Avian (The Dragonrider Chronicles) (22 page)

The days leading up to training passed slowly, and each one was more miserable than the last. Felix didn’t talk to me at all. He wouldn’t even look at me. I’d never been so lonely in my life. I knew he was just sulking. It was probably killing him, too. But I wasn’t going to give up now; it was much safer for him to keep his distance from me.

My nightmares continued every night without fail. As soon as I closed my eyes, I was pulled into that same vision. I fought it as hard as I could. It never helped at all. All I wanted was a few hours of sleep. The dream played over and over again in my head, startling me awake every time. I always woke up in a cold sweat with those eerie words ringing in my ears:

“
Return it.
”

After he was released from the infirmary with a broken nose, Lyon joined us in our early morning training drills. He struggled with the running because his old instructor had never required him to do anything like that. Jace spent a lot of extra time “encouraging” him.

The closer we got to the start of training, the more ruthless Jace was about our morning routine. He yelled until it felt like my eardrums were sore. One day, he even came out with a bullwhip while we were struggling through an hour of push-ups. If we slowed down at all, he cracked it in the air. He was incredibly accurate with it. He could pop it right at the tip of my nose. It never actually hit me, but I could practically taste the leather in my teeth.

After finishing our morning drills, the three of us worked through cleaning saddles. It took us hours to finish, but no one ever said a word. Felix was still sulking, so he wouldn’t talk to me. Lyon looked terrified of both of us, and he never said a word. His face was bruised up, thanks to me. I felt really bad about that, but I couldn’t bring myself to apologize. I couldn’t find the will to try talking to either of them, not that they would have answered. It was depressing to work for so long in total silence.

In the dining hall, I sat by myself. It was painful to watch Felix sitting with the other avians, laughing and carrying on like always. The gnawing sense of loneliness in my chest wore on me. It was getting harder and harder to cope. I didn’t want to be here anymore. I started thinking about leaving altogether, but I knew Sile would probably hunt me down to the ends of the earth if I gave up. He’d spent a lot of money and risked his honor and good name for me to be here.

The day before training, I got word that my gear was finally finished. It had taken a lot longer than I expected, especially since none of my stuff was that intricate. But after morning drills, Jace gave me permission to go and pick up everything before I started to work on cleaning saddles.

I went alone to pick up my armor first. I waited while the blacksmith brought it out piece by piece, laying everything out on a worktable so I could inspect it. He’d wrapped it all in rags to protect it.

About the same time I started unwrapping it, the blacksmith spoke up. “Took a little longer after you made those changes.”

“Changes?” I held up one of the gauntlets. It was definitely the traditional style I’d chosen, but there were a lot more grooves cut into it than before. As I unwrapped each piece of my new armor, I noticed more and more of those same beautiful details. All the bolts holding it together were plated in gold. The breastplate was accented with grooves and etchings. The armor was much more ornate than I had asked for.

The helmet was the most detailed of all. There was a snarling dragon’s head engraved on both sides of it, so that it looked like my face was coming out of its mouth. The engraved lines of the design had been inlaid with gold, so it shimmered in the light. It was beautiful, but definitely not what I’d ordered.

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” I said.

The blacksmith scowled at me. He dug through his box of paperwork until he found my forms, and shoved them at me roughly. The first few pages looked exactly how I remembered, but on the last page there was big paragraph scribbled asking for all the extra details. I knew that handwriting right away.

“It’s already been paid for,” the blacksmith grumbled.

I scowled at the paper. I had to fight the urge to crumple it up in anger. “It’s okay,” I managed to growl through my teeth. “I must have forgotten. I’ll take it.”

The blacksmith wrapped all the pieces back up for me, placing them carefully in a big canvas bag. I slung it over my shoulder and carried it away toward the tackmaster. I already had suspicions burning in my brain before I ever got there.

And I was right.

My saddle order had been changed as well. Instead of the plain saddle I had ordered, someone had gone right behind me and added details. They’d also paid extra for them. The saddle was beyond beautiful. It was made of dark, chocolate brown and black leather. The buckles were layered with an extra layer of brass so that they shimmered to match the gold details on my armor. The sides were engraved with intricate scrollwork like vines, images of dragons, and something that looked suspiciously like a turtle. The seat was padded with layers of soft deer hide, and the handles were made from engraved milky white ivory.

Even with the extra money I’d had leftover, there was no way I could have afforded something like this. I had only seen my father make a saddle this nice a few times in my life, and always for some high ranking official like a general. I was so shocked that I forgot to get upset about it.

Mavrik stretched out obediently on the ground when I asked him to let me fit the saddle to his back. He made a big show of yawning and groaning as I put it on, testing the fit of all the straps. It was perfect. The brown leather looked almost red against his dusky blue scales. And the black leather picked up on the onyx color of his horns. It didn’t look like a saddle at all—it looked like a part of him. The sight of it made me smile.

Mavrik shifted and squirmed, testing the fit before he finally gave me a chirp of approval.

“It’s good?” I asked him.

He answered with a blast of hot, stinking dragon breath in my face as he yawned again. I took that as a “yes.”

“Fine, then. Try not to bang it up, will you? I can’t afford to replace it.” I patted his neck and sent him off. After I cleared everything with the tackmaster and thanked him for his work, I didn’t waste any more time around the armories.

I owed someone a piece of my mind.

Felix was sitting outside the dormitory, picking food out of his teeth after breakfast. A few other avians were standing around talking to him, but they cleared out as soon as they saw me coming. I guess I had made an impression after all.

I took the bag of armor off my back and sat it on the ground between us. “Why did you do that?” I demanded.

Felix glared at my shadow. He wouldn’t look up at me, and he didn’t say a word. That stubborn, rich idiot. I’d recognized his handwriting on those order forms immediately.

I was getting really tired of his sulking act. “You know I can’t pay you back for this. That saddle probably cost more than I would at the slave market.”

“You’re not paying me back,” Felix snapped suddenly. “So don’t even try. It was supposed to be a gift.”

“Why?”

He finally met my gaze with stubborn fury in his eyes. “Because even though you’re being stupid, you’re still my friend. Because you’re a dragonrider, and there’s an expectation of how we should look when we go into battle. And because when you die, you’ll be buried in that armor, and it shouldn’t look like a rusted out tin bucket. You deserve better than that. Do I need any other reasons?”

I choked on my frustration. I couldn’t even get a word out.

“I get why you’re doing this. You think you’re doing me a favor by keeping me in the dark. Don’t you realize I know the risks of being around you?” Felix’s body language relaxed some as he let out a heavy sigh. He started scratching at the back of his head. “I understand all that, and I don’t care. If you’re going down, then I’m going down with you. That’s the way it is.”

“But—” I started to object until he cut me off.

“Oh give it up, will you? If you’re not ready to tell me what’s really going on with you, then fine. I guess that’s your business. But quit trying to protect me. It’s weird and annoying.”

For some reason, I had to smile. I knew Felix pretty well. He never liked admitting when he was wrong about anything. This seemed like his way of letting me know he felt bad about pushing me for information. He would let me keep my secrets for now.

“Fine. Quit buying me stuff behind my back.” I added.

When Felix looked up at me again, he was finally grinning. The tension in the air was gone. Things were back to normal again. It felt like a weight had been lifted off me.

He stood up, and punched my arm. “That’s the worst thank you I’ve ever heard.”

Working through tack detail duties was so much easier now that Felix and I were back on speaking terms. Lyon never said a word, but he showed up and helped out as usual. I still felt a nagging sense of guilt whenever I looked at him. Lyon’s blue, battered nose was wrapped up in gauze that went all the way around his head. I’d overheard some of the other avians joking that he would probably have a crooked nose for the rest of his life. I’d never meant for that to happen, and he seemed genuinely terrified of both of us now. I decided to try to find the right moment to apologize to him—preferably when Felix wasn’t there to heckle me for it.

After we finished up with tack detail, there was still plenty of daylight left. It was the last day before the official start of training, so the academy was full of people. Craftsmen were packing up to leave in the morning. Instructors were showing the new fledglings where they had to go on their first day. There were dragons everywhere. Some circled overhead, riding in the updrafts or chasing each other. Others lounged on the ground, napping in groups like lazy housecats. More were climbing the walls and preening their scales, or basking in the last few rays of sunlight. There was so much energy in the air that it felt contagious. Sure, my brain was a scrambled, exhausted mess, but I was still excited for the first call to arms in the morning. I was ready to get started.

On our way out of the tack room, Felix started poking my shoulder excitedly. “Hey, let’s go for a ride. We haven’t flown together since last year, and you need to test out that new saddle.”

I tried to resist. I’d already gotten in trouble with Jace twice. I wasn’t looking to test how many chances he’d give me. “Will Jace get angry if we go without his permission?”

“Maybe not. I mean, we’re not fledglings anymore. We can handle it if something goes wrong.” Felix was a champion when it came to bargaining with me. He knew I wanted to fly as badly as he did. It didn’t take much to convince me.

“Okay, fine.” I stopped and glanced back. Lyon was still in the tack room pretending to put things away. He always did that. I guess it was so he would have an excuse not to walk out with us. “What about him?”

“Forget him.” Felix scoffed and started climbing the stairs up to the Roost.

But I couldn’t forget him. He was supposed to be our third man, now. He was our partner in training. It was bad enough his old lackeys from last year had abandoned him. If we shunned him, he’d be alone. I knew what alone felt like.

“Lyon,” I called out to him.

He flinched, and looked over at me with wide eyes. His face was pasty white with fear, like he might suddenly bolt if I made a wrong move.

“We’re going out for a flight. You should come, too.”

Lyon stood there, motionless. He didn’t say anything. We stared at each other for a long time, and finally I decided he wasn’t going to answer me at all. I cleared my throat and took a step back toward the stairs.

“Well, if you change your mind, you should come find us,” I said. I left him in the tack room and ran up the stairs after Felix.

Mavrik growled and chirped with excitement when I came into his stall. He chattered and grumbled anxiously while I strapped on some of my new armor. I didn’t dress out fully since this was just a pleasure ride. I slipped the chestplate over my head and buckled it into place, then tightened the shiny vambraces and gauntlets over my arms. The palms of the gauntlets were coated in a thick layer of rubbery resin that made it easy to grip the saddle handles. I slipped the helmet over my head, tapping a finger on the long glass slit cut across the front so I could see without the wind blowing in my eyes.

I could tell this armor had been made with much more care and precision than the stuff I had worn last year. It fit snuggly, but it was so much lighter and more comfortable. It was made to fit me, and something about it felt right.

“Nice. It looks good,” Felix muttered from the doorway. He was dressed out in a few pieces of his own armor. His was different than mine, with a much sleeker style. The metal had been stained to look almost golden brown, and there was a crest of black horsehair on the top of his helmet.

I gave him a thumbs up. “Fits good, too.”

“Glad to hear it. I’ll take the lead, if you don’t mind.” He chuckled and waved before going back to his own stall.

I smirked at Mavrik. He eagerly crawled to the edge of his stall and looked out to the steep drop below. I could see his armored sides moving in and out with his excited breaths. His powerful hind legs were coiled, ready to leap into the sky. The setting sunlight shimmered over his blue scales.

“He can take the lead,” I muttered as I ran my hand over my dragon’s side. I could feel the power of his muscles underneath his thick hide. “But let’s see if he can keep it.”

As I climbed into the saddle and got myself buckled in, Mavrik let out a booming roar. He didn’t give me a second’s chance to prepare. When the last strap was in place, he dove headlong out of his stall and we went rocketing toward the ground. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nova and Felix doing the same thing. We spiraled down like two bolts of lightning, and at the last second, our dragons flared and caught the wind with their powerful wings.

We soared into the sky, sailing on the winds like two armored kites. I could barely make out the sound of Felix laughing as he urged Nova to go faster, taking the lead as we left the academy behind. I could see other riders flying in pairs or groups all around us. Some flew high, scraping the clouds like they wanted to get a glimpse of the stars. Others were doing low passes, or weaving dangerously close to the steep cliffs.