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Authors: Jeffrey Johnson

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“Anything I happen to pick up?”

“Yeah,” said Haskel evenly, “you know anything you might overhear in the Hall, or at the boarding facility.” This time, she gave him a knowing gesture with her head. Signifying that she understood what he was getting at.

“You want to know what’s going on in the locker room,” said Areli.

“Precisely,” said Haskel, “and for every story, every ounce of information. You’ll be rewarded.” Areli crossed her arms and stared hard into the blue eyes of Haskel’s.

“May I ask, why me? Why not any of the other new recruits, or even one of the returning ones?”

“Because they weren’t our first choice,” said Haskel, his coolness not hiding anything, “we wanted to extend the offer to you initially. This is a great opportunity, Areli. And we thought you deserved to be asked first.” Areli was smarter than that. She could easily see girls falling for the young royals words. How he would pleasure them, or pleasure himself, and then leave them like his uncle to rot in shame.

“This isn’t because my family doesn’t own a ship yard, or a port, or a half-dozen mines?” asked Areli, who was already having such a tumultuous day. The last thing she wanted to deal with is two spoiled teens that think they could buy her.

“No,” said Haskel in a smooth and gentle tone, “I didn’t see it that way at all. I saw it as you being a young girl, in a new city, amongst new people, and I thought merely to give you importance . . . beyond just riding for the Emperor.” Areli fought with herself to keep from laughing. Haskel with his seductive and venomous words, like a harp played above a trap.

“I’m sorry,” said Areli sternly, “I can’t help you.”

“Maybe this would make you reconsider,” said Haskel, who then turned toward his cousin and a bag that the royal-blood had next to her. She handed it to him. And he set it on the table, untied it, and opened it for Areli to look inside. It was nothing but gold coins, diamonds placed all around the edges, and Emperor Abhiraja in the center. Areli’s heart felt like it had expanded in her chest, completely crushing her left lung. Just one of those coins equaled a month’s pay for a professional rider, and Haskel must be holding a bag large enough for about four years pay.

“This can all be yours,” said Haskel, “with more to come. This is just a button on a jacket to the treasures that await you. If you agree to join us, we’ll make you wealthier than you’ll ever be as a rider on the professional team.” Haskel let her look for a moment longer, until he closed the bag. “Or you can take your chances at winning the World Race. The choice is yours.” Areli’s heart seemed like something was stabbing into it. She let the adrenaline brew in her veins while she closed her eyes.

“You make a wonderful offer,” said Areli, re-opening her eyes, “but – your money is just money. You can’t save my dragon if I don’t win the World Race.”

“But you have four years in which to do it.”

“The world
may not
be here in four years,” said Areli, “your uncle is tearing it apart!”

“All the more reason to accept our offer.” Areli looked at him and his pleading eyes. Those blue eyes, which were impervious to ‘no,’ rounding on defeat.

“I’m sorry,” said Areli, “I can’t. I just can’t.”

“This opportunity will not be offered again,” said Haskel, “you mentioned it yourself, the world is on the edge of complete devastation. You should cash in while you’re still alive.”

“If the world is indeed to go under,” said Areli, “then I at least want to have lived my life the way I wanted it. This is why I cannot agree to your offer.” Haskel’s eyes relinquished their footing. He had lost, his grip diminished. He looked to his cousin, re-tied the sack of coins, and then rolled them from one hand to the other.

“We should go then,” said Haskel, “we’re sorry, Areli, to have wasted your time.” Areli’s initial pity for him turned to sharp anger. She feels for those who take defeat, but not to those that are sour about it, especially at her. Didn’t he understand? She wanted no other reasons for her teammates to hate her even more than they already do. And quite frankly, she didn’t trust Haskel
or
his cousin. Boarding facilities are private places. Closed doors. Why would she want to deal with the stress of spying? It would hurt her runs. And if she were to be named a spy . . . she would be dismissed from the team.

The royals both stood up to walk out. Areli did so as well. Even though she didn’t respect either as individuals, she had to respect their position. Haskel brushed past her, not giving Areli a second thought, as if she was a nobody that he happened to pass in the street. But Sofi was slower to pass. She stopped in front of Areli and stared hard into her eyes. They were blue like Haskel's, except hers were like the blue water from the mountain waterfalls.

“My cousin,” said Sofi, “he means well. You are the first person I have seen hurt him.” She looked over at him as he waited for her by the door and then turned back to Areli. “I love him. I love him dearly. So, I hope you’re happy with your decision. Because I
promise you
, with every bone in my body, you’re going to wish you would have taken the gold. Who knows . . . maybe I can convince my uncle that you’re a follower of Degendhard.” She turned away, elegantly, and took her cousins arm as if she was nothing but innocence.

Areli fell into her seat when they left. She contemplated her actions and tears came into her eyes. She knew what happened to followers of Degendhard. The Emperor made sure of that.

Her mother and Aria were all smiles when they walked back into the room. But they were quickly running towards Areli, who could not contain her anger anymore. Angry at life. At the Emperor. At his corrupt niece and nephew. And even at Degendhard the Great.

As Areli lay in bed, her father on her right, her mother on her left, and Aria only a scream and a holler away, she counted the things that she had destroyed in the living room. She had broken two vases, shattered a window, broke the leg of a chair, and smashed a lamp, spilling oil all over her mother’s new rug. Surely she would have gone to bed with no dinner if her mother didn’t make her explain to both her and Areli’s father as to what compelled such an outrage.

Her parents were understanding. Although, her mother still wished Areli wouldn’t have taken it out on the lamp. However, Areli knew her mother’s concern wasn’t with the lamp but with the resulted consequence that ensued when the oil container busted on the floor. Aria told Areli’s mother that they could go back into town the following day to replace the damaged rug. Areli wished there was something to buy at the market that would repair the damage she had done by refusing Haskel’s gold, and hopefully, a new chorus partner as well.

Chapter Thirteen

The first out-of-school assignment came during the second day of school. Start practicing the song assigned to you . . . with your
new
chorus partner. During fourth period, Areli was fidgety. She didn’t want to look her partner in the eyes. She still couldn’t believe that Professor Kaydence could do this to her.

Throughout the rest of the day, Areli also tried to avoid anywhere she suspected Haskel and Sofi would be. Another situation she couldn’t believe she was in. It was her second day at Abhi Hall, and she’s already made enemies with the most powerful students there.

When Areli went to her locker at the end of classes, she saw that Sofi had already struck. She dearly hoped that this was the extent of the threat she gave the other day. Areli picked up her schoolbag and ran her fingers along the harsh slash marks that covered it. She felt resentment as heavy as the largest foreign animal as she examined the bag her mother recently bought her. It was nearly indistinguishable. Sofi had left the leather straps, which Areli thought was kind of her, but everything else looked as if mauled by some long clawed animal.

Areli used practice as her escape. Her moments with Kaia and Aubrie were the only times she found peace.

“Why can’t life just be this?” asked Areli sitting next to Aubrie. Her dragon lying next to them, while all three were looking across the sand at the large columns jutting from the surface.

“It can be,” said Aubrie, “if you win the World Race.”

“Yeah, but . . . you can’t fly forever . . . at least not in this world.” Aubrie looked at her.

“You know what I do,” said Aubrie, “I find a really quiet place. Someplace just for me. And I close my eyes. I picture the look of the sky, the push of the air, the smell of freedom, and I soar. Me and my dragon, we still soar.” She held Areli’s gaze, and pointed to her head. “With this Areli, you can always fly. You can go anywhere.” Areli smiled at her. And they went back to looking out across the sand.

After practice, Aubrie wished Areli good luck with the whole partner thing and all, reminding her that it probably wouldn’t be all that bad.

“Just keep an open heart,” said Aubrie, “who knows, you just might enjoy her company.” Areli gave her a face and then pretended to be puking, causing Aubrie to laugh and then shake her head. The bath and spa seemed like it came and went with the swiftness of a light wind. Areli was trying desperately to take up as much time as she possibly could, but riders were to exit the facility together. This diminished any chance of staying in the facility longer, unless she wanted to endure the whining of her teammates.

As the carriages drove through the city streets, Areli wished she didn’t invite her partner to her house. But she didn’t want to have to suffer through the latter, no matter how curious she was. As her driver pulled into her drive, she knew that her partner’s carriage was already there. Areli got out and looked at the person standing there. Her hawk face, dark, blonde hair, and perfectly tanned skin. She was beautiful, but Areli would never bring herself to admit it.

Her mother came out of the door with nothing but smiles. She hugged Areli, and then awaited an introduction.

“Mother this is Fidelja Bird,” said Areli, “Fidelja, this is my mother, Arina.” The two gently shook hands. “And this is our estate manager, Aria.” When they entered into the foyer, Aria asked where it was Areli planned for them to practice their song. The most preferable place was the living room, but after yesterday, and with the newly acquired furniture, Areli knew both Aria and her mother would both hesitate for her to go in there, which didn’t matter to her. She wished not to go into that room for a while anyway. So, the only real option . . . was unfortunately, her bedroom.

“Areli, dear,” said her mother, “I know you girls had a long day at practice. So, I had the chefs prepare for you and Fidelja a meal.” Areli could feel her jaw clamp together as she stared holes into her mother’s face.

“It’s more like a snack,” said her mother, trying to keep Areli’s anger at bay. Areli couldn’t believe her mother was doing this to her. This was her biggest competition . . . and they were about to feed her. What they should be doing is sneaking her little slices of apples and leave Fidelja to starve, allowing Areli to relish in Fidelja’s hunger pangs.


Fine
,” said Areli to break the silence, “whatever.” Her mother almost couldn’t control her excitement. When she was enthusiastic, she had a tendency to clap her hands together in rapid succession and then hold them to her lips. Her mother got in one clap, as the rest was halted by the sting in Areli’s stare.

Her mother refocused and brought the girls into the dining room. And just as Areli had expected, it was not a snack . . . but a feast. They had everything imaginable on the table. There was a platter of steaks, chicken wings, and every assortment of potatoes cooked in every which way. Every color of fruit and vegetable, a whole turkey, and a rack of ribs. Nothing in the pantry was left untouched, uncooked, or un-served.

“I didn’t know exactly what to cook,” said her mother, “so I just asked the chefs to cook a bit of everything.” Servants opened chairs for them. Areli was seated at her usual corner spot, and Fidelja was placed at her side. Areli refused to hide her disgust. She wished she could have asked the servants to situate Fidelja at the other end of the table. That way she could have at least eaten in peace.

The dining servants laid silk cloths in their laps and waited to hear what they wanted to eat. Areli looked at Fides, who conceded for Areli to choose first. Areli looked across the table, which was packed with foods that she only normally allowed herself to eat during the first month that followed the final race of the season. It was the worst kind of torture. She couldn’t believe her mother. Making dinner for the enemy. And then tormenting her with tantalizing dishes that she couldn’t eat. She wanted to scream.

“I’ll just have an apple,” said Areli to her dining servant, “one of the green ones, and maybe a carrot.” The servant grabbed her plate, placed the things she requested on it, and then splayed it out in front of her. Areli then looked at Fidelja, expecting her to pick much of the same.

She watched as Fidelja, looked about the table, her eyes lighting up at a particular dish, and then moving around to another.

“Um . . . can I have the lamb, two chicken wings, a portion of steak, and what are those?”

“Those are garlic mashed potatoes, miss,” said the servant, “with a coat of fresh herbs.” To Areli’s surprise she asked for a scoop of that, followed by servings of nearly everything on the table. The servant actually had to use more than one plate to gather it all.

Areli stared at Fidelja as she started to cut her steak, which was a perfect red. Areli then looked at her apple and then her carrot. She picked up the round green thing that fit perfectly in her hand and let it roll around in her fingers. She was about to take a bite, when Fidelja’s expression distracted her. It was one of delight. Fidelja seemed to be making out with the bit of steak that both repulsed Areli, but also made her envious. Fidelja went to cut off another bite.

Areli cleared her throat. Her expression that of annoyance and exhaustion. Fidelja relaxed her shoulders and looked at her.

“Don’t you watch your weight during season?” asked Areli. Fidelja looked at her and blinked.

“I normally don’t get to eat foods like this,” said Fidelja, “at least not in my own household.”

“Well, can you at least not make such a scene about it,” said Areli with a scowl, taking a bite out of her apple and then looking the other way, unaware that she was crossing her arms.

“I’m sorry,” said Fidelja, “I didn’t know I was making a scene.”

“Well,” said Areli, staring at her, hard, “you were.” Areli tried not to regret her words. Why was she feeling bad? Why was there a sliver of pity tainting the anger in her heart? She had to turn away.
Look away, Areli
, she told herself.

“I’m sorry . . . Areli,” said Fidelja, softly.
Why?
thought Areli, almost wanting to cry,
why does she have to be nice? Can’t she hate like I hate?
It would be so much simpler if Fidelja loathed her, disrespected her, wanted nothing to do with her. But her demeanor said otherwise.

“You don’t have to apologize,” said Areli, now bent on making Fidelja understand the wrongness of the situation, “you should be mad. You should hate me to your very core. I mean we share the same trainer. And she picked me – ME – over you. Aren’t you at all uncomfortable? Aren’t you jealous? Don’t you just want to rip my eyes out or something?” Fidelja looked at her, just looked.

“No . . . no not really.”

“Then what?” asked Areli exasperated, “do you want?”

“I want to get a good grade in chorus.” Areli didn’t know how to respond. Was she supposed to be angry, frustrated, or ashamed?

“Listen – Areli,” said Fidelja in a gentle voice, “you don’t have to tell me this is unconventional, or even uncomfortable, or slightly weird. But it is what it is. We can both sit here and tear each other’s heads off, or we can act like two girls who simply have to sing a song together.” Areli looked at her . . . and the ashamed option started to kick in. She held her arms close to her body, as if trying to comfort herself. She felt empty, bruised. How could she seem so childish?

Fidelja wouldn’t look away from her. Areli wished she had. Didn’t she already do enough damage? Areli knew she had to apologize, but she had never had to apologize before to anyone, except her parents. Her stomach turned to knots. She had to rush her hands across her face as tears started to come from her eyes. She couldn’t stand being near this person, but now it was not out of hate for Fidelja, but out of shame of herself. Areli’s face was red, nose sniffling, and tears flowing from her eyes. Fidelja placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and Areli didn’t brush it away.

As the weeks passed, Areli and Fidelja became inseparable. After classes and practices, they would spend every evening together. They would spend time at Areli’s house and at Fidelja’s enormous house, which was almost as beautiful as the houses across the lake. Fidelja and Areli would do homework together at Fidelja’s favorite restaurants, like The Dragon Hold, The Abhi Grill, and Flame. The owners of each would let them eat for free as they knew Fidelja’s father, who was the Emperor’s Treasurer.

Areli thought it uncomfortable at first, as people around them gawked at them, knowing them to be riders, and the nature of their sport didn’t usually lead to friendships. But as time passed, so did the stares, as it was accepted that where there was one, there was the other.

Areli didn’t think she could be happier. It was liberating to have a friend on the team. Someone to talk about flying with, who had similar experiences as her, as well as some of the same fears. It was also beneficial that they liked a lot of the same things. On Friday’s and Saturday’s they would go off to the markets and fashion streets and shop well into the depths of night. Quickly, Areli felt like she could tell Fidelja anything. Fidelja was the first person from Abhi to ask her about the world beyond the mountains. Areli didn’t want to answer her question. It surprised her it was even asked. It was something she had dealt with alone, every night when she went to bed. Her sleep plagued with nightmares of burning flesh and homes, screams of woman and children, and the sight of smoke and destruction. And if those didn’t haunt her, the woman she killed did. Her father had to heavily medicate her just so she could fall asleep.

“What
about
Degendhard?” asked Fidelja, “is he everything the papers make him out to be? Some sick pervert that murders woman and children.” At first, Areli didn’t know how to answer this. “Come on, Areli. Tell me. And it better be the truth. You know me well enough by now to know I won’t tell anyone.” Areli chewed on the inside of her lower lip, and then shook her head. “You’re kidding!”

“No. I’m not, Fidelja,” said Areli, “the papers are controlled by the Empire. It only makes sense to disgrace and blemish his name.”

After a month passed, Fidelja became comfortable telling Areli she could call her Fides.

“Fides, my confides,” Areli rhymed, when she told her. Areli wished there was something Fides could call her, but her name didn’t gave way to any shorter ones. At least not to any she liked.

“Areli . . . do you, um . . . do you ever think about boys?” asked Fides after they finished a long discussion about the latest fashions available in the boutiques while lying on Areli’s bed.
There was a boy
, Areli thought . . . but he didn’t love her. He couldn’t love her. She knew he was a coward. Areli thought it for the best, maybe Talon knew they could never truly be together. She hated him for not trying. For not even considering it. She hated him ever since their last conversation. But she also realized. Especially, with Yats looking at her the way that he did. She still harbored deep feelings for Talon. Maybe Talon was sparing her from heartache down the road. Why couldn’t she stop
thinking
about him? Why couldn’t she let him go? She wished her answer to Fides question could truthfully be no. But Talon was still there. He had somehow buried his way into her heart. No matter if he was the one who broke it.

She wished she could look Fides in the eyes and not tell her that she was sometimes kept awake at night thinking of a particular set of blue eyes and black hair. There was another boy though, Yats, but he was too obnoxious for her, too immature. But it was Fides, and one thing Areli had promised her was complete and utter honesty.

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