TRAINING STARTED BEFORE SUNRISE THE next morning.
Abel had planned to tell his parents an elaborate story about needing to help Roa with an early morning science project for the entire time that school was closed, but before he even got home from the can factory that night, Instructor Ally had already shown up at his apartment.
“Ah, Abel, thank you for helping with the cleanup after school today,” his treacherous teacher said the moment he walked in the door. She was sitting in the living room with his parents, sipping firegrass tea. She had crumbs from one of his favorite Wing Scout Cookies lingering on her scarf, and he just knew it’d been the last one in the box.
Ally winked at him, a signal to play it cool. Abel was covered in soot and sweat and maybe a little charred cow meat, so he probably did look like he’d been scouring floors in the aftermath of a dragon attack. “I was just telling your parents what a help you were after the disaster today. And we had the idea that, since school is closed, maybe you can keep helping me for the rest of the term.”
“Helping you?” Abel asked numbly. He was still thinking about the ten-ton dragon the color of the night sky that he’d left in a can warehouse on the other side of town. And also about how much he’d wanted that Wing Scout Cookie for himself. It was chocolate graham cracker and caramel, the best one. He didn’t think adults even liked that sort of thing, let alone teachers who were secretly kinners.
Maybe she’d just eaten it to show him she could? Somehow, sitting on the couch with his parents, devouring his favorite cookie, was more intimidating than all the threats the other kinners had made. Instructor Ally was too cool to break anything, but she didn’t need to. Real power didn’t have to flex its muscles.
“Instructor Ally thinks it would be good to prevent any backsliding while school is closed,” his mom chimed in eagerly. “Your grades haven’t been the best, and with everything going on …” Her voice trailed off. His mom wasn’t about to tell his teacher that dangerous Red Talons kinners were after his big sister. She didn’t know that his teacher already knew all about it.
Abel noticed that Ally was wearing a jacket to cover her tattoos. He also noticed it was gray and pale blue and purple, the Thunder Wings colors. Subtle. He had to remember that. His teacher was very subtle.
“We think it’d be good for you,” his dad added, then coughed a little. “Give some structure to your days. No sense sitting around the house with me all the time.”
“Wonderful!” Instructor Ally nodded. She slapped her palms on her knees and stood, then thanked his parents for the tea and the cookies, and turned to Abel. “Get some rest tonight, Abel. We start tomorrow at sunrise.”
She winked at him on the word “sunrise.”
On her way out, Instructor Ally glanced both ways down the hall. She was probably nervous to be a Thunder Wings operative in Red Talons territory. Then she flipped her collar up and tossed the thick coils of hair back over her shoulder, and walked to the elevators like she didn’t have a care in the world.
Maybe because all her cares had been laid squarely on Abel’s narrow shoulders.
His parents looked so relieved, believing that Abel would be safe with his teacher—occupied while they dealt with the trouble Lina had gotten into. They had no idea that he was neck-deep in Lina’s troubles. How had it not even been twenty-four hours since cleaning night? And where under flaming skies had Lina run off to?
“Why don’t you take a shower before dinner?” his father suggested. “You smell like a NERD’s feeding trough.”
“And for after dinner, I got a treat,” his mom added, opening a kitchen cabinet and showing him a brand-new, unopened box of Wing Scout Cookies. Abel could’ve cried. Sometimes a box of cookies was so much more than a box of cookies.
He wanted to hug his mom and bury his face in her sweater and tell his parents everything that had happened. He didn’t know what to do and just wanted his mom and dad to make it all better …
But no. That was for little kids. He was a dragon rider now, bound to a rare and valuable dragon. He was going to have to figure this problem out on his own. Like Dr. Drago said in the Holiday Special Issue: A hero does what is needed, even when it’s hard. But not if it’s evil. Then, you know … he doesn’t.
Now that Abel thought about it, the writing in that comic wasn’t always very good. He probably needed something better to base his entire life philosophy on.
There was no life philosophy that made it easier to wake up at the crack of dawn and take the number 5 bus to the number 17 bus to the old can factory all on his own, but that was Abel’s morning.
Bleary-eyed, with nothing but a cold breakfast bar and glass of Sunberry juice in his stomach, he arrived at the top of the tall metal stairs and let himself in with Lina’s keycard. The warehouse lights were already on. Roa and Instructor Ally were there, and Karak was curled up on top of a huge pile of cans and fallen shelves, and a safe that looked like it had been ripped out of a wall. (There were pieces of drywall still attached.) The dragon was sound asleep, still snoring.
“He made himself a hoard,” Roa told Abel, instead of saying Hello or Good morning or Sorry I betrayed you and your family to a kin you didn’t even know I was a part of. “Dragons will gather whatever is shiniest or most valuable to people and assemble it into their hoard.”
“Yeah,” Abel grumbled at them. “I know.”
“I’m just telling you because that’s kind of important for how kin battles work,” Roa replied. There was still tension between them, but Roa was obviously done trying to apologize. Maybe Abel just needed to move on too.
“I know how kin battles work,” Abel snapped. He hadn’t moved on yet. Roa frowned, but it was Ally who answered.
“You only think you know,” she said. “But what you’ve read in comics and seen in movies is nothing compared to the reality … which is why we’re going to let the dragon sleep a bit longer while you answer some questions.”
“You’re giving me a quiz?” Abel shook his head and looked to Roa with dismay. He’d never imagined becoming an illegal battle dragon rider would be just like school.
Making it even more like school, Topher appeared from behind one of the machines, mop in hand, a sour expression on his face.
“What is he doing here?” Abel asked.
“I asked the same thing,” Roa added.
“He’s my intern,” Ally explained. “His family, like your own, thought it best if he worked for the duration of the school term. You can ignore him. He’ll only speak when spoken to.”
“I finished cleaning the bathrooms,” Topher whined. “Can I please have a break now?”
“He will only speak when spoken to!” Ally repeated without looking at him. “Otherwise, he will stand quietly and await instructions. Or we can pay his parents another visit?”
Topher’s shoulders slumped, and Ally returned her attention to Abel. “What is the goal of a dragon battle?” she asked.
“To capture the hoard,” Abel answered, glad for an easy question.
“Correct,” said Ally. “And what is the hoard?”
Abel looked over at Karak. The black dragon was snoozing atop his pile of improvised, and mostly worthless, treasure.
“Whatever is shiniest or seems most valuable.” Abel quoted what Roa had just said to him. He gave his friend an appreciative nod.
“But what does that mean in a dragon battle?” Ally pressed him.
“It’s … uh … whatever they want it to be?” Abel didn’t quite know. In the movies and comics, it was always different stuff, like a flag with the kin’s symbol on it, or a valuable piece of art. Or even an actual treasure.
Ally shook her head and spoke in her teacher voice. “The hoard in a dragon battle is a symbolic token of the kin that has issued the challenge. It is given value by its importance to the kin. Whoever captures the symbolic hoard and gets it back to their lair first wins the battle. Tell me: What is the lair?”
“It’s where a dragon lives,” Abel said.
“In a dragon battle, the lair is also symbolic,” Ally corrected him. “It’s a circle on the ground at the start of the match.”
“Why not just call them circles, then?” Abel wondered. “Is everything in a kin battle symbolic?”
“Not everything. The violence, I assure you, is quite real,” Ally said. “Once the dragons launch from their lairs, the match is a very real game of offense and defense with life-or-death stakes.”
Abel looked over at the sleeping dragon. Three parallel lines of small black horns began behind his eyes and went all the way back to where the wings met the body. The way Karak had curled up, Abel could only see one of his massive feet hanging out along the pile of expired lima beans. But that one foot was bigger than Abel’s whole body. The claws on the ends of Karak’s toes looked like they could open a can the size of a building. Abel couldn’t imagine how there’d be a dragon more ferocious in a kin battle, and the thought made his chest puff a little with pride. That dragon chose me, he thought. And I’m gonna be great.
Then he remembered what his sister told him, about the great dragon riders being the ones you never heard about, because they never got caught. His teacher had gotten caught and sent to Windlee Prison for it. Did he really think he could be better than her?
“Wings wide,” Roa reassured him. “You can do this.”
He smiled. They were still on his side and he was glad for it. Maybe he had moved on from their betrayal. It felt good to let go of a grudge.
“The kin battles are equal parts race, heist, and duel,” Ally explained. “You will work with your dragon to master all three aspects, or you’re certain to fail.”
“So … which did you fail?” Topher asked. Roa gasped, and Ally looked like she was about to eat the boy. Abel wondered why Topher seemed incapable of just shutting his mouth. Wasn’t he in enough trouble? Abel bulged his eyes to signal that Topher should just keep quiet, but Topher barreled on. “What? We’re not supposed to know? I mean, what went wrong? How’d you end up in Windlee?”
Ally took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Topher gripped his mop harder, bracing himself for something, but the teacher still refused to look at him. “This is actually good for Abel to know,” she said. “I got caught because I forgot the most important thing about any kin battle: No one wins alone. I had a ground crew, as you will have, but I also had a few big victories and let them go to my head. My ground crew got tired of my attitude, and when the Dragon’s Eye showed up to make arrests, my crew disappeared into the night. Leaving me surrounded. I could’ve fought my way out, maybe, but it’s hard to fight when your heart is broken. I knew my friends had left me, and knew I deserved it. I surrendered, took the fall, and did my time. But I stayed loyal to my crew, and to my kin, even when the Dragon’s Eye questioned me without mercy. The kin rewarded me for my loyalty. They let me back in, helped me get a job in the school, and now they’re giving me this chance. You, Abel, will be my redemption too. Your success is my success, you understand? We’re in this together.”
Ally smiled, and there was even kindness in her eyes. She seemed like his teacher again. He felt safe.
But then she added, “So, if you’re gonna be dragon food, best get it over with early. Time to wake you partner for the first lesson.”
Without further ado, Ally grabbed a loose wrench that was lying on the floor near her feet and threw it at the sleeping dragon. It bounced harmlessly off Karak’s scales and clattered onto the dragon’s hoarded cans, knocking a few loose. They rolled away across the factory floor.
The dragon snapped one eye open and locked it on Abel. Topher leapt behind his mop, like the handle could hide him.
One thing even Topher knew, bad a student as he was, was never to disturb a sleeping dragon.