Fledgling (The Dragonrider Chronicles) (7 page)

           
Felix
seemed to be able to tell that I wasn’t buying it. He just kept grinning as he
lay back down onto his bed, putting his hands behind his head, and chuckling
under his breath. “Write a letter to your little sweetheart, and you’ll see
that I’m right.”

seven

The
days all started to blur together. We started every morning the same way. We
were up before the call to arms, on our feet, and flying drill patterns with
Sile
. Then we were running laps, and studying our maps. I
wish I could say that the longer I kept up that routine, the easier it got. But
that wasn’t the case. Being in
Sile’s
saddle still
made me airsick. The way his dragon flew felt so chaotic to me. Things always
started out all right, and then before I knew it, the ground was swirling in my
vision and I was back on my hands and knees throwing up. Running was still
difficult. Felix kept after me, though, and wouldn’t let me fall behind too
far. Studying came easier once
Sile
showed us a
strategy of dividing the map up into quadrants to memorize in smaller chunks.

One night Felix caught me trying to
write a letter to
Katty
. After some teasing, he
actually helped me with it. My spelling was horrible, or so he said, and he
started showing me the mistakes and format for writing a letter. He told me
he’d had tutors and scholars teaching him all his life. Actually, he was a
pretty good teacher himself.

We kept up that schedule right up
until our gear and armor was finally finished. It was the day before training
was supposed to start, and
Sile
told us to meet him
at the
smithing
armory first. A different blacksmith
had made Felix’s armor, so we weren’t together when we got fitted.

I stood on the dressing block while
the old blacksmith from before put the different pieces of armor on me over the
layer of black thermals I’d been given.
Sile
stood
by, watching, and making comments about the fit being too loose.

“Not my fault,” the blacksmith rasped
in his raspy voice. “It’s like dressing a scarecrow.”

The chestplate fit against the top
part of my torso, and it was as simple as the light colored steel it was made
of. It didn’t have any of the ornate designs and engravings I’d seen on
Sile’s
armor before. In fact, none of my armor did. It even
felt like I was missing some pieces. I only had the chestplate, gauntlets,
vambraces
,
greaves
on my legs, and
a helmet. They were all very plain, and felt clunky when I moved.

The helmet was the most interesting to
me. It had one long slit across the front where my eyes were so I could see,
and there was a thin pane of cut clear glass fitted into it. It was like a
miniature window built into the helmet.

“So the wind doesn’t mess with your
vision,”
Sile
explained when he saw me looking at it.

“Are there pieces missing?” I finally
had the nerve to ask.

Sile
shook his head, taking the helmet
from me to look it over before he crammed it back down on top of my head again.
“For now, this is all you need. You’re just a fledgling, so there’s no need for
full battle dress. Don’t worry, no one else will have a full set of armor yet,
either.”

“Oh,” I answered. My voice echoed
inside the steel helmet.

“Besides, I’m hoping puberty remembers
you at some point in the next year. Then we’ll have to order a whole new set to
be made,” he added.

He wasn’t the only one hoping that. I
wasn’t even worried so much about getting taller anymore, even though that
would have certainly helped. Now, I just wished for a little more muscle mass.
Anything at all, even a pound, would have made me look less like a joke.

On our way out of the armory, I caught
a glimpse of a familiar face out of the corner of my eye. There were a lot of
blacksmiths working with riders, and I hadn’t even thought about the fact that
Mr. Crookin would be there until I saw him talking with an older student.
Without thinking, I broke away from
Sile
and bolted
toward him. I didn’t have
Katty’s
letter with me, but
now I had the perfect way to make sure it got to her.

“Mr. Crookin!” I called out to him, my
voice still echoing under my helmet.

He looked down at me, seeming confused
by the sight of me until I took the helmet off. Then his eyes got wide, and he
put down the hammer he’d been using. “What are you doing, boy? Does Ulric know
where you are?”

“Not exactly.” I gave him a strained
smile. It was a lot to explain. “I’m staying here. I’m going to be a
dragonrider.”

His eyebrows shot up, and then
furrowed down like two bushy storm clouds over his eyes. He glared at me like
he was silently accusing me of lying, but one look over my armor was testament
that either I was telling the truth, or someone was funding a very elaborate
hoax. He just shook his head, and there was a look of restrained sympathy on
his face, then. “Jaevid, I don’t think you understand what you’re getting
yourself into.”

I didn’t really. But I wasn’t ready to
admit that just yet. “I wrote a letter to
Katty
.
Would you please take it to her when you go back home? I never got to tell her
what happened, or where I went. I didn’t get a chance to tell her goodbye, and
I don’t want her to think I’m dead.”

He eyed me again, seeming skeptical,
but finally rolled his eyes and nodded. “Put it in my saddle bag before I go.
She’ll find it.”

I smiled and thanked him, preparing to
go back to where
Sile
was waiting, watching me with
his arms crossed in disapproval.

As I turned to go, Mr. Crookin barked
out another word. “Jaevid.”

I stopped and glanced back.

Mr.
Crookin’s
eyes flicked past me, seeing
Sile
standing there
waiting. When he looked back at me, it was like I was as good as dead. “Watch
yourself. No need for anyone else to die.”

His warning left a lump in my throat,
and I clunked back to stand beside
Sile
again without
answering. He was frowning at me like he was waiting for an explanation. “A
family friend,” I told him as vaguely as I knew how.

Sile
didn’t ask anything about it. He just
grabbed my shoulder to keep me from running off again, and steered me directly
toward the second armory building. I had a new saddle waiting for me there.

Getting Mavrik into the saddle was a
spectacle. We even had an audience. A few other riders and students started to
gather around to watch me trying to put a saddle on my wild dragon.

It wasn’t a very big saddle, because I
wasn’t a very big person, and I could carry it fairly easily. But when Mavrik
saw it, he hissed at me where he was crouched on his belly. He made angry
chattering noises, swishing his long tail, and tracking my movements with his
bright yellow eyes as I lugged the saddle over toward him.

“Come on, it’s not that bad.” I
grumbled.

He snorted, sending a blast of hot air
into my face. A few of the spectators laughed.

“I don’t like it any more than you do.
Let’s just get it over with.” I slung the saddle over my shoulder, lifting it
up as high as I could to sling it over his neck. Mavrik growled lowly, snorted
again, and narrowed his eyes angrily.

Sile
stepped in to help me get the hard,
shaped bottom of the saddle fitted onto the grooves and horns of
Mavrik’s
back. It fit like a glove, and he quickly walked
me through a blurred lesson in strapping the saddle into place. A pair of very
thick leather belts went around his neck and under his wing arms. Lesser straps
stabilized it, running under his belly to keep the saddle from sliding around.

Once we’d finished,
Sile
pulled me back quickly as Mavrik rose up and shook
himself. The saddle stayed put, fixed to his back between his neck and wing
arms. He snarled at it, twisting around like he didn’t approve, and finally
cutting an accusing glare right at me.

I threw my hands up in surrender.
“It’s not my fault! I can’t just cling to you and hope you don’t drop me.”

The dragon licked his chops, and
slicked his ears back like an angry cat as he hunkered down again.

“Time for a test drive.”
Sile
was smirking from ear to ear.

My stomach fell, and as he helped me
up into the saddle, I was already feeling sick. He showed me how to fit my legs
down into the pair of deep, boot-like sheaths crafted into the sides of the
saddle. They came up to my knees, and were so snug it was like wearing a second
pair of extra tall boots.

“How’s the fit? Can you move your
feet?”
Sile
asked.

I shook my head. “No, not much.”

“Good.” He started rattling off
instructions, making me queasy as I tried not to think about what I was about
to do. “This is primarily what anchors you into the saddle. Here, you see these
handles are like the ones on my saddle. During take off and high-intensity
maneuvers, you’re going to have to lean into his speed and hold on. The
gauntlets you’re wearing are meant to help you keep a grip. That’s why the
palms are coated with resin. Don’t fight against his speed. Move with it. If
you resist, you’re going to get slung all over the place. It’s like any
relationship, if you go into it unwilling to move and think as one, it can only
end in disaster.”

“How do I steer?” I was beginning to
panic. I could tell my brief lesson in the basics of flying was almost over.
Mavrik was beginning to shift around anxiously again.

Sile
grabbed my hand, showing me how to
grip the polished bone handles. They were positioned on what looked like
a circular pieces
of metal, about the size of a dinner
plate, built into the sides of the saddle. I’d assumed they were just to keep
the handle from coming unstitched, but
Sile
twisted
my hand and showed me that the round metal pieces actually rotated if you
pushed hard enough.

“Left and right.” he told me in a
hurried voice. “When you twist them, it puts a small amount of pressure against
his side. He can feel it, and knows which way you want him to go. You’ll have
to work with him to get used to it. Remember, he’s never flown with anyone,
either. You have to teach each other. You’ll come up with your own signals and
body language to communicate in the air.”

I was about to ask how to tell him to
land, but
Sile
was gone in a flash. He jogged
backwards away from us as Mavrik began to stand, making me bob around in the
saddle as I gripped the handles for dear life. I squinted my eyes shut,
clinging with all my might as I felt the dragon shake himself again. He was
still writhing around, snarling about the strange feeling of the saddle on his
back. All I could do was hang on and pray he wasn’t going to kill me.

Right away, the feel of
Mavrik’s
flight was completely different from anything I’d
experienced with
Sile
. When he leapt into the sky, I
could feel the force and power of his body working around me as he pumped his
wings. I heard him roar, felt his sides swelling and shrinking against my legs
as he breathed, and watched the earth fall away. The crowd of spectators became
like little dark spots far below.

           
When
Mavrik took off, it wasn’t chaos. I didn’t feel like I was going to get flung
off his back. I felt anchored, and almost as though I was a part of him. It
felt right, and it gave me such a rush of excitement that I couldn’t help but
scream out. He stretched his wings wide, leveling off and letting out another
belting cry of his own. He flicked a look back at me, as though making sure I
was still attached to him. I was grinning like an idiot, laughing as I held on
for dear life.

           
Suddenly
there was another trumpeting roar directly to my right. It was so loud, and
seemingly out of nowhere, that it startled me. I looked over, and couldn’t
believe it. Felix and Nova were flying upside down right next to me, so close I
could have reached out and grabbed his helmet if I wanted. He waved at me. I
could hear him laughing, too, even over the rush of the wind.

           
Just
as quickly as he’d appeared, I watched him dive away. Nova spun into a tight
roll, swirling down toward the ground. Before I could think about the intensity
of a move like that . . . Mavrik decided to take up the chase. He snapped his
wings in tight against his sides, and immediately we plummeted downward. I
screamed because there was nothing else I could do other than hang on.

           
We
chased Nova like two eagles playing tag, darting through the sky. We did dives,
we rolled, we flew up until we breached the clouds and saw nothing but endless
sky above.

Nova really was a big female. She was
way bigger than Mavrik, with golden and brown markings on her scales like a
jungle snake. She was bigger, but Mavrik was faster. When he switched on the
speed, there was no catching us, and we dove through the clouds like a charge
of blue lightning.

It was indescribable, and right away I
knew it was the greatest rush I’d ever experience. I also knew I’d never get
enough of it. If being a dragonrider meant I got to do this every day, I’d jog
as many laps and memorize as many maps as I had to. I wasn’t going to give this
up—not ever.