Rakarthen Academy

by Clara Hartley

  Nemreth didn’t find humor in my taunt. He turned around and started walking. “Follow me. Cendri wants to talk to you.”

  I didn’t move.

  “He’s not going to hurt you. Don’t worry.”

  “I wasn’t afraid of him hurting me.”

  “Of course,” Nemreth replied, unconvinced.

  I glanced at Kaji. My apprehension must have been obvious—Kaji had tossed aside the leaf and kept his guard up. When I remained hesitant, Kaji made the decision for me. He strode past me, hand on his scabbard. “You came here for answers,” Kaji said. “Let’s go find them.”

  “I’m not comfortable with those guys ordering me around.”

  “You’ve been ordered around since you got here. Come. I’ll protect you.”

  I sighed, wondering why I was acting so cowardly. Maybe it was because I’d never seem Nemreth this stern before. I thought I wanted to see past his false exterior, but watching him act so different had made me nervous. I trailed after Kaji, ignoring the sinking sensation in my stomach, and walked through the forested area we’d been hiding in. Soon we reached a place with a stream running through a grassy plain.

  Cendri was there, kneeling in front of a huge rock. It had words in a foreign language carved into it. It looked like ancient fae tongue. I’d gone over that language during some of my language lessons in Rakarthen, and could understand bits and pieces of it. Still, I hadn’t spent enough time with the language to be fluent.

  I tried to read the words aloud. “Peace… death… friend…” I squinted, shuffling closer to Cendri. “I have questions,” I said, my curiosity making me impatient. “About the children, earlier.”

  “They are our secret,” Nemreth said. “You shouldn’t have intruded on our lives. You shouldn’t know about the children.”

  I steeled myself. “What are you going to do to me now? Rip my memory from my mind?”

  “We could,” Cendri answered.

  “Why are they so important, anyway?” I asked.

  “Still sticking your nose into matters that don’t concern you, I see,” Nemreth replied.

  “You’re the ones who brought me here.”

  “They’re called the Useless,” Cendri said. “Magicless children.”

  I held my breath, awaiting more explanation.

  Cendri stood from his kneeling position. He turned to me, suddenly seeming taller than usual. “The fae are vicious to children who cannot wield magic. They fear the lack of magic. The elders think that the condition can be transmitted. That if these magicless children are allowed to live in Thesnan, there will be more and more fae that cannot use the art. They think that having more Useless will cause the fae to weaken as a race, to lose the abilities we hold so dear to us.”

  “What’s wrong with a lack of magic?” Most dragon-kind didn’t have any. My family was a special case. My mother was touched by Aereala, the goddess, while my fathers were indirectly the sons of a god, Gaean. The Everborne bloodline was highly attuned to the art. That was good and all, but it still didn’t explain why I possessed powers of the fae.

  “Nothing,” Cendri answered. “I used to believe the stories. I used to think that the Useless were cursed. But they’re unfortunate souls. Merely that. Estri and her twin made me see that.”

  I vaguely recalled the little girl who’d spotted us. She had a twin?

  “Estri’s my sister,” Nemreth said. “My parents wanted to send her and Vyni to Constanria. I managed to save Estri. She was out with me that day, going to play with the flickerflies. I didn’t know it was the time they tested for the Useless. Vyni wanted to stay home. I would have brought her with me had I known the elders would come that day. They took her. She was sent away with the rest of the children who couldn’t pass their magical tests. My parents let them take her. They wanted to keep the prestige that being associated with one of the triad brought.” Nemreth’s voice grew quieter as he talked, as if the memory pained him.

  “We played together often,” Cendri said. “Vyni’s gone now. We built this structure in her memory.”

  “So all the children back there… they’re the Useless?” I asked.

  Cendri nodded. “The ones who get sent to Constanria never come back. The dragon-kind are brutal people.”

  I scoffed. “Now, that’s hypocrisy at its worst.”

  Cendri and Nemreth looked at me with surprise.

  “You fae are ripping children away from their families,” I said. “And you blame the dragon-kind for losing your sister? I don’t know a single dragon-kind who’d do something so cruel. Forcing children to leave their parents just because of how they were born. We’re civilized. Organized.”

  Nemreth began, “The stories—”

  “You fae have been in your own little world so much that you’re basing your impressions of the dragon-kind on the past. Thousands of years ago, the Dragon Mother ruled. We’re different now. Kinder. And we would never have done what your elders did to those children.”

  Cendri glared at me. “Then explain why we went to Constanria and never found Vyni.”

  I shrugged. “Beats me. I didn’t know she existed until today. Why did you bring me here?”

  “We’d like an apology.”

  “Apology,” I repeated, snorting. “Are you being serious right now? After all you’d done?”

  “From your people. You slaughter our children.”

  “That you send away!” I resisted the urge to slap my forehead. This all sounded like horseshit, and it was bad enough to make me want to strangle both Cendri and Nemreth. I took a step closer. “You know what I think? I think that you are grieving. That you’re upset you lost a special someone and don’t know how to explain that loss. You want someone to blame. It’s hard to blame your own people—”

  “We’re mad at the elders, too,” Cendri said.

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re mad at everyone and need a victim. Some unfortunate soul who happens to be conveniently there for you to torture and throw your tantrums at. Am I right?” I blew out a frustrated sigh. “And I happen to be from the place where you lost poor Vyni to.”

  I wondered how often people yelled at Cendri like that, especially since he was protected by all his privilege. There was fire in his eyes, and the tension between us weighed heavily on our shoulders. “We searched all of Constanria for her. We couldn’t find her. We were hoping a dragon-kind family might have taken her in, but we can only think that she died. Your people killed Vyni and a bunch of other innocent children. How can I trust dragon-kind after knowing this?”

  “You barely have any evidence. How can you be certain?”

  “We set up this place for the Useless. A sanctuary for them to hide from the elders. We can’t let them be sent back to the drae lands. They’d die there because of the viciousness of your people.”

  At this point, I was certain that Cendri wasn’t listening. He wanted me here to listen to more of his accusations and anger. He wasn’t going to hear what I had to say.

  I had to show him that we weren’t all murderers like he thought. I had to bring him back to Constanria.

  “Follow me,” I said.

  Cendri frowned. “What?”

  “Back to Constanria. You’ll have to see for yourself. It’s a shame you lost Vyni, but she might have gone missing due to the actions of one bloody asshole.”

  “I’m not going there,” Cendri said. “Are you giving up on your mission now, princess?”

  “I’m not giving up.” I reached into my satchel, looking for the energy ball Aland had given me. As I did, I stepped closer to Cendri. He eyed me warily. “I just need to show you the folly of your ways.”

  “You can’t make me go back there.”

  I pulled out the energy ball, stealing the power from it. I should have saved this for the Flower Trials, but my emotions got the better of me. Magical ability surged through me, and I directed it at Cendri.

  “Take me back to Constanria,” I said as I gripped his wrist.

&n
bsp; Eighteen

  I had an inkling that Cendri was going to kill me once we entered the Flower Trials. It was the hateful look in his eyes when he talked about Vyni. I wasn’t having it. If I was going to die, it had to be for the right reasons, and not due to some incorrect accusation or misunderstanding.

  I’d compelled both Cendri and Nemreth to take me back to Constanria, and together, they’d summoned a portal. I felt the cool magic of the portal as I stepped through it. Cendri and Nemreth came after, but it shut before Kaji could follow. It was just the three of us back in the drae lands. Due to my stunt, I’d used up the magic from the pit. Cendri and Nemreth weren’t under my control anymore.

  We’d stopped right outside Raynea’s city gate, close to the stables where we’d gotten the horses. A farmer strolled by us, transporting his goods with his geckari. He was talking to one of the guards.

  The guards didn’t seem to notice the three of us. We were in the shadows of the stables, and the guards were too busy taking down the credentials of the farmer.

  Cendri snapped his attention toward me. “You…” He took large strides, closing the distance between us, before hooking his fingers beneath my collar. He snarled. “Why did you bring us here?”

  “You need to see for yourself,” I replied. He was so close, and I needed to resist the urge to spit at his face. He released me roughly. I smashed against the stable, shaking the structure. A horse whinnied in response.

  Cendri turned to Nemreth. “We’re going back. Stay where you are, princess. We don’t need you in Thesnan.”

  “What of Neremin?” Nemreth asked. “The meister wants the princess back in Rakarthen.”

  “I really don’t care.”

  “You’re a coward,” I said.

  Cendri stilled, my insult seeming to strike a chord with him. Slowly, he turned his head. “And why do you say that? You’re the one with fear in your eyes.”

  Was I afraid? Perhaps I’d mistaken my fear for false courage. “You label my people as monsters. That’s what you’re comfortable with, and any other thought makes you scared.”

  “What would I be afraid of?” Cendri glared at me like he might attack me. But he awaited my response.

  “To be wrong.” I smirked, taunting him. I was doing a horrible job of getting on the fae’s good side. But playing nice simply wasn’t like me. “That’s the worst that could happen to an egotistical prat like you. You hate being told you’re wrong.”

  “What were you going to show us?”

  “Unlike what you think, dragon-kind aren’t monsters who eat children. We are beings with hearts.”

  Cendri rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say that.”

  “No, you just shot random accusations at us and made me suffer for it. Kaji, too.”

  Cendri shook his head. “Let’s hurry up with this.”

  I blinked, not having expected him to concede. I thought they were going to summon another portal and hop back to Thesnan.

  “All right,” I said. “And when you see just how wrong you are, I want you to admit it.”

  “Don’t push it, princess. I’m already showing plenty of patience.”

  Cendri and Nemreth forced me to walk through Raynea while shrouded in one of their invisibility spells. We were in my home territory now, and the tables had turned.

  Nemreth had shed his seriousness, putting back on his falsely cheery exterior. He wore the mask I couldn’t trust again. Turning to me, he asked, “You’re not going to summon your guards now, are you? It would be mighty inconvenient for us both.”

  “Lots of dead guards,” Cendri added.

  “I’ll be back with you in Thesnan once this is done,” I replied. “I don’t have a choice, anyway, even though you guys want to dump me here and be done with it. I’ve dropped my flower into the well. The Flower Trials will compel me to go back to the fae lands.”

  Cendri raised his brows. “You submitted yourself to it?”

  We rounded a corner, entering a dark street. The scents here were strong because of a nearby spice store. The smell reminded me of the children I often visited.

  “Aland showed me where the well was,” I said. “He was very helpful.”

  “He did?” Nemreth asked, sounding surprised. “Well, Aland’s been looking at Ly different lately. Like he’s actually drawn to her.”

  “He’s crazy,” Cendri added.

  “Nothing crazy about wanting to look at me,” I said.

  “You’re dragon-kind.”

  “Nothing wrong with that, either.”

  “Mhm,” Cendri replied, unconvinced.

  “Are we heading toward the right place?” Nemreth asked.

  Cendri picked up his pace, walking beside me. “I’m getting impatient. Make me walk any longer, and I’m going to head back. Seems like we’re just going to hit a dead end.”

  I shook my head. Cendri sounded like a little kid who didn’t get his meat candy on time. “We’re almost there.”

  Growing up, I’d explored Raynea often, and I had a mental map of the entire city. I’d frequented this place on a regular basis. The head of the orphanage, Madame Gynelire, welcomed my presence. I liked telling her children grand stories about heroes. Those were the stories Mom read to me when I was younger. The children loved it whenever I popped by, unlike the evaradraes, who always looked like they’d smelled something bad when they saw me.

  I stopped in front of a dingy building. It was sandwiched between two larger red-bricked ones. One of them was the spice store that was almost too pungent for my sensitive sense of smell. Cendri and Nemreth seemed to agree with my sentiments, even though they didn’t say it aloud. Their noses twitched and their expressions soured.

  Cendri folded his arms across his chest. “This place looks run-down. Is it even fit for living in?”

  “They’re moving in two months,” I said. “There’s a new building on the other side of the city currently undergoing construction. Madame Gynelire asked me not to tell anybody about these children, but I begged my father, Rylan, for a new building anyway. I had to come up with some lie.”

  Nemreth narrowed an eye at me when I mentioned lying. I knew that fae didn’t take to lies well.

  “I don’t know why there’s so much secrecy around them,” I said. “She prefers to keep the children hidden. Says it’s for their protection or something.”

  “Hmph.” Cendri straightened. “Even your own people can’t trust other dragon-kind.”

  I sighed. “I told her there’s no need to be all secretive about the kids. Other people in Raynea will be happy to help if only she’d ask. I mean, the dragon-kind living around here are aware of the children, but she doesn’t announce their existence like she should. If more people knew about what she’s doing, caring for the orphans, they’d be more inclined to donate. She’s always complaining about not having enough supplies.” Madame Gynelire had the kindest heart. I just wanted Nemreth and Cendri to see what she’d built from her kindness. Maybe with that, they’d stop hating so much.

  “There’s something odd about this place,” Nemreth said.

  “Oh,” I said, “is it the roof? It’s falling off, after all.” As if to prove me right, a tile broke off from the roof, dropping right next to Cendri. “The new building’s much nicer. The roof isn’t crumbling, at least, and the children will have bathtubs to bathe in.”

  Cendri scowled at the fallen tile, flicking a strand of hair from his face. “It’s not the building itself. It’s the inside. I sense something that seems… familiar.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I walked up the stairs, toward the door, and rapped on it. I always used the same beat to knock on the orphanage’s door. Two fast knocks followed by two slow ones. That way, Madame Gynelire would know exactly who it was coming to see her.

  “I hate Raynea,” Cendri said, again whining like a spoilt brat. “There’s too much metal, too much noise, too much—”

  “Dragon-kind?” I cut in, turning around to flash him a dirt
y look.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “I can assure you, Cendri Bellquaine, that if the dragon-kind knew how much of a prick you are, and exactly how rude you can be, they wouldn’t like you in Raynea either.”

  “Good. The feeling’s mutual, then.”

  The door opened as Cendri and I exchanged our unkind words. A wrinkled lady with stark white hair opened the door. She had a shawl draped around her shoulders, brown like the tiles of the roof. Soot stained her cheeks. Madame Gynelire must have been cooking and dirtied herself with the charcoal of her fire. It was no easy feat cooking for a whole house full of children. She did it three times a day, every day. I’d always admired the work she put in to keep the place running.

  “Ah,” Madame Gynelire said, “Your Highness. Nice of you to drop by today. Are you busy, perhaps? I haven’t seen you for more than a month.”

  I raised my hands, showing that they were empty. “I’m sorry, I didn’t bring anything with me today.”

  “You don’t have to. Your presence is enough. The kids love it every time you drop by.”

  “Still…”

  “Stop looking all guilty on me now. It’s unnecessary.” She looked over my shoulder. “Oh, and you’ve brought guests with you—” Her eyes widened. “They’re… not dragon-kind.” A frown creased her brow. “Good day to you, dear sirs.”

  “May we come in?” I asked. “I should have warned you earlier about bringing strange guests with me.” Madame Gynelire had always been protective about her orphans, and here I was, barging in with two strangers. I should have considered this properly, but silly me had gotten all swept up in my idea, not thinking about the repercussions. I gave myself a mental smack on the head and said, “If you’re not comfortable, we can—”

  “Lyra!” came a sharp, small voice from inside the building. A little girl pushed through the front door and ran up to me, all cheery. I sounded an oomph as the little menace slammed into me. I pulled her up, laughing. Seeing Embera always cheered me up. When I lifted her, she wrapped her arms around my neck. “You haven’t visited us in so long,” Embera said, snuggling into my neck. “I missed you.”