As You Wish (Book Lover 2) Page 13

  “Not keep coming? No, no, no. We need someone like you with battle experience and a dragon. Too many of the riders think familial connections are all that’s needed and too many of the grounders are angling for desk jobs. Let me have a look at your timetable. I need to see where I can fit in some extra training slots. The rest of you, back to work! You have to get a pass in this class if you want that degree.”

  “No way,” I said flatly, looking at the hand waiting for my timetable and shook my head. “I only need to pass this one.”

  “But Aravisia needs—.”

  “Aravisia can kiss my bloody arse,” I said. I tucked my hair behind my ear, showing Keel my weirdly rounded instead of pointed tips. “I’m not Aravisian, I’m here because I have to pass enough units to get honorary citizenship or they’ll take my dragon forcibly, so if you can let the VC know I’ve passed your practical exam, that’d be great.”

  I turned on my heel and marched out, which would’ve been a lot more impressive if I wasn’t still bundled up in armour and toting a wooden sword. By the time I was forced to retrace my steps, Keel was preoccupied with teaching the rest of his class, though I noticed his eyes straying over to me as he did so. When I was finally sans battle gear, I settled down in one of the couches and tried to put Vella’s notes back in order. I was still at it when class ended and the dragon riders appeared.

  14

  “What happened?” Vella said, holding up a piece of paper covered in footprints.

  “Someone pushed me down the stairs and then all the other someone’s walked past without helping,” I said, gritting my teeth.

  “This is bullshit. I’ll have a word—.” Alden said.

  “With who? Forgive me for pointing this out, but aren’t you all protected by big, powerful families? Like I’m guessing dukes and barons or chief officials.” I could see which had which by their changes in expression. “I don’t have family here, or anyone with influence for that matter.”

  “You have us,” Alden said. I looked around the group, wondering how the others felt about this. Vella frowned slightly, then placed a hand on my shoulder. Grey appeared a little bored, eyes going to a couple of cute girls that walked past and Rylen just stared out the front door, obviously having not heard any of the exchange. I had to say, I wasn’t entirely sold on these guys as a support network. “Why don’t you tell us how you got here and we’ll work our way forward from there?”

  So I did, over some quite nice coffee in the dining hall. I picked at a cake as I filled them in on Miazydar’s appearance and our adventure in Damorica, as well as a brief overview of his experiences living on the other side of the portal. The vomit stories got me a few laughs, but mostly they were preoccupied with the differences between our worlds, and that there were other worlds. I got the impression the Aravisian government liked to keep its people ignorant. That and the fact that Miazydar had effectively been brought into being by a spell. Grey shook his head, frowning, then looked up at me. “This is big, like really, really big.”

  “Yes, we realise—,” Alden said.

  “No, no, you don’t. We’ve been covering this in Advanced Econ, this place basically works on the supply and demand for dragons. Limited supply and a whole lot of power for those who have them. What you’re capable of, that magic, if you could find a way to use it on command you could change everything. The monopoly Aravisia has, the gap between dragon riders and merits.” He looked across the crowded dining hall at the other students. “You could change all of that.”

  A cold finger of panic slid up my spine as the four of them stared at me, waiting for a reaction. My eyes scanned the room without really seeing it, the mumble of hundreds of people talking drowned out now by the rapid boom of my heart. I saw the dragon riders waiting for some indication that this had already occurred to me and my response to it. “Fuck,” I rasped, my voice catching in my dry throat.

  I had made the wrong damn decision. Losing the Damorican portal would have sucked, but it had been the right call to make. I’d read plenty of fantasy books, in the simplistic ones the farm boy gained great power through extensive quests and then walked right into the now empty position of power to rule forever benignly, but that wasn’t most of them. Power structures in a society relied on a lot of people reinforcing them, supporting them. Any new power source was a threat to it, something to be extinguished. I was something to be extinguished.

  Miazydar appeared beside me with a pop, something I had no idea he could do. Neither did anyone else if the exclamations and pointing around the room were anything to go by.

  We’ve got to stop doing this, I said to Miazydar.

  Do what? Things that other dragons can’t? How am I to know what their beasts can and can’t do? Aravisia has changed completely from when I was here, as have the dragons. I tried to talk to a few of the lunks here about the situation, the university, even their riders and got little intelligent response. They did, however, speak at length about the veritable merits of different food animals.

  Yes, but when were you here, Miazydar? Three hundred years ago when the Rozenrrath’s were around? Or two thousand years ago when the Brigintinian Empire still existed?

  I watched his eyes shift as he considered the question, but I didn’t get to hear the answer. An older woman wearing a white lab coat approached me. “Ms McKinnon?” she said. I nodded. “I’m Professor Lane from the Science faculty. I need you to come with me and your dragon, of course. All students complete a physical before beginning their studies, something that should have been done before attending any of the Battle Techniques sessions.”

  “But I’ve got Introduction to Anatomy next.”

  She waved my question away. “That’s fine, I notified my colleague. Now, if you would come this way.”

  I looked back at the dragon riders, searching for some sort of indication of what was about to happen. “Rylen will find you before next class,” Alden said and they turned to head off to class.

  “So your dragon’s name is Miazydar?” the woman said. We were sitting in a glaringly bright room, every surface either a gleaming white or polished steel. The woman had written down some basic information about me: birthdate, home address (one wondered why) and height and weight.

  “You might direct the personal questions to me,” Miazydar said, shrinking down to dog size and then flying over to my shoulder to wrap his tail around my neck.

  “Yes, I’d been told you could speak. That’s very odd. Dragon anatomy has been my area of study while at the university. Dragons have vocal cords capable of only producing very basic sounds; growls, clicks, grunts and the like. The more sophisticated communication is done through psychic bonds and only between bonded dragons and their riders. Can your animal do this as well?”

  Quite well, thank you.

  I heard my dragon perfectly clearly, but from the professor’s jump, so did she.

  If you wish to conduct the conversation this way to ensure a more sophisticated discourse, I am amenable.

  How in all the gods...? What does this…? A paper, if I get sufficient audio-visual proof this could make my career. A promotion to the Department of Dragon Affairs. Knock out that officious pencil pusher, Blake. Or it could end me. Who would believe? Laughingstock, professional suicide...

  If you’re quite finished with your self-absorbed little anxiety spiral, it might be timely to let you know you’re still communicating with the two of us.

  Shit! Stop thinking, must stop thinking. That’s a thought, so is this! How do you stop this? Terrible invasion! Can it do this at any time? What the hell is Bhechro going to think? Gods, what if they find out about—.

  All of a sudden the cavalcade of thoughts came to an abrupt end. She hadn’t realised yet if the sweat pouring off her brow and wild eyes were anything to go by.

  What happened? I said. What are we not supposed to find out?

  Riders could always block out our intrusions, I guess it stands to reason that a natural talent for that persists in t
he Aravisians. Her mind sensed a threat and is automatically shielding.

  We let the woman know this and slowly the tense hunch of her shoulders softened. She watched us closely, obviously thinking something quite offensive when a small smile formed on her face and we didn’t react. “Fascinating,” she said finally, writing down voluble notes on her scroll of paper. “I need to let you know, the Aravisian government has authorised a battery of tests. You’ll be required to attend regular sessions here to investigate the differences between you and the Aravisian dragons.”

  “What kinds of tests?” I said with a frown.

  “They’re mostly non-invasive. Nothing to be concerned about. Now, I need to draw some blood from both of you,” Professor Lane said.

  “No,” Miazydar said, his wings fluttering.

  “This has been approved by the Minister himself.”

  “No!” Miazydar said. He moved restlessly on my shoulders as the woman got to her feet, reaching for him. I jerked back, but I needn’t have bothered. He grew in size rapidly, so much we were both forced to opposite ends of the room. “You may live in a world where dragons are little more than scaled, clawed cattle, happy to be herded from pillar to post, kept in an infantile state as a government-sanctioned means to own beings who have been known throughout history as knowledgeable, wise, learned creatures, but I am no such thing. No matter what that piece of paper or any other says, you have no right to my body, to do anything to me other than that which I permit. Are we clear?”

  I was pretty sure he was. A thin stream of saliva dripped from his now cavernous mouth, his sabre-like teeth right in the woman’s face. She just nodded and then Miazydar shrunk down to his cat-sized form, returning to my side. She swallowed and then smoothed her hair. I noticed her hand shaking as she wrote some more notes, underlining some words several times. Made me wish I read Aravisian.

  “So can I assume you’re refusing the blood tests as well?” she asked me, trying for hard arse but sounding more like someone who’d survived a near miss.

  “No, you can take some samples if you’re happy to explain what you need them for.”

  Apparently, it was all to try and ascertain the difference between humans and Aravisians. None of the other races across the whole continent, humanoid or other, had been able to successfully bond with dragons in the same way as the Aravisians. The fact I had was of great interest. There was also some spiel about dragons being protected in Aravisia as in other countries they had been historically seen as pests that threatened settlements and herds of meat animals. Miazydar watched the woman with an eagle eye while she took the vials of blood. “Well, it’s nearly time for your next class, so perhaps we should stop things here. I need to talk to Vice-Chancellor Bhechro about some of my initial findings and alert him to your dragon’s resistance to testing.” The reproof was muted, but definitely there. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Rylen met me outside, barely glancing at me before pointing down the hall. “This way to Introduction to Dragon Husbandry.”

  “Look, I appreciate you guys showing me around, but you really don’t have to. I can ask people where rooms are.”

  He snorted at that. “They’re just as likely to send you round to the meat beast sheds. Look, Alden’s got the whole noblesse oblige thing happening and it’s got to be directed at someone or something, so it may as well be you.”

  Not for the first time did I wonder how the translator spell, Babelfish or whatever, that my Nan had cast on us, worked. What were the Aravisian words for noblesse oblige? And why did it seem to also work on Jez and Flea?

  “So, is he part of the royal family?”

  Rylen finally looked at me, his smile the first genuine expression I’d seen on him so far. He shook his head. “If I had any doubts that you were an outsider, I don’t now. He’s low down the distaff line, some kind of third or fourth cousin to the current Queen, but he gets a dragon automatically, a place here despite his shitty grades. Not much point him going to class anyway, gets in the way of his main purpose; putting a classy, good-looking face on the young nobility. Hot enough to want to fuck, well-bred enough that you know you’re not going to get to.”

  “Are we talking about me or you here?” I said.

  His smile twisted. “Not falling for that lord of the manor act? Guess not if you killed the Prince of Damorica. Here’s Alden looking out for you, but perhaps it should be us protecting him from the regicide?”

  “As long as he doesn’t try raping my sister or serving either of us for dinner, he’s safe. Either of those things happen, all bets are off.”

  Or harm to you, Miazydar said, hissing at a bemused Rylen.

  “Well, here we are, ready to learn about caring for our magnificent beasts?”

  It was a much smaller class, though I was surprised to see quite a few merit students attended, including Scalla. She waved energetically from the back row so I headed towards her. “Really? She’s like an overly caffeinated miffle,” Rylen said, but he tagged along, sprawling in the seat on the other side of me.

  “What’s a miffle?” I whispered as we sat.

  Scalla looked a little confused. “Um...they’re little and furry and oh so—.”

  Delicious, Miazydar finished for her.

  “Right class, today we are looking at the feeding of dragons, how to keep them happy, in good condition and how to cater to the needs of different breeds.”

  Professor Hand was a big strapping woman who looked like she could help cows calve all night, then turn around and castrate steers all day. Her lecture was one of the more interesting ones. She talked about an increased need for iron, zinc and calcium in the diet of spiketails. A disturbing looking beast, it had a similar body to M’s, but its longer tail ended in a thick array of spikes which it could raise above its head, much like a scorpion, sending out clusters of knife-sharp spines as long as my forearm at will.

  “Now, there’s no point lolling around in class looking at the pictures as we have Lord Alden’s own beast here. Come on, quick sticks! Down to the eyrie to take a look at the real thing.” Rylen just sighed and rolled out of class, cool as a cucumber, but Scalla was nearly jumping out of her skin.

  “I love practical lessons,” she said by way of explanation, hugging herself in excitement. “We so rarely get to see the dragons close up.”

  “Do you want Miazydar to ride on your shoulder?”

  Are you OK with that? I said.

  Better to ask forgiveness than permission? She seems harmless enough and allies are useful, no matter how gormless.

  Be nice.

  If she keeps her hands to herself, she’ll have no complaint from me.

  “Gods above, really?” Her big brown eyes went even wider, getting suspiciously shiny as I handed him over. “Does Mizzy, I’m sorry, he hated that, didn’t he? Does Miazydar like being scratched under the chin?”

  “I’m not a dog,” M said, jerking his head back with a sniff. “Though a rub behind the sockets is quite pleasurable. Watch those great clumsy digits! In this form you’re just as likely to take my eye out!”

  Alden waited for us in the big open area in front of the eyries. “Milord, your dragon, if you please,” Professor Hand said. We all jumped back as the massive dragon landed in the space between Alden and us. He was bright emerald green with a faint mottling of olive across his scales.

  “Taz, when you’re ready?” Alden said and Tazalith raised his tail above his head so we could see very clearly the cluster of spikes on his tail.

  Showy and a waste of resources, Miazydar said with a sniff.

  I wasn’t sure if I agreed. Hand passed around several spines, drawing our attention to the different patterning (linked to various breeds), cautioning us on our handling of them (they had small barbs along the length as well as needlepoint sharp ends) and the way that poor nutrition and care could be seen within the keratin of the barb.

  “Those yellowish bands were once seen as desirable several hundred years ago,” Hand said. “Some f
ool neglected to round out his beasts diet and showed up to a court event with them and it came to be all the rage. Always remember, your duty is to do your best by your beast, not by whichever stupid clique you become part of. Good spiketail breeding stock became hard to come by for several generations due to those idiots and dragons died. Whether you are a dragon rider or simply a groom, it is always of utmost importance that you provide prey for the animal that meets their nutritional needs. Dragons were free-roaming omnivorous creatures before they settled in Aravisia, able to feed on a wide variety of sources. We must replicate that in our care for them.”

  Shit, I thought, there're some weeks when we just ate chicken nuggets and sweet and sour sauce every day.

  Mm, they were quite delicious too. What this well-meaning woman doesn’t realise is that before dragons were ruthlessly domesticated to the point of being barely able to form conscious thoughts, we could sense what foods we need to counter any possible nutritional deficiencies. That the Aravisians could coerce a dragon to tolerate the miasma that a deficiency causes to flatter their rider’s aesthetic sensibilities beggars belief. I will come and read these ‘history’ textbooks they have provided you tonight. I have no doubt they are hopelessly compromised but as an insight into what they believe they are doing, they will be invaluable.

  Professor Hand then introduced us to the various herd beasts and their nutritional benefits. Tau were big, bulky creatures, a bit like cows with no horns, and their ears were more like a donkey’s. Apparently good for iron deficiencies due to their very red meat. Zaan were lean and wiry, a bit like an antelope. Must have been what M ate the other day at the Stone Circle. Full of zinc and calcium because they ate just about everything like a goat and their bones were thin enough to crunch down and digest. Lex looked kind of like an emu or ostrich but had massive meaty thighs that Miazydar said were quite the delicacy.

  Hand had Alden show us how to talk a dragon through a hunt, using the bond to mentally fight his animal when his blood was up, stopping him from glutting himself on just one kind of animal, forcing it to abandon its hunt and onto another kind of animal. It was a cacophony of blood, guts, shit and screams, but Alden obviously had his dragon in hand. The big tail came up when he approached the dragon feeding, the spines separating, ready to be flung at him, but Alden’s eyes just bore into the dragon’s and Tazalith retreated, taking down a Lex in the next moment.