| |
When Raolcan’s alcove was clean to his specifications, I joined the line of trainees headed up the ladder to the top of the butte. They were in good spirits despite the events of yesterday and jests rang out from those waiting for a turn on the ladder. Savette arrived, breathless, behind me.
“Are you okay?” I asked her.
“Of course, I am.” She looked irritated, so I left her alone. She was a puzzle: kind one minute, distant the next. It was like she was working from a code that was entirely different from my own and completely opaque. I left her alone. Maybe I’d figure her out eventually.
The line moved forward and I studied the pulley on the wall. This one was rigged with a long board and a couple of block pulleys for belaying heavy loads up the cliff. I squinted at it, trying to work out how they operated the system. If they could belay heavy loads up, then I could go up and down that way, although the thought still left butterflies in my belly. If I was honest, though, I knew that I’d never sit down for a meal again if I didn’t figure out a quicker way to go up and down between levels.
By the time I reached the top of the ladder I was breathless and Savette – the only person behind me – had taken on an air of extreme patience. I didn’t know what made me feel worse; the insults of others or her longsuffering attitude. I thought it might be her. After all, it was easy to retaliate against insults, harder to ask someone to stop waiting so aggressively.
I gasped at my first look at ‘topside.’ I’d expected scraggly vegetation and ragged rocks. I should have used my imagination more. A crystal-clear lake spread across the top of the mountain – the source, no doubt, of the water that flowed into Dragon School. Tall spires of various heights and designs encrusted the edge of the bluffs. They bore one thing in common – long branches spread from each one to provide a perch for dragons and silken banners flapped in the wind.
Between two spires, a wide semi-circle of rock was hewed into steps – or seating, I realized after a moment. There was room on it for hundreds and our tiny wave of trainees were huddled together on the lower few steps. At each end of the semi-circle, a dragon was carved, posed in an aggressive posture as if ready to attack whatever came near. It was an imposing sight. I would have been nervous to address so large a crowd at the best of times, but when you added carved dragons and a cliff at your back, you’d need nerves of steel to speak to the people here.
“Take your seats.” Grandis Leman stood a little to one side, looking much happier here in the open air, but his dark expression was still black as night. What made him so moody? Beside him was Grandis Dantriet, looking off into the horizon.
“We are just about ready,” Grandis Dantriet announced as Savette and I hurried to take our seats. “Call the Inducted, Grandis Leman.”
Leman pulled a silver whistle the length of his hand out of a pocket and carefully piped a three-note call. From behind one of the carved dragons, the Inducted ran out. Their close-fitting gray leather outfits made them look more like a team than our ragged band of trainees and they ran in a perfect line. They must train together physically as well as over books. I felt a pang as I realized that there would never be a time that I could run in a line like that. I couldn’t even avoid holding Savette back on the way up the ladder.
They lined up along the cliff edge and Grandis Leman stepped out in front of them.
“Are you ready to be tested on maneuvers, Inducted?” he asked.
“Yes, Dragon Rider!” they chorused together. Strange, they didn’t call him Grandis.
“Prepare to mount your dragons!”
I looked around with confusion and noted that the rest of my wave were just as confused until I finally followed Grandis Dantriet’s gaze. He watched the horizon, and then a moment later a chain of multicolored dragons were visible. Led by a Dragon Rider in black leathers and a Green dragon, and tailed by a second Green, the chain of dragons flew towards us with the speed of a strong west wind.
Along the cliff’s edge, the Inducted stood so close to the drop that I feared they would fall over the edge. If they stood so close, where would the dragons land? I stood, without thinking, my heart in my throat. What were they thinking? This was far too dangerous! The dragons were so close now that I thought they were diving straight for the semi-circle, until they wheeled at the last second, curving to swoop parallel to the cliff face.
The lead dragon dove beneath the edge of the cliff, disappearing from view, his green silken scarves fluttering in the wind. Directly behind him was a saddled white dragon with no rider. That dragon dipped below the cliff edge and then – lightning fast- one of the Inducted leapt from the cliff.
“No!” I gasped. I’d just witnessed a suicide. Horror gripped my chest, dark and thick. He would be falling through the air, falling to his death. Someone needed to dive one of those dragons down and save him. Why was no one screaming? Why weren’t they moving? They had to hurry!
And then another Inducted leapt, and another, all down the line of Inducted. My mouth went dry and my heart raced a thousand miles a second. I didn’t mean to clap a hand over my mouth but it went up on its own, clamping my scream inside. What madness was this?
“And that,” Grandis Dantriet said proudly, “is how you mount a dragon. Who wants to be first?”