AutumnQuest (2 page)

He caught my gaze and gave me half a wink. What did
that
mean? Was he
trying
to drive me crazy, or just succeeding?

After supper, I went back to my cell. It was my chore group’s week off, and I decided to use the extra time to translate more lines of the epic poem,
Galina’s Travels
, from the ancient language Zahrainian.

I loved sitting alone in my cell studying. It was a luxury I’d never been able to enjoy at home. Before coming to Roylinn, I’d gone to the village magician to learn reading, writing, sums, and even a few spells. But studying in a busy farmhouse, even a small one like ours, meant constant interruptions. By comparison, my cell was almost like having my own private study hall.

It was a small, spare room, exactly the same as every other novice had. It had a cot with a reasonably comfortable pad and bedding appropriate to the season—thankfully no freezing nights in Winter. There was a sturdy, well-used desk with an accumulation of old ink blotches and messages carved into the wood by past residents. Black wall sconces held fat, double-wicked candles and an oil lamp on the desk provided extra reading light. A high window let in light during the day but didn’t allow a view that might distract when one should be studying. Other than a shelf above the desk to hold books, the pinkish stone walls were bare. Nothing fancy. But my very own, all the same.

I lit the lamp, since the shortening days of early Autumn left the room too dark for studying. Then I pulled the lexicon off the shelf and settled down with the text of the poem and my writing implements. Time escaped me as I tried to unravel the knotty translation.

I’d barely finished the assignment for tomorrow’s class when the night tocsin rang out. Where had the time gone? I blotted the paper, wiped my quill pen clean, and placed the books back on the shelf.

The washroom, to my surprise, was empty, giving me a chance to take more time than usual to get ready for bed. After washing my face and cleaning my teeth, I brushed my hair and braided it. It was really getting long now, down to my waist, and beginning to darken for the Winter.

Then back to my cell, where I changed into a flannel night-shirt of nondescript grey, put out all the lights, and got into bed. The down comforter was perfect for snuggling into on a brisk Autumn night, and I curled up under it.

A quiet rap on my door interrupted my drowsing off. I pulled the comforter away from my head and listened, hoping it had been my imagination. Then I heard Breyard whisper my name.

I threw back the covers and took the three steps to the door. Unlatching it, I started to formulate a scathing reply, but then I saw his face.

“C’mon,” he said, reaching out with a trembling hand and taking my arm, pulling me gently.

“What?” I poked my head out the door and looked up and down the corridor. “You’re not supposed to be here. And it’s past curfew, too.”

“I need your help. Hurry.”

I was tempted to shut the door on him. But then, much like the scent of Summer flowers on a breeze, a sense of his distress wafted over me. The hair on my arms felt as if it were standing up. I tried to shake the feeling off.

“Wait a second,” I said. He made an impatient noise but waited while I pulled a robe over my nightshirt and slipped on a pair of sandals.

He held my hand as we sped through the dimly lit corridors. No one was around, not even teachers, so it had to be even later than I’d thought. But we could still run into night staff, and then we’d be in big trouble. Breyard knew that, so this really had to be an emergency.

My heart leapt to my throat as the thought occurred to me that it must have been something about our parents. That was the only thing that would explain—

But then we were past the corridor that led to the headmaster’s office, and if it were our parents, we would surely have been going there.

I pulled back and tried to stop.

“Will you tell—” I started.

“Shh. Just come.
Please
.” Breyard looked back at me, a pleading look in his eyes. I kept moving.

We headed down a corridor I’d never been in before: the boys’ block. He finally stopped in front of a door. It better be
his
cell door, I thought. He opened it a crack and peeked inside, then, apparently satisfied, pushed it open. He reached for my hand again and pulled me into the cell behind him. I closed the door, careful not to make a sound. Breyard let out a noisy sigh.

“Now will you tell me what’s going on?” I demanded. I didn’t shout at him the way I wanted to. Raised voices could be heard beyond the thick, stone walls.

“I don’t know, but look.” He pointed to his bed. The egg lay upon it, twitching. I stepped nearer. “What do you think is happening?” he asked.

“How should I know?” I scowled up at him in disbelief that he’d got me out of bed for this. “It’s
your
stupid joke. What are you asking me for?”

“This isn’t a joke, Donavah,” he hissed.

I looked at him with narrowed eyes. “All right. You got me. Satisfied? I’ve broken all kinds of rules to follow you. I can’t believe—” I turned around to leave, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back into the centre of the room.

“I’m serious. This really isn’t a joke.” Even in my annoyance, I could hear a note of desperation in his voice. And as if to prove he was telling the truth, a loud
CRACK!
echoed off the walls.

We both looked at the egg, only to find that it wasn’t an egg anymore. A small red dragon tentatively stretched out its wings and creeled softly in hunger.

By edict of King Erno,

Thirty-Second Absolute Monarch of Alloway~

Henceforth from today, that which has previously been by custom is herewith codified into law, that no person other than the monarch is to be in possession of or to associate with dragons, under pain of death.

This edict is certified and dispensed today, the third day in the fourth month of the second year of Erno’s reign.

~from the archives of King Erno of Alloway

We stood speechless for a moment, and my heart began to race. I even wondered for a moment if I were actually dreaming, but Breyard’s painful grip on my arm ended that hope. It really
was
a dragon, an
illegal
dragon. Here in my brother’s room. If anyone found out . . .

“What are we going to do?” he asked, his voice cracking.

“We?” I squeaked. “Since when is this
my
problem?”

“Donavah! I need your help!” If I’d thought he looked frightened before, it was nothing compared to how he looked now. “I’ve never been any good with animals.”

“Guess you should have thought about that before you acquired this egg. And speaking of which—”

A piercing shriek interrupted me. I swallowed a scream before I realized it was the dragon. The first thing we had to do was feed it and get it to be quiet.

“Food,” I choked out. “Get it something to eat.”

Breyard was gone in an instant, no doubt grateful for the excuse to get out of there.

I approached the baby dragon, unsure of just how dangerous it might be. It looked at me and our eyes locked. I hummed a low note, hoping that would soothe it. The dragon settled back on its haunches and gave me a quizzical look. I chuckled, and it cheeped back at me. I held out a hand, ready to pull it away if I was wrong, but the dragon seemed to understand and rubbed its head against my fingers, just like a cat.

Its red skin was soft, smooth, and just slightly damp. In the glow of the candles in their sconces, it seemed to shimmer with hints of blue, purple, and pink. The half-transparent wings looked as if a breath could shred them. I couldn’t believe how long the tail was, and I wondered how this entire creature—almost the size of my torso, not including its wings—had fit inside the egg. It must have been awfully cramped. I ran a finger gently down the spine, and the dragon crooned. I grew more confident.

When Breyard came back into the cell, his jaw dropped at the sight of me sitting on the cot with my lap full of a long, lithe body, a wing jammed under my chin, and a tail wrapped around my waist like a jewelled belt. Something in the sack he carried caught the dragon’s attention, and another soft cry spurred him into motion. He dumped his offering onto the foot of his cot.

“Apples?” I asked in disbelief.

“I brought everything I could lay my hands on,” he growled. “I don’t exactly know my way around the kitchen, much less what a dragon eats.”

Sure enough, the dragon dug through the pile until it found what it had smelled—a chunk of bright red raw meat. It also ate the cheese, but ignored everything else.

“She feels much better now,” I said.

“She?” His eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah,” I said, a little confused. “I’m not sure how I know that.”

Breyard shook his head. “The next thing you know, you’re going to say you want to keep it as a pet.”

“No! Definitely not! We need to get her out of here, first thing in the morning. Or sooner. There’s no such thing as a tame dragon, no matter how cute and sweet she is right now.”

“You think she’s cute and sweet? You’re pathetic.”

I ignored him. “Not to mention what would happen if you got caught with her.”

The dragon curled up on the cot, which was littered with bits of egg shell, the food she hadn’t eaten, and the juice of the meat. Her eyes were already half closed.

“Guess you’re not sleeping in your bed tonight.” I grinned at the dismay on his face. But I was still curious about something. “How’d you get hold of this egg anyway?”

“My chore group had market duty yesterday, and on the way back, we came across an old carter stopped on the side of the road. The tongue of his wagon had broken. I helped him fix it, and in exchange, he gave me the egg. I didn’t believe him when he said it was a dragon egg. Honest.”

“You accepted a gift for a favor? You know that’s against the rules for novices.”

Breyard rubbed his eyes. “I know. But the old man wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. He almost cried when I first refused. What was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, but it strikes me that accepting a gift that could get you executed wasn’t the best choice.”

“I told you, I didn’t think it was really a dragon egg,” Breyard insisted. Then his face blanched as what I said registered. “Oh, no,” he whispered. “What am I going to do?”

“Well, as soon as she wakes up, why not just take her outside and let her go? She’ll know how to take care of herself. Reptiles do. And she’s a sort of reptile. I think.” I looked again at the sleeping dragon. “In the meantime, clean everything up. It’s not as if you’re going to get any sleep anyway.” I moved towards the door.

“You’re not going to leave, are you?”

“I’ve already lost enough sleep tonight.
I’m
going to bed.”

“Donavah, please! Don’t leave me alone with . . . with
. . . a dragon in my bed.”

“Maybe it’s fate’s way of getting you used to the idea.” That left him blushing and speechless, and I had a hard time not laughing aloud as I left his cell to sneak back to my own.

Next morning, I was doubly careful to use the right candles for meditation. Everything had seemed off-kilter since the previous afternoon, and surely this would set things back to rights.

At breakfast, I could tell even from a distance that Breyard hadn’t had any sleep. The dark circles under his eyes and the untidiness of his hair and robe gave him away. He’d shaved, but that was probably only because it was a rule for male novices and he would’ve been in trouble if he hadn’t.

I wondered if he’d managed to get rid of the dragon yet. As if he could read my mind, he looked over and gave me a small, relieved nod. I smiled back at him.

Despite having gone back to bed the night before, I hadn’t got much sleep myself. I kept imagining over and over what would happen if Breyard got caught with the baby dragon. Only the king could have dragons, and he used them for what he and his hangers-on called ‘entertainment’ and everyone else called ‘executions.’

He was a brutal man, was King Erno, Thirty-Second Absolute Monarch of Alloway. I tried to put a stop to that treasonous line of thought, but I couldn’t stop the stories I’d heard coming unbidden into my head. He’d as soon execute an innocent man, they said, as bother with a trial. He kept slaves in chains, regardless that slavery had been outlawed hundreds of years ago. I’d even heard it whispered that he drank babies’ blood at high feasts. Being in possession of one of King Erno’s precious dragon eggs was not exactly the best means one could contrive to avoid coming to his attention.

But Breyard must have gotten rid of the “evidence,” and now that I knew all was well, the smell of porridge and buttered toast suddenly awakened my appetite. I ate ravenously, much as the dragon had the night before.

Soon Marileesa sat next to me with her breakfast tray. Today she wore her dark, curly hair loose, and her deep blue eyes danced in pleased excitement. She still couldn’t seem to stop smiling, and her mood—combined with my relief over Breyard getting rid of the dragon—made me grin, even if I couldn’t follow her chatter about rehearsal schedules and special music sessions.

Before long, Loreen and Sira joined us. Sira was darker than the rest of us, with brown eyes that snapped and sparkled as she watched everything going on around her. She was the quiet one in our little group, never saying much but often pulling a small quill pen and bottle of ink from her bag to jot things down in a special calfskin-covered book. Lore was her best subject, and I knew that some day in the future, other novices like us would be poring over her words and trying to understand them.

Loreen was the only one of us interested in boys, and it was my bad luck that it was Breyard on whom she was keenest. She could’ve been the prettiest one of us, if only she’d put in a bit of effort, and it seemed ironic to me that she didn’t. When she kept her mind on what the spells master was teaching and not on the male members of the class, she could cast any spell set before her. Sometimes I wondered why she didn’t just cast a love spell to get what she wanted.

Now Loreen was mooning, as usual. Over Breyard. What could she possibly see in my brother? Couldn’t she tell that he was more of a bother than anything else? Trying to act nonchalant, she asked me, as she often did, what he was doing these days.

With a pause that must have seemed melodramatic, I looked at each of my friends in turn. Really, I knew I shouldn’t—but, “Can you keep a secret?” I whispered. Surely I could trust them. They exchanged curious glances, nodded their heads, and leaned forward conspiratorially.

I plunged in and told them all about the dragon egg and last night’s events. We sat huddled together, and I spoke quietly to make sure that not even a syllable could be heard beyond us. Marileesa even seemed to forget about Summer Solstice.

When I finished my tale, the others sat in stunned silence for a moment. Then Loreen let out a shaky sigh and said, “But what’s Breyard going to do with a baby dragon?”

Far too loudly.

It seemed as if her words echoed and re-echoed off the refectory walls. Everyone must have heard. While the others shushed her, I looked around to see if anyone was watching us. Not a single eye caught mine. But the words seemed even now to fill the air.

Loreen had her hands clamped over her mouth while tears welled in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she squeaked between her fingers.

Sira shook her head, but Marileesa put a hand on Loreen’s arm. “I think it’s all right,” she said. I stared at my three friends, unable to say anything. It felt as if my stomach had turned to stone and dropped to the floor. My heart either had stopped beating or was racing, I couldn’t tell which, while my ears pounded and my face burned.

If anything happened to Breyard, I wasn’t sure who I’d have to kill first: myself or Loreen.

After an interminable time that was probably actually less than five minutes, the bell rang for the end of breakfast. We gathered up our things to go to our classes. I tried not to scowl at Loreen, who was still wiping her eyes.