by R A Lindo
“Not the tame ones,” I add, taking Harvey’s glass as a prompt to drink faster. “Anyway, I think we should check out how tame they are first with a little trip to Drandok. If all looks well, we’ll see if Odin and Neve want what they seem to be looking for: a way of finding out who masters the skies.”
“Conrad, obviously,” adds Ilina, adjusting the flowers in her hair. Unlike a lot of the girls my age, she isn’t flirtatious around Conrad which isn’t to say she doesn’t like him. There’s liking and having, though.
“Maybe I am and maybe I’m not,” Conrad comments in reference to him being the best sky rider, “but it’ll be a good test. It’s also a way to stay sharp, something The Orium Circle need to consider. It’s all well and good not wanting any sort of intense competition, but if we’re not careful we’ll have lost our edge if and when another enemy raises its head.”
“Good point,” Jalem acknowledges, “but there are much easier ways of staying sharp, Conrad, like what Jacob’s doing with his class. Rucklz on a grand scale ... all the competition you need.”
“It’s just a thought,” Noah concludes, wanting to climb on top of the bar and let loose. “For all we know, Odin and Neve were just being their weird selves, doing the whole silent treatment thing.”
“They were there for a reason,” I declare, urging Noah onto the bar as Zoe Tallis makes an appearance, turning a lot of heads, “but that’s for another day. Let’s see if Noah can finally hit those notes.”
“Here we go,” Conrad mutters, grimacing in expectation of another racket.
As Noah gets the crowd’s attention, he clears his throat, throwing a glance in Zoe Tallis’ direction. She’s kind enough to smile at his mild obsession, showing no signs of genuine interest. Not that this put’s Noah off as he belts out the first lines of a famous Society tune.
He signals for the merry members to sing along which they dutifully do, laughing and clinking glasses as Noah hits full stride, failing to hit a single note. The cheers explode in Rebel’s Rest as the song ends, Noah jumping down from the bar to a round of applause.
“Well …?” he asks as he always does, leaving Harvey to choose his words carefully.
“Just checking, were you singing Give me Remedy …?”
I burst out laughing with the others as Noah gets Harvey in a headlock, rubbing the top of his head until he’s rubbing thin air …. Harvey using the Disira charm to escape … re-appearing for a proposed duet.
“Well, come on, then,” Harvey calls over to us, understanding there’s no duel without the agreed duet.
Conrad offers me a nervous grin, stepping onto the bar with visions of flight and fury urging him on. We shuffle closer together, taken along by the slow clapping and raised glasses, the song we all know ringing around us: The Ballad of Rebel’s Rest.
It’s a ridiculous song about the wizards who refused to leave the place we’re in now, singing until the Society elders gave in. We sing along with the crowd, adding ridiculous gestures to raise the spirits: a group of friends who meet up to do normal teenage things, like staying out late and planning things to give adults sleeplessness nights.
The ground floor of The Cendryll rests in darkness, the Quij asleep on the bookshelves underneath the skylight — their beautiful glow not needed in the witching hours. It’s close to 3 a.m. Rebel’s Rest finally kicking us out when the owner couldn’t keep his eyes open. More like kicked through to be precise, the string on the lamps lining the walls used to transport us home.
Home is The Cendryll — the place I’ve never really left and have no intention of leaving. Jacob’s got my mum’s room on the fifth floor, and I stay in the room I used to share with Kaira: the fourth floor quarters vacated by Kaira’s aunt, Philomeena. A teenage girl needs her space, after all, but this doesn’t extend to night time visits from a certain boy, pinching my waist to get the desired reaction.
We’ve got The Cendryll to ourselves at this hour. It’s been a long day and there are things to discuss, not least Conrad’s growing interest in a duel that could get us into hot water. The least we’ll have to do is discuss it with Casper and Philomeena: Kaira’s dad and aunt who still run The Cendryll.
They’re not here as much, splitting their time between magical duties and time with Kaira. I think about Kaira a lot, wondering how I can get her back into the fold, but she’s gone for now, doing her own thing and forging her own path. She’s happy but things aren’t quite the same without her.
As we head to The Seating Station, I take Conrad’s hand and lead him to Quandary Corner — an isolated seating area that rests in the shadows. Some places resonate, almost taking you back to the time you wish you had again. Quandary Corner was my place; our place where the endless wonders began.
I steal a quick kiss once we’re perched in Quandary Corner, feeling more comfortable that it’s out of view of the spiral staircase. The Seating Station provides more space but not the secrecy required, so we cuddle up in Quandary Corner, looking up at the skylight filled with stars, happy to sit together while the rest of the faculty sleeps.
Churchill is still here: Kaira’s cat. He always senses our presence so will appear at the top of the spiral staircase soon. Until then, my focus is on a boy with a renewed purpose: to prove his gift for flight once more.
“It could be dangerous,” I say as Conrad pulls me closer.
“Only up to a point. We’re allies after all, making it a perfect platform for sky rider training. I mean, look at what we learnt in Gilweean, free falling from our Williynx and spiralling through tunnels of ice toward the earth. If this plays out, we might have found another training ground.”
“I say we track them first … see how The Domitus tame the Riadek, then we decide on the duel. It’s got to fit within Society parameters, you know that, and that means no inciting of conflict. We’re not immune from banishment.”
“Fair enough,” he says, looking up at the skylight.
“You think you can take them, don’t you?” I prompt, studying his intense expression. “Beat them in a friendly battle.”
Conrad nods. “I can hold my own in the skies, but it’s more about missing the intensity of battle: the adrenaline rush.”
“Let’s just make sure Odin and Neve aren’t drawing us into a trap first.”
“Like what?”
“Like an ‘accident’ in the skies, spreading the fear that forced Alice Aradel out of hiding.”
The expected conversations begin early next morning as The Cendryll bursts into life, the Quij floating down to offer their morning greeting.
We stayed up all night, only catching sleep in the few hours before dawn. Sometimes, it’s nice to just be away from things, tucked up in a familiar location. That’s what I wanted last night after our return from Rebel’s Rest: to capture the magic of a spectacular universe at rest.
We get to our feet as the doors start to swing open, welcoming familiar faces to the bustling faculty responsible for remedies. The traffic is as busy leaving through the doors, either returning to above-ground duties in the many shops or simply wanting a dose of normality.
It’s not something I miss, the everyday existence of a world devoid of magic. I thought I’d miss my friends when I found out about the S.P.M.A. but they were few and far between in the first place — the ones I did see above ground struggling to find things to talk about.
Most friendships are fickle, anyway, based on circumstances and convenience. I know how lucky I’ve been with the friends I’ve got now, beginning with Kaira’s appearance: a friend I hope I’ll see soon. For now, it’s time to discuss the rumours of a duel with Kaira’s dad and aunt — Casper and Philomeena — who move in their graceful manner near the spiral staircase.
They spend time with talkative Cendryll members they once kept their distance from. A lot has changed since then, including the sky urchins offering advice to the youngest amongst us: Jacob’s class of inquisitive students who’re desperate to pass their trial, determining whether th
ey stay or leave.
Yoran has endless patience, an elderly sky urchin currently explaining the powers and limitations of a Disira charm to Ethan Lyell. Ethan is clever but relies on his charm and good looks. It’s dawning on him that he’s in a fierce competition with his classmates — none of them keen to give the other an advantaged. They’ve got a lot about the power of unity.
As Ethan reaches out for a book delivered by a bottle-blue Quij, he keeps time with Yoran, running over the key principles of the Disira charm. He’s got all the hallmarks of a Renn except for the intensity which, I imagine, will come in time. His great uncle and aunt, Casper and Philomeena, stop to talk to him, asking how he’s settling in. He loves it here but is also under no illusions. Family names give you no advantage: you cut it or you don’t.
Ageing giants and Williynx are the other two new additions to The Cendryll, a flurry of feathers filling the hollow chamber each morning. Kerevenn is the most regular face on the ground floor, his thin, stooped figure now dressed in light blue, discarding the grey uniform of Sad Souls: the land of ageing giants.
Hovering near The Seating Station, Kerevenn is still negotiating his way into the hearts of the Society elders, working out the subtle rhythms of The Cendryll as he offers assistance to whoever needs it. He hasn’t worked out that he doesn’t work for anyone here; he’s an equal, still struggling to come to terms with this after decades at the beck-and-call of senior Society members.
Kerevenn looked after my mum after her ‘mishap’: the reason she’s not allowed here anymore. His kindness is part of his interaction with others, and it was this very kindness that stopped my mum falling into the hands of those wanting revenge. Mum had a power complex, treating others like underlings and being unnecessarily cruel. Not many people ask about her now: a sign of the hurt she caused.
The other reason she’s still got some form of protection, hidden in the twisted building on the Society margins, is down to Casper and Philomeena Renn. Unlike my mum, they’ve always worn their power with ease: a mark of those with a calling.
You can tell Casper misses Kaira, the daughter he brought into the S.P.M.A. to protect her. Things escalated faster than he could have imagined, forcing us to learn defensive and protective charms at rapid speed before the battlefield called.
I wonder how often Casper hears from Kaira, and if she’s passing through soon. I hope she does so we can spend some time in familiar places like Wimples and Merrymopes, feeling like we’re slipping back in time when we were consumed by the wonder of it all: a wonder that never truly leaves you.
“Glad to see you made it home,” Philomeena says with a smile, her maternal instincts keeping an eye on me.
“It’s Conrad’s fault; he started singing.”
Casper raises his eyebrows. “Singing?”
“To win a bet,” Conrad explains, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to stay alert.
“So we hear,” Casper adds, the handsome, mixed-race features offering a look of caution. “A duel is highly unlikely to get the approval of The Orium Circle, Conrad. After all, you’re talking about competing with creatures only recently tamed.”
“It would be a way to stay sharp, though.”
“Maybe,” Philomeena adds, “but it sends the wrong message: that conflict is still a common feature of Society interaction.”
“We were thinking of visiting Drandok?” I ask as I stand, keen to get in the shower. “To see how they tame the Riadek.”
“No harm in that,” Casper adds, studying us as he takes out a Follygrin: a sign he knows we’re up to something.
13
A Question of Intent
Talk of Drandok gains pace later in the day after we offer greetings to other familiar faces. Noah and Lucy arrive in The Cendryll through one of the many doors lining the ground floor, having received word of our meeting via Scribberals.
Noah and Lucy are based in a different Society faculty — The Leverin — so Scribberals are used to communicate meeting points before another evening of Night Ranging begins.
Jacob’s also present, having taken the rest of the day off. He wants his students to experience various teaching methods: Farraday on hand to remind the class of the beauty and danger of all magical things.
According to Jacob, the students fell into complete silence when Farraday entered the small classroom on the second floor for the first time, their awe-struck gazes falling onto a wizard who’s scarred body tells its own tale.
Part of me suspects that Jacob’s taken the morning off after hearing rumours of our planned duel in Drandok. Ever the protective older brother, he still appears when he’s worried about me, offering gentle reassurance and guidance whenever he feels the need.
The question of darker rhythms leads the conversation, the five of us gathered around the dining table in the middle of the room. I love the elegance and eccentricity of my personal space in The Cendryll, inherited from Philomeena who spends less time here now. Velvet sofas sit in each corner of the room and a collection of Quij flutter in the kitchen, illuminating a space that seems to stretch to the heavens.
Lunch has been made by Conrad, the steak and salad gobbled down, everyone present keen to discuss our meeting with Odin and Neve last night. There’s being detached and being altogether shifty, not that shady people don’t exist in the Society: they do.
Once doubt is cast, all Society eyes turn their attention to potential misdeeds, committed to maintaining peace where magic, adventure and wonder can flourish. Adventure is the topic of conversation at the dining table perched in the centre of the room. Conrad’s steak and salad has gone down a treat and with Jacob washing up, we get to the topic of duels.
“So, Casper didn’t look too happy about the idea of a duel?” Noah comments, turning to look for seconds in the kitchen. Unfortunately, he’s out of luck.
“Taking out his Follygrin wasn’t a coincidence,” I reply. “He wanted to make a point that we’re still being watched.”
“We’re watched more than you realise,” Jacob states from the kitchen, blowing bubbles to the Quij who hover high above. “Not out of suspicion but protection. Let’s not forget, we’re still some of the youngest members in the Society, and being Night Rangers doesn’t put you above the law.”
“Obviously,” I reply with a touch of annoyance. “It’s just a duel, Jacob … similar to the one you had earlier on The Hallowed Lawn. That got a little violent, didn’t it, so don’t get all high-and-mighty on us.”
Jacob returns to the table, handing Noah a glass of white liquid: Semphul to abate hunger for a boy with hollow legs. “Agreed, Guppy. It did get a little out of hand on The Hallowed Lawn this morning, making me more grateful you and Conrad agreed to help.
The difference is, Rucklz is a game; taming Riadek isn’t and nor is tempting The Domitus into a duel. They’re humourless soldiers who only have one mode of training: ferocity. Things could turn ugly very quickly.”
“You seem to be forgetting that Conrad’s the best sky rider in the Society,” I add, feeling a little defensive. Conrad is pushing the boundaries with his idea for a duel, but we’ve experienced far more dangerous things.
Taming Riadek will be brilliant to see, and then there’s Drandok itself: a realm Society folk don’t clamour to visit. I suppose the idea of ferocious creatures, roaring as they fight against their instructors, doesn’t fill people with joy. I’ve always been drawn to danger, though, meaning I’m probably not destined for a long life.
“Easy, Guppy,” Conrad says, swiping the glass from Noah’s hand and finishing off the Semphul remedy. “Jacob’s just being protective and he’s got a point; the last thing we want to do is stir up trouble.”
“Exactly,” Noah echoes, patting his stomach in the hope there’s more of the hunger remedy on offer. “What’s the point of picking a fight with the Domitus? Let’s just keep things as they are: a lot of fun and a little bit of work.”
“So, we ignore how weird they were in The Shallows?” Lucy counte
rs.
“Why not? Lots of people are weird, Lucy, including you.”
Lucy offers Noah a sarcastic smile, finishing off her steak as slowly as possible as Noah eyes it longingly.
“I say we travel to Drandok to check things out,” Conrad adds, standing as he does so. “It’ll be cool to watch them tame Riadek: a mystery in itself.”
“So, you’re not looking for an argument?” Jacob asks, sitting at the end of the dining table — always the paternal voice of concern.
“No one’s looking for an argument, Jacob,” I reply, “but if their visit to The Shallows was what I think it was, we’ll be up to any challenge they’ve got in mind.”
“What, like a duel?”
“If they want to play with fire,” I reply, which seems to put an end to the debate, leaving Jacob to say his goodbyes, returning to the second floor to see how his students are fairing under Farraday’s tutelage.
“He looks a bit miffed,” Noah states as Jacob closes the door behind him.
“I think he misses the madness,” I reply with a smile, looking forward to a trip to a land where monsters are tamed.
Drandok rests between The Royisin Heights and Saraseai Lake. Its inhabitants take on a number of roles, some taming Riadek while others roam beyond The Society Sphere, using their intimidating presence to ensure mischief doesn’t morph into malice. That’s the official line, anyway.
Night Rangers and sleeping soldiers commit to part-time duties, wanting the freedom to enjoy everything the S.P.M.A. has to offer. That’s where I fit in: a witch with a thirst for life, my attention divided between Society duties and romantic ones. On that note, I keep a close eye on Conrad who seems increasingly agitated.
Olin and Neve Blin have got under his skin — an unspoken challenge he won’t be able to ignore. A duel in the sky, even with tamed Silverbacks, is a dangerous one and if things get out of hand, there’ll be consequences. Being part of the Society army doesn’t get you any special treatment, mainly because most members fight in one way or another.