Nobody calls foogits little dragons except in folk tales. Eled had to have been being sarcastic, but I couldn’t hear him doing it, so I muttered, ʺHis name’s Sippy.ʺ
ʺHey, Sippy,ʺ he said, and offered his hand to be snuffled, which was gallant of him. Sippy came out from behind my legs and tried to frolic, which is what he usually does when he’s decided he’s made a new friend, but there wasn’t room, so he banged into all our knees in turn a couple of times and subsided with a wounded look at the hurrying passers-by who were cramping his style. Eled laughed. It was a nice laugh.
ʺI’ve never heard anyone call a foogit a little dragon,ʺ Dag said, who knew the same folk tales that I did.
ʺDidn’t your dad ever—ʺ Eled broke off, looking embarrassed. I’d already noticed that Eled didn’t have the manner of a carpenter’s son.
ʺEled’s dad is a dragonrider,ʺ Dag said calmly to me.
ʺAnd my mum’s oldest brother and four of my cousins,ʺ Eled said, grinning again. ʺAnd both granddads and all four of their granddads. My dad has two brothers and two sisters. And all of their first sons went to the Academy. And three of their daughters. And one second and one third son. I’m the youngest first son in this generation—and I have four older sisters, and one of them is a dragonrider too. I had the worst childhood you can imagine.ʺ
I didn’t mean to laugh, but I did, and for the first time since Dag had come home and told us about Hereyta, some part of me I couldn’t name stopped feeling quite so gloomy.
Eled looked pleased, and even Dag’s smile softened a little.
ʺIs everyone else here?ʺ said Dag.
ʺPretty much,ʺ said Eled. ʺA few of you with a long way to come are still on the road.ʺ
A long way to come trailing extra cargo, I thought. And can’t afford coach fare. Not that any coach would take a foogit.
Dag nodded.
After an uncomfortable little pause Eled said to me, ʺMost of us First Flighters get back early from this break. We can’t stay away. Everybody else turns up at the last minute like normal. First Flight itself happens first day of term. We’re supposed to get back one day before to check our gear over one last time, not like we didn’t leave it in blisteringly perfect order, and to look our dragons over too, but the dragonmasters have been doing that while we’re on leave a lot better than us dumb cadets can. A lot of the dragonmasters say that we shouldn’t be allowed to come back early, because we fret the dragons. Most Academy dragons take First Flight every year.ʺ
Dag’s silence was getting louder and louder.
Abruptly Eled added, ʺI’m hungry. Let’s go back to halls and get something to eat.ʺ
They set off but I just stood there. Sippy started to follow them and then stopped when I didn’t move, looking at me and them and back at me again.
ʺCome on then,ʺ said Eled, ʺno reason to block traffic,ʺ as a great rumbling cart went by and Sippy shied into me so violently he nearly knocked me down.
ʺI—er—Sippy and I will go to an inn if you’ll tell us which one,ʺ I said. ʺI mean, cheap.ʺ
ʺNot necessary,ʺ said Eled. ʺNobody does it much lately but in my dad’s day First Flighters always brought someone from home to see them off. It’s good luck.ʺ
ʺNot foogits,ʺ I said, stubbornly standing where I was. I held on to a handful of Sippy’s ear to make him stand still. This would work for approximately two minutes but was good for emergencies.
ʺNonsense,ʺ Eled replied. ʺExactly what they are is lucky.ʺ
Maybe fool’s luck, I thought. Maybe sometimes that’s good luck.
ʺMy aunt keeps foogits,ʺ said Eled. ʺI’ve always liked ’em. I miss having ’em around at the Academy.ʺ
Dag was smiling again, but he looked genuinely amused. ʺIf Eled says you and Sippy should come, you’d better. It’s easier than arguing with him.ʺ
Eled grinned a slightly different kind of grin and I thought, I just bet people don’t argue with him much, and I wondered when Eled had befriended Dag and what Fistagh thought about it.
ʺAnd besides, Tinhead,ʺ my brother went on graciously, ʺdo you really think I’d drag you all this way and then pitch you in an inn? Ralas would be ashamed of both of us.ʺ
ʺRalas?ʺ said Eled.
ʺOur wizard,ʺ said Dag. ʺAnd she’s a good one. I don’t know how our little boring village keeps her. She told me to bring Ern and Sippy.ʺ
ʺDid she then?ʺ said Eled, looking at me thoughtfully in a way I didn’t like at all. I let go of Sippy’s ear and started off in the direction they’d been walking before Eled said anything else. In a minute I was struggling to keep up—Eled’s legs must have been twice as long as mine. He said casually, ʺMy granddad on my mum’s side, he had a foogit. She flew with him and his dragon. It was rare in his day but he told me that in his granddad’s day all the dragonriders had foogits. They were mascots—they were good luck.ʺ
Dag, equally casual, said from Eled’s other side: ʺI don’t suppose your granddad had any good stories about two-eyed dragons, did he?ʺ
There was a pause full of stall-holders shouting, ʺThree a penny! Your best deal here!ʺ
ʺI don’t get it,ʺ Eled said finally. ʺIt’s making me crazier than a blind cawgilly in spring, trying to find a way to think about it. And okay, the grown-ups have to huff and blow and tell you you’re a bad boy and so on and so on—ʺ
I was startled enough to look up here, but Eled was waiting to catch my eye. ʺNo, he didn’t tell you that part, did he? He’s a bit of a brawler, your brother, when the virtue of one of his dragons is impugned. And they’re all his dragons. But that’s why he got jumped, you know? He has what Dorgin—he’s the chief dragonmaster—calls the grace of dragonriding.ʺ
ʺEled, shut up,ʺ said Dag.
ʺI knew he wasn’t telling you the whole story,ʺ said Eled, imperturbably. ʺIf Hereyta still had three eyes we’d’ve probably all expected her to get him, even if she’s old. She’s that good. She was the best before she lost an eye, and she’s been the best drill dragon the Academy ever had. And she doesn’t lose her edge even though she never gets to cycle out like the rest of ’em. That’s just it. She’s just as proud—and as merciless—as she was when she still Flew. A lot of the drill dragons numb out, they’ve been through too many beginners and all they think about when they’re here is food and sleep and when they cycle out again.
ʺI don’t know if any mere rubbishy little human is up to Hereyta’s standard but your brother is pretty close. I bet she brawled in her youth too—I bet her dragonmaster, when she was a youngling, had nightmares about her, when he wasn’t dreaming of what she’d accomplish when she was grown, if she didn’t kill off too many dragonmasters in the process. Did Dag tell you she has three crowns? She got the third one for the spear she took for Carn—that, and getting him home anyway.ʺ
ʺMaybe,ʺ I said, thinking about Ralas, ʺmaybe their wizard told them to do it.ʺ
They both looked at me. ʺThe Academy doesn’t like wizards much,ʺ Eled said at last. ʺWe’re supposed to do without what wizards do—charms and spells and so on—it’s all about dragons here. We do have a bonesetter and stitcher, but he’s only for the cadets—the dragonmasters do for the dragons—and he’s expected to keep out of sight. I can’t imagine anyone going to him for advice, or listening to him if he was rash enough to give it.ʺ
ʺWe have Seers,ʺ said Dag grimly.
ʺYes, we do,ʺ said Eled, the way you might say ʺwe have rats.ʺ
Ralas had once said of one of her scariest-looking visitors, ʺOh, he’s a Seer. They get like that. He started as a wizard—most of them do—but he didn’t stay there.ʺ She’d made a quick, ironical face, as if perhaps he should have.