Dragon Trials (Return of the Darkening Book 1) (11 page)

“Or not,” Turri mumbled darkly. Arkady shot him a look.

“What do you mean?” I asked Turri, but he shied his glance away.

Arkady sighed heavily. He glanced behind him as if worried, and then looked at me again. “There are roadside tales and passed-down gossip starting up again that in the far north, people are forgetting things once again. Village names, where this mountain stood, where that field lays. Some say the Darkening never really left, but was biding its time for a return…that it has come back. And many wonder if the Dragon Riders will be able to defeat it again.”

Turri gave another snort. “The dragons are fat and lazy, the riders a bunch of children—and the magic is lost. We live in dark days, boy. I’m not sure we’re safe even near the dragons.”

I shifted on the log. All this talk of magical stones was starting to make this seem like a tale for children. Still, the stories made me think of what I had heard in the city as well. I asked Arkady, “That is why you are here? To be near the dragons—just in case they can hold back this…the Darkening?”

Arkady put away his pipe and straightened. “We are here to see the dragons.” He gave a firm nod, but I saw a look slip between Arkady and Turri. I thought that while the city folk welcomed the gypsies as travelers, they might not welcome them to stay on longer than a short stay. Arkady seemed to see what I was thinking, for he forced a smile. “The people of the Shaar are brave, but we do not belong on battlefields…or in cites. We belong on the free roads. We will go on as we have, trading, making things, always moving.”

I looked from him to Turri and back. “What if you forget the roads, too? What if you forget your people?”

Arkady and Turri swapped another look, and Turri shook his head. “Let’s talk of better things. When do you think the first snow will come to the mountains, brother?”

The two men began to talk of weather, of the seasons changing. I sat, staring into the fire.

First the rumors of war, and now this talk of the return of the Darkening. I shifted uneasy on the log, no longer warmed by the fire. Perhaps these were just travelers’ tales—but perhaps something was stirring. But why hadn’t the Dragon Rider patrols come back with news of this?

And then I thought about the forgetting—what if the patrols forgot what they had seen? Or what if…what if the Darkening moved in utter darkness, slipping past in such blackness that not even a dragon could see it. I shivered.

I stayed for a little while longer. Turri fell silent, brooding over the talk, I thought. And Arkady took up another story of their travels from the south. But I knew I had to get back to the Academy. The moon rose and I stood to make my goodbyes.

Before I left, I told him, “Tomorrow, if you want to see dragons, go over to the mountain lake. Everyone knows the dragons often fish that lake—Hammal Lake it’s called.”

Arkady clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Farewell, shepherd boy. Do not let the dark frighten you.”

I nodded. But it was not darkness that worried me—it was old enemies of the dragons and the thought that they might be coming back.

A soft tapping drifted into my dreams of flying with Kalax, the wind in my face and Seb grinning at me. I blinked my eyes, waking to see I was alone in the tiny cold room that had been allotted to me on my first day here. Varla had gone home for a few days to visit her sick mother. Our room was in the main stone keep of the Academy. Unlike my room at home, which had thick tapestries and rugs, this room had two beds, a wooden table with a lamp, wooden trunks to hold our clothes, and nothing more. It was cold, drafty and sometimes the kestrels swooped and called outside my window.

The room was high in the keep, which made it surprising to realize someone was actually tapping on the glass of that window. Getting up, I pulled a blanket over my shoulders and stumbled to the window. The cold of the stone chilled my bare feet. A face loomed against the misted glass. I peered out at shaggy brown hair and pale features.

“Seb?” Unlatching the window let in a gust of cold night air. I pulled my blanket tighter. “What do you think you are doing?” The cold left me shivering, but I helped Seb to climb over the sill. He dropped onto the floor, panting, but looking a lot warmer in his woolen cloak. “You could have been killed,” I told him.

Seb threw back his cloak. He had on his old clothes, not the cadet uniform, and he smelled of wood smoke. “What have you been doing? Did you sneak out of the Academy?”

Brushing at the leaves and twigs stuck to his breeches, he grinned. “It’s not so bad out there, there’s ivy up this whole side of the keep, and the oak’s got strong limbs you can climb to get started. But I had to speak to you. I heard something important.”

“It couldn’t wait until morning?” Shivering, I pulled my blanket tighter again and shifted from one foot to the other. “And what could you have heard? Something from your dreams?” I was skeptical. Not only did Sebastian seem intent on ruining our ranking in class, it also seemed like he was dead set on breaking every rule and getting us thrown out of the Academy altogether.

“I went out to clear my head.”

I sighed, went back to my bed and sat on the edge. I wanted to put my head in my hands and howl. Instead, I turned and picked up the striking flint to light the lamp on the table. When it glowed a soft yellow, I turned to Seb. “What am I going to do? You’re a criminal. You are a career criminal!”

“No, I just needed to get away. You’re lucky to have a room to yourself. I don’t. Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is…something bad is stirring. I’ve heard about it twice now.”

I stared at him. “What are you talking about? The Dragon Riders are on regular patrols. They haven’t come back to report anything. There are no armies gathering. We’re at peace with all the other realms.” I peered closer at him. “Are you drunk?”

He came closer. “Have you heard of the Darkening?” he said earnestly.

I had to roll my eyes, but I couldn’t stop another shiver, too. I forced a gruff tone into my voice—I didn’t want to think about those old stories, not in the middle of night. “Of course. Every child hears those old legends. People falling sick, struck dumb, disappearing entirely. But that’s…it’s all just old fairy tales.”

“No,” Seb said in a half-whisper. “No, it isn’t.” He sat down on the bed next to me and took a deep breath. “When I went out the other night, down to the city, I heard two men talking about war, about trouble brewing in the north.”

“People always talk.” I waved my hand as if I could swat away his words. “The riders on patrol haven’t reported anything.”

“Well, what if that’s because they can’t see it from the air? What if it’s hidden in darkness? Besides, when you hear something in Mongers Lane, you listen. Trust me, I know about that. Sure, folks will gossip and argue—but in Mongers Lane rumors are always about others. If the men there are worried about war it’s because that’s a threat to them. Besides, I heard the same story from travelers again tonight. Hearing the same thing twice is not good.”

“Okay, that kind of makes sense,” I said, begrudging him the idea he might be right.

Seb nodded. “The travelers came here to be safe near the dragons, but they’re worried that not even the dragons will be able to turn back this…this Darkening. They say even in the south they hear tales coming back from the far north, and that others are fleeing the edges of the realm.” Seb’s face was pale in the weak lamplight. “It can’t be a coincidence that these stories are spreading.”

I shook my head. “It still doesn’t make sense. There’s been twenty years of absolute peace, and hundreds of years of only small battles before that. Who would dare come against the Dragon Riders? Besides, why hasn’t anyone else heard about this? Why are you the only one seeing this?” I rubbed by eyes and forehead. My head had starting to thud.

“I keep telling you—the Darkening makes people forget. What if patrols saw something—and then forgot. We’re hearing stories right now from travelers and poor woodsmen, Thea, and you’re a friend of the prince. All the noble families know each other. You can ask him about this.”

I lifted my eyebrows high. “And what am I supposed to ask him? Excuse me, Prince Justin, have you heard the old fairy tales about the Darkening? And is it coming back for us?” I felt my cheeks starting to burn just at the mere thought of it. “He would laugh at me and think that I was being a panicky little girl who didn’t know enough to tell a children’s story from fact. You really are trying to get us kicked out, aren’t you?”

“So you’d rather do nothing?” His eyes went wide.

I pushed out a long breath. “Well, if people are talking, I guess I could tell the prince that— it would show I am at least in touch with the people, and he ought to know. So…okay. This once, I’ll do it.”

“Yes, I knew you would!” Seb punched the air, his enthusiasm echoing around the chamber.

“Shhh!” I hushed him, holding a hand up. In the distance, a door slammed and I heard the slap of shoes on cold stone.

A knock sounded on my door, and then a woman’s harsh voice rose up. “Agathea? Are you awake?”

Matron
. I mouthed the word at Seb and put a finger to my lips to keep him quiet.

The maid and matron of these quarters was an older woman who supervised the cleaning of the keep. Normally, the matron would only need to oversee Academy staff, but with two female cadets she had been given added responsibility over us and she made it clear she didn’t like that one bit. She treated me as if I was a stone around her neck, and I knew she’d be just as happy to see me thrown out. Finding Seb in my room was a violation of the rules, and that would be the second mark against me and Seb.

I called out, “Yes, matron—I was just dreaming. Sorry if I woke you.”

“Get back to sleep. You’ll wake the whole keep with dreams like that!” she spoke harshly, but I heard her retreating steps.

I felt bad about the lie. I had never lied to anyone—not my father or my mother or my brothers, but since meeting Seb my life had become more than complicated. I turned to face him.

He gave me a grin. “Quick thinking.”

Getting up, I went to the window. “You have to go. Now. You can’t be caught in my room. I’ll see if I can speak to Prince Justin tomorrow. And don’t get caught climbing down from here.”

Seb nodded. He strode to the window, climbed back out and clung to the ivy that wound up the stone. With a final grin, he disappeared from view.

I closed the window, but stood next to it, staring out at the night, hoping Seb would make it back to the ground safely. By the first dragon, what was he getting me into?
Him and his stories,
I thought. I bit my lower lip and wondered if Sebastian even knew how dangerous the things he was doing could be? He could get himself hurt, and us both thrown out of the Academy, and then our days of dragon riding would be over.

But what if the stories he had heard were true?

I shivered, but I couldn’t go back to bed. The night was cold enough to mist the window again, and I couldn’t see the stars in the darkness. The Darkening—it was just a tale, I thought. But what if it was more? I wished then that my mother had let my father tell me more—or that my brothers had told me more of the stories. But I remembered the dream I’d had—that nightmare of feeling like I had been swallowed by darkness, that I had felt the life and heat draining from my body.

“Just a dream,” I muttered to myself, and I headed to my bed. Under the covers, the down-feather mattress sinking to hold me, I shivered. By Kalax’s hot breath, how was I to convey to the prince these stories without sounding like a child myself? I lay there awake for a very long time, thinking of that.

But I was also thinking of battle—of the chance to do more than prove myself a Dragon Rider on long patrols. What if there was danger coming? Would I get the chance to show not just my father but everyone that I was someone as worthy as the Dragon Riders in the sagas of old?

Morning came too early for me. Seb and his stories had kept me awake, and so I rose with heavy eyes and dragging feet. We were expected to continue with our flying practice, I had to once again promise Seb that I would endeavor to see the prince.

But first I had only one thing I wanted to think about— flying Kalax!

I’d been working with Seb to try and
feel
the dragon’s thoughts. It pushed away any fear—but it wasn’t so much the flying that strung my nerves tight, it was the fear of falling. Putting my focus on Kalax made it better, and I’d gotten so I hardly worried about jumping up into the saddle. Today, the cadets were all practicing the skills we had learned during our weeks of training on the ground and on our fake dragons. This time, however, we would be mounted on real dragons as we glided, swooped and soared.

For me, this meant unslinging my bow and trying to hit tall targets that had been fixed onto the end of the dragon platforms on top of the walls. We were to choose moments when we would have a clear shot across the dragon’s back or neck without the dragon’s wings in the way. Our arrows were blunted, so that no stray shot would hurt any dragon. The tips were also daubed with paint, so any hit—stray or accurate—would be marked. Any cadets who shot their own dragon would be in for a stern lecture from the instructors, and a lot of ribbing from the other cadets.

To start with, it was more than awkward. My arrows kept getting caught in strong gusts from Kalax’s vast leathery wings. But the connection with Kalax that Seb was teaching me made it easier. I could feel the heartbeat of the animal reverberating underneath and through me—it matched the beat of her wings, and I tried to match my breaths and slow my too-quick pulse to match hers.

I hit the target once out of five fly-overs, which was the best that any of us trainees did. And I didn’t hit Kalax—not once. Beris, on his big blue dragon, managed to scrape the poor beast’s wing with one of his practice arrows, causing his dragon to flinch and dive, almost throwing both its riders off of its back.

By mid-afternoon we were all saddle-sore and weary. My arms ached from the effort of holding the bow drawn for the long moments it took to get a clear shot—I wanted to be able to shoot like I did on land, with fast pulls and releases.
How am I ever going to get the hang of this?
I thought.

As Kalax landed, Seb made his usual cooing sounds at the beast to soothe her. I just stowed my bow and arrow with the ties meant to hold them to my saddle. On a sudden impulse, I leaned down to put my hands on her warm scaly side, wishing her thanks for keeping me alive for the past few hours.

There was a pleased rumble from deep inside the dragon. She was purring. “I didn’t know that dragons purred,” I said and unclipped my harness.

“Kalax does, but I haven’t heard Jensen’s or Beris’ dragons doing so yet,” Seb said. He nodded over to the top of the stone wall. “Look over there—the prince. Now’s your chance.”

“Okay, okay.” I shushed him with my hands, feeling ugly and unready. I was sweaty, stinky and dirty from flying, and the prince looked, well, like he always did—perfect in his Dragon Rider’s uniform of a leather jerkin with the badge of a rider, his leather breeches and high boots.

The prince stood near our target with Ryan and one of the other instructors. The choice about talking to him was taken out of my hands as the prince looked up, saw me and beckoned me over. I gulped. No time to change or even wash my face, which I knew had to be stained from dirt and sweat.

“Go on,”
Seb said, nudging me with an elbow. Kalax chirruped and lifted her head. Seb bend over to dismantle the harness from her shoulders and around her wings.

I trudged over to the end of the platform.

Ryan grinned at me. “Cadet, you’re not looking so terrified up there now.”

Hearing the teasing in his voice, I shot him a murderous look but mumbled a thanks. Ryan grinned and gestured to the instructor that he was ready to move on. “Let’s check the other targets for any near hits. Do you think they need more time on their fake dragons to improve their aim?” The two walked off, talking training techniques and bemoaning the current crop of cadets.

Prince Justin turned to me. “Actually, I thought you did very well, even hitting the target.”

Face hot, I forced a smile. “If I only hit one enemy out of every five, the city is going to be in a bad state by the end of any battle.” I noticed Justin’s jaw tighten just a tad.
Oops. Obviously the wrong joke to make
.

But he relaxed and a faint smile appeared. “It took me a good week before I could hit anything. The fact that you hit the target and you didn’t score a hole through your dragon’s wing on your very first day is impressive. It seems that you are doing well.” He looked behind me, to where Sebastian was spending more time scratching Kalax than he was wrestling with the harness. “How is your partner? Before, you had some worries about him?”

Now my face burned for having even mentioned that to my prince. “Oh, he’s… a good navigator, actually, very in tune with the dragon. I just…well, I think it’s just that he’s a terrible student…I think.” I shrugged and let the rest of the words trail off.

Prince Justin chuckled.

Deciding to drop the formality, and talk to him how I had used to talk to him back when we were both children, I said, “There was something that I wanted to ask you about, actually.”

“Anything.”

I wouldn’t get into the habit of promising anything, my prince!
I thought.

He gestured to the stairs. “Will you walk with me?”

I went ahead of him, heading down to the training area and the keep. Inside the keep, in the great room, the staff always put out pitchers of wine and water, and set out a table with cheese and bread for training days. We’d all learned to eat light during the day, and hearty only at the end of the day—you never wanted to go up on a dragon with a full stomach. Jensen had done that once, and had lost his breakfast onto his dragon—his navigator, Wil, wouldn’t speak to him for three days after that, and his dragon wouldn’t let Jenson mount if Jenson so much as had a whiff of bacon on his breath.

The prince poured out a goblet of water for me and I took it. My throat was suddenly dry and my stomach kept jumping. “The students have been hearing rumors of late.”

“Rumors?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. He poured wine into one of the pewter goblets in use at the Academy.

I shrugged and waved vaguely to the north. “I know, perhaps just talk, but we’ve been hearing stories coming out of the north, out of the mountains. Of trouble brewing. Something the patrols may not be seeing.”

He gestured to the bench set near the table. I shook my head. I didn’t want to sit down. With a nod, he asked, “What stories exactly?”

“Oh, just…trouble. Villages in need, people starting to move south out of harm’s way, that maybe there would even be a need for the Dragon Riders…” My words faded off. He had tipped his head to one side, and I couldn’t tell if he was thinking that I was being foolish or not.

The prince paused for a fraction. He wet his lips and shook his head. “Really, there is nothing to worry about. I attend the King’s council meetings every day and hear the reports from every patrol that comes in. The realm is secure.”

“Oh, I’m sure, if you suggest there is nothing to worry about, then of course there isn’t. But…well, talk can be trouble, too. Where do you think these rumors come from?”

Prince Justin sipped his wine and shrugged. “Where else? The mountains and the north breed trouble and fear and nightmares. They always have. And if it is not merchants talking to raise the price of their goods, it is gypsies spreading tales to pull a few coins into their hands or to make excuses why they need to stay on and not head to the dry south so soon, or it is lazy workers seeking a reason to stay home by the fire. Or it is simply talk spread so that folks might puff up their own importance that they know more than anyone else. Honestly, if the Dragon Riders were to follow every tale brought to the King’s council we would be in the skies every day and night. Now, drink up and smile,” he said, raising his goblet. “Cheers.”

I gulped down the water and decided to see just how far I could press my luck. “But what if there is more to the talk this time? If your people are worried, should we not at least make efforts to calm everyone? Perhaps double patrols? And is there anything…anything…I should be preparing for, as someone who will one day be a Dragon Rider?”

His smile softened. “My dear, you really don’t have to worry about anything. You know that I would never see you come to harm or thrown into harm’s way.”

A flash of annoyance sizzled through me. How dare he mollycoddle me, as if I was a weak woman who needed a man to hold my sword. I was training to be not just a rider, but a protector.

Chin high, I stared at him and said through gritted teeth, “I aim to defend my city, my realm, my king and my prince with all my strength, Sire.” I straightened. I wore the uniform of a cadet—and the badge of the Academy.

He seemed to realize that he had offended me, for he swept a bow. “I mean no disrespect, and I had rather wished that I didn’t have to say this, but let me make clear my meaning. I know you and your family, Thea. I fly with your brother, and your eldest brother is captain of my squadrons, but I do not want to worry your father for his only daughter. To that end, I will do all to ensure you are kept safe.”

“Thank you. Your consideration for my family is warmly received, but please do remember, the Flammas have protected Torvald for generations. And my father would be proud of any service I could render.”

The prince nodded. He glanced around us as if looking for who might overhear, and then he dropped his voice lower. “I will confide in you, Thea. There
are
rumors—stories have reached the King’s council. We hear more than most think we do. However, for the most part, it seems the usual winter scare stories. The council is not eager to act rashly—if we give validity to these tales, we may start a panic that is unnecessary. But, please, you have my word, we do worry, and we are beginning to wonder.”

I gripped my goblet more tightly. “What do you think is happening?”

Justin shook his head. “No one can really say for sure. I suspect we may be seeing restlessness in some of the mountain villages—border folk, not Torvald citizens—have had hard winters these last few years. There might not be anything wrong at all, more than the deep snows have convinced them to move south, or they’ve been hit by some sickness. As yet, the King sees no reason for alarm.”

Or maybe the Darkening is returning.
I didn’t say it, but I frowned in thought.

“But enough of such talk!” He smiled and lifted his goblet again. “We should toast to your first armed flight. May the rest of your training go just as well!”

I lifted my goblet and clinked it against his, but I was left wondering if I needed to learn everything I need to know as fast, as I could before I had to use it in a real battle.

*

“Okay, tonight it is then,” I said, rounding on Seb.

“What?” He stared at me, his forehead, eyes and mouth knotted with confusion. I had managed to track him down to the equipment sheds where he was busy polishing the dragon saddles and harnesses, inspecting all the tack we used on Kalax. I realized I had never even considered this part of my duty as a Dragon Rider, and it was obvious that neither did Beris or Jensen, the other cadet protectors. Somehow, I just thought that Kalax’s harness should always be gleaming and fit beautifully, but I hadn’t given any thought to making certain that it did.

I imagined, somehow, that just like my father’s horses, there must be stable boys who cared for the dragon saddles. I thought they would look after both the Dragon Riders and the cadet’s equipment. Now I saw that, for Kalax at least, Seb was doing the upkeep.

It must be his smithy background,
I thought. The harness links shone and were perfectly fitted for an easy and strong connection. The leather had been polished. I was impressed at Seb’s devotion to our red, and I wondered if all of the navigators were like this. I didn’t think they were. I had overlooked this part of what he did for us—our lives depended on the buckles and leather being strong and holding. Seb might have been weak in training—and might ignore a lot of rules—but a growing respect for him stirred inside my chest. Seb had his priorities right. I wanted to make sure mine were in order, too.

“Tonight you’re going to take me to see these gypsies of yours,” I said. I told him what I heard from the prince. Spreading my hands wide, I told him, “He just about admitted me that there is something weird going on in the mountains to the north. We need to know more, and I don’t think I’m going to get anything more from him.”

“The Darkening.” Seb muttered the word. His eyes went wide, in equal parts fear and excitement, I guessed. I was feeling about the same right now.

“And he just said all this to you?” Seb asked. He turned to make sure that the saddles were securely sitting on the hooks that held them to the stone wall.

I crossed my arms. “What—you don’t believe me? Look, if something is going on, we should be ready. I want you to take me to see your gypsy friends, and I want to know everything that I can learn about the Darkening.”