ʺI rejoice in your assistance,ʺ said the zedak gravely, and turned and left the hall. There was a sigh as big and gusty as a dragon’s when everyone started breathing again. I went back to my place and fell into my chair. Dag took one look around and said, ʺErn, we’re late. Come on.ʺ I didn’t say, ʺWhat do you mean, late? Late for what?ʺ I scrambled gratefully to my feet, grabbed what was easily grabbable from my plate for Sippy, who had missed the excitement by scrounging for crumbs under the table, and both of us followed Dag.
We were heading straight for the hsa. After a few minutes I risked glancing at Dag. He was smiling faintly. He noticed me looking and looked back. ʺI don’t know what’s in Firstarrow’s mind, but whatever it was he was pleased with you. I know you’re not a cadet or anything but people gibber and fall over when he appears from nowhere like that, which is what he does. You can see where he got his nickname. Although there’s a story that when he was a zero level soldier waiting in reserve on his first battle he let off an arrow before the command, except that he killed the assassin that was trying to sneak up on their troop’s colonel with it, so he got promoted for disobedience.ʺ
ʺBut he stood there in front of everybody and asked for help. Healer ’s help. From a kid.ʺ
ʺYeah. Interesting, isn’t it? And you’re Hereyta’s First Flight partner’s little brother.ʺ
ʺI can’t heal Hereyta,ʺ I said in alarm.
ʺI know, Tinhead,ʺ said Dag, but he reached out one arm and gave me an absent-minded big-brother hug. ʺIf I knew of a wizard who could, I’d’ve stolen Dad and Mum’s life savings and be gone over the Fabulous Mountains by now.ʺ All the best fairy-tale wizards live on the other side of the Fabulous Mountains from wherever you are.
ʺI wonder if his shoulder really does hurt,ʺ I said.
Dag snorted. ʺHe spent thirty years fighting the Borogon. He’s taken so many spears and arrows and swordstrokes he probably did eenie-meenie-miney-moe about what to use when he decided he wanted to talk to you. And now he has talked to you and . . .ʺ Dag didn’t finish. Two days till First Flight.
We saw Eled with his dragon, Ansilika, every day—Ansilika looked pretty serene to me—and Setyep and Arac too, till Dag stopped stiffening up when he saw them. I had been introduced to pretty much all the third-years, quite a few of the other cadets and a few tutors. And about twenty more dragons—I remembered the dragons best. They were all beautiful. One of the best—after Hereyta of course—was Munyinzia, who was purple and blue, and his partner was one of the few women at the Academy: Doara. ʺShe’ll be a city captain in five years,ʺ said Eled. ʺThe girls are always like that. They’re out there aiming and aspiring while a lot of the boys try to come back to the Academy as soon as they can and teach, so they can have regular meals and their baths indoors in hot water. Unless there’s another big war on, which please the gods there won’t be. My cousin was a city captain in four years and my sister’s already a deputy.ʺ
ʺYou said three daughters in your family went to dragonrider academies.ʺ
ʺYes. The other one was in the last war. She went from city upper guard to colonel in one fell swoop, and lasted fourteen months on the Haksap border before they killed her. It’s nearly a record. Her parents have a crown for it.ʺ
I finally found out who Fistagh was. I hadn’t realised I was expecting him to have horns and fangs till I met him and he was normal. Short, even. Well, not as short as me but shorter than Dag. I found out I was relieved he didn’t have horns and fangs because I’d’ve worried about his dragon.
Sippy went on playing his game. He never tried to play it when Hereyta was doing something for us, or we were doing something on the front bits of her. He didn’t pester like a little kid, he just waited. Hereyta had so much neck she could perfectly well play the game so long as Dag and I were busy doing whatever we were doing somewhere else—the rest of her stayed as steady as a, well, a small mountain. Unless of course you were asking her to flex the top of her wing in and out so you could find the sore places to rub better.
When Arac (with Setyep in tow) came round Sippy played it with the two of them. He never tried it with any other dragon, even Ansilika. I generally watched this show, waiting for that flash of dragon-magic when Sippy hit the right triangle point. I’d begun to recognise the flash—it wasn’t a flash, I just don’t know what else to call it; it was like a crumple or a crack more than a flash, but a crumpled what? Or a crack into what? Let’s call it a flash. Whatever it was, it didn’t bring a hot wind or pink haloes for the trees any more, and Dag and Setyep didn’t mention it again. But in a funny way it seemed to get sharper, somehow, like it was being pulled together from being all spread out.
The weirdest thing of all was once when I was standing thinking about it right after Arac had left. I was almost as if glued in place, or like a little glamour had got itself laid on me from watching the dragon magic. This does happen, by the way, or something like it, it’s one of the reasons you have to train to do magic with someone who knows what they’re doing rather than try and pick it up yourself; you might go off in one of these trances and not be able to get out again. Dragons aren’t supposed to be magical, not like rocs, say, but this felt like magic. So I was standing there, not noticing that I was kind of tranced, and thinking about the crumple-crack-flash. And I sort of noticed that Hereyta had kind of realigned herself since Arac left, but as if the game was still going on with three, as if Arac had merely changed location and become invisible. I had only just figured out that the invisible Arac was standing where I was standing. They were using me as the second point of the triangle. . . .
And Sippy found the third point.
Ever been caught in a crumple-crack-flash? I don’t recommend it. It literally knocked me down. It was a little like what being stepped on by a dragon might be like—knocked over and very slightly stepped on and then the dragon snatches its foot back just in time. It was also hot and . . . I want to say loud, but the loud part was only sort of part of the being-stood-on part, I think. It was just too much in all the ways you have to feel that something is too much. And my ears were ringing although I couldn’t remember hearing anything.
I sat up from where I’d fallen as Dag came trotting over to me. ʺHey, are you all right? What happened? Do you need food? It’s almost lunchtime and I know how tiring working on a dragon is if you’re not used to it.ʺ He was pulling stuff out of his pockets as he spoke. Various bits and pieces of dragon equipment emerged first, and then he produced an only slightly beat-up sandwich. Usually we had a midmorning break and ate something then, but Setyep had interrupted it. ʺYou just stay sitting down. I’ll sit too,ʺ and he did. ʺWhat happened?ʺ
Sippy was standing perfectly still—Sippy never stands perfectly still—looking at me. Hereyta was perfectly still too but she usually is unless she’s deliberately doing something. But her two eyes were clearly focussed on me.
ʺI have no idea,ʺ I said firmly, broke the sandwich in half and gave half to Dag. Sippy drooped, and then came over to me and fell down, only in standard Sippy falling-down style, nothing serious, and laid his head lengthwise along my legs so he could stare into my eyes, and stared. As if he was asking me to forgive him. Or to understand something. I gave him half my remaining half sandwich.