses the day of the race, yes? Destroying all but one should be fine. As I said, I want a fair race, not those two brutes ganging up on my girl like they do every year.”
Nezka glanced at Keji who nodded. “Okay,” she said, turning to the caballera. “I can do that, in exchange for your help melting the ice on the cave.”
The caballera smiled. “Done.”
# # #
The morning of the Trial dawned clear – good flying weather. Nezka yawned as she rechecked her harness.
“Clip 1, good.” She tugged on the lead. “Clip 2, good. Clip 3… good. All the rest, including emergencies, good.” She’d been up while it was still dark to steal all but one of the harnesses from the equipment shed and toss them into the stinking hole they used for dragon waste. Her part was done. The caballera better hold up her end.
“Nezka.”
She jumped at Correa’s voice, and looked over Keji’s neck. He frowned up at her. “Remember: do well today and your debt is gone.”
Nezka nodded, and returned to checking her straps, a hard knot within her. She had no doubts about Keji’s speed – he was ferociously fast – they’d spent the rest of their time before the Trials doing the real training that any drakoteer team would.
She knew that helping Keji’s mother was the right thing to do – she knew it the same way she knew the sun was hot. But she also couldn’t deny a sinking feeling that once she freed Keji’s mother and the wild dragons left, she would be at Correa’s mercy. She clenched her jaw. No. She wouldn’t let him. Making her own plans was nothing new to her, so as she tightened her harness, she considered the various coins and jewelry she’d stolen from the caballera’s hacienda. She hadn’t had time to count them, but hopefully it would be enough to go somewhere Correa couldn’t find her.
Below her feet, Keji’s scales were warm to the touch, though the morning air was crisp and cool, as it should be in the desert. A deep gurgle issued from Keji’s throat.
“Keji?”
“I’m fine,” he grunted, stretching his wings. “Ate a goat too fast last night.”
“Greedy,” she said fondly. “And the night before a race, too.”
He puffed air up at her, blowing her hat off her head.
Shouts of anger erupted behind her. The frost dragons’ two drakoteers were yanking a single harness back and forth. Nezka grinned and tapped Keji’s neck to let him know she was ready. They lifted off, the two frost dragons watching resentfully from the ground as they flew away. Below them on the road, carriages were already heading from Madrente to the race’s start. Spectators would arrive there, then travel to the finish line once the dragons were out of sight.
Keji was restless as they moved into position at the starting line. Nezka couldn’t calm him; she was antsy, too.
There were speeches to get the crowd excited, but Nezka leaned forward, wanting it to just start. Finally, a firecracker whistled into the air and exploded.
Keji burst from the starting line like a comet, flattening Nezka to his back as she gripped the rings. She risked a glance behind and grinned to see several distant dragon faces stunned by the severity of their speed. As she watched, their wind stream caught them and a few went tumbling midflight.
Keji climbed elevation as quickly as possible to be out of sight of any of their competitors. An hour’s flight in, with still none of the other dragons in sight, they came to the ice cave. Keji folded his wings, dropping past the cliff sides, then opening his wings up to slow for the descent to the cave.
“She’s not here!” he said, his worry a palpable beat in Nezka’s chest, but then she saw the caballera’s slim figure scrabbling up the rocks at the base of the mountain.
“You’re here already?” Jacaranda panted. Her hair was mussed from her climb. “I thought I had ages to get here.”
“He’s fast,” Nezka said impatiently. “Hurry!”
“Yes, yes…” Jacaranda faced the solid sheet of ice, hand hovering over its glittering surface.
“Well?” Keji’s tail whipped impatiently, causing a minor rock slide.
>
“It’s… stronger than I thought it would be,” she said slowly. “Gaspard is a strong magofrio because of his connection to two dragons.”
“Can you break it?”
Jacaranda faced the ice again, closing her eyes. Her palms began to glow. Nezka felt the air grow frigid, goosebumps rising on her skin. Then Jacaranda shuddered, the glow fading as she collapsed to the ground.
“Caballera!”
Jacaranda eased herself up, wincing. “I can’t,” she said, not looking up at Nezka. “The magic of two dragons…. I cannot break it.” She looked up, her face pained. “Truly, I am sorry—”
“No!” Keji roared.
Jacaranda gaped at him, then scrambled to get out of the way as Keji came around to face the ice wall.
“What are you…” Nezka’s voice trailed off as she felt something in the dragon she was still riding, something that had been boiling all morning, something that even as she stood there was rising inside her, a solid pressure on her senses. Without being aware of why, Nezka flattened her palms to Keji’s scales and pushed.
Keji roared again, only this time it wasn’t just sound: a gout of fire blasted from Keji’s open mouth, hitting the ice wall with the force of a boulder careening down a cliff.
The wall of ice groaned and cracked, a huge fissure opening where Keji’s fire concentrated. Nezka lifted her hands from Keji’s neck in shock, the pressure she’d felt fading. Keji’s fire ran out, and for a moment, they all stared at the crevice, silent.
“Blessed Lady and the Sixteen Saints!” Jacaranda whispered.
Nezka didn’t spare her a glance. “We need to do it again.”
Keji was panting but nodded. Instinctively, she pressed her hands against his scales again and she felt it this time, a connection and building pressure, and pushed on it without knowing what she was doing. Keji’s belched flames at the ice wall again. Soon, a small river formed where the ice wall had melted, trickling down the rocks below and leaving a large enough opening for Keji to squeeze through.