Dragon School: Ancient Allies

Dragon School, Volume 14

Sarah K. L. Wilson

Published by Sarah K. L. Wilson, 2018.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

DRAGON SCHOOL: ANCIENT ALLIES

First edition. July 2, 2018.

Copyright © 2018 Sarah K. L. Wilson.

Written by Sarah K. L. Wilson.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

For my patient Cale.

Chapter One

Kneel and place both palms on your forehead, Raolcan told me mentally.

He was low as well, his wing tips placed against his horns in a similar pose to mine.

It’s how we show respect to the Troglodytes – if we ever meet them at all. What you are witnessing today is truly historic. It is not something that we have seen before or will likely ever see again.

Now, with the dust settling around the Edge of the World, the Troglodytes were arranged in a circle. There were fewer of them than I had thought at first – but they were larger than dragons and the way their insides glowed and sparked under their transparent skin made them a thing of wonder. Raolcan said that they lived underground.

The warrens are theirs – their roads. Their magic. They are the elders of dragonkind – much older than we. Our Queen rules us, but she does nothing without consulting them.

Then what were they doing here?

The Ifrits and the followers of the Crescent Prince had scattered, leaving Prince Rakturan, a handful of others who had been suspended over the edge in baskets, Renn, Raolcan, and me.

They are not happy that the Ya’kar and the Dusk Covenant are calling forth Ifrits. The Ifrits are our mortal enemies – and they have been enemies of the Troglodytes since the days before dragons.

There were days before dragons?

Everyone has to be born some time. We have not always existed. Just like humans, we had a first day.

Rakturan stood, straight-backed and square-shouldered, in the center of the Troglodyte ring. His eyes glowed again – right through the blindfold – and he had a regal presence, like a man in his own home. He was welcoming guests, rather than gasping for life on the edge of a cliff.

He suits this role. He looks like a true prince.

Raolcan would know. After all, he was a prince of dragons. Did the Troglodytes care about that?

They are not much concerned with hierarchy. In their minds, everyone dies shortly after becoming interesting.

How long did these creatures live?

The youngest here today is more than five hundred years old.

Good grief. Rakturan had been standing there in silence for a long time. Was he going to speak?

They can speak to his mind. They require no words.

Of course not. So, maybe Purples got their ability to speak to minds from the Troglodytes.

Or from our mothers. They speak as we do.

Purple mothers?

All dragon mothers.

Curious. I was already learning a lot.

“Amel,” Renn tugged at my sleeve. I turned to him and he smiled. “Nice work with whatever that light thing was. Looks like we’ll get to negotiate with someone after all.”

“I don’t think so, Renn.”

“I’m the Gold here, Amel.” He was mild in his scolding, but I still almost laughed. “It’s my prerogative to handle negotiations.”

“You’re going to negotiate with the elders among the dragons when Prince Rakturan is already speaking with them?”

He frowned, clearly reconsidering. “And do you think we can convince this Rakturan to broker peace?”

“With who?”

“With the Dominion!” He was looking at me like I’d lost my mind.

“He’s already married to the Chosen One. I’m not sure what more he could do. I’m here to ask him for military help on her behalf. If you have something else to add to that ... ?”

He rubbed a hand through his hair. “I’m suddenly feeling a bit like an extra dragon on dragon-picking day.”

Poor guy. He really did believe he was doing good things. Maybe what I saw as wishy-washiness was just him trying to run in too many directions at once.

“I bet there will be a lot of negotiating to come, Renn. Prince Rakturan needs to rally the enemies of the Crescent Prince under his own banner and march to the Dominion. I’m willing to be that will require at least some negotiation.”

He perked up. “More than you could possibly guess.”

“And isn’t that Ahummal on the horizon?”

I saw the golden frilled dragon in the sky flying toward us, but he wasn’t alone. Beside him, flagging slightly, flew a pearly white dragon. Enkenay! I’d almost grown to miss his stubborn face.

He missed us, too.

They landed beside us – to Renn’s delight – and Raolcan leaned in toward Enkenay companionably. Renn turned back to me.

“I read the book for you. We were in that basket together. Was that enough for you to finally trust me?”

Not even close. But you couldn’t say that to someone, could you?

“Friends,” I offered, saluting.

“Friends!” He looked much more buoyant, clearly taking my words at face value.

And now, we are being summoned.

I swallowed. I was nervous to meet the Troglodytes.

Not by them. By the man you saved.

We stepped forward at the same moment that Rakturan turned to look at us. The remaining refugees had gathered behind us – possibly thinking it was the safest place to be – but his eyes found me immediately and he signaled for me to step forward. I obeyed.

“I owe you a debt of gratitude, Amel Leafbrought of the Purple and Raolcan, Prince of Dragons,” he said.

“Savette sent a message with me,” I replied, too shy to acknowledge his thanks. “She begs that you bring your allies and come to support her in the war at the heart of the Dominion.”

He watched us, perhaps considering what to say. Glowing eyes and a blindfold made it hard to guess what was going on in a person’s mind. Eventually, he spoke.

“That will be a problem. Before we can help with anything, we’re going to need some allies.”

Chapter Two

DO YOU THINK WE CAME HERE FOR NOTHING?

The words sounded like they were in my mind – but not like Raolcan’s. These words felt almost as if they were being hammered into my skull. I fell to my knees once again. It was hard to concentrate with their booming words lacerating my mind.

That’s why they don’t make a lot of friends.

OUR HOME, LONG SAFE FROM THE STORMS OF THE UPPER WORLD, HAS BEEN THREATENED.

Was the whole world being affected by this battle? I leaned down deeper into the dust and I felt Renn doing the same beside me. There was something about the Troglodytes that demanded respect.

YOU WILL FIGHT FOR US.

“We have no armies. No weapons. No way to fight for you,” Rakturan protested.

WE SHALL GIVE ALL PRESENT HERE A TOUCH OF OUR GIFT.

What was their gift?

Visions. They see things that no one else can.

That didn’t seem like a way to win a war. I could think of much better gifts for that.

This is the only one they are offering.

“Thank you,” Rakturan was bowed down, too.

YOU SHALL RETURN THE IFRITS TO THE EARTH.

Why would they want that? Didn’t they want the Ifrits gone? And didn’t they live beneath the earth?

They mean that we should eradicate them – kill them all.

I was going to get along just fine with these Troglodytes. Anyone who wanted the Ifrits gone was good in my books.

They deserve our respect. Dragons owe everything to them.

That was a story I needed to hear.

Another time, perhaps.

One day I was going to sit him down and make him tell me all these stories he kept on putting off, even if it took a full week.

From behind us, the dozen or so survivors pushed in, trying to see the Troglodytes and yet hide behind us at the same time. Wouldn’t I feel the same way if there was anyone to stand in front of me?

For someone who claims to prefer the background, you sure push yourself to the front a lot.

Push myself? Ha! I was shoved into these situations.

Face it, you could still be a girl living in a farmhouse doing kitchen chores. You chose this life and even if it’s a bit scary sometimes, it suits you.

Why were the Troglodytes so quiet? Was that all they had to say?

Traditionally, they say very little, but they are speaking to Rakturan directly now. They have chosen him as their Champion to quell the Ifrit invasion.

Champion?

Occasionally the Troglodytes will choose a Champion for a mission they feel is of vital importance in the upper world. It is a very rare thing. Clearly, they are furious about the Ifrits.

DO YOU AGREE TO DESTROY THE IFRIT THREAT?

Those words seemed to be for me.

“I do,” I said standing up out of my bow of respect. Fortunately, my crutch had survived the battle. Now that the power had faded from me, I needed it again.

Surprisingly, I heard a chorus of agreement from behind me as the other survivors rose to accept the challenge.

Rakturan raised his fists up and his proclamation was both for them and for us. “I swear by my honor and the honor of Baojang, we will cleanse our land of these Ifrits and pursue them across the whole of the earth if we must. I will build up my nation and restore her glory and together we will destroy the Ifrits.”

RAKTURAN SHALL BE OUR CHAMPION. AS OUR PART IN THIS, ACCEPT OUR GIFT.

I felt a vibration, like a small earthquake rippling beneath me. I clutched Raolcan’s side as my leg and crutch trembled under me and a cold sensation passed through me. The cold and vibration left as suddenly as they had come, leaving me with a headache and a hungry belly, but not much else.

WE SHALL SPEAK TO THE ONE WHO CALLED US HERE.

Called them? Didn’t they just come here on their own? I looked around curiously until Raolcan shoved me from behind with his snout. I stumbled forward.

WE HEARD THE CRY OF YOUR HEART. WE WILL NOT FORGET YOU.

The Troglodytes flared suddenly, a bright burst of light in the night, and then – as one – they slid across the ground and back into the Edge of the World. I wasn’t the only one who gasped at their departure. What did they mean that they heard me?

What did you do exactly?

I’d only been copying Shonan, trying to access the power of Truth and the prophecies.

Clearly, it worked. It also spoke to the Elders. I’m honored to be the dragon of someone who has caught their notice.

He actually sounded serious.

Dead serious.

I looked around at the barren desert and the tall tower. Our enemies had fled, and our allies were gone. What did we do now?

The survivors behind me rushed forward, pushing past the dragons as if they were nothing more than landscape and crowding around Rakturan. They spoke rapidly in their language, excitement in their voices. He stood out among them like a raven among sparrows, his fierce expression even fiercer than usual as he answered. He perfectly fit this place of stark sun and rock.

“They pledge their loyalty to him,” Renn said from beside me. He looked tired. “He accepts it. It looks like we’re about to be a part of a major fight for the Baojang throne.”

“I’ve already delivered my message. It’s time for me to fly on,” I said.

“Amel?” Rakturan silenced the man speaking to him with a raised hand, his attention on me now. I felt like I was caught in the gaze of a predator. “You aren’t talking about leaving, are you?”

I shuffled slightly. There was no reason to stay. I’d delivered my message. I didn’t even know the language here.

“Why should I stay?”

He left the crowd of people around him and joined us, standing where he could face both Raolcan and me directly.

“This situation is a difficult one – fraught with the potential for disaster. I need people I can trust to stand with me and I need the guidance of another prince.” Here he looked at Raolcan. “I can trust you both. We’ve seen battle together. We value the same things. We are fighting to bring help to Savette – my wife. Will you stay with me and help me to gather the support I need?”

If I did, then it would be long weeks or even months before I saw Leng or Hubric or Savette again. I nibbled my lip, worrying about what he wanted me to commit to. I wasn’t sure that I could. They needed me at home.

“What would you want from us?”

“I have an uncle to the north. Rumor has it that he has not thrown his support to either side of the civil war yet. I want you to take this Gold Dragon Rider with you – he speaks our language – and deliver to my uncle a message asking for his support. The Gold can help with the negotiations. And, of course, my uncle and those of high positions speak Dominion.”

I grimaced. If I had been born a Castelan like Savette, I’d be able to speak the tongue of Baojang. What did Raolcan think of this plan?

I think that we can’t help Savette if we return without the allies she needs. Let’s commit to this first step, at least.

“I’ll deliver the message, Rakturan, and of course I want what you want. But I don’t want to promise to stay here if I need to go later.”

He nodded, frustration in his eyes. “But you’ll stay for as long as you can?”

“Yes,” I agreed.  But now I was worried. I felt a constant pull toward the Dominion and my friends there and I had no desire to stay here with Rakturan. Everything about this place was foreign and strange and I felt like I was packed in wool – I couldn’t understand what I was hearing or speak to anyone except Rakturan or Renn.

“Then we’ll speak about the details in the morning.”

I nodded, but my heart was sinking. I felt unmoored – like a ship adrift at sea. I had no purpose in this place. I was just extra.

See, I told you that you like being at the center of things. Why don’t you get some sleep? You’ll feel better in the morning.

Chapter Three

We searched the tower before anyone went to bed. It was empty of people but had water and supplies within as well as beds. It appeared to be an outpost of some kind. Perhaps a hidden fortress for the Ya’kar, like the Lightbringer safehouses back home. I listened as the people around me divided up the beds and spoke together, often consulting Rakturan. They were warriors, if I was guessing correctly. Though they had no weapons, they moved with the muscular power of people who were used to using their bodies for a purpose. He’d be fine here with them.

I slept the night with the dragons. Life was safer and happier when Raolcan was near and it was nice to be reunited with Enkenay – even if he did snore. Raolcan hadn’t explained where he was when Rakturan was captured. He said it was none of our business.

I was surprised when I turned over in my sleep and found Renn sleeping next to Ahummal. He’d never explained what had happened to his dragon when he was captured, but he seemed as attached to him as I was to Raolcan. Maybe there were good traits to Renn after all.

I finally fell into a fitful sleep – or was it sleep? – because if I was dreaming, then this was the most real dream I’d ever had. I was watching as Hubric and Haskell snuck through the shadows. I knew – without knowing how I knew – that Kyrowat was waiting at a nearby safehouse. They paid a man in the shadows, coins glinting in the moonlight, as he hustled them into a wide basket. The rope tightened and hauled them upward.

“It will be fine, Haskell. Cara has a place for us in the city.” He kissed her gently on the cheek. It was still strange to see Hubric acting gently.

“You heard the news as clearly as I did, Hubric. Purple Dragon Riders aren’t just barred from the city. Any found here are being imprisoned – if they live long enough for the authorities to find them. I’m worried about you.”

“If we can get to Handras and the Lightbringers in the city there’s still time to rally support for Savette. If we can’t, then she’ll ride into a trap. Stay hopeful, Haskell. We aren’t beaten yet.”

The vision merged into a view of Shonan. He stood at a gate very similar to the Dawn’s Gate, but smaller – only wide enough for a single dragon to enter. He stepped through and the dream faded again.

This time I saw Leng sleeping beside a lake. Something dark shuffled through the nearby shadows. He woke suddenly, and I felt a pang at seeing his face. I missed him! I missed the calm way that he stood up, drew his knife and furtively loaded his dragon without being seen by the shadows. I missed his cool expression as he carefully slid onto Ahlskibi’s back, missed the bravery in his eyes as Ahlskibi leapt into the sky at the same moment that the shadows behind him pounced.

An Ifrit roared behind Ahlskibi, its hand barely missing him as it snatched out and tried to snag Leng off his back, but the Purple was too quick. He corkscrewed through the air in a wide trajectory, evading attack and then flung his wings outward, cupping the air, and swooping through a low grass-brushing dip before flapping madly to gain back the height he’d lost.

I strained to catch another glimpse of Leng, but now my vision was knocked away and I came up gasping as I watched Savette lift a hand while an Ifrit before her crumbled to dust. A Red Dragon Rider lunged between her and a human foe, throwing the man to the side just before a wave of armed man crashed into their ranks. Grunts and the din of weapons crashing on one another filled the air along with gusts of smoke as dragons spewed fire. I was surprised by the silence of it. I expected it to be louder, but the sweat and blood-soaked battlefield was more filled with heavy breathing, grunts and the occasional clang of metal on metal or the horrifying thump of meat being smacked with a cleaver than anything else. Savette’s light seared one enemy after another, the brightness dimming the appearance of the full moon with its intensity.

I woke with a gasp. What was that?

Your new gift. The one the Troglodytes gave you. Visions of what is.

Was it better or worse to know what they were up against? Better or worse to see them in situations I couldn’t affect?

At least you know they live. You know they continue to fight.

It was still dark when I shook out my blanket and gathered the water and supplies that Rakturan’s people had given me the night before. I stowed it carefully in Raolcan’s saddle.

Just a few more hours...

He closed his eyes again, sinking into sleep, but I was in no mood to rest. Moodily, I wandered towards the edge of the tear in the ground. The Troglodytes had disappeared into that rift, walking like their feet were sticking to the wall. I wish I knew more about them. They fascinated me.

I wasn’t the only one struggling to find rest tonight. I found Rakturan standing along the side of the tear, his shoulder-length hair had grown, and it swirled in the wind behind him. He’d tied the blindfold around his whole head so that it held his hair back as well as covering his eyes. His expression was firm in the moonlight. He spoke without turning to look at me.

“Dreams?”

“I saw Savette fighting Ifrits.”

“As did I.”

“How will you unite Baojang under your leadership?” If he didn’t have a plan, we would never be able to accomplish something so big in time to bring real help to my – to our – friends.

He chuckled. “Look how much you’ve grown up since I met you, Amel Leafbrought. You don’t shy away from questioning princes when just a few months ago speaking to one would make you nervous.” His expression sobered. “I hope my uncle will have an idea. I’ve already written a note to him asking for his wisdom. It’s the message you’ll be delivering tomorrow. Trust no one else along the way and avoid towns or cities. Anyone you find might try to kill you.”

“I’m still not sure I’m the best person to do this job,” I said.

“You’re the only one I have to send.” He turned to look at me. “I must take the others to meet our army south of here. If any of them remain alive.”

I swallowed. Was he nervous about that? His side hadn’t appeared to be winning when we flew over.

“Where will I find you when your uncle is ready with a reply?”

“A’cauib. He will know how to contact me.”

He looked back to the horizon. What other visions had he seen? What friends did he worry about?

“The Crescent Prince is a prince, and you are the Dark Prince. Are you brothers, then?”

He barked a laugh. “Hardly. Each Prince of Baojang is a war chief. We lead our people in our own districts. We negotiate trade and rights to water or pasture. We are not the Dominion. It is rare here for us to be led by a single war leader – though sometimes it happens. More often, we make decisions together as we try to determine what is best for our people. The rules of who we must follow and why are as complicated as water treaties.”

“Are those complicated?”

“More than you could imagine. Our lives and prosperity depend on them.”

I knew nothing about this place.

“I need this message delivered, Amel – no matter what you must do to get it to its destination.” He handed me a soft cloth roll. “There’s a map inside as well. Follow it with care.”

“I will.”

He nodded. “Much depends on this. Do not fail. And think about staying with me here. We need people willing to do whatever it takes for the good of this world. Don’t think I missed everything that happened in that basket. I know what you are capable of accomplishing.”

I nodded. It was starting to dawn on me that as a Purple I’d always be helping someone else with their goals. If I was honest, it was the perfect role for me. Things were looking more hopeful.

“You guys can’t sleep either, eh? I guess even Princes can have insomnia from time to time.” Renn had crept up on us unexpectedly. “When do we leave?”

“At first light.”

Chapter Four

In the heat of the day, the landscape below us was so full of mirages that it was impossible to tell what was real and what was not. We’d been flying for hours, leaving the tower behind at first light and heading straight for a sprawling range of mountains in the distance. We were over them now, their rolling forms like ripples in a pond as the heat rose up and wavered in the sun.

“I’m sending you over the mountains,” Rakturan had said. “It’s not a normal path anyone would take unless they were on Sentry-back. It’s my hope that our enemies did not flee in that direction. There are no paths, towns, or havens.”

True to his word, it was a very lonely place. It looked almost as if two huge hands had taken the earth and jammed it together so that it was all scrunched up in successive ripples. Nothing about the land below looked inviting. Not that anything in Baojang was particularly inviting.

I think this is the Fa’loro range. There are sacred places on the edges of the range where the war leaders meet. Or so the lore says.

They had a lore about this place?

The mountains are sacred. Long ago, the ancestors of Baojang wandered this wilderness and by some mercy, they survived this waterless desert. They were people of great power and many kinds of magic and as the days trickled into years they faced disaster after disaster. Food was scarce, snakes came into their camps killing strong and weak alike, raiders attacked their camps stealing what little they had and leaving carnage in their wake.

Over time, their numbers grew smaller and smaller, and they had to leave some of their powerful artifacts behind – they were too heavy to haul through the barren countryside. They set wards and protections for these objects to keep them safe from any but their own descendants, but in time, even their own children forgot how to regain their heritage and now these objects remain under lock and ward awaiting the day that someone may free them and gain the power for themselves.

Wouldn’t that draw a lot of people trying to get these things? If it was the Dominion, there would be towns set up nearby so that people could sell food and lodging to the hundreds of people who would try to get a hold of these objects.

The wards are powerful. Many Baojang leaders try to acquire them. Some die in the process. Others are driven mad. It would take desperation to try at all – a gamble in the hope that you could pull something off that thousands of others failed to achieve.

Then why was I so curious to try?

I swear, you’ll be the death of me. You always think you’re the exception to every rule.

But if they put them there, then they had to have left a way to get them back. They had to have set some kind of way to unlock them...

And you think no one from Baojang has thought the same thing? You think none of them have researched and interviewed the elderly and studied these wards – some of them for most of their lives? You think you would be the first fool to swoop in and think you knew better?

Well, obviously he was right, but a part of me still longed to seek these artifacts out and see if I could access one.

Let’s stick with our current quest, hmmm? I think you’ll find it challenging enough.

We paused for a break in late morning, in the shadow of a great rock. It towered so high that even the dragons were able to hunker low in the shade behind it, their claws digging into the loose dirt that was still cool from morning. I closed my eyes in relief at the shade, but we couldn’t wait here long. It would be gone by noon, despite the height of the towering rock.

“See how it is worn around the base?” Renn asked me as we sipped our ration of water slowly. “The winds blow fast and furious through this mountain range, twisting and channeling through the narrow spots and kicking up sand in their powerful blast. It wears rocks smooth and carves channels through the softer rock like it is no more than sand on a shore.

I shivered. Even solid rock wasn’t immune to the pressure of this place. I pulled out my book of Ibrenicus prophecies. Was this book for Baojang, too? It had just as much effect here as in the Dominion, despite our distance from Savette.

“Still reading that?” Renn asked casually.

“You should be glad that I am,” I answered. “Didn’t you see how it helped us in the basket?”

“I saw that the Troglodytes helped us. They were something to see!”

“But you’re a Lightbringer! I’ve never met a Lightbringer who didn’t believe in the book! Or was that a lie?”

“Oh, I’m a Lightbringer. But you heard me – I do it to bring equality for everyone. I like the themes of the Ibrenicus prophecies. Hope and Light – these are good things! They’re what we need to really see that everyone deserves a place in society – that no one should be excluded or looked down upon. That matters to me. But have you really paid attention to the words? They’re a bit ridiculous. They were written hundreds of years ago. They weren’t meant for a time like today. It’s the themes you should focus on not the words.”

If Hubric heard that, he’d be spitting iron filings. To him – to me – the actual words mattered.

“So, how do you get along with other Lightbringers?”

Renn slid down from Ahummal’s back, stretching his back and kicking out his legs to release tension. He leaned against Raolcan’s saddle and offered me a pleasant smile.

“I think maybe you’ve been around the more ... intense ... factions in the Lightbringers. We aren’t like the Dusk Covenant. We aren’t all fanatically devoted to a cause. Some of us are a bit ... much ... but the rest are practical people. We love our neighbors. We want things to be fair and just and prosperous in our land. We don’t sweat the small stuff. Maybe the best thing for someone like you is to meet someone like me before you get way too serious about this Lightbringer life. And by the way, did you know there’s supposed to be an Artifact somewhere near this rock? We’re in a hurry, but I bet we could take a single loop around it just to see before we move on. What do you say?”

How could I say no to that winning grin? He was like a little boy pleading for a raisin cake. I chucked.

“I suppose one circle won’t hurt anything.”

Chapter Five

I think you indulge him too much. A friendly smile isn’t everything. Do you forget what he did when the cards were down? He let our enemies haul us away.

That was true, and I was still a bit worried about trusting him, but he did have good motives. He was trying to negotiate with people for peace. And he seemed to really care about including people and finding a fairer world for everyone.

Was it fairer to you when he let our enemies capture us?

Well, it wasn’t like he could stop that. We were surrounded and outnumbered. He just didn’t want to blow his chance to speak to them. After all, I’d let other people take big risks to accomplish things that really needed to happen.

Just don’t let your guard down too far. His pretty face affects you too much. I don’t trust him.

Why not?

I don’t like people who are too grey – who waffle – who obfuscate – who always have an easy smile and a ready answer for everything.

That was a pretty long list of people he didn’t like. Oh, there! There was something unusual up ahead. Maybe Renn was right about an artifact being here!

The landscape ahead of us formed a bowl with a wide ledge on one side – like a platform. I could almost imagine it being filled with hundreds of people, while someone on that ledge spoke to them all. Something manmade stood at the center of the ledge. Renn pulled ahead of me, landing Ahummal on the wide ledge. Raolcan fit easily on the other side.

This place could easily be made for dragons. It’s just the right size and shape for an assembly of us.

Was the whole valley man-made?

Only this strange thing we’re looking at, I think.

And it was indeed, very strange.

A pillar of stone rose from the shelf as if it was one with the land. Sticking half-out of the pillar, buried in the stone, as if the stone had been formed around it like clay and then left to dry – was something that looked like a silver pipe. It was as long as my forearm with a reed at the top and holes along the side of it. A scrolled arm that looked adjustable flourished to one side of the instrument – possibly part of what made the sound of the pipe. The pipe was slender – delicate, even – about the width of my finger and all along the length of it a line of script wove and swirled like music.  Could Raolcan read that?

No.

The instrument glowed a faint, pulsing green and as I looked at the glow – unbidden, I had a creeping sensation wash over me, as if a thousand fleas skittering over my skin. I shuddered and looked away. It would be interesting to know if the instrument could be tugged from that rock, but we couldn’t reach it if we tried.

The pillar was enclosed in a cage – an angry, barbed, black metal contraption. It did something strange to the eyes so that every time I tried to look at it, my gaze slipped past the cage. I fought the impulse, trying to study it, but only wound up with a headache. I had the impression that there were many layers of braided, interlocking wires with jagged edges, flourishes, and barbs and some sort of knot-like decorations, but I couldn’t have drawn or described the pattern since my eyes refused to settle on any part of it. At the pinnacle of the cage, there was the image of an insect – intricate in design and inlaid with silver. That – at least – I could look at without tearing up.

There were also ten handles surrounding the cage – though they were not handles I would want to grip. They were covered in metal spikes – like rose thorns – and if the spattered stains on the ground beneath them were any indication, they were no illusion. Others had held those handles and bled for the privilege.

“I think you should avoid touching it,” I said. My headache made me see stars for a moment, struggling to stay upright as my vision retreated into a world of fizzing and popping white sparks on a field of black. I took deep breaths, leaning against Raolcan as it slowly returned.

I think you should stop looking at it. Take a sip of water.

I obeyed, blinking to clear my vision and leaning my forehead against the cool waterskin. I pulled out the map, studying it carefully. We could leave the mountains tonight if we pressed on. We should leave now so we could set up camp before the sun set.

“Let’s go, Renn. We got to see it, but we have a long way to fly today.”

“Just a moment.” His voice was absent as he concentrated on the cage. “These artifacts contain the power of the ancients. Can you imagine what that is like? There were peoples and civilizations here long before Baojang. Cultures that flourished and died – some that would put ours to shame! The customs, the laws, the technology that they would have had! I dream of knowing all of it, of studying it and writing down every part of it ...”

“Well, here’s your first chapter. But I don’t think we should hang around. This thing gives me a strange feeling. It wasn’t meant for us. Let’s go deliver our message.”

“... of taking it as my own...”

He reached out a hand.

“No!”

My shout was too late. The second his hand touched the cage his arms and legs shot out to the side – spread-eagled – and he froze in place, his mouth a rictus of pain. Raolcan flapped a single wing, knocking Renn off his feet and whatever strange power had held him loosened its grip as he fell bonelessly to the ground.

Chapter Six

It took me the better part of an hour to sling Renn’s unconscious form over Raolcan’s saddle in front of me. Raolcan helped by lying low on the ground and tilting to help me maneuver Renn into place. He was heavy, and it was hard to find leverage with only one good leg. He wasn’t dead – thank the skies and stars! I’d thought for sure he would be. Why had I let him bring us here?

Curiosity.

Why had he touched the cage? It was pretty clear that whoever put it here didn’t want people to touch it, or they wouldn’t have made it so that you couldn’t quite look at it.

I’m not sure that common sense is Renn’s strong point.

And what was his strong point?

Let me know when you find out.

I didn’t know what to do to help him. When I’d been snake bitten he’d found an antidote, but what antidote was there to magic wards?

There will be someone at Rakturan’s uncle’s fortress who can help.

He was right, of course – or at least it was our best chance. I cinched the last strap tight on Renn’s restraints and mounted up. There wouldn’t be time for rest breaks after this, we needed to get Renn to help as quickly as possible. Not that it would be easy – he’d been our translator. I frowned with worry as we leapt into the air, Ahummal trailing behind us. At least he had the good sense to follow.

What else will he do? This land is not hospitable to dragons.

Good point.

The sun beat down relentlessly as we flew north and the reflected heat from the ground grew more intense as if every hour in the sky made the land hotter.

The Center Rift is about two weeks flight north of Baojang.

Center Rift?

We dragons believe the world is a sphere. There’s a Rift across the circumference of it – right in the middle – where things are hottest.

Ridiculous.

Because you know so much more about foreign geography than I do...

I needed to travel more so that Raolcan couldn’t always be picking at me about how little I knew.

But then I’ll travel with you, so there will never be anything that you know that I don’t know also.

I squinted my eyes in the light, not certain if I was irritated by the sting in my eyes from the bright sun or by the fact that he was right. Did I see something on the horizon? It was hard to tell among the many strange rock formations and the broken, jagged horizon.

That must be Bao’hauld where Rakturan’s uncle Gahteen is Prince.

Good. I glanced at the map. He was right of course, in Rakturan’s spikey writing it showed the city ahead with those distinctive rock patterns sketched and beside it, “Prince Gahteen, Bao’hauld.”

We needed to get Renn there quickly. But despite being able to see the city slowly, slowly approaching, a journey I thought I would measure in minutes stretched to hours. When at last we could make out details of the place, I breathed a sigh of relief.

The city was built into a rocky formation, towers jutting out of rock piles and stone bridges running from one formation to another. One cliff wall was entirely made up of windows and doors with rampways winding from one to another. A low wall – about the height of a dragon – ringed the city, guarded by Sentries and archers.

Just glimpsing a Sentry made me shiver all over again and beneath me, I felt Raolcan shiver, too. Renn had yet to stir and that was worrisome. Whatever had happened was worse than a hit on the head.

As if the thought had triggered it, I had a flash in my mind of Leng speaking earnestly to a Castelan in a high chair. Around him, pale faces stared, horrified.  The Castelan stood.

“Long have we respected Leedris Castel. We stand with the heir and Chosen One, Savette Leedris.”

The vision faded. At least Leng was still safe. He seemed to be progressing with less difficulty than I was having. There was commotion on the walls as we advanced toward the city. We were close enough now that I could see that it was larger than it had appeared from afar. So much of the city was built into the rock that it tricked the eye, but in the common areas fountains spurted fans of water and small, angular gardens were tended, making use of every inch of arable soil. It felt like a place of rest in the middle of this dry, rocky heap of a land.

They grow the strangest fruits in these places – sweet like honey, but so spicy that the mouth burns.

That actually sounded sort of appealing.

I’ll wait to see what you think after you’ve tried one.

The Sentries were buzzing along the wall, eager for us to arrive so they could challenge us. Maybe if Raolcan landed in front of the gates instead of trying to fly over them we could deal with the people on the ground instead. We weren’t trying to sneak in here. We needed to be seen.

Good thinking. I hate those multipus freaks.

Multipus?

Like an octopus but with many legs instead of eight.

We landed before the small gate in the wall at the same moment that a group of archers rode out on sleek black horses. Their helms and flowing clothing matched those of the guards we’d met in Abalang but the pattern of their hanging cords was different.

He barked something in his own language. I gritted my teeth. My lack of education was becoming increasingly frustrating.

We’re in the right place. He says we are subject to the authority of Prince Gahteen of Bao’hauld.

Chapter Seven

Why do authorities always sound like they’ve been sucking on lemons?

A lemon sounded nice right now. In water. I would drink every drop...

Concentrate.

“I am Amel Leafbrought,” I said in my own language. It wasn’t like I had another option. “I bear a message for Prince Gahteen of Bao’hauld.”

I pulled out the message Rakturan had given me, flourishing it for his benefit. He barked a series of orders and his men saluted with their curved swords before executing a group maneuver in formation that shifted them from facing me to facing the city. Their leader offered an elaborate salute and waved me toward the gate. Clearly, we were meant to follow. But would that be safe for the dragons? I still shuddered at the thought of Raolcan being sucked dry by those horrifying Sentries.

You and me both, spider.

No, if it wasn’t safe for them then I wasn’t going anywhere.

I don’t sense any evil purpose toward us. They are simply curious and following orders.

A second series of gestures waved us to follow. Reluctantly, I nodded. Let’s do this.

Raolcan strode forward, Ahummal on his heels. He turned, suddenly and roared in the Golden dragon’s face. I flinched, hands clamping down on the saddle. What was he doing?

You don’t know how to bind a dragon and he will cause trouble in a city. I told him to fly to the nearby hills and wait, but he refuses.

How long would he wait?

Until he’s called. I will call him when it is safe again. Or Renn can find him.

A spout of flame jetted out of Raolcan’s mouth, washing over Ahummal. He sneered, coughing his own fireball, but Raolcan batted it away with a wing.

He’s putting his own rider at risk with this nonsense.

As if that was all it took to convince him, Ahummal hung his head and slunk off toward the hills.

See? He just needed a nudge. Now you can negotiate with the Prince without a dragon under your authority accidentally burning the whole city down.

He turned around again, but our host, pale and wide-eyed held up a hand. So, our offer was rescinded, then? Great. No one was listening to me and now I had a sulky dragon on one hand and an irritated authority on the other.

Don’t call me sulky.

I meant Ahummal! I shook my head. Renn still needed help and I’d come too far for this. Raolcan could just keep walking forward, invitation or no invitation.

Maybe...

This time the decision was up to me. Onward.

Raolcan stepped forward, pushing past the guard waving for us to stop, past the lines of glossy horses and into the cool sanctuary of Bao’hauld. Time to push our luck a little. Where would I live if I was Prince of this place? No, better, where would Rakturan live if he were prince of this place?

There was a single spire in the center, its top like an unopened flower. I pointed it out to Raolcan. That was where he would be. The guards galloped beside us to keep pace as Raolcan strode down the broad city street. He kept his wings tucked in close, but even with that precaution the citizenry of Bao’hauld rushed to pull carts, mounts, and children from the streets, hustling them indoors or into alleys. We paused at a center fountain while Raolcan took a drink. It took all my willpower not to join him. I needed to look calm and in control for this to end with a new ally who respected us rather than in a jail cell.

There’s nothing like a dragon slurping up water and letting off steam to make people question their own eyes.

True enough. Steam flowed from Raolcan’s open mouth and rolled across the square.

By the time we reached the spire, there wasn’t a person in all of Bao’hauld who hadn’t stopped to peer from window, door or alley.

It’s just because Purple dragons are so good looking. Everyone wants to be able to tell their grandkids that they saw one.

I ignored him. I was too busy focusing on the warrior who came out of the spire, surrounded by guards. The helm with the knotted cord hanging down the back was familiar, as was the wide shoulder flares and flowing lines of the clothing, but when this warrior looked up at me, the angry face behind it was female.

I slid off of Raolcan’s back so I could address her one woman to another. Her hair escaped from the helm in wisps, floating in the light breeze.

“I have a message for Prince Gahteen and an injured man who needs help,” I said as clearly as I could in my own language.

I was sick of this dusty country. I was sick of missions that put me on the edge of an unknown city asking for help. Or sneaking in hoping they wouldn’t see me. Or having to convince one group or another to support us or care about the future or anything else. And now here I was all over again in a new city with a new group to convince. I was just too tired to do the song and dance.

Tiredly, I dismounted, and pulled my crutch down with me, leaning heavily on it. Around me, the sound of a thousand gasps filled the air.

“Yes, I’m crippled. No, it doesn’t mean I can’t ride a dragon. No, it’s not more important than this man who might be dying,” I grumbled, knowing no one could understand.

Raolcan let his jaw rest on the ground so I could unstrap Renn and pull him off my glorious dragon to drop onto the ground.

“Now,” I said, still focused on Renn and not the crowd. “Let’s see if we can find someone who cares about a dying man in this hulking rock of a city.”

“I care,” a heavily accented feminine voice said.

My jaw dropped as I looked up to the smug expression on the female warrior’s face. She pulled off her helmet, letting her curling black hair tumble down her back.

“I am Jalla, daughter of Prince Gahteen of Bao’hauld.”

Chapter Eight

“He touched a Kah’deem,” she said, thumbing back one of his eyelids. Her fierce expression turned on me. “You were trying to steal our kingdom?”

“No!” I raised my hands defensively, fingers spread wide. “Of course not!”

“I only know of one thing that causes this. Touching a Kah’deem – a warder.” Around her, there were murmurs in her language. The crowd watched us cautiously, as if waiting to see what Jalla would say or do.

“He touched something in the mountains – something that didn’t want to be looked at.”

Her hand leapt to her sword hilt. “And he didn’t know what it was?”

“I still don’t know what it is.”

She relaxed. “That’s probably the only reason he’s alive. You have to touch them with purpose to be tested.” She called something behind her back and one of the guards scurried away. “I sent for a stretcher. We’ll see he gets the healing he needs. It’s no small thing to touch a Kah’deem. Our ancients set them up when this land was still known as Bao’queea. Our prophecies tell us that the one who opens it and takes an artifact is our great leader and under him, the peoples will unite and join together to fight the Great Battle. He is not the first fool to try his hand at that.”

I nodded. “There were blood stains at the base of the thing he touched.”

“All our would-be Princes offer blood there as a sign of our dedication. Some try to open the Kah’deem. Some are killed on the spot or left insane or unconscious. None succeed in opening them. Your friend received the least possible consequence for his foolishness.”

She stood and shook out her hair as the stretcher arrived. “You can follow them if you wish.”

“I’d rather stay with you.” Either Renn would be fine or he wouldn’t be. I was worried about him, but I was no healer. I was a messenger. “I have a message for your father.”

She nodded. “And your dragon?”

“Is fine to wait here. He’s already eaten his fill of people today.”

Nice one.

She stared at me for a moment before laughing. “A joke, I think. But he will be happier in the stables. There are water and food there.”

Did he want to go there?

Better than a dusty street.

I nodded. “Thank you.”

Jalla motioned for a guard to step forward and spoke to him in her rolling tongue. I bit my lip as Raolcan followed him down an alley. He sneezed along the way, letting loose a fireball at the low wall of a garden and making the guard jump, fear etched on his face.

Don’t worry. If they bother me, I’ll just fly away. Dragons are never defenseless.

A flash of memory filled my mind – Raolcan surrounded by Sentries sucking out his life.

You’re going to throw that in my face all the time now, aren’t you? They took me by surprise!

If he said so.

Jalla cleared her throat. “Coming?”

I followed her through the press of guards and onlookers and through a series of massive doors and arches to a clay-tiled courtyard. A fountain surrounded by flowering vines bubbled to one side as people came and went through the courtyard. Jalla led me through a second set of gates to a winding stairway. I followed her from terrace to terrace until we ducked into a stone door.

“You’re fast despite that crutch.”

“Thank you.” I wasn’t as fast as she was. She moved with the speed and sureness of a true warrior.

“How did you come to ride a dragon?”

“I volunteered.”

She stopped and turned to stare at me. “No test for ability?”

“Not beyond whether I could mount and fly.”

She looked shocked. “You come from a powerful family?”

“No.”

“You are bountiful in wealth?”

“Certainly not.”

“Educated, of course.”

I shook my head and she made a sound of horror. “Barbarians.”

Still, she led me through the door into a wide room carved into the mountainside. Along the side of the room, windows large enough for a dragon to squeeze through led to balconies. Inside, rugs were layered across the floor and low tables held food and drink while men and women were arranged in circles, sitting leisurely on pillows of various sizes. We must have stumbled upon a family home celebrating some occasion. I smiled, waiting for Jalla to give apologies, but instead, she pushed forward, stopping to gesture impatiently for me to follow.

She pointed to an empty pillow with a meaningful look at me and then sat down on a second pillow beside it.

“Father,” she said, and my eyes grew large as she addressed a greying man across the circle. “This one, Amel Leafbrought, a Purple Dragon Rider, brings a message for you. Perhaps we can use her and the dragon in our war.”

I swallowed. What had I stumbled into this time? And why would she say that aloud, knowing I could hear it?

I think she likes to shock people. Very dragon-like.

“I’m afraid I have my own war to fight.” I pulled the message out of my belt. “But Prince Rakturan sends greetings and this message.” I held it out.

Jalla snatched it from my hand. “She owes us indenture. She traveled here with a man who touched a Kah’deem.”

Around us, everyone gasped. The only sound in the room was the light tinkle of bells as the chimes in the windows sang in the breeze.

“I accept her indenture and message,” Prince Gahteen said with a wide grin. Beside him, another man chuckled as he drank from an earthen cup. I didn’t see the humor in it.

“I’m only offering the message,” I said. I needed to get this message delivered and get back home. There was a war going on without me. There wasn’t time for jokes – dragon-like or otherwise.

“Our customs are clear on this. Any who challenge the authority of the local Prince and survive are subject to indenture.”

“I’ve challenged nothing.” The hard looks in their eyes were making me nervous. None of them looked ready to back down on this.

“As a gift to my daughter,” Gahteen said, not even looking at me, “as a sign of my favor, I offer Jalla of Bao’hauld the indenture of this woman, the man who broke faith, and their dragons.”

“I gladly accept,” Jalla said with a smile. “Thank you for the honor, Father.”

“What does it mean to be indentured?” I asked.

“It means you’re my slaves until I say otherwise.”

Chapter Nine

Whoa. What? Seriously, by the time we’d quelled the Ifrit threat and saved the Dominion from destruction, every single set back possible was likely to happen to me – at least if they kept going at this rate.  But I hadn’t expected slavery. How was I going to get out of this one?

“Ah! The message you bring me is from Prince Rakturan,” Prince Gahteen said, taking a sip from his own cup.

“You may eat and drink,” Jalla said to me with a smug smile. Really? I held back the scowl I wanted to give her, but I didn’t reach for the water in the sweating pitcher nearby. I was thirsty enough to drink the whole thing, but I’d rather be thirsty than drink at her orders.

Imagine what it was like for me when I was taken to Dragon School. Treated like a slave. Given food and drink when they felt like giving it to me.

A stab of ice pierced my heart. I had forgotten what life was like for him only a few months ago.

And what it will be like for me again when this war is over, and you are a student once more.

Never again. I wouldn’t allow it. I’d simply have to make full Dragon Rider first so that he never had to be treated like that again. Why had he agreed to it in the first place? I understood that he’d been chosen by Queen Haz and sent as part of our deal, but this deal felt like a bad idea. If I were in charge I’d be sure that only volunteer dragons were accepted at the school. Maybe someday, I would be in charge ...

My vision doubled for a moment and then for a flash of a second, I was watching Shonan speaking to an Ilerioc just like the one we’d seen translate for the dragons before. I didn’t see the dragon he was speaking to.

“And that’s why we need to renegotiate this treaty. There are many things that have changed since Haz first negotiated with Haz’drazen, the great queen of dragons.”

“We are agreed,” the Ilerioc said, “but we can only negotiate with the rightful ruler of the Dominion – and only Queen Haz’drazen may say who that is.”

“Isn’t that the Dominar?” Shonan asked.

“The man or the mask?” the Ilerioc asked. He made a strange sign with his fingers, like he was speaking with them.

“There is no difference,” Shonan said.

“To us, the difference is great. The mask is but a thing. It is the mind behind the mask with whom we will speak.”

I snapped back to the time and place I was in.

“Drink. You are thirsty,” Jalla said with a frown.

Reluctantly, I took a cup from her hands, sipping down the cool water. I could have drunk four more, but she took the cup back. This was ridiculous. Like everything else, I’d need to think of some way out of this.

“Ah, Jalla,” Gahteen said as he poured more wine in his cup. “Your cousin asks for our help. He has returned to our lands.”

“We’ll help him, of course, Father,” Jalla replied. She was staring at me like a saddle she was deciding to repair. I shifted awkwardly.

“An alliance with his tribe can only help Bao’hauld,” the old man to the left of Gahteen said as he helped himself to a bowl of rice. My belly rumbled as I watched, but it occurred to me that they spoke in my language for a reason. Were they trying to make some sort of point?

“I think alliance alone is no longer an option,” Gahteen said, his mouth a grim line. “Tell me about my nephew, Dragon Rider.”

Perhaps this was why he chose my language. All eyes shifted to me. So, they all spoke Dominion. These must all be very powerful, educated people.

“He has great power. He has married the Chosen One of the Dominion and plans to help her destroy the Ifrit plague our lands suffer under.”

A stream of speech poured from a woman to Gahteen’s right. He responded, still in their language, and then a debate broke out around the circle. I watched expressions and wide gestures, trying to piece together who was arguing what.

“If you were me, Dragon Rider, would you submit your city and tribe to Rakturan?” Jalla asked me quietly.

“Do you want to live? Do you want your people to flourish and this city to stay strong?”

“You may as well ask whether I want the sun to continue rising in the East.”

“Then yes, you should follow Prince Rakturan.”

She tapped her chin with a finger. She was considering. How long would it take for all these bickering people to decide? Hours? Days? Longer? Rakturan did not have that much time.

I stood and cleared my throat. Prince Gahteen raised a single eyebrow in a quizzical expression.

“Men and Women of Bao’hauld,” I said over the arguments. “Prince Rakturan is your only hope. If he can’t unite Baojang, the Ya’kar will let loose a flood of Ifrits across your mountains and plains. They will overrun your city and smash your citizens on the rocks. They will raze your cities and leave nothing but dust and memories behind them. Do you love your oasis here? You must fight to keep it. And if you don’t, not one of you will live to remember my words. I watched Ifrits pour from the ground with my own eyes just south of the mountains. Rakturan has asked for your support to fight this invasion. Will you give it to him?”

Gahteen cocked his head, a small smile on his lips. “He sent you to ask for our help, did he?”

“You read the message.”

“But you are his messenger?” he pressed.

“I am. And so is Renn.”

“But the other rider is incapacitated.” Gahteen’s smile grew.

I nodded.

“Then you will speak for Rakturan.”

Sudden silence swept across the room and I felt sweat form on my brow. It was never a good thing when these people were silent.

“We require a prince with the strength to lead all of Baojang – like the Great Leaders of our ancestors. Is Prince Rakturan that man?”

“He is,” I said firmly. I needed to show them I was certain.

“We need a leader who has the power and fortitude not to shirk when sacrifice is required. Is Rakturan that man?”

“Yes.” I pushed my conviction into my words.

“We need a man willing to prove himself in the fires of trial. Is Rakturan that man?”

He’d certainly already proved that time and again. “Yes.”

“Then it is agreed,” Gahteen said with a devious smile. “Rakturan will go to A’cauib - as it is written - and open the Kah’deem there. Let our ancestors decide his fate.”

Chapter Ten

“Wait. What?”

“You spoke the words of ceremony on his behalf. The covenant has been made,” Gahteen said with smug satisfaction. “I will send my own messenger in reply – the fastest we have – and also messengers to all the tribes of Baojang. Not all will have time to arrive, but some are close enough. We will meet together at A’cauib and see if Prince Rakturan is indeed our leader.”

“But the Crescent Prince-”

“Will also submit to the will of the ancestors,” Gahteen said smoothly. What had I done? “We leave as soon as our forces can be mustered. Akbar,” he turned to one of the men eating with us. “Prepare the Salah and Elah divisions to accompany us. Ashreena,” he turned to a grizzled woman who promptly assumed an alert expression. “You’ll keep the Telah division here to defend the city. When Abin returns, you may also take command of the Yelah division for defense.”

The two of them bowed curtly and scrambled to their feet, hurrying out of the arched doors. He must be serious about leaving immediately. I sucked in a breath of air to calm myself, coughing as incense filled my nose.

“I beg leave to prepare for the journey, father,” Jalla said.

“Go, daughter.”

She stood, crossing her arms as she looked at me. I stayed where I was. Despite what she thought, I was no slave.

A rasping sound made me turn to look and I sucked in a second incense-laden breath as the remaining people in the room drew curved swords and knives.

“Have you no honor? Shall I not trust your master, Rakturan?” Prince Gahteen asked me.

“I think you have the wrong idea. I am only his messenger.” I gritted my teeth. I didn’t like speaking up with all those weapons drawn, but if I didn’t say something, then I might as well just resign myself to life as a slave.

“Then you have no honor?” There was a glitter in his eye. Something told me that any answer other than ‘I have honor’ would be bad for me.

They have one way of dealing with the honorless – instant death.

I swallowed. “I have honor.”

Swords and knives slid back in their sheaths, but all eyes were still on me with deadly glares in them until I stood shakily on my crutch and followed Jalla out of the room.

“I hear your message, slave,” she said.

“Message?”

“In our lands, we have an expression, ‘Aim your Sentry in the way you wish to travel.’”

“Sounds like common sense to me,” I said, hobbling after her as she led us back out to the stairways and terraces outside and wove us along the cliff face to a wide terrace with vines growing along it and up the wall. A quick duck around the corner took us to a narrow set of steps and up to a carved doorway.

“I know you will be a headstrong slave and prone to trouble – because you showed me that in the haz’tarac.”

“The place where everyone was eating?”

“Yes. Thank you for honoring me with that message.”

I blinked. They had a very strange code of honor. She thought I gave her an honor by refusing to be her slave until I was forced to submit by violent threats?

Giving the truth to someone is always giving them an honor. Some people are worthy of that honor. Some people are not. The people of Bao’jang acknowledge that in a way the Dominion does not. But you know Hubric lives by that code. He loves truth – but who he gives it to is up to him.

Hmmm. Perhaps I would find a way to work with Jalla – at least until we met up with Rakturan. Then he could explain all this and get me out of it.

I don’t know if he can...

Of course, he could. He was a Prince. And once he led them all, it would be a simple thing to clear up this misunderstanding. I just needed to get everyone there first so that Rakturan could make it all right.

“Welcome to my home,” Jalla said as we entered the door to a sumptuous dwelling with wide open-arched windows and woven tapestries and rugs across the stone floors and walls. It was cool and shady, and a vine grew across the tops of the windows, shading the room even more. Pottery vases as tall as my knee were filled with dried waving grasses or collections of edged weapons, while smaller basins sat on shelves or low tables, laden with small red fruits the length of my finger. “Are you ready to fly as you are?”

“If I could refill my water skins that would help,” I said. “What about Renn?”

“His dragon is waiting in the hills outside the city?” Jalla asked. “Don’t gape at me. We post a watch. We know what happens around our city.”

“Yes, he is.”

“But a wounded man is not a great choice to take to a meeting of leaders.” She pursed her lips. “No, we shall leave him here. I would like to try riding one of these dragons. I shall take his beast.”

“It doesn’t work like that. He won’t let just anyone ride him,” I protested.

“But he will stay in place waiting here?”

Would he?

Yes. Until Renn recovers.

“Yes,” I replied.

A small woman with long dark hair emerged from deeper in the house and Jalla barked a series of orders at her. She set down a basket of flatbread, bowed and rushed away.

“Then I shall ride with you. Surely, you can keep your beast under control.”

“He’s not a beast,” I tried to object, but she was already on to the next thing, a flurry of energy and intensity.

I struggled to keep up as we raced through her house, packing food, supplies and a small bag of personal things for her. She barked orders at everyone she met – servants perhaps, or family, I couldn’t tell which – and asked me a series of questions.

“Rakturan – he is changed since his time in the Dominion? Tell me how?” Before I was even finished answering she was on to the next question. “But how did his eyes begin to glow. Don’t tell me you didn’t question him. I would have had a million questions. Who is this wife of his? Is she likely to survive the conflict she is a part of? A young prince like Rakturan – especially if he is the leader of all Baojang – would make a fine husband. Did he ever mention his uncle’s household before? Perhaps he mentioned me.”

“Aren’t you his cousin? You couldn’t marry him even if Savette died.”

But my objections had no effect as she bustled from task to task. She stopped, suddenly, and turned to me.

“That should be enough packing. Fortunately, you will be with me through the whole journey. You can finish answering my questions then.”

If I’d thought traveling with Renn was troublesome, traveling with Jalla was bound to be much worse.

Chapter Eleven

“But why is Savette the Chosen One?” Jalla asked again.

It had taken only a few hours for the troops and retainers to assemble in front of the city for the journey ahead. I was shocked at how quickly they could assemble, but Jalla kept saying they were the best in Baojang, and maybe she had a point.

“Because the Ibrenicus Prophecies say she is. She’s fulfilling all their signs.”

“And this is what ... a code of honor, perhaps? It is to your honor to trust this book?” She had Talsan’s book in her hands and she poured over the text from her place behind me in Raolcan’s saddle. As soon as the massive caravan had started to move she’d given loud instructions to Raolcan to circle the group, so she could keep an eye on things. And for some reason, he’d obliged. Why he would do that when he usually didn’t like being ordered about was beyond me.

I like her.

Of course, he did. Just like he’d liked Savette when I still wasn’t sure of her. He seemed to like arrogant girls.

It’s why I like you.

I gritted my teeth. I was not arrogant.

“So, if I fulfilled these prophecies, would that make me the Chosen One?”

“Well, you haven’t, so it doesn’t matter.” The constant questioning was wearing on my patience.

“I could try. Some of these don’t seem very hard. They’re all about bringing light here and there. I could just wander around with a lantern and fulfill half of these.” Because that wasn’t at all insulting. “Or you could. Would you like to be the Chosen One?”

Unbidden, a flash of Savette came to my mind, clear as a reflection in a still pond. Two men who looked like Castelan’s kneeled before her, swearing allegiance. I leapt when I heard her voice in my mind. ‘Amel? Is that you?’

The vision snapped away, leaving me gasping. I’d seen her again. And this time, she had sensed me, too.

“Amel? Did you hear me? Would you want to be the Chosen One?”

I sighed. “I think I’d just like to be anything other than your slave.”

“Ha! I’ll let you think about that for a minute. Anything? There are a lot worse things to be than my slave. I’m good company, incredibly adept in the arts of war, an excellent leader to my people, and destined for greatness. You’re going to get to join me for all of it. Oh, and I speak the language here. Which is something you’ll need to learn now that you are going to be living with my people.”

I ground my teeth together. Gritting them just wasn’t helping me keep my frustrations inside. How could Raolcan like this?

It’s very entertaining.

“Can I ask a question?” I asked.

“It is to your honor that you requested my consent first.”

I rolled my eyes. At least she wouldn’t see that from behind me.

“What sort of test will Rakturan have to pass when he gets to A’cauib?

“The same test your friend Renn failed.”

“You mean he’s got to grab that thing and hope it doesn’t kill him or drive him insane?”

“If all he has is hope, then it will certainly kill him.” She sounded indifferent.

“Well, what else could he have? There’s no test to pass or trial of skill. Who would even want to try that?”

“Ha! Well, you’re an unambitious people in the Dominion, aren’t you? Many of our young men and women want to free our ancestor’s artifacts and take a chance at becoming ruler of all Baojang. And they do a lot more than hope. The test involves more than just grabbing those handles. It will plumb the depths of the one who challenges it. It will only open for the pure of heart. It will only open to the one who holds truth in his palm and wisdom in his heart. It will only open for the one who passes a test of the mind.”

“Well, I’m surprised no one has opened it yet if that’s all it takes.” I wasn’t usually sarcastic, but Jalla was bringing out the worst in me. The more confident she was, the more irritated I became. After all, if she was as capable as she claimed, I would never be free of her.

“Those things are not so simple, slave.” She shifted behind me. “Tell me more about this book. I’m not sure I like this part.” She began to read from Talsan’s book again. “And one will come from the north, burning, burning, Judgment and Wisdom borne by the flow of spirit to spirit, Do not speak to us of the times that follow, For they shall be as a dream of death as a nightmare walking.”

“I’ve read that one before,” I said, noncommittally. I was watching the caravan below, noting how the horse divisions reacted immediately to any command, how the shoal of Sentries in the air flew in perfect formation, how the retainers even marched like soldiers. These were formidable people. This dry, rocky land was no match for them.

“Nightmare. In our language, that is ‘Ya’kar.’”

“Your version of the Dusk Covenant. The arrow through the spiral.”

“Very good, slave. Yes, it says the times that follow will be like the Ya’kar walking. I don’t like that. I think that part should be ripped out.”

I heard a tearing sound and spun in the saddle. My head felt light. She hadn’t actually torn the book, had she? I snatched the torn page from the air as she let it go. We’d almost lost a page! Quickly, I grabbed the Ibrenicus Prophecies back from her.

“Don’t be so touchy about a book,” Jalla said, her mouth quirking with humor.

“You tore it!” There was accusation in my voice. Gently, I replaced the page, but now it was torn, and I would have to be more careful with it. I wouldn’t find another copy here.

“I didn’t like what it said. I don’t think it’s a very good holy book.”

“Because it doesn’t say what you want it to? I’ve seen the prophecies in this book come true. I’ve seen the warnings come true. What you think about it has nothing to do with that! Don’t ever rip my book again!”

“That’s not a very respectful tone, slave.”

I made a frustrated sound through my teeth and quickly tucked my book away. From now on, I’d need to read it in private where Jalla couldn’t destroy it.

“Do you happen to have a deck of cards?” She asked. “Let’s fly up ahead and pay a few rounds. I’m bored circling the army.”

Chapter Twelve

We sat on the highest peak of the mountains close to A’caiub – the cursed place where Renn touched the handles and doomed me to a life of slavery.

Dramatic much?

Our playing cards were laid out on a boulder where we could play and Jalla could drink wine from her waterskin – she hadn’t even brought water it turned out – while I could give her frequent reports about the approaching armies.

“How is our caravan?” she asked, playing a Dominar card. “My but your ruler card is plain. It needs some astral signs to liven it up a bit.”

“They are progressing the same as they were an hour ago,” I said. “I think they’ll arrive at the bowl of A’cauib tomorrow morning.”

“They’ll camp for the night. So, they won’t make it until midday.”

Why did she even ask me if she already knew?

“And the others?” She asked, clearing the boulder and reshuffling the cards. She’d won that hand, too. She won nearly all the hands and she was not a courteous winner. “You should practice this more. You’re terrible.”

“There is a large caravan from the East. I can finally make out the banners – crescent moons on a field of green.”

“The Crescent Prince. I wondered if he would really come. I like that kind of confidence.”

“But we didn’t invite him ... did we?”

“We invited everyone,” she said, dealing the next hand.

“Even our enemies?”

“He’s not my enemy yet. We shall see what happens at A’cauib.”

“There are two other caravans from the west. They don’t seem to be traveling together although one is much larger than the other.”

“And A’cauib?”

I turned to look in the direction of the bowl. It was hard to make out specifics without Raolcan’s help.

Stragglers continue to wander in from the mountains. There are perhaps a hundred gathered in the bowl now.

“About a hundred gathered.”

“Good.” She took another sip of wine. “When our caravan makes camp, we will join them.”

“Shouldn’t we be doing something productive right now?” I was itching to be active. Too much was depending on us. I didn’t want to cool our heels playing cards.

“I am doing something productive. I’m teaching my slave to be a decent card player. At this rate, it’s going to take all day.”

I sighed.

“And then we’ll work on weeding out those sighs. They don’t make you a more attractive companion. They don’t actually do anything.”

I was getting better at playing cards by the time the sun began to sink low in the sky and Jalla’s retainers started to set up camp. I’d won a half a dozen hands and even surprised Jalla once.

“There’s hope for you yet!” she’d said as we packed up our things and remounted Raolcan. We’d wasted an entire day sitting in the sun playing games.

I never call a day sleeping in the sun a waste.

“My retinue will want to see me. They’ll have my tent ready,” Jalla explained as Raolcan kicked off the mountain. I was watching the Crescent Prince’s caravan. The dust cloud following it looked larger than I would have expected from a caravan that size.

“How many people in that group are yours?” I asked, absently. Were they riding fast? Was that why there was more dust? Or was it a trick of the wind?

“About sixty retainers and three hundred soldiers.” Jalla tone was indifferent.

“Three hundred?!”

“I told you, I am a war leader. What did you think that meant? I don’t play cards all the time. It’s just wisdom to know when to push and when to have a few drinks and play a round of cards in the sun.”

Truth.

“Stop gawking,” she said indulgently. “Everyone will think you’re a fool.”

We landed beside her pavilion – which she planned I’d share with her – at the same time that the sun finally dipped over the horizon. I couldn’t shake the idea that there was something more to that dust cloud than I thought. It haunted me as I joined Jalla for dinner. It bothered me as I attended to Raolcan’s needs. It filled my thoughts as I drifted off to sleep.

Why couldn’t I put my finger on what it was?

Chapter Thirteen

My dreams were torrid and troubling. I slipped several times into raging battles featuring Savette at the heart of the battle, her light of Truth bursting Ifrits into shadowy rags and leveling ranks of savage Dusk Covenant soldiers as they charged her. Around her, loyal Dominion soldiers fought on foot, on horse, and on dragon in massive waves of hot human passion. Savette looked faintly ill as she fought and no wonder. I tried not to see the broken homes and shattered walls around her. I tried even more not to see the shattered and broken bodies of men and dragons. Twice, she looked me right in the eye.

“Amel,” she said the first time and then the second time her bright eyes – no blindfold on them when she was fighting – pierced mine and she said, “Bring me allies. We fight and die without them.”

I woke from my dreams gasping, sweat pouring down my brow. I drank a little from the waterskin by my bed, the night air chilling my sweat and making me feel clammy. I didn’t like sleeping in Jalla’s regal pavilion. It would be far more comfortable cuddled against Raolcan’s side.

And then maybe you wouldn’t wake me with your dreams. I have my own dreams troubling me.

What was he dreaming about?

Shonan has brokered his treaty with Haz’drazen. Neither my kin nor your friend are entirely pleased. This treaty will mean change. Change always hurts – even good change.

So, he at least had fulfilled his mission.

Not quite. The treaty must be ratified by the Troglodytes. They may have their own provisions to add.

I swallowed and rolled over, trying to fall asleep again. It was long hours before I managed it. The Troglodytes gift to us was both a blessing and a curse.

This time I dreamed of Leng. He flew above a sea of soldiers marching over a grassy plain. They seemed to be together and I almost smiled before I saw his feverish face. He clung to Ahlskibi’s neck like a child to his mother.

“I feel you out there, Amel. Return to me,” he muttered. “Where are you?”

Not close enough. Never close enough when he needed me. Was he ill or injured? Worry gnawed at me.

I gasped as the vision faded, morphing now into Shonan flying on the back of Rasipaer. Around them were more dragons than I’d ever seen in one place in every color known to me. And was that a color I’d never seen before? He looked worried, his neck stretched forward as if that could bring him to his goal more quickly. Where did Shonan fly with so many dragons?

I saw that, too. He flies to ratify the treaty with the Troglodytes.

But he wasn’t underground. He’d been flying over a long archipelago of islands.

There are things you don’t know about the dragon lands.

I would have asked what they were, but I was pulled away by a vision of Hubric standing on a stool in a dark room. Hundreds of people clustered around in silence as he spoke urgently and then the door broke in and screams filled my mind.

This time when I woke, I didn’t bother going back to sleep. There was no rest for anyone who was forced to watch the perils of their friends. All the dreams told me was that we must hurry. Playing cards and sipping wine was so far removed from what my friends were doing that I wanted to pull out my hair and scream. How was I going to bring them the help they needed? How could I steer this to that goal?

I slipped out of the tent, wandering between the banked fires and silent tents of the camp. It was cool here at night and I wrapped my arms around myself. I stopped at the edge of the camp, looking up at the foreign moon – so different and yet so the same as the one I had seen from my home. How many people had watched the moon in hope or fear or suffering? How many had poured out their hearts under that solitary cold eye in the covering darkness of night?

With our friends fighting desperately to the south, and Rakturan and I stymied here in the north, it felt so hopeless to even try to win this battle. Even if Rakturan won the artifact and claimed it and the people rallied to him, what then? Would the Crescent Prince just let that go? What if he fought back? How long would we be embroiled in battle here? Even if we won it might be too late.

What if we returned to the Dominion only to find a smoking wreckage where once a thriving land stood? A place with no skycities or Dragon School, no Castelans or rules. I chewed my lip. What would I do to prevent that? What could I do? One crippled Dragon Rider could only do so much, but if I could do more, I would. If I could speed up our mission here so that we could bring Savette the support she needed – if I could just press my finger in the right spot so that everything rolled back into place...

I had a sneaking suspicion that the Troglodytes’ gift had given me the information I needed to do that, if only I could figure it out. I needed to think and then I needed to act – and to hope that I had chosen wisely. What had Jalla said about hope? That if that was all you had then you were a fool. But maybe hope was stronger than she thought if it was combined with gritted teeth and an absolute certainty that I would do whatever it took to save my friends, my family, and my Dominion.

Chapter Fourteen

It was almost as if fate had a hand in when the caravans would arrive.

“How could they all know so quickly?” I asked aloud as Rakturan’s caravan and the caravan from the Crescent Prince converged on the bowl below where Raolcan circled. Gahteen’s caravan had arrived only an hour ago, warriors forming up into deadly patterns along the edges of the bowl and retainers quick to set up tents and begin cook fires.

“My father sent pigeons, and you stated that Rakturan was already on his way here. The timing is simply coincidence.”

Raolcan dove toward the bowl, spiraling down toward the wide platform where Gahteen waited. Rakturan’s caravan was already slowing their approach, dust kicking up behind them.

“And the Crescent Prince?” The dust trail behind his caravan still troubled me. It seemed strange – larger, perhaps.

“He must have spies watching,” Jalla said, avoiding the question, though I was sure she’d admitted yesterday to telling him about this meeting. She was sharpening a knife as Raolcan landed beside Gahteen. “Tell your dragon to stand to the side so he doesn’t accidentally flame someone he doesn’t like.”

Well, that was just rude.

She understands me too well.

I needed to get out of this enslavement, and fast.

Have you noticed that ‘slavery’ with her isn’t that bad? She treats you more like a protégé than anything else – eating with her, playing cards with her, sleeping in her tent. It could be a lot worse.

I waited nervously, bouncing up and down on my good foot and leaning into my crutch as Rakturan approached with two dozen guards. The rest of his entourage waited at the back of the bowl – and so did Enkenay, strangely enough. I would have expected him to approach the ledge with his rider.

He is an odd one, even for a White. And he is free. He is not bound to Rakturan.

Overnight the center of the bowl had filled with people.

“The warriors of lesser tribes and communities,” Jalla had explained. Whoever they were, they waited with the tense look of expectation. Whatever happened here, they would be witnesses.  “If Rakturan succeeds in winning the artifact, he will rule Baojang as the leader of leaders. Only those in attendance today will be considered for lesser positions – the ruling of tribes or leading of armies. Everyone who came hopes that if he succeeds they will gain honor, too.”

It seemed like a silly way to do things, but everything here was the opposite of how I would do it. If I kept complaining about it, I’d have to complain all day. At least they wouldn’t all become slaves just for showing up ... I hoped.

“You will stay beside me, slave,” Jalla said. She was going to have to start calling me by my name.

At the same moment, Rakturan leapt up the stairs leading to the platform, two at a time and seized Gahteen’s hand in a warm clasp.

“Uncle,” he said, “I trust my message found you well?”

“Well enough to watch you grasp the thorns, my nephew.” His grin was smug.

Rakturan startled before grabbing hold of himself. “The thorns? I was not certain that would be-”

“Your representative has sworn on your behalf.” Gahteen smiled, but his eyes were watching Rakturan like a desert hawk’s. “By honor, you are bound.”

Rakturan bowed stiffly, sparing me a baleful glance. “By honor, I accept.”

“Prince Rakturan,” I began but he cut me off with a chop of his hand.

“The Crescent Prince also approaches.”

Gahteen nodded. “Then take your place beside the Kah’deem. Jalla may serve as your second.”

“Amel will be my second,” Rakturan said icily. There was no approval in his eyes when he looked at me.

But he still wants you to be the one to back him up.

“Your messenger is now my daughter’s slave,” Gahteen objected. Rakturan’s eyebrows rose over the white blindfold he wore, but his features softened.

Exactly, Rak. You aren’t the only one thrown into a ridiculous situation based only on someone else’s traditions.

“I would be honored to have Jalla as my second,” he said, but he looked away from us coldly, moving to the side of the strange metal contraption. I tried not to look at it as he took up a place beside one of the handles.

Sweat dripped down my spine but I had no real reason to be upset. After all, these people could only take me as a slave once.

But they could kill you. They haven’t done that yet.

Thanks for the reminder.

Jalla stood at Rakturan’s back, snapping her fingers at me when I wasn’t quick enough to join her.

Gahteen stepped between the strange machine that held the artifact – the Kah’deem – and the crowd gathering in the bowl.  He looked almost as if he were conducting a wedding when he raised his arms and began to speak.

Rakturan interrupted him, “If it pleases you, could we speak in Dominion?”

Gahteen looked surprised, but he nodded and began again. Rakturan was still my ally, despite our mutual predicaments.

“We have gathered here under the burning eye of the sun and in the presence of all who could be quickly gathered, to witness the trial and winnowing of Rakturan, Dark Prince of Baojang. We will witness this day and give true testimony to any who asks of what we have seen here. Are we agreed?”

There was a roar from the crowd and I watched as many warriors produced spears and began to wave them in the air as they screamed their approval. A simple ‘yes’ would have sufficed.

A simple ‘yes’ would not express their feelings on this. This is a sacred ceremony to them.

“Does any here wish to stand against the Dark Prince and be tried alongside him?” Gahteen asked in a deep musical tone. This must be part of the ceremony. There were shouts of denial as a cloud of dust rolled into the bowl.

I coughed, clutching my sides as Rakturan doubled over, coughing, too. Coughs sounded around us and as the dust began to settle a man with a sleek face and oiled hair emerged from the dust on the back of a black stallion. I shivered as his face became clear. The last time I’d seen it, he had sentenced me to death.

The Crescent Prince had arrived. And he was not alone. Not all of the dust settled. Instead, along the southern rim of the bowl, a long line of warriors stood, watching their prince with eyes like fiery infernos. With a sinking sensation, I realized why those dust clouds had looked too big. They were filled with Ifrits.

Chapter Fifteen

“I’ll stand against the Dark Prince,” the Crescent Prince said, with a predatory look in his eye as he leapt down from the back of his horse. His horse pawed the ground until a retainer rushed forward to take him by the bridle. He was almost as fiery-eyed as the Ifrits – and no wonder. No horse would want to ride with real demons on his trail.

Gahteen’s mouth twisted, but this was obviously part of the ceremony, so he said, “What is the reason for your challenge, O Prince?”

The Crescent Prince’s men rushed to fill the remainder of the basin as he spoke to their booming cheers. “Bao’jang needs a leader who leads from strength and protects her interests. We need a Prince to rule all Princes who will make us strong and powerful, unable to be conquered or dictated to by foreign nations. I am that man, and I will prove it on the thorns of the Kah’deem here today.”

He stepped forward to stand at a handle opposite to Rakturan’s and my gaze skittered across him as much as it slid off the Kah’deem. He left an aftertaste of fear in my mind even when he wasn’t speaking.

“Have you a second?” Gahteen asked, loudly.

“I need no second, for I shall not fail.”

“The Crescent Prince – Rhuti Alandim – is accepted as challenger. Let the winnowing begin,” Gahteen said. “What our ancestors set in motion, let no man or woman interfere with. The Kah’deem shall test each heart and mind. It shall plumb you to the core. Only the one who opens the Kah’deem will claim the Pipe of Wings as a symbol to us all that he is our rightful ruler. Do the participants accept these terms?”

“Yes,” Rakturan said, his eyes locked on the Crescent Prince’s.

“Yes,” the Prince echoed.

“And do the people accept these terms as witnesses?” Gahteen asked the crowd.

There were cheers of assent.

“And if the men here fall today, their blood is on their own heads, for they chose this test. Their seconds – if there are any – will lead their people far from here in great haste and never again will either man have the right to challenge the Kah’deem again. Are all agreed?”

I saw Rakturan and the Crescent Prince agree, but the sound of their voices was drowned out by the screaming of the crowds and my eyes were distracted as they flickered over to the Ifrits again. I did not trust them so close to us – not even when they were silent and staring like they were right now.

I don’t trust them either. They will pounce on us all the second they can.

“Remember honor,” Gahteem said, and then he lowered his hands and walked to Rakturan. “I shall confirm your grip on the arm of the Kah’deem.”

Rakturan was sweating as he grabbed the spiked handle, letting the metal thorns dig hard into his hand as he gripped it. Drops of blood dripped onto the rock beneath it and my breath caught as I watched him. He never broke eye-contact with the Crescent Prince even as his body shook slightly – no doubt from the pain that had stunned Renn when he grabbed that same handle. Jalla made a noise of approval in the back of her throat.

Gahteen nodded his head and raised a hand to cheers from the crowd. He circled to where the Crescent Prince stood. “I shall confirm your grip on the arm.”

Once again, he raised a hand as the Prince tightened his grip over the metal thorns and his blood joined Rak’s in spattering over the rock. Rhuti Alandim also shook with the effort.

My belly churned as my gaze slipped over the eight other handles around the Kah’deem. What would it be like for ten people to try this at once? I could already feel energy sizzling between Rakturan and the Crescent Prince as they battled both the machine and each other. How did the machine test them? What, exactly did it do to see their value?

“I think you chose your Prince well,” Jalla whispered beside me. “It is rare to see a contest like this last so long.”

“It just started,” I whispered back, surprised.

“How long did your friend Renn last when he grabbed the handle?”

He’d been knocked unconscious immediately, hadn’t he? And here they were, locked in a duel against each other and the machine. Rakturan’s light seemed to be growing, swelling outward as he focused on the task at hand. But, as his light grew, a slippery feeling of darkness rose up from the other side of the machine – like the taste of bad fish long after you spat the piece out, but the slick oil remained to coat the inside of your mouth. I swallowed down bile at the analogy.

We waited for the first hour in silence, but eventually, the crowd began to lose focus and cookfires sprang up and tea was made. Around us, the only ones still vigilant were Raolcan sitting on his haunches to one side and the long line of soulless dust demons on the other. Which was hardly a fair balance. Enkenay slipped along the edge of the gathering, joining his vigil and Raolcan gave a grunt of approval.

You don’t think we could take them all?

As much as I wished we could, I’d seen them fight.

I’m not afraid.

That part, I believed.

As the hours passed by, eventually food was served to us and we ate.

“They are in an immense struggle,” Jalla said. “There will be legends of this day.”

“What if they are too well matched?” I worried as I ate. Jalla had been clear. We could eat and drink and take care of necessities, but we could not leave.

“Someone is always stronger.”

“What if Rakturan fails?” I hadn’t thought he would, but now I couldn’t help but worry. What if his opponent was truly stronger?

“If they both fail, we will tend them. If they live, I will take up his sword and fight for him as the leader of his people. That is what a second is for.”

“And if only Rakturan fails?”

She shifted, made uncomfortable by the question, but I pressed on.

“Jalla?”

“Then I will take his place at the machine.”

“Your father didn’t mention that in the ceremony.”

She looked around like she was afraid of being overheard even though it was only the two of us and the battling princes. Everyone else had spread out.

“My father doesn’t know everything.”

“But is that allowed?” I pressed.

“Anyone can join at any time.” She licked her lips. “If that person dares to take on a fight this big, that will be respected.”

My gaze wandered to the extra handles. At any time. What if Jalla and I both took handles to help Rakturan right now. Could we turn the tide in his favor?

“It’s better if it doesn’t happen. Better if it is just them,” Jalla said, as if reading my mind. “If anyone joins this battle, they will be compelled to fight until either the machine opens up, or everyone else is incapacitated. If I grabbed a handle now I could hurt Rakturan’s chances as much as help them.”

So, all we could do was sit and watch under the heat of the sun.

I was almost certain that Jalla didn’t know that I could hear her when she muttered, “It might be worth it.”

Chapter Sixteen

At dusk, they lit fires all around the platform as the other princes who came to witness the battle ate and drank together. Despite the line of terrifying Ifrits frozen into place along the bowl, people were beginning to loosen up. Proximity had eased their anxiety about the Ifrits. There was even the occasional laughter from around cookfires. But all eyes were trained almost constantly on us.

Twice, I almost thought I saw an Ifrit twitch as if he might take a step toward us. I hadn’t eaten a bite. I couldn’t shake the feeling that they might descend at any time and dash our bodies on the rocks. I’d seen it before. It was no idle imagining.

The Crescent Prince still stood tall and straight, his eyes fixed on Rakturan, but I could sense something had changed in him. I squinted my eyes, trying to determine what it was. Was it his posture? One of his feet had moved to behind him, perhaps simply to adjust his position. They must both be feeling stiff and tired by now.

It was, perhaps, an hour after dark that the first vision flashed in my head. The armies Leng was flying with had crossed into the plains west of Dominion City. He was seeing the city in the fading light of sunset. I could almost taste his excitement at seeing the sprawling sky city after traveling so far. He was speaking to two men – Castelans, and a gorgeous young woman in battle armor. I felt a twinge of envy at that. Did he see how easily she moved despite the weight of her armor? Did he ever think that maybe he would be better off with a girl who was so healthy? She could give him so much more than me-

“Amel,” Jalla whispered from beside me. I ignored her, trying to pull the vision back as it escaped me. No use. I sighed. Her voice turned to a hiss. “Slave!”

“You called?” I clenched my jaw in irritation.

“Don’t drift off! We can’t afford distraction.”

My visions were not distractions. Somehow, they would help me fight with my friends. I just needed to trust that. I sank to the ground, sighing at the relief in my leg. Standing all day on one leg was exhausting. Jalla folded her arms over her chest, not willing to give in to weakness like I was. But as the minutes wore on, I saw her gaze linger on me more than once before she sighed and sat, too.

“This is the longest battle I’ve ever heard of.”

“Maybe this time someone will open that machine up,” I said. I could almost swear that something was moving inside it now, but the way my gaze slid over the actual structure made it hard to be certain. A very faint whirr seemed to linger in the air.

“Unlikely.”

“Why battle at all if no one believes it can be opened?” I asked.

“It’s important – traditional. Traditions have a weight of their own, whether or not they are true.”

“But-”

I had meant to say more, but a vision hit me so hard that I nearly fell over – maybe I did fall over. Shonan’s face in the last light of dusk looked desperate. He clung to the neck of Rasiapaer as they flew. Behind them, gouts of fire and screams followed.

I sucked in a breath, shuddering. Maybe Rakturan’s relic could stop visions. I would pay good money for that.

“Amel!” Jalla’s tone was so full of hope that my eyes shot open and I scrambled back to a seated position. I really had been knocked over.

I followed her gaze to see the Crescent Prince sink to one knee. I gasped, gaze rushing to Rakturan. He leaned forward, sweat dripping on the machine as the whirring noise grew louder. There! Something was moving in the machine! With a rapid series of clunks, a set of cage supports opened outward like a blooming flower. I squinted, forcing myself to look at the cage. It wasn’t fully open, but the outermost layer of the cage had opened outward, forming a flower-like shelf around the rest of the cage. They’d done something!

“It’s working,” I breathed.

When Jalla didn’t answer, I risked a glance at her. Her mouth was open in a silent “O.”

“Jalla!” I nudged her. “What happens next?”

She was shaking like a leaf. Jalla! The crazy war leader with the big sword and the desire to take people as slaves. She shouted something in her own language. There was a cry from across the bowl and then a rush of feet as people hurried to where we were. I stood up, excitement filling me. Rakturan was going to win! He was going to do this!

A gust of wind made me sway against my crutch, but my eyes were fixed on Rakturan. He looked undaunted. His features were set in determined lines as he stared across at his opponent. He had the strength for this. His opponent had dropped to both knees now, almost hanging off the handle to keep him from slumping to the rock floor.

I almost cheered, the excitement was so heady. Jalla was explaining something in her quick, consonant-heavy tongue and then all of a sudden, she screamed. I looked up just in time to see a massive Ifrit cross the last foot to the Kah’deem and grab one of the handles in a smoky palm. His form flickered and coalesced only to spread out in a cloud of dust again and reform. But the smoke never left the handle.

No wonder the Crescent Prince hadn’t brought up a second. He had a whole line of them and they were massive, otherworldly, and terrifying.

Chapter Seventeen

The next few minutes were measured between heartbeats. The Ifrit turned his gaze on me, his furnace eyes making my knee like jelly. I swayed on my crutch, gasping for a breath. My lungs were frozen. They wouldn’t take a breath.

Thud.

His gaze swung to Rakturan, and before my eyes, the Dark Prince crumpled like a mighty tree falling. He swayed, back and forth, starting small and then rocking further and further, side to side, and then dropped to his knees, both hands wrapped around the handle of the cage.

Thud.

Rakturan clung to the handle as the Crescent Prince finally lost his grip, splaying across the rock, his face falling with a smack into the small pool of blood that had gathered beneath the handle. I watched with horror as he twitched, spreading the blood across the rock in fast-drying trails.

Thud.

My vision blurred for a moment as I steadied myself on the crutch. If Rakturan let go of his handle, there would only be the Ifrit left. Would that mean the Ifrit was now the leader of Baojang? What other power might that artifact give him? But what would it mean to challenge a dust demon in this test when a mere man was such a difficult opponent? I swayed a single step forward.

Thud.

Jalla yelled out something and I looked over my shoulder to see people packed around the platform, shoulder to shoulder, body to body, their faces displaying multiple iterations of the same gasp of horror.

Thud.

I snapped into a vision of Savette - in a white tabard now, edged with gold – fighting in the moonlight on the top of a hill. Her people were surrounded by a grim army below. The light in her eyes was fainter. She turned to me, as if she could see me there in spirit.

“Help him,” she said, her expression desperate.

Thud.

I gritted my teeth and took a second step forward.

Thud.

“The Dark Prince needs our help,” Jalla screamed, rushing forward. She was going to grab a handle, wasn’t she? But she wasn’t up to this challenge. I knew that, without knowing how. I knew that if Rakturan – loyal to Savette as no one else was, and with the light of Truth in his eyes – if he couldn’t fight off the Ifrit, then Jalla certainly could not.

Thud.

Or at least, not alone. I took a third step, this time with purpose in my heart. My palm tingled at the thought of grabbing that spiked handle. Fear shot through me, cold and acid. I swallowed it down, wiped my palm on my thigh, and seized the handle.

Thud.

Pain burst through me and I gritted my teeth as I tightened my grip. I wouldn’t let go now. Not until it was done. Jalla was yelling something, but I didn’t even listen. There was work to do now. She could call me “slave” and order me around when this was all done.

Thud.

My vision went white.

Chapter Eighteen

I was in a camp sitting beside a fire with a ring of others. Everyone looked tired as they sipped hot drinks from battered metal cups.

“Even with our forces combined, our numbers are even with theirs,” one of the women said eventually. Her clothing marked her as a soldier – high ranking, I thought.

I reached for my own cup and startled. My hand was much larger than usual. Calloused. Manly.

“If we attack before first light, we run the risk of losing men in the dark,” a second woman said. She looked like she ate dragon scales for breakfast. “The sky is heavy with clouds and torches would give away our positions.”

“But we can see the fighting on the hill,” one of the men said. A Castelan by his fine clothing and armor. “Those are our allies. If we delay, they may not survive until morning.”

I followed his gaze to a hill in the distance where light flashed from time to time.

“It only started when we pitched our tents – less than an hour ago,” the first woman said. “We don’t really know how many allies are there – our scouts didn’t see them. We only got a good look at the enemy camp.”

“But Leng Shardson said the Chosen One fights with light. What if that is her out there? What if she needs us?” the Castelan asked. He looked at me. “Do you think it is her, Shardson? Should we attack tonight?”

I was in Leng’s body! Somehow this machine had taken it over! In the distance, I saw a flash of light – definitely Savette. Was the Ifrit being asked to make choices on the other side? What devilish plans would he approve?

I needed to speak up. Everyone was looking at me. But I was no military leader! I had a sudden feeling that my answer would make a difference not only for Leng and Savette but also for the test back at the Kah’deem. I swallowed.

“We need to risk it. By tomorrow, it might be too late.”

Pain shot through me, so powerful that I couldn’t see, couldn’t think, couldn’t even scream. There was a flash and I was back on the platform in the bowl, facing the Ifrit. His eyes were wilder than usual, flame bursting from them. I sucked in a gasp of breath. The pain was dulled. Still there. Not gone. But not as sharp, either.

I was there with you. I felt that.

I wasn’t alone! But how could Raolcan be there, too?

“You can’t fail us, Amel, straighten up. Fight!” Jalla was as enjoyable as ever. But I noticed that she hadn’t grabbed a handle. I sensed her beside me and out of the corner of my eye, I could see she was bandaging Rakturan’s hand. He was sprawled across her lap, unconscious, the light in his eyes so faint that even though the blindfold had slipped off, it hardly seemed to matter.

I think your choices are being judged. Choose well and you are rewarded. Choose poorly ... well, even the reward hurts. Try to see if you can open that cage somehow. I wonder if those handles do anything.

I gritted my teeth and twisted at the handle, gasping when something clicked, and a second layer of the cage opened up like a clock-work onion.

Yes!

I tried again but it wouldn’t budge. My victory was short lived.

Chapter Nineteen

At least I was expecting it this time.

When I shifted, my first reaction was to take in clues, but I’d expected a battlefield or at least some place I could identify and this was neither of those things. Around me, everything was black with the thick blackness of suffocating darkness. Only faint outlines in a light blue so faint I could barely make it out showed some sort of landscape. It was like the shadow of a light after the light was extinguished. I tried to keep my breath even as I grew used to seeing the world in shades of black. There were walls around me – pretty far away, like I was in the center of a large room – and they went up, up, up until I couldn’t make out the blue outlines anymore. It was like I was in the world’s most massive underground cave. I thought I heard the trickling of water and then a shuffling sound drew my attention. I gasped as a single Troglodyte walked into view, his glowing, translucent skin bright as the moon in this black world.

ARE YOU AGREED, THEN? YOU WILL REMOVE THIS PRETENDER?

They must be speaking to Shonan about the false Dominar! Shonan hadn’t been decided on that when last I saw him, but my own mind was made up. Still, I hesitated. I shouldn’t answer on his behalf, shouldn’t take his free will. Hadn’t Rakturan been angry with me for making promises on his behalf about the Kah’deem? What made this any different?

WELL?

“Yes,” I said. It was best for him and best for everyone. I screwed up my courage. I was the one making the decision at the moment. I would make the right one, even if it wasn’t the one he would want me to make.

AND WILL YOU TAKE HIS PLACE?

Something shoved me out of control of Shonan so suddenly that I was still reeling when he said, “No.” Was that what he really wanted? What was happening? A feeling of malevolence reached out to me from his direction and in horror, I realized what had happened. The Ifrit was here in this test, and he had wrested Shonan from me and answered on his behalf.

NO? YOU INSULT US!

I pushed back as hard as I could. Whatever Shonan wanted, he wouldn’t want to be taken over by a demon. I had to stop this. I hit up hard against something, mentally, and then pushed a second time, feeling it give against my thrust.

“No insult is meant,” I gasped. How did I recover from this without losing the dragons as allies? “I will remove him so that the person of your choice may take his place. The Troglodyte Elders should choose.”

Was it enough? They seemed mollified, but I didn’t get to hear if they were. I was snatched away, gasping as I gripped the pain handle and wracked with shudders of bone-breaking pain rippling through me. Across the Kah’deem, the Ifrit rocked in fear. I wasn’t the only one experiencing this pain. Maybe the pain was even worse if you didn’t get your goal.

There was a snick sound from within the cage, but nothing else happened. I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for the next trial. What if the Ifrit was stronger this time? What if I couldn’t keep him away? What if the stakes were too high and something terrible happened? I wasn’t ready. I needed a minute to breathe.

Just breathe. It will be okay.

I was plunged head-first into someone else’s consciousness. We were running over the rooftops in a strange city. Far out on the horizon, light flickered and flared like a battle was being fought. My lungs ached with every breath like I’d been running so long I’d worn them ragged. Behind me, someone half-sobbed and her footsteps skidded. There was a strangled cry and I spun to see Haskell slip on the roof tile and slide over the edge of the roof. I scrambled down to where she was, my old joints aching, my muscles stiff. She’d caught the edge of the roof and was hanging, mutely, on the edge, her teeth gritted in fear.

My eyes widened at the drop. We were on the very edge of a sky city. In the dark, I couldn’t even see the ground below her. I stabilized myself and crouched down to grab her wrist. Wind buffeted us, rocking her feet as they hung limply beneath her. I could already hear the sounds of our pursuers growing louder, but there wasn’t time to think of that. Somehow, I knew we had something important with us – I had something important with me – that couldn’t get into their hands.

“Leave me,” Haskell whispered, but I shook my head, grabbing her arm tighter and pulling upward.

“Never.”

Her other hand slipped and she lost her grip, sending me sprawling forward at the sudden weight. I caught my balance and pulled, the grip of my hands on hers the only thing holding her from death.

I felt a mental nudge against me and I gritted my teeth, pulling harder. Another nudge - rougher this time – left me seeing stars and grunting as I fought dizziness and Haskell’s weight all at once. I couldn’t drop her. I couldn’t let that happen.

The next blow hit me so hard that I spun wildly from Hubric’s head. I seemed to be looking from far away. Hubric lost his grip and Haskell fell away, silent still despite her fate – like an angel flying in the wrong direction.

The look on Hubric’s face tore through me like the tip of a spear. Horror and loss left his eyes hollow. His hand reached up to clutch his chest, his mouth working though no words or scream escaped it.

I blinked, and I was back to the Kah’deem, tears streaming down my face. I was on both knees, shaking like a leaf, but this time the physical pain was nothing to what I was feeling in my heart. I’d betrayed him. Unwillingly, certainly, but I had. No wonder so many leaders had gone insane gripping these handles. No wonder some had died.

Hold on, Amel. Don’t give up.

But I had to give up, didn’t I? Because who was left? Only Savette. And if I let the Ifrit take her choices from her, then all was lost.

But if you give up, he will be the only one left to make those choices. You have to stop him!

No. I couldn’t. I needed to just let go.

STOP HIM

Was I imagining things, or had a Troglodyte just spoken to me?

I didn’t have time to find out.

Chapter Twenty

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it.

And then I was standing on a hill, the wind whipping my hair around me as my soldiers fought on every side. We were outnumbered and surrounded. Cold wind and rain slashed through my light dress and tabard, but I stood tall. They couldn’t see me flinch. It would make them quaver, too.

An Ifrit attack plunged deep into the heart of my lines around the crown of the hill. I heard the shouts first and then the clash of metal on metal. I spun, raising my hands, feeling the truth fill me. This must not hap-

Control was wrested from me by the Ifrit, but I fought back. How did he do it the first time? He’d nudged me. The battlefield was in chaos as Ifrits burst up from all sides. Soldiers – some Dominion just like us, others Baojang – attacked, rolling over our battle lines and breaching the defenses. Screams surrounded me as our men and women fell before them. A burst of Red dragons swooped past, flaming at the Ifrits in a complicated maneuver as beautiful as it was useless, against the terrifying foes. If the Ifrit had Savette there would be no hope.

He doesn’t have me. He is simply blocking me.

Was that her?

Who else would it be?

But she was fading. She fell to her knees, sweat breaking out along her forehead. As the light began to fade from Savette’s eyes, I pushed back mentally as hard as I could, thinking about Savette. She thought of the world in complicated tangles. She saw truth in everything. What was the truth here?

Unbidden, the words of the prophecy came to me, In the dark of night in the heat of battle, in the fire and flood, mercy comes. The strength of a friend to fight off demons, at the push of an ally, the enemy runs.

There was a prophecy about me! How could it mean anything else? I pushed with all my might, thrusting the Ifrit aside. Savette – me – surged to my feet, light springing to my fingertips. I directed it at the nearest Ifrit, not pausing to watch him explode to dust before focusing on the next, and the next, and the next. I felt the Ifrit battering at my mind, but I didn’t need to work to keep him out. He was never meant to be in this mind. He had no place here. I did. I was the friend who was here to lend strength.

Minute flowed into minute as I fought, watching as our people rallied, surrounding a white banner. The golden sun rose over a hill on the field of white and as it rose back into the air, our soldiers pushed back at the enemy. There were still too few of us – far too few. I slammed the force of Truth into the last Ifrit, a slight smile spreading across my face. Better to die here than anywhere else. Wait. That would mean the Chosen One would die. The smile faded.

A cry rose up from our flank and I spun to see what it was. A new attack? But no, that sounded like cheering. I spun in the other direction as a burst of cheers broke out in front of me. All along our perimeter, groups of people were joining us. They materialized out of nowhere like sudden rain on a sunny day. I didn’t have time to marvel, didn’t have time to join the cheer. I glimpsed – far away – a familiar face – Leng! – before I was swept back to my own reality, the Kah’deem.

I knew I was still there because of the pain washing over me. But no. I couldn’t look, couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything more.

Open your eyes.

It was too much. I couldn’t handle even one more thing.

Open them!

Opening my eyes was like trying to pry open a chest. Eventually, they opened to a slit just in time to see the Ifrit opposite me burst into a cloud of crystalline dust. Dawn was creeping up over the horizon. It had taken us all night. I opened my mouth to cheer or speak – or do something – but it was dust dry and all I made was a quiet croak.

Hurry!

Why hurry now? My opponents were gone. Collapsed, or disintegrated. But I couldn’t ignore the urgency in Raolcan’s tone. I twisted the handle, feeling the spikes dig deeper into my tender hand. The last cage around the artifact fell free and with a shing sound, the artifact sprang up out of the rock. I reached out my other hand and grabbed it.

Use it! Use it now!

And then, finally, I looked up.

Raolcan was at my side, hunched low as if to defend me. Someone had thrown Rakturan over his back. Jalla stood beside him, spear and sword ready, eyes full of violence. And no wonder. Her warriors surrounded the platform, but the men brought by the Crescent Prince had their own weapons drawn.

I drew a breath. Had there been blood shed yet?

Any moment now....

The first Ifrit in the line of Ifrits took a step forward and as if it was the sound of the trumpet, there was a cry from the Crescent Prince’s men and they rushed forward to clash and clatter against our warriors.

I let go of the spiked handle, tearing up at the pain in my shredded hand. No time to bandage it. The Ifrits rushed toward us – a line of dust and horror. I lifted the artifact. Now that it was free it felt - strange – almost as if it were alive. I could almost swear it was moving in my hand. But it was still a musical instrument.

Without knowing what else to do, I lifted it to my lips and blew a single note. Though I didn’t know what to expect, if I had guessed, it would not be what happened next. There was a roar of wind all around us. Sand whipped up, clogging my eyes, filling my ears, I pulled the artifact from my mouth and covered my face with my arm, holding my elbow over my eyes.

The howling seemed endless. Minute flowed into minute until the roar stilled and the battering of the wind died down.

You can open your eyes now.

The Ifrits had disappeared. Their human allies stood gaping – as shocked as we were.

Jalla snatched the instrument from my lips, a smile on her face. “I’ll take that, slave.”

Read more of Amel’s story in Dragon School: Pipe of Wings.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty