“Leave my cousin alone,” he said.
“Don’t hurt foxes,” Silver rasped. Brajon helped her to her feet and walked with her back to his dune board.
“Forget about that two-faced scorpion. No wonder there’s a Dwakka painted on his board,” Brajon said. “Let’s just ride.”
Silver nodded. But the excitement she’d felt as she’d climbed the dune had faded, and nerves had taken its place. The dunes seemed as high as the top of the Jaspaton cliffs, level with the clouds.
Still, she placed her feet on the dune board, hip width apart. The silver threads decorating her tunic flashed like moonbeams.
“Bend your knees a little,” Brajon said. “And hold your arms out for balance, like this. Everyone will count, and when they say go, I’ll give you a push. Ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“One … two…” Brajon didn’t let the other kids get to three. With a shout, he shoved Silver in the side and sent her down the dune.
“Cheater,” she yelled as the nose of the dune board tipped down. It took her less than a second to tighten her muscles and find her balance. And once she did, she soared.
Her braid whipped behind her, her scarf trailing long. She narrowed her eyes to keep the stinging sand out of them. She flew and flew down the dune. Within moments, she was turning the board left and right, making snake tracks across the sand. Whoops and hollers came from above. She looked to see several of the kids chasing after her. Brajon remained at the top, his hands pumping the air as he cheered.
All the clumsiness Silver displayed when she was on her own feet disappeared. A thrilling thought flicked through her mind: This must be what it’s like to ride water dragons.
When she reached the bottom, the dune board slid to a stop. Silver pitched forward, her arms flailing, and toppled off. She lay still in the sand, catching her breath, reveling in the moment.
“Decodro wins,” Brajon shouted from the top.
“Fun, huh?” Mohad, one of the politicians’ sons, said, peering over at her.
“The most amazing thing I’ve ever done,” Silver said.
She grinned, grabbed the board, and ran up the dune again.
They spent the hours leading to dawn riding down the dunes, then staggering back up them. Brajon and Silver took turns with his board. With each ride, Silver grew more and more confident. Her snake tracks got wider, she spun in circles, and she squatted low and dragged her hand in the sand as she flew down the slope. She felt weightless, strong, and fast. She wanted to feel that way forever.
Silver set the board in the sand, ready for her last run. She looked all around, from the pale cliffs of Jaspaton before her, dotted with homes carved into the stone facade, to the vast reaches of deep desert behind. Just past the desert, she imagined she could see the sea, even if it was just the watery expanse of horizon, colored pale blue by a setting full moon.
Silver sighed. Sometimes, she loved her home. In the morning, the light was golden through her window, and in the evenings, the city sparkled with the jeweled colors of thousands of gemstone lanterns hanging on every level.
But she was ready to leave it all behind.
“Ready?” Brajon climbed on behind her. They would ride together this last time, so that no one was left stranded at the top. He kicked off, and they shot down the dune. The descent was faster this time, with their combined weight, and Silver loved the pressure of the wind on her cheeks.
She was meant for speed.
The kids waiting at the bottom walked back to the city with Silver and Brajon. They all talked and laughed and recounted their rides.
“I’ve never seen someone get so good so fast,” Mohad said.
Silver beamed. “Thanks.”
They entered the city, sending pebbles skittering around with their dragging feet. “The way you cut back and forth across the dune”—Brajon nodded in admiration—“no wonder your father never let you ride. If he knew how good you’d be … I can’t believe that was your first ride!”
“Do you think riding water dragons—”
“Your first ride?” Silver started at the sound of her father’s voice. “Certainly your last.” Rami Batal walked out of the shadows, his eyes flashing with anger.
Silver’s stomach flipped. She had been so caught up in the excitement that she hadn’t seen her father standing at the city entrance. She wondered how long he had been waiting for them to return. She hastily lifted her trailing scarf off the ground, but all that did was display the ragged, fraying edges, front and center. There was no way she was going to convince her father that she had only stood at the bottom of the dune and watched. Even if he hadn’t heard Brajon talking. Without another word, he took Silver by the elbow and hauled her home.
FIVE
The next morning, the fire in the ele-jewelers’ workshop roared with life, pushing the metallic tang of molten metal into every corner. Concentrating students surrounded tables littered with drawings, tools, and uncut gems. Queen Imea and Sagittaria Wonder were due to arrive in Jaspaton the next day, and everyone was in a frenzy.
Silver hammered a warm slab of gold, intending to make a cup. Her hands moved automatically, but her mind skipped far, far away. What does the palace look like? What are the water dragon training grounds like? A desert city on the sea … There must be hundreds of dragons there for me to ride.
“Batal!”
A sharp, painful rap on the back of Silver’s hand brought her out of her reverie. The metalwork teacher, Gama, stood over her with an expression as dark as desert storm clouds. He would have always hated Silver, simply for being Rami’s daughter—Gama’s family had once tried and failed to take over the Batal workshop—but his dislike intensified with every clumsy project she presented him.
The six other students in the room snickered. Phila, Gama’s daughter and the eldest in the class, shook her head slowly. Failure, she mouthed.
Silver looked down. She’d hammered her goblet into an unidentifiable mess.
“And finally,” Gama said, “understanding dawns on the ele-jeweler’s face.”
Under her breath, Silver said, “Someday—”
“Someday, you’ll live up to the Batal name? Unlikely.” Gama still held his jeweler’s loupe, ready to rap her knuckles once more. Silver winced in anticipation.
“Gama,” Rami Batal boomed as he entered the room with more materials for the students. “What inspired work is this daughter of mine doing today?”
Gama whirled around, a smile creeping like a dung beetle up one side of his face. “She—”
“I’m really close to getting it right,” Silver said, thrusting forward the mess.
Her father came closer, bowing over the lump of gold. He frowned, but only for a moment. No one else saw it but Silver.
“Good, good!” he said, straightening up again. “Gama, I need to borrow my ele-jeweler now. I have a special project for her.”
Gama’s lips pursed. “Special project?”
“Secret project,” Rami Batal said. He winked at Silver.
Her toes curled in her boots as she recalled his mention of a secret at Brajon’s party. Probably some sort of secret chore.
“It’s almost midday,” Silver told her father. “I have a lot to do. I…”
She looked from her father to her teacher and back again. If she didn’t sneak to Nebekker’s house as soon as possible, there was no way she was going to complete her riding suit in time.
“You can’t be doing anything as important as what I need,” Rami said. “Come along, Silver. A good midday to you, Gama.”