Iliana sprinted up the mountainside as explosions erupted all around her, blasting great flurries of snow into the air with every impact. Her legs burnt and her ears rang, but she kept running. If she didn't, the very creatures she'd come out here to observe would certainly kill her. She dived over a small ridge, and a moment later a blast of blue energy followed, skirting the ridge's top and harmlessly exploding further up the hillside instead of against Iliana's back. She could heard their unearthly wooshing and howling noises, like a storm contained in a single creature, approach rapidly. She couldn't possibly escape if she ran for it, so she began to crawl into a small snow hole made by some creature, thanking her thin frame and the softness of the snow. She lay very still once she couldn't go any further, trying to get her breathing under control in the tiny, cramped space. Was she fully inside the hole, or were her feet still outside, her black boots making her ludicrously visible in the white world?

Everything exploded around her, the snow disappearing instantly as she was thrown back by the blast, landing on her stomach with an impact that forced the air out her her and made the world spin. She looked up at one of the creatures, which was now floating just above her, no escape possible. It was bizarre mass of bubbling, crackling blue energy, constantly changing, like a living thunderstorm. Something vaguely like a face made of boiling clouds and energy was looking down at Iliana. She was sure the creature had to be some kind of confluence of magic, air, and perhaps more. She had come out here to find and draw the creatures when suddenly the entire sky had erupted into them, become alive with thunder and fury. In all that, it was inevitable that a few of them would notice her. At least I'll have the satisfaction of dying to an all-new abomination I discovered myself, she thought with a grimace as she waited to be blown to smithereens. I wonder if it will be named after me?

A great torrent of fire washed over the creature, consuming its energy entirely and dispersing it with a massive pop. Snow flew everywhere as enormous, feathered wings whipped up air currents. A dragon soared just overhead, its deep blue plumage blending in with the early morning sky. The living thunderclouds sizzled and spat bursts of energy at the dragon, which pressed its wings tightly against its body, suddenly diving down at great speed and avoiding the projectiles. It spread its wings once more, catching itself and deftly getting behind the creatures with an elegant spin. It used the momentary confusion of the creatures to incinerate another one.

Roars resounded loudly over the mountainside as four more dragons flew over; dragons in all possible colours. One of them was even a bright red, with yellow and green wings. The cloud-like creatures were caught between them and soon enveloped by their fiery breath, which consumed them in moments.

The dragons swooped overhead, circling over the mountainside above a stunned Iliana. Their riders, easy to miss upon the backs of the enormous beasts, made a few gestures to each other to communicate before turning back towards Destralia, on the other side of the mountain.

“Thanks for destroying my discovery,” Iliana muttered as she slowly got up, cringing as she felt melting snow slide through her clothes. She quickly shook herself out, brushing snow off the outside of her long, blue frock coat and doing her best to get all the little melting bits out of her cravat and her waistcoats. After a minute or two, she thought she'd probably rid herself of all the snow, but the damage was done: there were several painfully cold, wet spots inside her clothes now. She knew she couldn't count on Master Contomera's sympathy: he'd just tell her it was her own fault for not wearing a fur coat or padded jacket.

–

“It's your own fault for not wearing warm clothes,” Master Contomera said with a shrug, barely looking up from the heavy tome he was bent over. The stale, dusty odour of old paper hung thick in the explorers' guild as always, emanating from the maps hanging everywhere and the old books.

“I was wearing three waist coats on top of each other,” Iliana muttered, still shivering a little.

“And a single fur jacket would've kept you a lot warmer. How many times do I have to tell you, Iliana? You won't make it very far as an explorer if you insist on wearing that fancy getup no matter the weather.”

“But Master-”

“Iliana,” the old man said, “when you're working on maps or doing research, you can dress however you like. But on expedition, dressing sensibly can mean the difference between life and death. You were barely more than an hour out of town today, and you could've caught your death. Tell me, Iliana, how you plan to survive in a few years when you're a proper explorer and you're going on expeditions into unknown territory or the heartlands for weeks in a row?”

“Look,” Iliana said, fiddling with the frills on her sleeves, “that's not important right now. I think I discovered a new type, made from pure elemental energy and air. I've got half a sketch right here – I can finish it from memory if you like, and-”

“No need,” the Master said, “I saw them too.”

Iliana's shoulders slumped. “You... did?”

“A group of them found their way to town while you were away. The dragonriders easily fought them off. I can only assume that's why they came out to the mountain in the first place. They must've been looking for more of the creatures.”

Iliana's shoulders slumped. “Oh.”

Master Contomera's beard twitched with a small smile. “Don't worry, your observations might come in useful after all. And more importantly, the experience will come in useful for you. You're still in learning, after all. No-one is expecting you to truly play your role in our defence yet.”

“Great.”

“Yes. Now, why don't you go thank the riders?”

Iliana looked up. “Thank them?”

“Yes. From me, if not yourself. Tell them Master Contomera sends his thanks for saving his foolish apprentice.”

“Surely I can do something more useful? Can't we just send their Order a letter or something if you want to thank them?”

Contomera sighed. “Iliana, if you're ever going to get anywhere, you'll need contacts. An explorer needs to get around, and knowing a few dragonriders can be very helpful. Not to mention you might end up working for them if you play your cards well. A draconic Order needs a lot more people than just dragonriders to run, you know.”

“...Fine...”

After a quick change into dry clothes, Iliana walked the streets of Destralia, her hands in her pockets and her eyes on the ground. It wasn't that she wasn't grateful to the dragonriders - they had saved her life, after all – she just didn't want all the hassle. It wasn't as if they'd remember her, or as if she'd be the only one thanking them. Half the town had probably bought them a drink by now in gratitude for protecting them. People usually did after an attack. Which, Iliana always thought, was a bit double, considering the hefty tributes Oturia already demanded from the lands it protected. There just wasn't any point to Iliana adding to the mass, and she didn't like the idea of just going up to some stranger and awkwardly saying things just on the off chance it might help her career in the future. She didn't want to, and the dragonriders would already be bugged by enough people, so what was the point?

Iliana turned a corner around a blacksmith's workshop, changing directions as she had a better idea. She made her way to the lake by the outskirts of town, where she found, as expected, a group of dragons bathing. Their wings were folded and their feathers were ruffled up, making the normally graceful creatures look fluffy and fat as they played around, half in the water. Iliana sat down on the lake's raised bank, pulling out her pencil and paper and beginning a quick anatomical sketch. That way, her day wasn't wasted at least. Master Contomera wouldn't like her passing the chance to talk to their riders, but a study of their dragons would probably mollify him. More importantly, it actually interested Iliana herself. She could talk to humans whenever she felt like it, but she didn't get that many chances to study dragons. She started on the largest of the dragons, the magnificent, deep-blue one who had saved her earlier, trying her best to capture the bone structure underneath its plumage.

She quickly got lost in concentration as she penned down the dragon, and wasn't snapped out of it until a warm, smelly breeze blew into her face. She looked up into a pointy snout twice as big as her head. Two large, piercingly clever orange eyes in a feathered face looked down at her curiously. “Um, hello,” Iliana said in a small voice, more out of surprise than fear. The dragon's behaviour seemed more curious than threatening.

The dragon raised the lilac crest of feathers on its head a bit.

Iliana tilted her drawing so the creature could get a better look at it. “Do you like that? It's supposed to be you.”

The dragon's eyes grew large as it went cross-eyes to see the drawing better.

Iliana chuckled and touched her hand to the dragon's cheek, ruffling the shiny, indigo feathers on its face a bit. They felt very soft and warm. “I'm an apprentice at the explorers' guild, you see. I need to learn to quickly draw a creature and identify as much of its anatomy as possible. It can be of vital importance when an unknown creature shows up near towns. I figured you were a worthy subject for some practice. You saved my life this morning, you see.”

The dragon leaned into her scratches a bit, rumbling contentedly.

Iliana smiled and gently scratched more of its head. “You like that? I'm really not here to play around with you, but then again, how often am I going to get a chance to touch an actual dragon? Just be careful you don't drip water on me or my drawing, alright?”

The dragon backed up a bit, then shook itself out, water flying to both sides, but missing Iliana, as she was right in front of it.

“Er, thanks. You're a clever one, aren't you?”

The dragon made a face and raised its crest as it sat back down, letting Iliana continue petting its head. She quickly began a second sketch depicting the creature's friendly face. Her drawing came out looking surprisingly like the face of a lizard with a snout, but the dragon was nothing like a lizard in reality. There was intelligence in those orange eyes, expressions on its face, its skin was warm, and its feathers were soft. But on paper, with all those things stripped away, its reptillian side dominated.

“You know,” Iliana said with a smile, “you smell much better than I'd expected. I always thought a dragon's breath would smell like sulphur.”

The dragon made an indignant, nurbly noise and pulled away a bit.

“Now don't be insulted. I just said you smell really quite nice. I just didn't expect it because of the firebreathing. You're a lot softer than I thought too. I had no idea a dragon's feather coat was this thick.”

“It's because of the cold weather in Oturia. They grow more feathers in that climate.”

Iliana looked at the dragon, eyes wide in disbelief, then looked behind her instead. A greying blond man in his forties stood behind her, smiling. His brown riding gear clearly identified him as a dragonrider. The dragon greeted him happily, clapping its jaws in the air in joy.

“Oh, er, hello!” Iliana said in a squeaky voice. “I'm-I'm sorry, is this your dragon?”

“Yes, I'm Quayrat's rider. Remus,” he scratched the dragon just behind the jaws, sitting down next to Iliana. “Now, what have you been up to, you big oaf? I hope he hasn't been begging you for food.”

“Oh no, he hasn't,” Iliana said rapidly. “I was just drawing him when he came over and got all curious. He was being very friendly, actually.”

Remus took a look at her drawing. “Hey, you're not bad. No wonder Quayrat came over to look. He can be an awful show-off, you know.”

Quayrat made an indignant noise.

“Yes, you are,” Remus said.

Iliana got up. “Well, it's been nice meeting you and Quayrat, sir, but I've got to go.”

“One moment,” the greying dragonrider said, “I'd like to ask you a few questions, miss...”

“Iliana Cavotta,” she said, fiddling with the frills on her sleeve.

“Iliana,” Remus said with a small smile. “Why did you decide to draw Quayrat?”

“Well, er, I wanted to study the anatomy of the dragons, you see. And since he saved me earlier today and everyone was thanking you instead of the dragons, even though they were the ones fighting those creatures, I thought I'd draw him.”

“How thoughtful of you. Do you like dragons?”

“Uh...” Quayrat's head lightly touched her shoulder, and she scratched at the dark, downy feathers of his throat with a warm smile. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

“And it appears to be mutual. You've got a good manner with them. Quayrat very rarely behaves like this with humans he doesn't know. You might have what it takes to be a dragonrider.”

Iliana frowned. “Are you serious? Quayrat was just curious about my drawing and seems to enjoy being pet. I hardly think that's much evidence.”

“That alone is quite unusual,” Remus said. “Dragons aren't all that fond of humans by nature, except as a meal. Quayrat would've ignored most people if they'd come here. The fact that he immediately trusts you enough to behave like a friendly dog shows your mind is suitable for being a dragonrider. Well, either that or Quayrat really was desperate for attention. I can't make you any promises, obviously.”

Iliana exchanged a glance with the dragon. “So you're saying he could somehow sense something he liked about me?”

“Something specific. To make Contact with a dragon, a human needs a mind attuned to their psychic abilities. Otherwise, the gap between species is far too great to bridge. That's what Quayrat probably senses in you. Oturia needs people like you, Iliana. What do you say?”

Iliana's eyes flitted from dragon to rider. “I-I don't know, I'll have to think about it. It's a big decision, which could affect my life a great deal.”

Remus nodded. “Very wise of you. Riding a dragon brings duties as well as joys. If you make Contact with a dragon, you'd be bound to take care of it the rest of your life. Not to mention you'd be a member of the Oturian Order, and duty-bound to help defend others from threats. I don't think you'd ever regret it, but it's good to see someone who doesn't jump into it straight away.”

“People do that?”

“All the time. Well, I'll still be in town a few more days. Come see me if you decide.”

–

Iliana had agonised over her decision all week. In fact, she still didn't know for sure, but she'd made herself promise to decide as soon as possible. While she could of course send a letter to Oturia if she didn't decide until after Remus had gone, that wasn't a good idea. She knew herself: she could spend months nauseous with worry over this decision, making extensive pro and con lists, exhaustively going over every possible scenario, and never getting anywhere. That's why she had forced herself to make her choice today. Still, she was far from sure and had half a mind of going back and telling Master Contomera she wasn't going to do it after all. She'd gone back and forth on her decision multiple times each hour. Cold sweat was pouring down her back and her shoes felt like they were filled with lead as she walked through Destralia, fretting nervously with her cravat.

It was a fantastic idea, of course, being a dragonrider, to befriend one of the great beasts and fly on it wherever she'd want to go. She would be able to study its development and behaviour right up close, truly understand what a dragon was like. She'd also be able to see the whole world, explore unknown lands, observe the most bizarre monsters, find out where they came from, yet make it back home in time to sleep in her own bed. And of course, she'd be one of the elite who truly ruled the world. While she didn't doubt taking care of a dragon was a lot of work, it would mean getting to live off tributes instead of having to do a job day in day out for the rest of her life.

She had read every book about dragons and their care she could find to help make her decision. Master Contomera had eagerly encouraged her, told her it would be a shame to lose her as an apprentice, but had hinted that he'd like her to study her dragon once she got one, or at least try to get him more contacts in Oturia. She could already foresee him constantly asking to take him one place or another if did become a dragonrider. Of course, if was the important word here. It was almost a relief to think that even if this was a mistake, there was a good chance she'd just be back in Destralia in a few days, still without a dragon. The thought gave her some courage.

Iliana walked onto the town's central square, where Remus had told her to meet him, but he was nowhere to be seen. She walked around the square a couple of extra times in case she simply hadn't recognised him, but he simply wasn't there. As always, there were a couple of other dragonriders about. There were some stationed in every town to make sure their Order could be contacted quickly if the town came under a surprise attack despite the explorers' guild's best efforts. Considering how rarely that happened, they acted more like express messengers most of the time. Anyway, she wasn't planning to ask them where Remus was. It was a relief, in a way: she'd missed her deadline, so she'd have more time to think about becoming a dragonrider and could just send her decision in a letter once she'd properly thought about it. She wouldn't even-

“Hi, are you Iliana Cavotta?” A gangly, red-haired young man close to her own age asked.

Iliana's eyes widened with a start. “Yes. Why? Who are you? How do you know my name?”

He chuckled. “Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. I'm Michael. Remus told me to look out for you; he had to leave sooner than he thought.”

“Oh,” Iliana said, straightening her coat's lapels. “Well, I've come to accept his offer. I want to be a dragonrider.” I think...

“Perfect!” Michael said, loud enough to make Iliana cringe. “Well then, miss Cavotta, I've got orders to fly you straight to Oturia. Bheithir, my dragon, is at the lake, so follow me. We've got a couple of clutches hatching any day now, so you won't have long to wait.”

“Oh,” Iliana said.

“Isn't that great? I had to wait weeks before Bheithir hatched!”

“Fantastic,” Iliana mumbled. “I'll go pack, then. I hope Bheithir doesn't mind carrying too much stuff...”

“No need for that,” Michael said. “When you make Contact, all your stuff will be brought to Oturia. Until then, it's supposed to stay here. There are always more candidates than dragons, so there's not much point to moving all your stuff about if it's still likely you won't stay there more than a few days.” Michael blushed, his face turning the same red as his hair. “Er, sorry, I mean, obviously I hope you'll make it and-”

“It's okay,” Iliana said with a shrug, “I understand. It's just simple logic.”

“Well, I still hope you'll make Contact.”

Iliana frowned. “Why?”

Michael scratched his red hair. “Er, well, don't you want to?”

Iliana peered inquisitively at the dragonrider. “Of course I do. But why do you want me to make Contact? You don't even know me, and there's no reason to assume I'd make a better dragonrider than any of the other candidates.”

Michael seemed awfully uncomfortable for some reason. “Er, well, you know.”

“I do not.”

“I suppose I'm just being sort of... polite. And I met you, so that sort of makes us closer, right?”

Iliana frowned. “No. And is it polite toward the other candidates? Surely with so many wanting to make Contact with so few dragons, you should wish for the best candidates to succeed, not the one you happened to meet?”

“I... guess you're right...” Michael said. He didn't seem quite as eager to talk to Iliana any more as they walked. That was fine by her; he was a bit too chatty and she wanted to think. They reached the lake soon after. A small dragon, the red one with wings of bright yellow and green Iliana had seen on the mountain, eagerly came to the shore as Michael and Iliana approached. It raised its crest, which was easy to overlook as it was the same red as the rest of its back, in greeting and made a happy little jump as it walked towards its rider.

“Hey there, big fellow,” Michael said. “Meet Iliana.”

“Wrumpf?” Bheithir made a questioning noise.

“Hi, Bheithir,” Iliana said, stepping a little forward.

The dragon lowered its long neck to her, looking curiously for a while, before bringing its head all the way to her to let Iliana pet it. “You're a friendly one, aren't you?” she said, patting its cheeks. “And you've got such vibrant colours.”

“Thought he looked a bit like a clown when he first grew his feathers,” Michael said, leaning on Bheithir's shoulder with an arm around his neck. “But I've grown quite fond of it now.”

“I can imagine,” Iliana said, letting her fingers run through the thick feathers. “Such a bright red.”

Bheithir murmured.

“I bet his crest will become very blue,” Michael said with a grin. “He'd be a complete flying rainbow if it did.”

“His crest will change colour?”

“Oh yeah,” Michael nodded, “he's not fully grown yet. When the crest gets its own colour, they're mature.”

“Fascinating,” Iliana said. “Is it used to attract mates, then?”

“I'd love to talk more about dragons with you,” Michael said, “but I've got other duties today, so why don't I get you to Oturia now? Believe me, you'll learn everything about them you want in the next few months anyway.”

“If I make Contact,” Iliana said, but at the same time realised that if she didn't, she'd at least be able to study some dragons in Oturia, maybe read some books about them if they had a library.

“Well, fingers crossed.”

“Crossing your fingers won't help, but thanks.”

Michael offered to help Iliana onto Bheithir's back, but she quickly proved it wasn't necessary by climbing up to the saddle, which was attached just in front of the wings, herself. She quickly strapped herself in with the various little belts attached to it as Michael climbed up to sit in front of her. The saddle was clearly meant for two people, as it had a second set of straps and belts for the main rider.

“Alright,” Michael said, donning some aviator goggles and offering Iliana a second pair, “it'll get a bit cold and windy up there, so be prepared. And you probably shouldn't look down.”

“I live in the mountains, Michael,” Iliana said.

“Er, right. Well then, Bheithir, take us up!”

The dragon spread its great, colourful wings and began to run and then, suddenly, lurched up, carried into the air on the wind. Iliana got a queasy feeling in her stomach as the ground pulled away and she could suddenly see the whole valley. The Sun reflected in the lake, the mountains rose on all sides, and she could see the lake drain into the river, deep down below at the forested bottom of the valley. Destralia's buildings already looked like miniatures, the people almost invisible.

Riding the dragon should've been terrifiying, or at least unpleasant with the cold air tearing at her, but it was exhilarating. Iliana could've screamed with joy, seeing the world pass beneath her, wind flowing powerfully through her hair and making her coat billow behind her. The cold air stung in her lungs as vast mountain vistas slowly rolled by. Bright green valleys lay cradled between them, thin, dark wires of water everywhere, starting as waterfalls going down huge mountainsides and ending up as rivers and lakes. Clouds collided with peaks and built up on a single side of them, pouring out their rain. Human towns were tiny little insect villages, scattered through the valleys.

As time passed, the awe of it all lessened a bit, while it was still cold and windy. Thankfully, the warm feathers of the dragon warmed her and Michael's body shielded her from a lot of the wind. The mountains grew taller and more grim as they continued, the green of forests and grass banished to small valleys as mighty glaciers and huge cliffs of rock dominated everything. Ahead, a massive peak towered over everything else, dark and distant and mighty. There were small buildings around the broad summit, little imperfections atop the great peak. A strange town of blue structures, arranged in a large circle, straddled the mountaintop proudly. The silhouettes of dragons flew everywhere around it, while even more were visible sitting on the buildings. As they soared higher, Iliana could see the shallow, small structures were only the tip of the iceberg: the cliffs around the summit were riddled with little lights, windows, and chimneys, betraying underground rooms.

“Welcome,” Michael proudly said as they began to descend into a central square, open and almost arena-like, “to Oturia!”

2: Oturia

Iliana spent most of her first day in Oturia exploring. It didn't look that big from above, but its caverns were very large and elaborate. The largest of them was a kind of hub, easily big enough for a hundred dragons to fly around freely, where dozens of smaller passages came out. Iliana didn't spend much time there, as it was much like a busy market and full of people. She preferred to explore the other caverns and the outside.

Most of the rooms in the caves inside had long, thick tubes running through them that radiated heat and sometimes steam. As Iliana quickly found out, there was a huge cave, deep underground, with impressive boilerworks and steam engines that ultimately heated and powered all of Oturia through its intricate system of pipes. Intricate clockwork devices were found almost everywhere, whirring and clicking softly in the background. Almost all the lights were powered by them

She hadn't imagined Oturia like this. Destralia's Count lived in a large, ornate mansion, decorated with imposing sculptures, columns, and such. The Duke her parents worked for back in Zhyal had lived in an incredibly opulent structure palace decorated with gold, silver, marble, and platinum. Naturally she had expected Oturia, as the home of one of the draconic Orders that even kings had to bow to, to be even more opulent. She had not expected utilitarian straightforwardness with exposed pipes and machinery everywhere. There were still plenty of decorations, but these were far more subtle and less pompous than even the Count's: mainly murals depicting the mountains outside in vibrant blues, with the occasional portrait of a dragon and its rider in a very life-like and non-aggrandising style. Nothing like the clockwork devices would ever be seen in a noble's palace either, but Iliana loved them. What little time she didn't spend looking at dragons, she spent trying to figure out what various machines were for and how they worked.

The dragons all shared quarters with their humans, either connected directly to the outside or the vast central caverns for easy draconic access. The dragons didn't just sit in their quarters at day, though, even on days their riders stayed in Oturia. They were everywhere: a lot of them sat on large, rocky ridges on the edge on the peaks, others flew around the mountains. Whether they hunted or just liked to stretch their wings, Iliana didn't know. There was a deep depression in the middle of the Oturian peak, a small ravine that almost cleft the summit in two. It neatly bisected the underground portions of Oturia, and it was quite startling to be walking through tunnels deep underground and suddenly emerge into the cold, bright outside world on a walkway or bridge along the ravine. It was another favourite spot for the dragons, who had a near endless amount of ridges and platforms here, and a lot of them liked to sit at the bottom as well. The many walkways and bridges in the ravine offered a splendid view of all of them, and Iliana spent a lot of time just leaning on the fences, and looking at them.

Every dragon's feathers were different, and they came in every colour and shade imaginable. Two red dragons playing around together were a beautiful swirl of scarlet, crimson, and rosy red. There was an almost pure white dragon who blended in perfectly with the snow, except for its deep lavender crest and tail. One with sharply contrasting black and white feathers in a magpie-like pattern swooped overhead, while another didn't seem to have two feathers in the same shade, its coat a rainbow-coloured monstrosity that simultaneously hurt and pleased the eyes. The only thing all dragons had in common, was the crest of extra long feathers, often the length of Iliana's whole arm, that ran from the top of their head, over their backs and finally culminated into their tail. Like Michael had said, it was always a different colour than the rest of the body for the adult dragons. They clearly used it to communicate, always raising and lowering the crest.

Their sizes were different too: the largest ones neared twenty metres from their sharp snouts to their long-plumed, colourful tails, while the smallest adult dragons were only ten metres long, their shoulder height not that much more than a large horse's. The young dragons were smaller and often had less interesting colour schemes, many of them being only a single colour over their entire body.

The dragonriders were a colourful bunch, just like their dragons, but only in terms of personality and origin. They came from all over the world: while many had the light skin and blonde hair that was prevalent in the lands protected by Oturia, there were plenty that came from farther away. The skin of some was the same shade of brown as Iliana's own, so it looked like she wouldn't be the first rider from Zhyal in Oturia. Their clothes were a different matter, though: when flying or preparing to do so, most of them wore fairly drab, brown riding gear. It was fairly thick to protect from the cold and made of leather and furs. When they weren't planning to fly, the dragonriders wore more ordinary clothes, but they still tended to stick to fairly simple and understated stuff, often thick and woolly to protect from the cold outside. Iliana was easily the best-dressed person around. Well, it was far from a new experience.

In the evening, there was a lecture in one of the lower caverns. Iliana followed at the rear edge of the crowd, careful not to break away and seem too out of place, but not wanting to mix in with them and possibly disturb other people's conversations either or have to make small talk either. There were about thirty of them, ranging from age fifteen to twenty-five. They streamed into an underground theatre, raised seats forming a half circle around a stage. As Iliana was in the back of the crowd, most of the lower benches were already occupied; that suited her fine, she could sit on a higher one and have the entire bench to herself.

A short, portly man with dark skin walked onto the stage. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Marco Elba, and I'm here to teach you how to make proper Contact and how to take care of your dragon once you do so. But I also want to help you figure out if you want to be a dragonrider in the first place. It's not always easy, and you can still turn back now. You won't have that option once you've made Contact.”

Marco walked from one side of the stage to the other. “Dragons are not friendly creatures, ladies and gentlemen,” he continued in his deep voice. “By nature, they're just as hostile to humanity as many of the other magical creatures we can find. Worse: dragons are cunning as well as powerful. Humanity was almost driven to extinction before we learned the secret to making Contact with them. They're our protectors; without them, we couldn't hope to stand up to the monsters that prey on our world.”

“A long time ago, some very clever people figured out that while dragons were ferocious, dangerous, and hungry for humans, that was only because they were taught to be so by their own kind. Shortly after hatching, a dragon makes Contact with its parents, the similarity of their minds allowing a psychic bond to form. This helps the parent to teach the child all it needs to know, and the child to alert the parent to any danger it's in. We use this to have dragons make Contact with humans instead. When one of our dragons lays eggs, we take them away and put them in a special hatching room where they can stay warm without their parents. When eggs show signs of hatching, we gather people like you to be present and let the dragons make Contact with your minds instead of its parents'.”

The lecture, which Iliana was following full of interest, was interrupted by the pitter-patter of feet running down the stairs and panting. A curvy girl with a head of short, obviously dyed, red curls was rushing down into the theatre, two steps at a time. To Iliana's annoyance, she took place on her bench, dropping down right next seat, even though she could've just picked any empty bench. “Oof, it's cold as snow outside, isn't it?” the girl asked, red-faced and panting.

“Yes,” Iliana said, trying to focus despite her annoyance at having to sit next to someone.

“Once Contact is made, the dragon can be raised by its human partner. If the dragon is raised properly and the bond deepened so that it's based on friendship and loyalty rather than just Contact, it will last a lifetime.”

“Hi, I'm Elise,” the annoying girl said, grabbing Iliana's hand and shaking it. “What'd I miss?”

“Not much,” Iliana said, pulling her hand away.

“Dragons are powerful and intelligent, but they need their rider's guidance. A dragonrider's duty is not just to the world and their Roost, but also to their dragon. If-”

“What's your name?” Elise asked, her big, brown eyes stinging Iliana annoyingly.

“Iliana Cavotta.”

“Of course, the dragons don't much enjoy their eggs being taken for Contact; that's why their parents and their riders are transferred to a different Order once the eggs are laid. Their parenting instincts won't be as strong and dangerous there, and if they don't see their young for the first year or so their humans can help them deal with the loss much more easily.”

Elise sighed. “All this talk is so boring.”

That wasn't a question, so Iliana didn't bother answering it.

“Allowing the parents access to their eggs or young would lead them to become very protective of them. Believe me, you don't want to see a dragon's motherly instincts raised. It wouldn't just endanger the Contact between human and hatchling, it'd endanger the human's life. The three pairs who laid the clutches you'll try to make Contact with when they hatch were all transferred to Segovia.”

Iliana frowned. “All the way to Segovia? Surely Golgosk is much nearer?” but she didn't speak loudly enough for Marco to hear her, nor did she want to make a fool of herself by asking something that was probably completely obvious. Maybe the riders had just wanted to take a vacation to a warmer place. Castle Golgosk was almost as high in the mountains as Oturia.

Elise sighed deeply. “I wish they'd let us meet the little baby dragons already instead of making us sit around listening to boring talks...”

“They haven't hatched yet,” Iliana hissed.

“I know. So just let us meet some of the adult dragons, or explore the Roost and the surrounding mountains or something? I don't see why we have to waste time listening to all this.”

Iliana couldn't help but be baited into an answer. “Because we have to know these things. We can hardly just walk up to the hatching dragons and figure out what to do on the spot.”

“Why not? I think that's an excellent idea. The little dragons will get a much better idea of who we are if we have to figure things out for ourselves, instead of being fed the right procedure. It'll be more spontaneous, you know.”

“You don't say.”

“It's important not to be afraid,” Marco said. “A recently hatched dragon acts purely on instinct, and if it feels your fear, it will see you as prey, not its parent. Don't push too hard either. Human minds and draconic minds are very different; Contact can only be made if your personalities match well. Badgering a hatchling who simply isn't compatible will just scare it, and then it may see you as a threat and attack you.”

Iliana could feel Elise's eyes wandering over her. “I like your outfit. It's very dapper.”

Surprised, Iliana turned to Elise with a smile and a slight blush. “Thank you!”

“Yeah, you dress well.”

“My parents are tailors for the Duke of Zhyal, so I suppose I've always been taught to... Well, as you say, dress well.”

“Tailors, huh? Well, you look it,” Elise said, running her hand through the frills on Iliana's cuff before Iliana pulled her arm away. “So did you make those clothes yourself, then?”

Iliana chuckled. “If I did, they wouldn't look this good, believe me. My parents are the tailors, not me.”

Elise smiled. “You know how to pick them out, at least. I like the colour scheme too. All those shades of blue... You know, I had my hair in the same shade as your waistcoat for quite a while.”

“Did you? Light blue?”

“Oh yeah, it was pretty neat. I decided it was time for a change, though, so now it's red.”

“So I-”

“Ladies upstairs,” Marco's deep voice said, “could you please pay attention as well?”

Iliana stiffened and flushed, realising how much she'd been drawn out of the lesson and how much vital knowledge she must've missed. “Thank you,” Marco said. “Now, as I said, once your dragons are fully grown, it will be your duty to defend the world. I'm sure you've all experienced attacks, so I hardly need to stress how important dragonriders are to our defence. You will be called upon day and night to defend others.”

It was all rather inefficient, Iliana thought. There were obviously better ways to deal with monsters. If they just learned more about the monsters and their origins, they could stop them at the source, prevent them from being a problem in the first place rather than mopping up after the fact.

“You've got a very nice tie,” Elise said. “Silk?”

Iliana quickly pulled it out of Elise's hands. “Yes, it's silk, but it's not a tie. It's a cravat.”

“Oh,” Elise said. “I thought those were the same thing?”

“W-well, the words are often taken to mean the same thing, but more specifically refer to- Sorry, we shouldn't talk. Let's pay attention.”

Elise sighed. “But it's so boring.”

“I really don't think it is. It's important. You've got to know how to make Contact. And, more importantly, what you'll have to do afterwards.”

Elise shrugged. “Why worry about that? Sure, maybe it'll be a bit tough, but we'll have dragons.”

Iliana raised an eyebrow. “There's also going to be a test before we're allowed before the hatchlings.”

“What?! That's complete-”

“Ladies, I'm terribly sorry for interrupting your conversation with my lecture.”

Iliana almost jumped off her seat. “I'm, I'm sorry, sir! I-I didn't mean to-”

Marco gestured for her to settle down. “Can either of you maybe tell me how many genders dragons have?”

“Um, three?” Iliana said.

Marco smiled. “Nice try. It's four. Please pay attention, this is important information which affects what dragons you can make Contact with. Obviously, since dragons have four genders, we can't speak of males and females. The four genders are usually called by the roles they end up playing in combat as adults due to their different body types: leaders, fighters, sneakers, and speedsters.” He cranked one of the many levers on the side of the stage, and with a lot of whirring and clicking of gears, two mechanical arms slowly rolled out a man-high sheet of paper with four drawings of dragons behind him.

“What about boringers?” Elise said, resting her chin on a hand.

Marco pointed at one of the drawings. “The leader-dragons are the largest, rarest, and most powerful. To state the obvious, they are the natural leaders among their kind. Every Dragonlords rides a leader-dragon. They only ever make Contact with men, so the women should mostly just steer clear of them during hatching. However, we'll arrange both the eggs and yourselves in such a way that you're unlikely to encounter them in the first place.”

Marco pointed at the second drawing. “The fighter-dragons have the most average size and build of them all and serve as the main fighting force of their Order in combat. They make Contact with boys and girls about equally, so any of you can try for them. Which you probably should, as they're the most common gender.”

“The sneaker-dragons are the smallest and have narrow wings,” he indicated them on the drawing, “to help them manoeuvre carefully. They're incredibly agile aerial acrobats; they can learn to turn on a dime in mid-flight. Which is not entirely pleasant for the rider, I can tell you: my own Ernici is one of them. In combat, they often play support and reconaissance roles. They mainly make Contact with men, but about one in four of them have female riders. So for your own safety, I'd advice the girls among you to keep some distance, but do keep an eye out for the possibility of making Contact with them.”

Marco tapped the fourth drawing. “The speedster-dragons, finally, are the fastest. They're the most streamlined and lean and can fly at great speed. They usually employ hit-and-run tactics in combat. They always Contact women, so the boys should stay away from these. Now, for your own safety, we'll make sure you can all recognise the different genders, so don't worry about memorising them quite yet.”

–

Iliana enjoyed the next few days for the most part. Every day, they had lectures, but were free to roam Oturia otherwise. Iliana kept herself busy by drawing the dragons, both because she wanted to and so she'd have something to show for her time here if she didn't make Contact. What time she didn't spend exploring and drawing, she preferred to spend in the library. Oturia had more than enough books, and not just ones about dragons that helped her prepare either. The Order had amassed tomes on just about every subject over the centuries, including many very arcane ones.

The other candidates organised some kind of get-together or party every day, which Iliana naturally had no intention to join. She made a habit of quickly leaving dinner and getting to the library before anyone could try to rope her into staying. Much better to use her time constructively than to waste it being bored by others and having to pretend she enjoyed it.

The test was on the fourth day. Iliana, to her delight but not surprise, received a perfect score. The only other person who had managed that was a thin young man with a long neck who reminded Iliana of a lizard. He spend most of the next day boasting of his success in his nasal voice to the other candidates. Only a few had failed the test and wouldn't be allowed at the hatching. Elise Berlioz had somehow scraped through, despite doing anything but pay attention in the lectures. While Iliana should've been disappointed by the extra competition, she actually found herself quite glad.

On the fifth afternoon since Iliana had arrived in Oturia, she came across a strange dragon in the main hall, sitting near some of the larger pipes, soaking up their steamy warmth. It looked unusually thin, small, and bony, and was shivering a bit. As Iliana approached, she realised it was because it's forest-green and sea-blue feather coat was much thinner than the other dragons'. She would've investigated, but she was on her way to the lecture and had to hurry along.

Marco started the lecture by explaining the eggs were ready to hatch, would probably do so by the evening. It got even Elise's attention. He spent the rest of the lecture helping them prepare for the hatching, giving them help that was as practical as possible, but ultimately no-one's mind was quite with the lecture. Even Marco himself seemed nervous and excited.

“...Speedster-dragons are the least likely to try to take a bite out of you, since their instincts lead them more toward flight, but that's-” Marco paused in the middle of his lecture when Remus entered the hall. It was the first time Iliana had seen the greying dragonrider since their first meeting. “Remus, is it time?”

Remus nodded. “Almost. The eggs are showing cracks.”

An excited whisper went through the candidates. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Marco said, “may I introduce you to Remus Lamberti, Dragonlord of Oturia.”

Iliana frowned. Remus had never mentioned that when they'd met. And what was a dragonlord doing hanging around Destralia anyway?

Remus smiled and nodded at the candidates. “I see many things on your faces. Excitement, intrigue, fear, worry, anxiousness, impatience. But I don't need to see you to know what you're feeling. I remember it all too clearly, when I sat there, thirty years ago. I remember how I walked up to the eggs, saw the dragons hatch, looked into their eyes... And how none of them were interested in me.”

A mumble went through the crowd.

Remus smiled. “It stung, believe me. I thought all my dreams had been shattered. But then, a new clutch was laid. Another chance. And once again, I made no Contact. No luck on the next two clutches either. But on my fifth try... I caught the eye of little Quayrat.” Gears clicked, whirred, and turned, and the ceiling opened slowly through the middle. With great flaps of indigo wings, Quayrat descended, drinking in the adoration and awe of the crowd with a proud smirk on his feathered face.

Remus paused, waiting for the viewers to settle down as he gave Quayrat a look swimming with fondness. “I tell you this because most of you will not make Contact. We only have seven eggs waiting for over twenty of you. It's not the end of the world, nor of your dreams. I happen to know Tofana will lay a clutch within the next few days. Don't push yourself too hard. You will get a second chance. And every chance you need after that. Trying to force Contact upon a hatchling is the easiest way to get hurt.”

Remus smiled into the audience, briefly catching Iliana's eye with momentary recognition. “Enough talk now. I wish you all nothing but the best of luck and I look forward to accepting seven new dragonriders from among your number into the Oturian Order.”

Quayrat nodded at the crowd. They all got up and started following Marco, who led them out of the lecture hall, through Oturia, to the deeper levels underground. Iliana found herself almost trembling with excitement. She tried to get herself to properly think about this one more time, to realise that this was her last chance to back, that this could be a great mistake. But it was impossible to quench the fire in her heart. Every beautiful dragon they passed only fuelled it. A dragon with black, gleaming feathers sat proudly and watched the candidates walk by. A young magenta dragon and its rider were engaged in a tug-of-war over a slice of meat. Three dragons were playing together in mid-air in a mesmerising whirl of colours. She passed by a couple of beautiful emerald feathers she would definitely have collected only a few weeks ago: colourful feathers were easy to find in Oturia. Iliana threw all caution to the wind: she had to make Contact with one of these incredible creatures.

Marco led them to the hatching chamber, a large, round room, where the ground was covered in earth, mulch, and old leaves, like a forest floor in autumn. A very distinct scent hung in the air. But the most notable, of course, was the heap of branches, earth, leaves, and other matter in the middle. Tantalising glimpses of eggs the size of a human head were visible through it. Marco started explaining the eggs had been sorted by gender as best as possible and positioned the girls on one side of the room and the boys on the other.

Iliana fretted with her cravat impatiently. She wished the eggs would hatch already. Fire was rushing through her veins, she didn't have time to wait! She couldn't believe she'd had to force herself to make a decision within a week when it was so obvious. Of course she wanted to make Contact with a dragon, she had never felt as alive as she did now, just thinking about it!

While she waited, people took place on a balcony overlooking the cave. Remus sat down, talking to a tall man with wild hair next to him. On the other side of the balcony, a man was talking to the boy who had managed a perfect score. The man's harsh features made him look a lot like an older, even more lizardy version of the boy, who could only be his son. Both of them reminded Iliana far more of lizards than the dragons ever did. Iliana could recognise some more of the parents of her fellow candidates on the balcony. A few medics entered the main cave, taking place by the outer wall.

But it didn't matter who was watching: the eggs were finally hatching! A hole was clearly visible in one the eggs Iliana could see in the mound of dirt. The nest itself was actually moving in several places. And then an ugly little creature a little taller than Iliana's knee popped out. It looked nothing like the proud, beautiful adult dragons; more like the offspring of a gecko and a plucked turkey. It was oddly proportioned, clumsy and naked-looking. It emitted a goofy squawk. One of the girls next to Iliana gasped.

A young woman somewhat older than Iliana stepped confidently towards the hatchling, made persistent eye-contact, only for it to squeak loudly, launch itself off surprisingly powerful hind legs and give her a nasty bite on the arm. With a cry, she was knocked to the ground, bleeding, saved only from further harm by her quick reaction to crawl away. One of the medics on the edge of the room quickly rushed towards her and helped her to safety. Iliana swallowed a lump of shock and looked around the room. She caught the eye of Elise, and they gave each other a nervous, but encouraging smile.

Iliana forced herself to breathe slowly as she saw someone make Contact with the dragon that had just attacked their fellow candidate. The creature immediately calmed down, suddenly no longer bloodthirsty and furious, but crooning softly. She tried to get back into the mindset she'd had before the attack startled her. She could do this; she shouldn't be afraid. Little dragons were crawling out of the nest on all sides now, squawking and screeching, but most were already surrounded by groups of her fellow candidates. Fat chance she'd have there.

Iliana spotted the little head of a fighter-dragon poking out of the nest, almost on its own, the only human nearby the lizard-boy, who had his focus on a leader-dragon he was approaching slowly. Iliana ran a few steps to that side of the room, then slowed down and focussed on the dragon, now crawling out of the nest. She shut out both fear and overconfidence, looked deep into its green eyes and opening her mind to Contact.

There was no recognition in its eyes, no friendship. All that Iliana saw was a momentary glimpse of fear, fury, and hunger, one she'd seen many times before in wild creatures. She dived to her left just as the hatchling pounced her, dodging its vicious claws and barrelling into the lizard-boy. She landed in the earth where he had just stood, a branch poking into her side. But she had a bigger problem: the leader-dragon he had been trying to make Contact with let out a furious squeak at her intrusion. She looked up at it, trying to scramble out of its way as fast as she could as she looked right into its furious eyes.

An electrifying jolt went through Iliana's mind and all thought of escape left her as she was pulled deep into the crimson of the dragons eyes. She could feel the sharp, hungry, terrified mind behind them. Her own fear evaporated; the dragon was the one who was truly afraid. She suddenly knew exactly what it was like to hatch into a strange, terrifying world, but also that said world had just become far less terrifying as the dragon had found someone who would protect it, be friends with it, care for it no matter what.

Iliana's hand slowly moved, almost of its own accord, to touch the fragile, confused little creature. Its bare, grey skin was warm, but had a hard, scaly feeling to it. The dragon – no, her dragon – squeaked pitifully and nuzzled up to her hand, his crimson eyes now warm and full of love. “Hello, little guy,” she whispered, her hand trembling a bit. “I'm Iliana.”

Her adorable little baby dragon crooned and gave her hand a lick with a little grey tongue as she sat up. She could feel his hunger almost as if it were her own.

“Don't touch it,” said a nasal voice. The lizard-boy had stood up, and was staring down at Iliana angrily. “It's mine.”

Iliana and her dragon looked up at the lizard-boy, blinking slowly and in unison. “I... Don't think he'd agree.”

The boy set a step closer, and Iliana's dragon squeaked loudly and began to lash out. “No,” Iliana said firmly. Her dragon stopped, looking rather disappointed. “I think you'd better find another dragon,” Iliana said, unable to keep a bit of smug pride out of her voice. “This one has chosen me.”

The lizard-boy looked like he was going to protest further, but then thought better of it and stormed off, muttering something about his father. Iliana didn't listen; she had eyes only for her dragon. “Come,” Iliana said with a smile, “let's go get you some food.”

3: The First Day

Iliana walked her dragon into the adjoining room, a large, cavernous place subdivided into smaller ones by partial walls. Marco gestured Iliana into one of them with a proud smile. In the other ones, the other candidates – no, new dragonriders – were already feeding their dragons, but she wasn't too interested in them. Not when she had her dragon. He walked clumsily, sometimes tripping over its own feet, but was quite fast, darting around her feet curiously. He only came up a little above her knee, and she had to admit he was rather ugly, but that didn't matter. She already felt nothing but love for this sweet little creature. In the section Iliana had for herself, she found a small bucket, mainly filled with chopped meat, but also some stuff that looked like seeds and bits of fruit. As she put it on the ground, her dragon began gobbling down chunks of meat, barely pausing between huge bites.

The tranquillity was rudely disturbed by the tall, thin lizard-man she had seen on the balcony. “You! What do you think you're doing?!”

Iliana looked up from her task, a cold feeling seizing her heart. “I'm feeding my dragon.”

The tall man grimaced. “I can see that. Return it to the hatching grounds at once.”

Iliana raised her eyebrows. “...My dragon?”

“Yes, the dragon! I don't know what your game is, but you won't get away with it.”

“I have no game!” Iliana said, deliberately positioning herself between her dragon, who was projecting his fear into Iliana's mind, and the lizard-man. She had never felt so protective of someone in her life, and she wasn't going to allow some bipedal lizard to get his hands on him.

“Then how do you explain a girl making Contact with a leader-dragon? That simply doesn't happen.”

“Sir!” Marco came running up to them. “Dragonlord Igor, please don't disturb the new recruits. If you want to discuss this matter with our own Dragonlord, he'll be-”

“Shut it, I'm talking,” the lizard-man sneered. He turned back to Iliana. “I saw you. You ran over to the boys' side of the room and stole that dragon from my son.”

Hot rage bubbled in Iliana. She tightened her cravat furiously, finding it a bit harder to breathe from the force she used. “I did no such thing! He made Contact with me, fair and square!”

Marco flushed, but stood his ground. “With all due respect, sir, you have no right to talk like that to an Oturian recruit, Dragonlord or not. You know what damage you could-”

Igor continued to ignore Marco and rant at Iliana. “It's ludicrous that this was allowed to go so far! Why, if this were Golgosk...”

A deep voice spoke up. “But it's not, is it, Igor?” Behind Igor and Marco a very tall man leaned on a wall. He had wild, curly hair and a massive grin on his face.

“Dragonlord Alejandro,” Igor almost spat. “Do you mean to say you support this... this travesty?”

Alejandro's grin spread even further. “No, no, not at all. In fact I'm very much opposed to the travesty of separating a hatchling from the person it made Contact with.”

“The girl who stole Contact from my son! My son would have made Contact with that dragon!”

Alejandro shrugged. “Well, he's only human. Don't be too harsh on him.”

“It's not my son's fault that some girl in fancy dress jumped in front of him. Beat him away from his dragon!”

“No, of course it's not. And it's not- ah, I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name,” he said to Iliana.

“Iliana Cavotta, sir.”

Alejandro grinned again. “It isn't Iliana's fault that your son was trying to make Contact with a dragon clearly better suited to her. I hardly think she deserves to have you shout at her for it. Your son had bad luck; it happens. There are always more candidates than eggs, and that means a few candidates make Contact with dragons right in front of the rest.”

“You're avoiding the real problem, Alejandro,” Igor sneered. “She's a girl. That dragon is a leader. They don't make Contact with women.”

Alejandro shrugged, and grinned again. “Actually, if you will just look over there,” he pointed at Iliana and her dragon, who seemed unsure whether to whimper or growl, “you'll find an undeniable piece of evidence that apparently, they do.”

Igor sniffed haughtily. “A fluke. She somehow cheated!”

“Well, either way, that dragon made Contact with her. You can shout all you want, but it won't change a thing about that.” Alejandro turned to Iliana. “Iliana, I think your dragon finished its meal, so why don't you take him to your quarters and let him sleep?”

“This is not over yet,” Igor snapped, “this is not Segovia, you don't get to make this decision!”

Alejandro grinned. Iliana was starting to wonder if the man ever stopped grinning. “No, this is Oturia. Which means Remus has the final say. And speak of the devil!”

“Remus,” Igor snapped at the pale, blond man, “you must return the hatchling to the grounds, a terrible mistake has been made.”

“No!” Iliana still stood in front of her dragon, unsure where she was getting her courage from. All she knew was that she wanted to protect the hatchling more than she was afraid of the dragonlords. “He chose me, sir! I-I won't let you take him away from-”

“You dare contradict a dragonlord?” Igor asked. “I can't believe your audacity! We're righting this wrong right now!”

Alejandro touched Igor's shoulder to stop him advancing on Iliana, gently but firmly. “The only wrong here would be to separate these two. Remus, you have to see that.”

“A female riding a leader-dragon?” Igor sneered. “It goes against every tradition, Remus!”

“Then, clearly, the traditions are mistaken,” Alejandro said.

“Listen to that nonsense, Remus! The bright Segovian Sun rotted his brains! Now return the hatchling to the other candidates.”

“Remus,” Alejandro said, with what sounded like a serious undertone for the first time, “if you try to separate that girl and her dragon, I will offer her a transfer to Segovia immediately.”

“You will do no such thing!”

Remus sighed. “I'm afraid I agree with Alejandro,” he said, calmly. “Igor, if you want to discuss this, I propose we retire to-”

“I'm not retiring anywhere,” Igor snapped. “Can't you see this is wrong? There are no women who ride leader-dragons!”

“Correction:” Alejandro said with another wide grin, “there are now. We've just seen the first one make Contact.”

Remus gave the other dragonlords a warning glance. “Alejandro, Igor, please. All of us know how important and irreplaceable Contact is for raising a dragon. If we gave the dragon to someone else, he would have to raise and befriend the dragon without its aid. So even if I agreed with you, I still wouldn't take action. It'd only harm the dragon.”

“It's impossible for the bond to form between a woman and a leader-dragon, so it can just form a new one. That girl is stealing my son's dragon!”

Alejandro rolled his large eyes. “Just because it's unusual doesn't mean it's impossible or wrong.”

“Unusual? It has never happened! Not once in the history of the world!”

Alejandro grinned. “Actually, I think you'll find it's happened precisely once.”

“Enough,” Remus said firmly. “We're not separating a dragon and its rider simply because circumstances are unusual. And we're definitely not continuing this discussion here. Igor, Alejandro, if you want to talk more, we can do so in private.”

Igor glowered at Iliana, his heavy, grey brow deeply furrowed. “I can see it won't do any good. You're making a mistake, Remus, letting some fancypants girl and this curly-headed Segovian fool make a mockery of dragonriders.”

Igor stormed off, furiously, and Remus quickly set off in pursuit, trying to calm him down. Alejandro shrugged and rolled his eyes, giving Iliana a smile. “That man can get worked up over the smallest details. Well, take good care of your dragon,” he said, before following the other two dragonlords.

Iliana finally felt as if she could breathe again without them all crowding around. Marco gave her a pat on the shoulder, which she quickly recoiled from. “Don't worry, Iliana. Dragonlord Remus would never be persuaded by the likes of Igor Karkhosov.”

“Are- are you sure? And is it true? Am I the first girl to make Contact with a leader?”

“Yes,” Marco said, “I'm quite sure you are. Never heard of it before, anyway. But y'know, it's not such a big deal. Your dragon chose you, and that's the end of the story as far as anyone sensible is concerned. Now, what is a big deal is that he'll need his sleep. You can pick one of the empty quarters in the barracks.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You're welcome. Call me if you've got any problems, won't you? When he's asleep, you can join the feast upsta-” There were some sounds of a disturbance in the hatching room. “Oh, what'd they do now? Excuse me,” Marco quickly hurried back, muttering to himself.

“Come along,” Iliana said gently to her tiny little dragon. But the hatchling's eyes were wide with fear and worry and he whimpered softly.

“Hey,” Iliana knelt down, gently putting a hand on his warm, scaly head, “don't you worry about that man. Remus said you're staying with me, so it doesn't matter what some jerk from Golgosk thinks.”

The dragon looked up at her, a friendly light in his crimson eyes. As ugly and clumsy as he looked, those deep eyes already showed some of the beauty and majesty of the adult dragons. She gently lifted him up in her arms, stifling a groan as she found he was about the weight of a large dog, and started walking. “Let's get you to bed, little one.”

The hatchling already began closing his eyes, gently nestling in her arms. Iliana's heart was suddenly awash with love and warmth. “Are you projecting your emotions into me?” she asked, as she walked into a long corridor with many doors where Marco had pointed her. This was to be the home of her and the other recent recruits. “I suppose I should get used to that. It's how you communicate, after all.”

The hatchling made a little sound, almost like a cat's meow, but didn't open his eyes. Iliana walked to the corridor's far end, finding some unclaimed quarters nicely far away from any of the claimed ones. They were nice and roomy, and mostly empty. A delightfully soft-looking bed was already made and there was a large, shallow pit for an adult dragon to sleep that took up a good chunk of the room. There was also a large basket filled with feathers, exactly the right size for a young dragon to sleep. Iliana gently set hers down into it, where he immediately curled up and snuggled into the soft feathers as if cuddling its mother. Even so, he looked so tiny and vulnerable... She grabbed the thick blanket off the bed and covered her dragon with it, just in case. She smiled down at the already sleeping creature. Logically, she shouldn't care nearly as much about him as she did. She barely knew the little reptile, he was pretty ugly, and so far she had only seen him eat, sleep, and get her into trouble. Yet she couldn't help but love him.

If she wasn't so hungry, she'd have stayed right there and listened to her dragon's tiny breaths as he slept. Instead, she left her new quarters as quietly as she could and made her way through the colourful tunnels of Oturia, through the massive main cave, into a dining hall. Music, chatter, and the scent of delicious food oozed out of a door. Iliana took a deep breath and walked in, feeling very self-conscious among all the talking strangers. Every table had already been taken by someone, and the food was being served by servants, which meant she'd have to talk to those... She recognised several of her fellow candidates sitting at various tables, talking to each other and other dragonriders. Iliana walked around nervously, wishing there was a table for her and feeling she'd stand out like a sore thumb if she stood still anywhere or tried to butt into anyone else's conversation.

“Heeey! Iliana!” she jumped as a cheerful voice called out her name. Elise was waving at her from a small table near one of the stream vents. Giving the people who were now looking at her a nervous smile, Iliana made her way over and sat down opposite the other girl. At least Elise wasn't a complete stranger.

“Um, hi,” she said.

“Hello!” Elise said, with a bright smile, her face a bit red. “How'd it go for you?”

Iliana stiffened. “Go? How'd what-”

“The hatching, Illy! How'd it go? Did you make Contact? Are you a dragonrider?” She gasped. “You have to try the mutton, by the way! And the wine too! Hold on, I'll order for you, Illy.”

“It's Iliana...” she said as Elise quickly ordered for her with a servant and poured both of them a glass of wine. She doubted if it was Elise's first glass.

“Wha?” Elise turned back after ordering. “Right, right, right, Iliana. So what about the dragons? Did you get one?”

Iliana plucked at the frills on her sleeve. “I did make Contact, yes.”

Elise beamed. “Wonderful! Aren't dragons amazing, Illy- uh, yana? Oh, mine is so very cute, I wish she wasn't asleep so she could be here too! You know, I bet dragons love roast mutton.”

“I'm... sure they do,” Iliana said as Elise paused the flood of words to eat and drink.

After downing her glass of wine, Elise's face was a bit redder than before and her eyes seemed a little less focussed. “Speaking of, what's your dragon? Fighter or speedster?”

Iliana blushed, almost wishing she'd made Contact with a different dragon so people wouldn't take so much notice. “Er, neither, actually.”

“A sneaker, then?”

“Not exactly...”

Realisation slowly dawned on Elise's face. “...You made Contact with a leader?”

Iliana nodded slightly, feeling cold needles sting her scalp.

“Amazing! That's got to be a one of a kind kind of thing! You must be the black goat in the henhouse! Well...” she said with a giggle, “either that, or Marco doesn't know what he's talking about.”

“...I'm sure he does...”

Elise frowned. “Hey, what's wrong?”

Iliana shrugged, avoiding eye contact. “Just heard that before, that's all...”

“Oh, I'm sorry, I should've realised. Must be annoying to have everyone say it's so unusual! Well, congratulations on making Contact, then! Aren't dragons wonderful? We're dragonriders, Illy, dragonriders!”

Iliana smiled, glad enough to no longer be the subject of the conversation that she didn't even correct her name. “Congrats.”

Elise grinned cheekily. “I told you those classes were boring and pointless, didn't I?”

Iliana raised an eyebrow. “You did, but I don't see how it's relevant. You followed them, after all.”

Elise emptied her glass in a single go and put it down on the table overly hard. “Yeah, but it's not like I listened to them. It all went in one ear, out of mind. Making Contact was easy, anyway: I just did what came natural, and it happened. That's ultimately what it was about, wasn't it? Our emotions, our real selves making Contact with the dragons, not tricking them into it.”

Iliana took a sip from her glass and a small bite of her mutton. It really was very good. “Marco's classes were hardly about teaching us to trick the dragons. He simply gave us useful knowledge. Not to mention due caution. It's a life-altering decision, after all; hardly something you should jump into because it seems fun.”

Elise shrugged and pulled a face. “That's what I did. Sometimes you've just got to go with whatever feels right, you know.”

“Clearly a well thought-out philosophy. Nothing could go wrong with that.”

“Well, you can spend your entire life worrying, or you can actually live,” Elise said in between bites of her own food.

That wasn't a question, so Iliana didn't feel the need to answer it. She used the lull in the conversation to eat as well. But before she knew it, her dinner was interrupted again, this time by the tall, gangly dragonrider who'd flown her to Oturia.

“Iliana,” he said by way of greeting. “I heard you'd made Contact! I knew you would all along.”

Iliana didn't believe him, but felt it would be rude to say that. “Yes, I did.”

Michael grinned. “Well, congrats! ...Aren't you going to introduce me to your pretty friend?”

“Elise? She's not my friend, more of an acquaintance.” Even as she said it, Iliana realised that was quite rude, and tried to recover. “Um, I-I agree that she's very pretty, though, and, er, it's not that I don't like her, I just only met her very recently. Um, Elise, this is Michael.”

Fortunately, it seemed like Elise hadn't taken offence. In fact, she was smiling at Iliana rather happily and didn't even look away from her when she greeted Michael. In the silence that followed, Iliana had to stifle her laughter as she realised Elise's dyed hair was only a little bit redder than Michael's natural hair. Their haircut was also quite similar, in fact.

“So uh,” Michael said, “you girls are both dragonriders, then?”

“Yes, we are,” Iliana said.

“Um, well, so am I. In fact, I've got dragonrider duties to attend to right now! The world won't protect itself. So, er, I have to go. See you!”

As Michael walked away, Iliana gave an apologetic smile to Elise. “Sorry. He sometimes says strange things. His jacket wasn't properly stitched either.”

Elise raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were rubbish at tailoring.”

Iliana cocked her head. “Well, maybe not rubbish. Just not that good. Making clothes is actually not a very interesting thing to do. It's why I joined the Explorers' Guild.”

“Ooh, how was that?”

Iliana shrugged. “Fine. Didn't really get far enough to go on any expeditions or anything. It could get pretty boring, really. I guess now I'll never find out what it would've been like.”

“So what'd you do, then?”

“Assist Master Contomera. Draw a lot of maps. Sometimes I got to go out into the mountains to investigate monsters.”

“Exciting!”

Iliana shrugged. “Sometimes. Honestly, there's a lot less seeing what's over the horizon and a lot more painfully meticulous research in dry, poorly-written old tomes than you'd think. Or want.”

Elise grinned slyly. “IIIII see... So you're not impervious to boredom after all.”

Iliana rolled her eyes. “You thought I was just because I pay attention to Marco's lectures?”

Elise pulled a face. “You could've fooled me.”

“You really should have tried to pay attention. All that information about dragons, and being a dragonrider, and the way Oturia is run...”

“And we got to experience none of it, we just had some guy telling us about them. But now, we've got dragons, Illy, and we'll get to do all that ourselves!”

“Yes, I was aware of that,” Iliana said, though she couldn't stop a proud, happy smile as she thought of the little hatchling sleeping in his basket of feathers.

–

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, time to wake up! I'd like you and your dragons to gather outside in twenty minutes!” Iliana was startled from a far too brief sleep by a deep voice's commands in the corridor behind the door of her quarters.

“Twenty minutes?!” Iliana blurted out, instantly awake.

Her dragon – and a could of butterflies took flight in her stomach at the realisation that she had a dragon - emitted a confused squeak as it stuck its head out of its feathery sleeping basket.

“No time to lose!” She dived straight into the shower for the fastest wash of her life before rushing to put on her clothes. “How does he expect me to get properly dressed on a timetable like that?” she muttered, buttoning up her waistcoat.

“Mruh?” Her dragon pawed at the drab, brown overall in the closet that had come with the quarters.

Iliana smirked. “If you think I'm going to wear that, you've got a lot to learn about your human. But I don't suppose a dragon would have much use for a sense of sartorial style.” Iliana looked at the mechanical clock hanging on the wall. “C'mon, our time is nearly up,” she left her quarters, still tying her cravat, while her dragon followed her curiously and hungrily.

Five of her fellow new dragonriders were already standing around Marco, blocking the view of the small man but not his deep voice. “You're late, Iliana.”

“Sorry sir,” she said, nervously playing around with the frills on her sleeves. “You... didn't give me much time.”

“And you're not wearing your overalls either.”

“I prefer to wear my own clothes.”

“We've got plenty of dirty work to do this morning. It's not a good idea to wear clothes that nice.”

“I'd still prefer to wear this...”

“Well, they're your clothes, so I suppose it's none of my business. Now, that's six... We're still missing someone.”

Iliana looked around. Their was a curious absence of fluorescent red hair. “Elise, sir.”

Marco sighed. “Who else? Someone go get her please.”

When Elise had joined them, Marco continued. “Now that we're finally all here,” he said, “let me welcome you to being dragonriders. Although you'll be properly welcomed this evening in the naming ceremony. Before that, however, I'm going to start teaching you to take care of your dragons, and the first step is to feed them. They will need to feed frequently when they're this young, which is why you'll get up at 6 every morning for the next few months to prepare their meals.”

Elise groaned.

“Yes, miss Berlioz, 6. Incidentally, you will help the servants do the dishes after lunch.”

“What?!” Elise said. “Just because I overslept a little?”

“Yes. Your dragon can't wait for your care. It's very important that you realise that. Now, because this is the first time and we had the feast yesterday, I'm being lenient on you and giving you only a minor punishment. Don't let it happen again.”

Elise gave him a hateful look as he continued. “We'll start by preparing your dragons' food. Just for today, we've already done part of the work for you: you only need to chop the meat into bite-sized chunks. In the future, you'll need to cut it off the bones of cattle as well.” He paused with a small smile as several people made disgusted sounds. “Being a dragonrider isn't all glamour, ladies and gentlemen. Any questions before we get to work?”

“Yeah,” Elise said, “what about our meals? Do we get any food today?”

“Yes. After you've fed your dragon you can have breakfast. They need food a lot more than you do.”

“That's debatable...” Elise muttered.

“Now come along, ladies and gentlemen.”

“Grumpy old git,” Elise muttered a while later, when she and Iliana were chopping raw meat into chunks, their hungrily awaiting dragons crowding eagerly at their feet and projecting their own feelings of hunger into their riders. Elise was chopping with rather more vigour and force than needed.

Iliana grinned. “Grumpy, you say?”

“Yeah! And a tyrant too.”

Iliana rolled her eyes. “If you say so. No.” Her dragon shirked back from the non-cut slab of meat it had been about to eat, looking guilty. “That's the third time I've had to stop you, you little rascal. I don't even know how you think you're going to manage to eat that.”

“My dragon hasn't tried once,” Elise said a little smugly.

“Clearly she gets her patience and discipline from you. HEY!” Iliana's dragon had tried to pull the piece of raw meat Iliana was cutting off the table, slapping it against her side, where the gross greasiness instantly created a wet, dark spot on her frock coat that would be impossible to get out.

“I did warn you it would get messy,” Marco said as he passed by.

“See?” Elise whispered. “Nasty old grump, he is. Mind you, I don't plan to be bugged by him for too long.”

“What do you mean?” Iliana asked, cutting up the big chunk that had ruined her coat. She couldn't quite manage to be angry with her dragon even now, her frown at him melting away in a moment.

“Well, this Roost is not exactly paradise, in case you hadn't noticed. It's cold, the air is thin, our teacher is a grump, and we're stuck on a mountaintop in the middle of nowhere. First chance I get, I'm transferring to Segovia.”

Iliana raised an eyebrow. “I don't think you'll be allowed to until you've actually learnt to take care of your dragon.”

Elise paid her no heed, talking on with a blissful grin on her freckled face. “Seriously, this Roost is a total dump compared to lovely Segovia. Have you ever been there?”

“Can't say I have. I understand it's on a tropical island.”

“Yeah! It's always nice and warm, and they go swimming with their dragons every day, and the food is amazing too!”

“You seemed to quite enjoy the food here too.”

Elise blushed a little. “Well, I suppose the food in Oturia is also good. But the point stands: we're stuck working hard on a mountain, they're sipping drinks on a tropical beach.”

“Somehow, I suspect they do a little more than that in Segovia. And if it's heat you want, you could go to Trisiti instead.”

Elise grinned. “Smoke and ash don't agree with my lungs very well.”

Iliana raised an eyebrow. “So you became a dragonrider.”

Elise stuck out her tongue.

They had to feed their dragons five times that day, though thankfully the meat they'd cut in the morning was enough for all five meals. After the second meal, they took the hatchlings to a pool, thankfully underground and heated by one of the many steam-driven machines in Oturia, to wash them. The only ones there were the seven of them, and other new dragonriders, whose dragons were up to a year older and already had downy feathers. Once the dragons could fly, they didn't need to wash in Oturia itself any more but could go to any lake or river in the vicinity.

After washing, they put their dragons to sleep and had two hours off before the afternoon lectures. Iliana put them to good use, writing a letter to Master Contomera explaining that she'd made Contact and wouldn't return as an apprentice, and asking him whether he could send her belongings to Oturia – especially her clothes; her current outfit was quite dirty after a day of taking care of her dragon. Her second letter, to her parents, was harder to write. She had to explain far more, as she hadn't told them yet that she was a candidate dragonrider, seeing as it was more likely she wouldn't make Contact than that she would. She didn't want her parents to get worked up about nothing, or to keep bringing it up if she didn't make Contact. Elise acted like that had been a very odd thing to do, however, when Iliana joined her at lunch.

After lunch, Marco gave a lecture on dragon anatomy. He had brought his own dragon, Puigmal, to serve as an example. Iliana fond the lecture fascinating, and even Elise was at least distracted enough by looking at the dragon to not constantly try to talk to Iliana. During the next lecture, however, which was all about the basics of combat, Elise became completely unable to sit still or be quiet.

After the lectures, their dragons had woken up, and were given the third meal of the day. In the afternoon, Marco taught them how to properly treat their skins, explaining that the growth of down and feathers could be quite irritating and that they needed a lot of care during this stage. After the fourth meal and the new riders' own dinner, they would normally have the evening off. Today, however, there was a special ceremony.

The seven of them were lined up outside, with their dragons, on the snowy summit as the Sun set behind distant peaks. Iliana's dragon nervously poked at her legs, but with a stern look and a whispered word she told him to settle down. All seven of Oturia's new riders, and their dragons, stood in a line. Remus, wearing a magnificent purple mantle and an unusually fancy blue and red riding outfit emblazoned with Oturia's symbol stood in front of them. Quayrat sat behind him. A number of riders and lower members of the Oturian Order were watching, but the main audience consisted of dragons. It seemed like every dragon in Oturia had come to watch, sitting on ridges, small peaks, steam vents, chimneys, and some simply circling overhead.

“Ever since mankind first befriended dragonkind,” Remus spoke, “it has been the happy duty of every dragonlord to welcome new riders and their dragons into his Order. Today, we welcome seven of them. Elise Berlioz, please step forward.”

Elise did so, with a bit of a proud smirk. Her dragon followed hesitantly. “Elise Berlioz,” Remus said. “Do you swear to serve and protect your dragon, the Oturian Order, its subjects, and the world in that order?”

Elise kneeled. “I do.”

Remus drew his sword and tapped her on the shoulder. “Then rise, dragonrider. You may name your dragon.”

“Zapatilla!”

Quayrat spread his wings and roared, a roar that was echoed by all the other dragons, the deafening noise erupting all over the peak. Remus waited a moment for it to calm down before continuing. “Elise and Zapatilla, welcome to the Oturian Order!”

Elise walked back into the line, giving Iliana a radiant grin. “Iliana Cavotta, please step forward,” Remus said.

Iliana felt her heart beat in her throat, suddenly quite conscious of all the eyes on her. She tucked her cravat into her waistcoat more properly and swallowed a lump. Her dragon gave her knee a small prod and she finally walked forwards, her legs made of lead.

“Iliana Cavotta,” Remus said. Was it just her imagination or did he look less happy and more worried than he had with Elise? “Do you swear to serve and protect your dragon, the Oturian Order, its subjects, and the world in that order?”

Iliana took a deep breath. It was a big question... She would've protected her dragon no matter what, but was she really cut out to try to protect the rest of the world? It was such a big place, and could probably take care of itself... “I... I do.”

Iliana fell onto one knee, almost wincing in pain as she did so quite a bit too quickly. The sword had touched her shoulder before she was even aware of it. “Then rise, dragonrider. You may name your dragon.”

Iliana looked into the crimson eyes of her dragons and found a smile on her face. “Syderet,” she said, recalling a name from an old book.

The next moment, her ears were blown off by Quayrat and the rest of the dragons welcoming Syderet and herself.

“Iliana and Syderet, welcome to the Oturian Order!”

4: Syderet

No Wings was a strange dragon. Syderet had seen that from the start. First of all, she obviously had no wings. She didn't have many feathers either, though that was less weird, as Syderet himself didn't have any feathers at all. The feathers she did have, however, were odd ones. Her brown crest was oddly wide, and its feathers were very thin and hung limply along the sides of her head. He hadn't seen her raise it once, even when she was angry or happy. Other than the crest, her face was featherless, but quite different from others dragons'. Their skin was grey and somewhat scaly, while No Wings' skin was brown and soft, her face flat and kind, with no snout at all.

Other than her head, she was mostly covered in feathers of various shades of blue, but those were even weirder than her crest. She could take those feathers off and put on different ones, suddenly looking like quite a different dragon. Syderet had wondered if that was how he was supposed to get feathers too, so he had tried putting some of her feathers on. No Wings had just laughed about it and taken them off again.

No Wings and the other wingless dragons were so strange that Syderet hadn't realised they were dragons at first. The memories were cloudy and vague, but he could remember that he'd thought they were food once, until he had looked into No Wings' mind and discovered she was a dragon. The wingless dragons all went around on two legs, and none of them could fly without the help of a normal dragon. They also never moved their crests and couldn't look into each others' minds. Instead, they always made noises at each other. Each normal dragon on the mountain had befriended one wingless dragon. This was probably so they could still fly without wings.

Syderet loved to explore the mountain, both its inside and its outside, but No Wings didn't want him to unless she was there. It was one of the many strange things she did. She ate far less meat and more plants than a dragon should, and she always cut Syderet's food into small bits, making him wait, instead of just letting him swallow it down already. When she thought Syderet was asleep, she would sit still and listen to Puigmal's friend making noises for a long time. This was the best time to explore the mountain on his own. When the Sun was down and Syderet was about to sleep, she would often stare at a pile of white leaves with little black squiggles on them. It was very boring. Syderet had once taken a bite out of one of the piles of leaves out of curiosity. It was not very tasty and No Wings became angry at him, so he did not do that again. But No Wings didn't seem to understand what the piles of leaves were, because she kept looking at them every day.

Syderet was obviously No Wings' best friend, but she was friends with some other dragons too. Zapatilla's rider was one of them. Syderet liked her. She was a female with a fiery red crest, and just like No Wings, she could change the feathers on her body. Hers were often in bright colours and there were fewer of them than on No Wings. Maybe she was younger than No Wings and hadn't grown the feathers on her hind legs and the top of her chest yet. Fiery Crest loved to do things, whether it was playing, eating, running, singing, or just being with other dragons. She didn't like it when No Wings did boring things either, so sometimes she and Syderet would work together to make No Wings stop staring at the white leaves.

No Wings also got along well with Puigmal's friend, the small, dark wingless dragon with the nice voice, even though Syderet thought she spent far too much time listening to him, and Fiery Crest didn't like him either. There was also a tall, thin dragon who was friends with Bheithir whom she sometimes spent time with, though she thought he was a bit stupid. But most impressive of all was Quayrat. Quayrat was the greatest, wisest, and coolest dragon of them all, and surely the leader of all dragons, winged or not. So when they ran into him one day and No Wings warmly greeted him and gave his feathers a friendly ruffle, Syderet was flabbergasted: he was too in awe of Quayrat to even dare to look at him himself. He was very proud to be friends with No Wings after that.

One night, Syderet woke up with awful itching and pain all over his body. He tried to move, but it wasn't because the feathers in his bed were pricking him. They rarely did, anyway, because they were nice feathers and made him feel like he was cuddling No Wings, even though her feathers were very different. This night, they didn't bring him comfort, because blue-grey spots had appeared all over his body, spots of down that hurt and itched. Syderet got out of bed and squeaked at No Wings: she had to help him! After she'd finally woken up and made sure she was alright, she tried to go to sleep again, but Syderet wouldn't let her: he was in pain, and she had to help. They ended up staying up together, which was good because Syderet couldn't sleep anyway. No Wings probably felt the same pain too, because she was acting quite grumpy for the rest of the night and the day after that. Pain and itching could easily make a dragon grumpy.

The other young dragons also had coloured spots of down now, and some of their wingless friends seemed quite grumpy too. The only one who didn't have the spots was Zapatilla, who had in fact turned entirely red with down overnight. Fiery Crest happily boasted about it to the other wingless dragons, while Zapatilla herself was a little shy of all the attention. Puigmal's friend made No Wings check his entire body and treat his skin with some kind of ointment, talking about stopping something called 'ingrown feathers'.

The pain and itching had stopped by the evening, so Syderet felt happy and wanted to play with No Wings, but she was all growly and kept trying to go to bed. She was probably confused: it wasn't time to sleep, but to play; Syderet could feel it inside. So he grabbed the sturdy, brown feathers she put on her rear feet when she went outside and threw them about, catching them in his mouth. No Wings got up from her nest and made loud noises: she wanted to play too! Syderet threw the other sturdy brown feathers at her, and they hit her in the face. Suddenly, she didn't want to play any more, and was in fact very angry, so Syderet decided to go to sleep after all. The next day, No Wings had a bruise above her left eye! Had something attacked her while Syderet was asleep? He knew he shouldn't have gone to sleep when it was playtime!

Some time after his down had grown, Syderet and No Wings were walking to their home when they were stopped by a wingless dragon and his winged friend, who didn't have his feathers yet. Syderet had never met a younger dragon before. He was curious: the other dragon was much smaller than him. Had he hatched from a small egg? But then the wingless dragon, who actually looked more like a lizard than a dragon, started making nasty-sounding noises at No Wings. Syderet didn't understand; did the lizard not know that No Wings was both wonderful and strong and that he shouldn't do that? She was clearly in charge.

No Wings stood her ground, yet Syderet could feel her fear, and the lizard advanced on her. Syderet couldn't believe it! He growled and roared and tried to bite the lizard, lashing at him with claws, wings, and teeth. The lizard gave a high-pitched scream, noticing Syderet only now. He took stumbled back, snarling at No Wings. Syderet snarled at him, the only reason he didn't continue attacking No Wings telling him not to with a firm paw on his shoulder. No Wings snapped at the lizard, and then he ran away with his winged friend. No Wings breathed a sigh of relief and gave Syderet a warm hug. He didn't know why, but he was happy to cuddle her back.

–

Iliana trudged through the snow, the brightness of it setting the entire Oturian peak aglow with a ghostly light in the dark night. The cold cut straight through cloth, skin, flesh, and bone, the moderate amount of heat that built up around the peak at day completely gone. Every morning, the servants had to clean away icicles that had formed on the steam vents, as even their heat wasn't enough to keep them from slowly freezing over. There were very few dragons still outside, most of them huddled up in their warm quarters. Iliana didn't blame them; she'd be doing the same thing if it wasn't for Elise. She followed the walkways over the quiet, icy peak, to the tower that poked out of the eastern edge of Oturia. She opened its heavy, wooden door.

Inside, it was merely cold, not frigid. The tower reeked more of dust, old paper, and stale mould than even the deepest parts of Master Contomera's library ever had. Unsurprising, as the walls were lined with massive amounts of Oturia's dusty old records, going back all the way to the days when it was a monastery. In the middle of the room stood a large, stony table buried under piles and piles of records. A weak light shone over it all, the energy stored in the intricate clockwork at its base almost worn out. A red-haired figure lay slumped over the table, shivering in her sleep.

Iliana took her frock coat off and gently draped it around Elise's shoulders. “Elise? Wake up,” she said, shaking her a little.

She opened one large, brown eye. “Illy?”

“Iliana,” she said with a smile. “Or Iliana the great diplomat, if you prefer. I'm pleased to inform you your sentence has been commuted.”

“It's travelled to its job?” Elise mumbled, her eyes still barely open.

“Not quite. You can go to bed now, and you don't have to come back here tomorrow and the day after.”

Elise opened an eye further. “Really?”

“Really. C'mon, let's get you to your bed. Zapatilla's been sick with worry all day, you know.” She helped Elise stand up, but to her surprise and slight annoyance, the girl didn't let go of her, holding herself up in a sleepy stupor by keeping her arm around Iliana's shoulder in a sleepy half-hug that felt entirely too close for Iliana's comfort. She took a deep breath, suppressing her annoyance as best she could.

“Thanks,” Elise mumbled, her head resting on Iliana's shoulder as they left the tower. “Marco would've had me sorting those stupid archives for days if it wasn't for you...”

Iliana was suddenly very grateful for Elise's warm body leaning on her as she found just how much colder the outside was without her frock coat. “To be honest, I think he was already planning to reduce your sentence himself. He didn't need much convincing once he'd calmed down.”

Elise smirked. “I really got him angry that time, didn't I?”

“Yeah, and I don't blame him. Tripping him into dragon dung really wasn't very nice.”

“I saw my chance and grabbed it,” Elise said, quite a bit of pride in her voice. “The place would get boring without the occasional prank. And the old bore deserves it anyway.”

At last, they reached the inside again. The main cave was still busy, full of humans and dragons, and thankfully warm. “If you say so, but if you just trip someone into dung, they'll know who did it. You could spare yourself a lot of trouble by being a bit more subtle.”

That piqued Elise's interest. “Subtle?”

“Well,” Iliana said, with an air of indifference, “if I wanted to prank someone, I'd go with something that would be hard to trace back to me.”

Elise raised an eyebrow as she looked at Iliana, suddenly quite a bit more awake. “Like what?”

Iliana shrugged, then made a face as if she'd just had an idea. “Well... I might go with something like... stealing the questions to our upcoming test.”

“Ambitious and impossible, I like it.”

Iliana grinned. “Not that impossible. It just needs someone to distract Marco. Someone who he'd never expect to be in on it, of course, so she doesn't get the blame.”

“Like who?”

“I have no idea. On an entirely unrelated note, I've been getting very interested about whether dragons descend from reptiles, birds, or another group of animals entirely. I think I'm going to bombard Marco with a thousand questions in the corridor, just after the final lecture tomorrow. While his office is still unlocked.”

Elise grinned back at Iliana, a sparkle in her eyes. “He'd never suspect his favourite pupil had intentionally distracted him.”

“Of course he wouldn't. Now, if you were to do this, you'd have to make sure he doesn't notice the questions are missing. Otherwise, he'd just scrap the test. Besides, you'd be a prime suspect. Now, fortunately, I happen to know a way to return them safely,” Iliana lied.

“How?”

“Don't worry about it, I'll take care of it. Just leave the questions in my quarters after you've checked them yourself. Even if he catches me, I can easily make an excuse.”

“Wouldn't it be wiser if I didn't take the questions with me, but just memorised them, then told you later?”

“No time. You need to be out of that office as soon as possible. It'll be alright, trust me.”

They had reached Elise's quarters now. Iliana opened the door, finding Zapatilla among the feathers in her basket. She guided Elise to her bed. “Alright, it's a deal. You know, there's a lot more to you than meets the eye. You're a right wolf in fancy clothing.”

Iliana quickly removed her coat from Elise's shoulders as she gently lowered her into her bed. She was clearly too sleepy to bother switching into sleepwear, and Iliana was hardly going to help her with that. “Just be nice around Marco after that, alright? He's not such a bad guy, you know.”

“Maybe...” Elise mumbled, already shutting her eyes. “Thanks for the help... Your coat was super-nice...”

“I know, that's why I wear it.” Iliana turned off the light as she left Elise's messy quarters. “Sleep well, Elise.”

–

All the new dragonriders were gathered in the lecture theatre for their test; not just the seven of Iliana's own group, but also those who'd made Contact with the newest clutch, and several older ones. All of them had their own teachers, some of whom were present to watch over the test being taken. Most of Iliana's fellow recruits were obviously nervous and scared about the test. Iliana herself was nervous for other reasons; she knew there wouldn't be a test, after all.

Marco stepped into the lecture hall, a furious stiffness in his every step. He briefly confirmed with one of the other teachers, a tall woman, before addressing the recruits: “I'm very sorry, ladies and gentlemen, but we're not doing the test today. It seems one of you has decided to take an early look at the questions.”

Shocked whispers went through the crowd. Elise shot up and looked at Iliana immediately, her eyes burning with anger. Iliana didn't dare meet her gaze, her stomach knotting with a pang of guilt.

“I'm sorry to say I had to direct the servants to search all your quarters. The good news is: we found the culprit.”

For a moment, Iliana wondered if she'd done the right thing. With Elise's betrayed stare on her, it didn't seem nearly as clear-cut as when she'd planted the questions last night...

“Vladimir Karkhosov,” Marco spoke in his iciest voice. Iliana was pleased to see Igor Karkhosov's son almost jump out of his chair with shock. “You will get no points for this test, and you'll be helping the servants with the dung for the coming month.”

“But sir-”

“No excuses, Karkhosov,” Marco said. Iliana had the impression he could barely restrain himself from shouting. “As for the rest of you, you've got the day off while we create a new test for tomorrow.”

As everyone started getting up – Vladimir Karkhosov running down to the teachers to try and explain he was innocent to what looked like no success – Iliana breathed a sigh of relief. Guilt over all the extra work she'd put their teachers through gnawed at her, but it was quickly drowned in glee as she saw Vladimir trying frantically to explain himself. Naturally, she didn't let her mirth show too much. She left to pick up Syderet at the underground lake where they'd left the dragons to bathe by themselves, a cheerful spring in her step. At least, until Elise caught up to her.

“Hey, you!” the girl snapped, grabbing Iliana by the arm roughly. Iliana was rather taken aback by the fury on her reddened face. She'd seen Elise angry plenty of times, but never at her. “Mind explaining how those questions ended up in Vladimir's quarters?”

“Um... Er, questions?”

Elise rolled her eyes. “Yes, the questions I left in your quarters, trusting you'd check them and return them in secret. As you promised. Now, how'd they end up with Vladimir?”

Iliana's triumphant feeling was gone by now, knocked out of her. “Well, after I found them, I planted them in his quarters. I knew we'd be inspected as soon as they were found missing.”

“That's what I thought,” Elise snapped.

“I know what it looks like,” Iliana said, “but I did it with good cause.”

“Oh, really?” Elise raised an eyebrow in pure scepsis.

“He threatened me,” Iliana said. “He said he'd... Well, he threatened me. And his father tried to take Syderet off me just because I'm a girl, and might still try to do so. I had to defend myself.”

“Defend? In what way does framing Vladimir protect you? You're hardly going to get him thrown out of Oturia or placate his dad.”

“I can try,” Iliana said, a bit harsher than she'd planned. “And even if I don't succeed, with him in lower standing, he's in less of a position to be able to hurt me.”

“Nonsense! That was revenge, plain and simple. I saw you, you were enjoying every moment of it. You felt hurt, so you just wanted to hurt him back, and his dad by proxy.”

“Of course I didn't,” Iliana lied. As stupid as it was, his words really had hurt her. Falling asleep had taken her ages that evening, as she was kept awake by seething, impotent rage and fear, thinking about his threats and insults. That didn't mean it was about revenge. It was just that she knew she could count on very little help from anyone else as long as it was just his word against hers, no matter whether he'd stick to insults and verbal threats or make true on them. She expected she'd get told she was being hysterical and overreacting, that she should simply shrug it off. If they didn't blame her for making Contact with Sydereth and provoking Vladimir's hostility in the first place. Even if she could convince anyone who mattered, they still wouldn't do anything. You just had to look at a map to see the danger of angering Igor Karkhosov. Oturia was caught right between Golgosk and Sheliak, where one of Vladimir Karkhosov's older brothers was Dragonlord. All of Oturia could support Iliana, and they still couldn't do a thing about Vladimir, for fear of provoking a war Oturia would definitely lose.

“Yes, you did,” Elise said. “Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words can hurt as much as a big stick.”

“It's not about revenge,” Iliana said, trying to convince both Elise and herself. “It's about planning for the future, gaining a potential advantage over the Karkhosovs.”

Elise rolled her eyes. “Illy, you don't have to justify it. You can do to lizard-boy whatever you want, the guy's a jerk and probably deserved it. But leave me out of it! You manipulated me, got me to do your dirty dishes.”

“I didn't-” Iliana began. “...Well, I did. Sorry.”

“You could've just told me what it was about, you know! I might even have helped you if you'd just come clear about it. But no, you lied to me!”

Iliana swallowed. “Are... Are you going to tell Marco what I did?”

Elise rolled her eyes. “Of course not. But I'm still super annoyed at you!”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“Yeah,” Elise said sharply, “you'd better be grateful. It's going to take you some work to get me to forgive you!”

They walked into the room of the underground lake in a tense silence. Syderet excitedly jumped up against Iliana, despite her protests, while Zapatilla rubbed up against Elise. “I'll take care of Zapa again, next time you're in trouble,” Iliana offered.

Elise sniffed the air haughtily.

“And do my best to get Marco to be lenient,” she added with a smile, “and anything else you ask.”

Elise raised an eyebrow. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

“You'll lend me your wardrobe?”

Iliana swallowed, thinking of Elise wearing her clothes and realising they wouldn't survive a day intact. “Er... Well... Alright then...”

Elise giggled, prodding Iliana's side as Syderet excitedly played around with another dragon. “Don't worry, I was only joking. Well, and checking whether you really meant it.”

“You got me. Syderet, leave Zapa alone.” The downy blue dragon had been trying to involve Zapatilla, who was trying to hide behind Elise's legs, in the game he and the other dragon were playing.

Elise's anger was mostly gone by now. She seemed more concerned, if anything. “Illy, if Vladimir Karkhosov gets nasty again, just tell me, alright? I'll punch him right in the hooter.”

Iliana grinned. “That's one way to deal with trouble.”

“Yeah, and a much simpler and better one. He who lives by the sword deserves another bad turn coming around, but that doesn't mean you have to overcomplicate things. Just tell me and... Boom.”

Iliana resisted the urge to correct Elise's brutal mutilation of proverbs. “I'm, er, sure it won't be necessary,” she said, more because she knew it would bring Elise more trouble than Vladimir than because she actually believed it.

–

“Hey, Iliana!” a nasal voice sneered. Iliana pretended not to hear him, unlikely as that was in an empty corridor with no noise except the slight hiss of the steam in the pipes, and quickened her pace. But it didn't take Vladimir long to catch up to her. For the second time in a week, a hand grabbed her hard around the upper arm and pulled her to a stop, but this time, it was a far more bony and less friendly one. “Going deaf, Iliana?”

“Let go of me,” Iliana said, trying to keep her voice level even as the taller boy loomed over her threateningly.

“Why?” he asked. “I just want to have a nice chat with you.”

Iliana didn't say anything, but forced herself to look up into his face defiantly.

“You framed me, Iliana.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

Vladimir tightened his grip on her arm. “I think you do, and you're going to admit it right now!”

“I don't think so,” Iliana said, sounding braver than she felt. “Let me go, Vladimir.”

“The dragon you stole is asleep, isn't it?” he whispered threateningly. “We're the only ones here, Iliana.”

“Syderet may be asleep, but I'm just on my way to pick him up for flight training. Marco is expecting me, Vladimir, and will wonder where I've been if you waste too much of my time.”

“Going to give me attitude, are you?” Vladimir sneered.

Hot rage sizzled in Iliana's heart. “Yes, maybe I am.”

“Well, you'd better watch out. The dragon you stole isn't here to protect you, and-”

“And if you keep squeezing my arm like that, it's going to get bruised. If it is, Marco's going to want to know who's at fault, and I don't think you're in much of a position to win a 'your word against mine' situation right now. I hear the Dragonlord himself chewed you out after you got caught cheating.”

With a furious scowl, the lizard-boy let go of her arm, taking her implied threat. “My father will back me up. That dragon and Marco can't always protect you, Iliana.”

Iliana was ready to punch his arrogant gob herself, but forced herself to remain calm, burying her hands, balled to fists, in her pockets. “Good thing I don't need their protection then, creep!”

“We'll see about that. Watch you step.”

Iliana walked off before the fire clouding her mind could take over. She slammed the door of her quarters behind her, making Syderet jump out of his basket with a loud yelp. He searched the room for intruders in a panicky huff as Iliana tried to calm him down. She was already feeling worried about the harsh choice of words and challenges she had made in her anger. It was bound to only lead to more trouble.

Once Syderet had calmed down, they had to hurry, or they'd be late. Iliana gave him a quick hug and ruffled his down as she put on her warmest frock coat. Syderet was quite confused by now from Iliana's conflicting emotions, which she was still trying to suppress. It was one of the downsides of living with dragons: to them, projecting your emotions into others and reading their emotions in return was simply normal communication. After feeding him a small meal, Iliana took Syderet to the peak. He mewled grumpily and projected an annoying hunger into her mind. “I know, I know. I can't let you have a big meal, or you'll get too lazy for flight training.”

Syderet muttered as they emerged into the icy mountain air outside. It was mostly still and quiet up here, although the occasional gust blew small flurries of snow about. Iliana and her fellow recruits gathered around Marco and Puigmal, his grey and red dragon, on the edge of the peak. They were quite far away from the busy landing areas, the chimneys, and the steam vents, where the somewhat delicate lungs of the young dragons were in danger. Beyond the edge, not far off, were endless mountains stretching into infinity, their peaks glistening brightly in the sunlight. It was a clouded in the valleys, but not up here, the clouds forming a bright blanket covering everything but the tops of the mountains.

Marco spoke up, even his deep voice sounding a bit hollow in the massive expanse of thin, cold air. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to wing training.”

“I thought it was flight training,” Elise muttered.

“One is necessary before we can do the other, miss Berlioz. Your dragons' wings and muscles aren't strong enough yet to lift them, let alone you as well. We have to train their strength before the proper feathers come through. Thankfully, they have an instinct to do so themselves, we just want to encourage that instinct. Puigmal, if you please?”

Puigmal spread out great, grey wings and flapped them up and down, the wind rushing about. “Please instruct your dragons to flap their wings like this, ladies and gentlemen.”

Most of their dragons didn't need much encouragement to copy Puigmal, though none of them made much wind. They flapped their still quite stubby wings about ineffectively, wobbling a bit. Syderet got a little too enthusiastic and fell over onto his back from their weight. Giggling, Iliana helped him back up, brushing the snow out of the quite confused dragon's down. Syderet grumpily refused to flap his wings again.

“Come on, you little fuzzball,” Iliana said with a chuckle. “No need to be so embarrassed. It's not that hard. Here, just do what I do.” She grabbed her coat tails and started flapping her own arms about like wings.

Luca, at age fifteen the youngest dragonrider in their group, laughed. “Hey Iliana, you're gonna learn to fly before Syderet does!”

Elise giggled at Iliana's embarrassment. “A-ha! So that's why you wear those long coats! They're secretly wings.”

“Very funny,” Iliana muttered, blushing and folding her arms.

“Aww, I'm sorry for mocking,” Elise said as she poked Iliana in the side, “keep on flapping those wings, you'll be the most dapper dragon of them all.”

“Thanks,” Iliana said sarcastically. Suddenly Syderet projected a wave of instinctive fear into her. She frowned, trying to follow his gaze. “What's wrong? There's only clouds down there, Syderet.”

But then she saw it: the dark shapes of dragons flying just through the tops of the clouds so that they were hard to see. There were at least five of them flying straight for Oturia and none of them seemed to have riders. “Is that normal behaviour?”

“Trying to change the-”

“Marco!” Iliana called out, pointing in their direction. Her bad feeling had been correct: Marco cursed and Puigmal roared a loud alarm call. He jumped on Puigmal's back.

“Wild dragons! Get inside, all of you!”

The dragons, having heard the alarm cries, rose up above the clouds, speeding up and going straight for the group of recruits. Marco and Puigmal went to meet them and occupy them until the other Oturian dragons could join, but they were outnumbered badly. One of the wild dragons completely ignored them and flew after the fleeing recruits instead. Iliana's first thought as she ran was to protect Syderet, let him run as fast as he could, but then she realised she was likely in more danger herself. “Keep your dragons with you,” she cried out, already seeing some others getting separated. “Hide behind them if you can!”

Zapatilla tripped over her own feet, and Elise skidded to a halt as well. “Elise! Hide behind Zapa!” Iliana said as Elise picked up some rocks to throw at the approaching dragon, bravely, but stupidly, standing in front of her own. “No way, I'll protect h- Woah!”

Iliana pulled her down to the ground, behind Syderet. A torrent of fire washed just over the heads of Syderet and Zapatilla as a large, lavender dragon swooped over. “Thanks,” Elise said, looking about wild-eyed. “W-why didn't it burn us?”

The lavender dragon, having missed Iliana and Elise, was starting to turn around, but being a speedster, it had to make quite a large circle for that. Iliana and Elise took the opportunity to get to their feet and run farther with their dragons. The rest of their group was well ahead by now, while Puigmal and Marco were still trying to keep the wild dragons away, only their manoeuvrability keeping them safe. As the lavender dragon that had swooped down flew by the battle, Puigmal managed to flame its tail. “It's us they want to kill,” Iliana explained, “not our dragons. They probably want to take our dragons back with the-”

“LOOK OUT!” Elise tackled Iliana to the ground as a claw the size of her whole body grasped into empty air just above. The great lavender dragon landed just beyond them, wheeling around. Syderet yipped protectively, but was brushed aside by a great claw. Zapatilla hissed and tweeted as she was casually picked up and placed out of the way by the other claw. The dragon towered over Iliana and Elise, no-one left between them and it.

“Split up,” Iliana whispered. Thankfully, Elise didn't argue but darted in the opposite direction. The wild dragon looked from one to the other. Iliana's heart pounded in her throat. It was hardly the first time she'd encountered a dangerous, hungry animal, but never before had it been a dragon who could devour her whole or incinerate her if it wanted. Her best bet was that it might not want to make a move for either of them and risk the other escaping.

The dragon's dark eyes flashed towards Elise, and Iliana realised it was going to attack her. She couldn't blame it for going for the juicier snack, and she should've just let it, ran for her life, and hidden away while it ate Elise. Even as she made that plan, she was already waving her arms and shouting to draw the dragon's attention. “Hey, fluffball!”

The dragon looked over to her, surprised, just as it was stretching out its neck toward Elise. Iliana ran, fully realising it'd only encourage the dragon's hunting instinct. She was correct, as she found out when she was thrown into the snow by a strong impact only moments later, tumbling onto her back. The dragon was upon her in a moment, pinning her down with a heavy front paw almost as large as Iliana's entire body. One of its claws tore through her coat, but that was the least of her worries right now. The dragon spread great lavender and violet wings around her like a protective, feathery tent. She'd noticed Syderet often doing the same thing just before he was about to eat. Elise and some other voices shouted in an attempted distraction behind the wings, but now that it had caught its prey, the dragon had no reason to pay them any attention.

As the dragon lowered its head toward her, its great maw opened, terrifyingly large and dark. Sharp teeth and a huge, deep red tongue approached Iliana and threatened to drive her into a panic. She forced herself to breathe very slowly and suppress all distracting fear, picturing only a single thing in her mind: biting the wound on the dragon's tail. She imagined herself doing it, banning out the horrifying thoughts of what was about to happen to her. It was her only hope, other than that the dragon might give her a swift death rather than a slow one. Even as its warm breath washed over her and she could see nothing but a large maw full of glimmering teeth, large enough to fit her entire body inside, she kept her thoughts on the same track. Bite. The. Tail. Please, Syderet, look into my mind... BITE THE TAIL, BITE THE TAIL, HELP!

Just as the gross, warm tongue touched Iliana's face, a shock suddenly went through the dragon. A tremendous wave of sound washed over Iliana and battered into her eardrums as it roared in pain. Her ears rung as the paw's weight lifted for a moment, the dragon furiously reacting to the little pest that had hurt it. Iliana began to scramble to her feet, knowing she'd only have a moment's distraction to get away. As the dragon turned around, its wing swooped over Iliana, and she suddenly found herself enveloped in a thick forest of feathers longer than she was. Barely realising what she was doing, she grabbed hold of a bundle of the feathers, hiding in the dragon's wing as she was lifted off her feet.

It was a bad idea: great forces of movement flung her in every direction as the dragon moved and she couldn't see anything except soft, colourful feathers everywhere. She didn't know what up or down was as the dragon shook its wings wildly and stuck its great snout into them, looking for the annoying little pest pulling its feathers. Iliana tried to hold on, but another great shake of the wings flung her into the air, out of the forest of tickly plumage. She soared through the cold air in an arc before landing on the dragon's back, a carpet of thick feathers underneath her.

Thankfully, the dragon had more pressing matters than Iliana to deal with: the other Oturian dragons had joined the fight, helping Marco and Puigmal chase the wild dragons off. Some of them were swooping down at the dragon, which was angrily being distracted from all sides now, including Iliana on its back. Its azure crest stood up furiously and its nostrils fumed with smoke as it lowered its head towards Elise and the others with her: fellow recruits, young dragons, and a few of the servants who had come to help.

Iliana yanked on the sensitive feathers on the dragon's ear holes to stop it incinerating them. Interrupted by the pain, it threw her off with a powerful shake of the head. She landed in some soft snow. The dragon looked about furiously, clearly wanting to continue, but it had no choice: its comrades were losing the battle above, and more and more Oturian dragons were flying straight for it. With an angry glare, it lifted off, snow flying everywhere, and joined its fellows in retreat, pursued by the Oturian dragons.

Iliana was only just getting up when she was yanked to her feet and tightly hugged by Elise. “You're alright! Illy, you saved me, and I thought you were going to be-”

“Iliana,” she said, trying to escape Elise's strong arms. “And please, let go of me.”

“Right, sorry, sorry,” Elise said, letting go of her with a grin. “Thanks a bunch, either way. That was really brave, you know.”

Syderet was next to her, happily snuggling against her as she scratched his head. “I wasn't being brave, just stupid, really. I wasn't thinking, and I could easily have been killed.” She fingered the gash in her coat sorrowfully. Being a dragonrider wasn't turning out to be very healthy for her clothes.

Elise beamed. “Yeah, that's what makes it brave.”

The gusts of wind picked up as the multicoloured bulk of Bheithir descended. Michael hopped off his back. “Everyone alright?”

“Yeah,” Luca said, “I think – wait, where's Lana?”

Lana's yellowish face popped out of a heap of snow her dragon, Antelao, was digging in. “I'm right here!”

“Er, right,” Michael said, standing up straight in what he probably thought was an authoritative and imposing pose, but actually mainly looked stiff and awkward. “So, Marco had to help repel the wild dragons. Er, he sent me to tell you the says the lesson's over, and you've got the rest of the day off.”

Elise whooped and most of the others began to walk off with their dragons. Iliana had some questions for Michael, so she walked with him. “Why were you sent back?” she asked. “Is it because Bheithir isn't an adult yet, so they'd prefer to have you safe at Oturia instead of in battle?”

Michael blushed deeply. “Err, well, making sure the recruits were safe is a vitally important task, one which Remus would only entrust to a reliable and-”

Iliana frowned. “Remus led the battle? Hmm, I think I did see Quayrat, yeah. That's good: I have some questions for him. I want to know how Oturia could possibly be attacked by wild dragons.”

Michael seemed to shrink a little. “Er, well, they flew in low, from underneath the clouds-”

“I saw that,” Iliana said, “but shouldn't we have made sure there were no hostile groups of dragons nearby in the first place?”

“Er, I'm sure the patrols do their best, but the mountains are big and we can hardly see everything that happens.”

As they entered the vast main hall, Iliana had a thought. “We could ally ourselves with some of the wild dragons and have them look out for dragons who want to steal our young dragons. We could negotiate with them through our own dragons.”

“I don't know-”

“It just seems like an awful security risk, dragons flying in unnoticed through the clouds. And I'm not even getting to the possibility of Golgosk or Sheliak using the same method to attack us.”

“Do-do you think that's likely?” Michael stammered.

“It's a possibility,” Iliana said. “One that, as far as I understand the geopolitical situation, is quite probable.”

Elise came from behind and put an arm around each of their shoulders, dragging the much taller Michael down a bit. “So speaks Dragonlord Iliana.”

Iliana blushed. “Just some ideas, that's all.”

“Don't worry, I'd vote for you,” she said teasingly.

“Very funny,” Iliana said, unable to suppress a smile.

“Mighty Dragonlord Iliana, hero of the battle of Oturia. Doesn't sound too bad, does it?”

5: Arlesbury

Four months had passed since Syderet had hatched. He had grown enormously, already standing as tall as Iliana when he reared up on two legs. His proper feathers were coming through and starting to grow over his downy coat, especially at the head and neck. They were various shades of gorgeous sky blue, a little different in every spot and at every angle. The feathers made him even softer and warmer to the touch. Which was good, as Iliana had to inspect him for parasites, pin feathers, and ingrown feathers daily, and at least her hands were caressed by unbelievably soft plumage while she worked. The feathers had more downsides: their growth caused Syderet endless irritation, which in turn caused Iliana plenty of sleepless nights. She regularly had to treat his skin with various salves and ointments to help make the growth of feathers a bit easier on him.

“Have you found a ride to Arlesbury yet?” a cheery voice asked from somewhere under Zapatilla's vermillion wing.

“Arlesbury?” Iliana, who was quite used to the occasional non sequitur by now, asked as she continued to rub ointment on Syderet's neck, the dragon purring with relief as it soothed the pain and itching from his growing feathers.

“For the fair, Illy!” Elise's head popped up from behind her dragon. “You'll need a ride unless you plan to teach Syderet to fly in the next few days!”

“Oh, right,” Iliana said, gently brushing through the still downy coat on Syderet's back. “I don't think I'm going to the fair.”

Elise's brown eyes almost popped out of their sockets. “Not going? But it's a fair! The whole world will try to be there, it'll be a huge, great party, and now that you live with dragons, you'll finally have a chance to go! It'll be fun and exciting!”

“Yeah, well, I'm just not in the mood...” Iliana mumbled.

Elise smiled encouragingly. “How do you know? It's a few days off yet, you might be very in the mood by then! And besides, why wouldn't you be in the mood for a big party? It'll be full of people, and music, and dancing, and food, and drink!” she punctuated everything she listed with a gesture.

Iliana's desire to go lessened with every word. “It's just not really my thing, I suppose...”

Elise shrugged. “Well, there'll be stuff you like too, you know. Apparently people are always trying to show off new inventions and art and other clever people stuff at fairs.”

“Clever people stuff?”

Elise blushed a little. “Well, you know, stuff you'd like.”

Iliana raised an eyebrow. “Thanks. But I think I'll still pass.”

Understanding dawned on Elise's face. “Oh, I get it. You're too shy.”

Iliana muttered something in protest, even as she had to admit to herself that was perhaps part of it.

Elise smiled encouragingly and patted her on the shoulder. Iliana pulled away from the pat. “It's alright. You don't have to go to the fair on your own. That's no fun, anyway, even when you're not shy. You can be my date. It'll be a fun friends' night out.”

“Thanks, but I'm still not sure-”

“Look, don't worry about it, okay? I'll make sure you have a good time. All you need to do is find a ride.” She raised an eyebrow. “I'd ask that cute Michael bloke, if I were you.”

Iliana sighed. “Yeah, maybe I will...” At least he wasn't a complete stranger. She'd still much rather just read a book or something in Oturia than go to some busy party where there were lots of people buzzing about and she'd have to pretend to have a good time. With Elise looking so happy and sure she'd fixed the problem, she didn't want to disillusion her or worse, make her feel she was a boring, unfun stick-in-the-mud. Annoying as she could sometimes be, Iliana had come to like Elise's company and the thought that she might get bored with her and stop talking to her was far scarier than going to the fair could ever be.

–

“There we are, Arlesbury!” Michael said as Bheithir descended, the large, old city sprawled out before them. Little watermills in the river, an endless ant hill of houses and busy streets, and smoking chimneys surrounded the tall, white spires of the old city, which were covered in little dragon silhouettes. This was the home of the Order of Arlesbury, home of the first ever dragonriders.

“It looks nice,” Iliana said. Michael had stated the obvious, pointing to bits of scenery and describing them, all flight long. Iliana supposed he was trying to make small talk, and endeavoured to respond as best she could.

They were far from the only dragonriders in the skies: aside from the many other visitors arriving, the dragons of Arlesbury were showing off their flying in formation, forming great figures in the sky. Bheithir landed on one a large square with a pretty fountain in the middle and several crowds gathered around musicians and market stands at the edges. People gasped and applauded at the landing as Iliana hopped off and gave Bheithir's feathers an appreciative ruffle. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Don't mention it,” Michael said with a grin. “Always happy to be your taxi.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, Michael,” Iliana said. “I shouldn't rely on you for these things so much, but-”

He tried to pat her shoulder, but Iliana dodged it. “No, really, Iliana, I am. I was going to the fair myself, anyway, and appreciate the company. Don't worry about me.”

“Illy!” Elise came running towards the two, and a small whistle escaped Michael's lips. It wasn't hard to see why: she looked gorgeous in a small orange-and-red dress. Its short skirt and low neckline showed off her generous curves, and its sleeves were covered in beautiful, fiery frills. She grinned. “Nice to see you! I almost didn't think you'd come.”

Iliana smiled back nervously; she had considered pretending she was sick. “Well, I did. Here I am.”

“Hi, Elise,” Michael said, blushing, “you're looking really lovely today! Er... would you like to dance?”

To Iliana's relief, Elise refused. “Sorry, Michael, but I've got a date with Illy-”

“Iliana.”

“Iliana. Buuut, maybe some other time?” she gave a big wink.

The gangly boy blushed deeply. “Er, sure! I'll, um, be around if you need me. I'll leave around eleven, Iliana, so make sure you're back here by then.” He quickly went to join one of the crowds as Bheithir flew off to find a good spot for himself.

Iliana absent-mindedly plucked on her frilled cravat. “He's right, you know. You really do look lovely.”

“Thanks!” Elise said with a radiant smile. “I was about to tell you the same thing. Black suits you well.” She offered her arm to Iliana, who gently refused with a small pat to her elbow and instead simply walked with her as they headed into busy streets. Smells and sounds overwhelmed Iliana, everything from strange delicacies from the far corners of the world to whirring machines on display.

“I figured I should wear something special for a special occasion,” Iliana said, her eyes briefly caught by a small coil firing off little lightning bolts.

Elise giggled. “You just had to put on a big, frilly cravat, didn't you? I wore this dress in particular because I hoped I could outfrill you for once.” She gave Iliana's cravat a small, teasing pull.

Iliana giggled as well, pulling away instinctively, even though she found she didn't actually mind being touched for once. “You'll have to try a lot harder than that to outfrill me. I've actually got a coat that's entirely covered in frills.”

They had arrived at a little terrace in a pretty street, Elise quickly ordering a mug of beer for each of them as they found a table. “Cheers,” she said, clinking her mug against Iliana's. “I'd love to see you in that coat sometime.”

Iliana paused in the middle of taking a sip. “You wouldn't, believe me.”

Elise raised an eyebrow. “I suppose I might prefer you without it.”

“Yeah, you would. It's a nauseating combination of purple and green. I don't know what tailor decided those colours went together, but I can only assume they were either colourblind or insane.”

Elise burst into giggles while drinking, emerging from her mug with a moustache of foam she quickly licked away. “Must be quite the coat.”

“Between the colours and the frills, it makes me look like a particularly ugly dragon with her feathers all fluffed up against the cold.”

“You realise I'll never stop bugging you until you've shown it now, right?”

Iliana tried to respond with a serious, stern look, but couldn't quite manage. “I'm beginning to realise I made a terrible mistake, yes. Well, you wouldn't be the first. My grandmother always wanted me to wear that... thing. She gave it to me, you know.”

“You must've done something terrible to her when you were a kid.”

They talked, ate, and drank together as time passed. Eventually, their conversation was interrupted as a huge flight of white and blue dragons flew over, forming the banner of the Order of Arlesbury in the sky, surrounded by great tongues of fire. The crowd in the streets cheered and applauded.

“Show-offs,” Iliana said with a smile.

“I've met very few dragons, other than my Zapa, who weren't,” Elise said.

A nearby group of musicians started playing faster, more up-tempo music, and lots of people began to dance as the dragons swooped overhead once more.

Elise smiled and offered her hand. “Wanna dance?”

“No, thank you.” Elise's dejected look obliged Iliana to add: “But if you want to dance, then go ahead!”

Elise rolled her eyes. “Of course not, I'm staying with you.”

Iliana raised an eyebrow. “That's very polite of you.”

“You sound surprised.”

“Not at all,” Iliana said, trying to keep a straight face.

Elise was clearly trying the same. “So you think I can't be polite, do you?”

“I said no such thing.”

“But you thought it.”

They burst out into giggles at their banter. “Okay, okay, I'm sorry,” Iliana said, her mood quickly darkening again. “I really mean it, by the way. It's very nice of you to want to stick around, but you don't have to. I'm sorry about monopolising your time like this. I... I know I'm probably not your first choice for a date to the fair. And you're very kind to take me along and goof around with me because I'm... well, I'm not the most sociable person, and would be unlikely to have a good time on my own. And, well, I know you, you like... dancing, and singing, and flirting, and being with other people, having a good time, and instead you're stuck being my carer.”

Elise touched Iliana's wrist, and she quickly retracted her hand. “Illy-”

“Iliana.”

“Iliana, I don't mind. I am having a good time, being with you. And as for-”

Iliana sighed. “Elise, you don't need to worry about me. You've done more than enough, entertaining me this far. I can take care of myself the rest of the evening. Why don't you go find Michael and have that dance with him, or well, any other guy, I doubt you'll have much trouble finding a dance partner-”

“Iliana, I'm not interested in dancing with Michael... Well, maybe a little, but not right now. I want to have a good time with you. If you don't want to dance, I'm fine with sitting here and chatting, or walking the fair and seeing the sights. Stop thinking you're boring; you're not.”

“You don't need to spare my feelings. Just look at your dress. You're all ready to party with... well, someone who's more like you, and I'm just dragging you down.”

“Stop it,” Elise said. “I don't want to be with someone like me. I want to be with someone who's smart, and nice, and sweet, and creative, who is calmingly shy, yet passionate and fiery inside. I want to be with you.”

Iliana blushed at the praise. “I... Really?”

Elise nodded. “Really.”

Iliana closed her eyes a moment, trying to accept that. She still suspected Elise was just sacrificing herself to entertain Iliana. But she supposed it wasn't very nice to keep trying to call her out on such a kind lie. “Thank you.”

Elise sighed in relief to finally have Iliana stop contradicting her.

“...So why are you wearing such a pretty dress?” Iliana asked. “If you're just going to be stuck talking to me anyway...”

Elise rolled her eyes. “You really don't know?”

Iliana frowned. “No, that's why I'm asking.”

Elise sighed and made a grab for Iliana's hand, but she quickly retracted it. “Iliana, I-”

She was interrupted by the tall form of Dragonlord Remus, as he walked to their table. “Iliana, Elise, fantastic, I was hoping to run into you. I hope I'm not interrupting?”

Elise scowled at him as Iliana said: “Not really, Dragonlord.”

Remus smiled. “Call me Remus, please. I want to ask you to come along to the dragonlords' summit.”

Iliana's eyes bulged. “Me?”

Elise smirked. “Finally, recognition by your peers, Dragonlord Iliana!”

Iliana tried to give her an angry look, but couldn't hide a small smile.

“I'm afraid it's not good news,” Remus said. “Igor Karkhosov is still opposed to you being Syderet's rider, and he's going to take the case before the dragonlords' summit to have us all decide on it together.”

“What?!” Elise stood up angrily. “Doesn't that idiot know his son already has a dragon? What's he think taking Syderet away will do for him?”

Iliana sighed. “I don't think he cares about Syderet in particular, does he, Dra- er, Remus?”

Remus shook his head. “I don't think so, no.”

“It's probably just the principle of the thing, and a refusal to be proven wrong. He seems like someone who rarely gets to hear the word 'no' and would want to ensure he doesn't hear it again.”

“Indeed,” Remus said.

“And of course, if the other Dragonlords back him and take Syderet away from me, it would be a huge loss of face for Oturia and Segovia.”

“Ooh, I see,” Elise said as they walked through the crowded city. Remus led them on quite rapidly, leaving no time to investigate all the pretty sights they passed. In a way, Iliana was glad about it: she'd rather hear the decision of the dragonlords now and get it over with.

“I'm afraid Iliana is right,” Remus said. “There is more at stake than just you and Syderet. But don't worry about that. I just want you to answer any questions honestly, explain that Syderet loves you and that you take good care of him. They're all dragonriders, I don't think they'll be able to separate you if you just remind them of their own love of their dragons.”

“And if they don't believe that,” Elise said, “I'll tell them how you know more about dragons than any of us, that you're brave and smart and a great dragonrider, and-”

“Sorry, but you won't be allowed in the meeting,” Remus said.

“What?!”

“You're neither a Dragonlord nor the subject of our discussion. I can't let you inside.”

Elise stamped the ground. “Well, that's complete dragonshi-” she blushed and caught herself. “Er, I don't entirely agree with that idea, sir.”

“That may be so,” Remus said with a small smile, “but I can't do much about it. You'll have to wait outside.”

Elise was about to protest, but Iliana grabbed her hand, then immediately wondered why she did that and dropped it again. “I'll be alright, Elise. Thanks for wanting to help, but I'll see you again afterwards, alright?”

“Alright. But if they try to take Syderet away from you, just shout and I'll come running in.”

The old centre of the city was entirely populated by dragonriders, being the seat of the Order of Arlesbury. A pearly white wall separated it from the rest of the city, and it was full of magnificent and opulent buildings of marble. The dragonriders had done alright for themselves: Arlesbury had been small, poor, and near the edge of destruction when they figured out the secret of making Contact with dragons. The dragonriders had provided a vital protection to the city, and within a decade the city was the most powerful in the world and ruled by its new dragonriders.

Remus led them through the old city to a large, almost stadium-like structure. Nine great dragons, Quayrat among them, sat on the edge, looking inward. Iliana was quite sure all of them were leaders. “Only nine?” Iliana asked.

Remus muttered something under his breath. “Looks like Alejandro is late again... Just what we need. Well, Elise, you'll have to wait here.”

Elise looked ready to protest again, so Iliana took her aside. “It'll be alright, Elise, don't worry about me.”

“But what if it isn't alright?” Elise asked. “What will you do if they decide to take Syderet away?”

Iliana swallowed a lump. “I... I don't know. But I'll do my very best to convince them not to.”

Elise made to hug her, so Iliana quickly jumped back. Elise giggled at her reaction. “Sorry, forgot you don't like that. Good luck, anyway... I'll be here for you.”

Remus, who had briefly gone inside already, came back to pick Iliana up, guiding her through a large corridor with several bends and some machines and storage areas. It came out into the amphitheatre. Eight of the dragonlords were seated at a great, round table in its middle, their dragons looking down from the great height of the rim. Great cloths with the emblems of the ten draconic orders were draped over the table in positions matching their dragonlords, who sat in great, high-backed chairs which each flew the banner of the appropriate order. Only two seats were left empty: the one marked with Oturia's stylised red dragon on a blue mountain and one marked with the green Segovian island among blue waves.

Eight pairs of eyes stared at Iliana, some of them appraising, others openly hostile. She looked away nervously and fiddled with her cravat. She glanced up, where her eyes found Quayrat's. The dragon gave her an encouraging nod. “This is most irregular,” a portly man in garish gold-embroidered clothes and a huge, powdered grey wig spoke. His banner, the white-and-blue one of Arlesbury itself, was a little larger than any of the other ones.

Remus sat down in the Oturian chair. “This, my fellow dragonlords, is Iliana Cavotta, the dragonrider-”

Igor Karkhosov, under the austere black triangle on a white background banner of Golgosk, made a sound of protest, giving Iliana a nasty glare.

“The dragonrider who made Contact with Syderet. I brought her here to be allowed to speak in her own defence when we discuss her case.”

Iliana made a small curtsy to the collected dragonlords, but met Igor's steely gaze head-on. She obviously wouldn't be allowed to sit in Segovia's place, so she was left standing a bit awkwardly next to Remus's chair. She looked from dragonlord to dragonlord. They were men from all over the world and all ages, as colourful as their banners and dragons. While the Dragonlord of Arlesbury was dressed like a king, most of the others wore much simpler garb, some of them embodying, just like Remus, the surprising lack of opulence that many dragonriders had despite their station. Others were dressed in exotic garbs from their distant lands. The tall, black Dragonlord of Thurapur, in the eastern deserts, was the youngest. He had only a few years on Iliana herself, and looked a little nervous to be in the company of his peers.

The oldest was the Dragonlord of Lake Obsidiani, a man who looked to be nearing his eightieth birthday. His short, grey hair had a wave in it and his beard had just enough black left to form a distinctive stripe. Piercingly intense, dark eyes peered from above a mighty nose and studied Iliana and his peers carefully. Between his straight posture and the intelligence in those eyes, Iliana doubted if his age made him any less of a dragonlord.

The foppish Dragonlord of Arlesbury looked around the table for a moment, and Iliana saw the Lord of Obsidiani catch his eye. “I'll allow it,” the Arlesburian spoke, his voice full of a conviction that it was indeed his choice and permission to give.

“Thank you, Lord George,” Remus said.

Silence fell around the table, and Iliana knew she was standing out like a sore thumb. She had to stop her hands from fiddling with her cravat: she didn't want to look nervous. Of all people, Igor Karkhosov was her saviour. “It's time to start the meeting,” he said irritably.

“Lord Alejandro is not present,” said the lord of Charleans, a lanky, yellow-skinned man in long, green robes.

“If Alejandro Ortega can't show up in time, Segovia's voice will not be heard,” Lord George said. “I declare the summit opened. The first order of business are the recent dragon attacks we've been experiencing.”

“I propose a different order of discussions,” Igor said. “Let us first deal with the issue of Syderet, so that we can be done with it and send this... interloper on her way.”

“I concur,” said the Dragonlord of Sheliak, a lizard-like, younger man with a pointy beard seated next to Igor. He was clearly Vladimir's older brother, even down to having almost the same voice.

A murmur of assent went around the table, and before Lord George could protest further, Igor began making his case. “This girl made Contact with a leader-dragon who was about to make Contact with my son. This not only goes against all traditions and customs, but is also certainly bad for the dragon's development. Far from fixing this obvious mistake, Oturia has encouraged this girl's immoral behaviour and provided her with all the facilities to raise the dragon she stole.”

Iliana kept her own anger down as several disapproving looks were sent her way. Lord George sniffed haughtily, looking quite a bit like a pig in a wig. “Most improper indeed. Who ever heard of a woman riding a leader? Lord Remus, do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Remus carefully spoke. “It is indeed unusual for a woman to ride a leader-”

“Unusual?” Lord George said. “It's downright impossible, I should have thought!”

“Well, I thought the same thing, yet it happened.”

“Well, you're the Dragonlord, man! Didn't you do anything about it?”

“Lord George, what was there I could have done? The dragon had made its choice. An unusual one, clearly, but still its choice.”

Igor grinned nastily. “You're arguing you couldn't do anything, but I was there. I offered you several possible solutions, and you refused to consider any of them. Lord Remus' behaviour was most obstinate.”

The Dragonlord of Trisiti, a short, dusky-skinned man in far warmer clothes than he needed, shuffled uncomfortably. “A Dragonlord's judgement within his own Order is absolute. Lord Remus had that right...”

“Absolute,” Igor said, “unless he is overruled by a two-thirds majority of his peers. Since this matter obviously threatens the morality and unity of all Orders, I fully believe most of you will agree to rectify his mistake.”

“Lord Igor,” Remus said, with calmth that Iliana couldn't match, balling her fists angrily in her coat pockets. “None of your suggestions were workable. Contact had been established. Giving the dragon to another person would've been an injustice.”

“Injustice? It was a fake Contact! Leaders don't make Contact with girls! Any-”

A short-feathered blue and green dragon descended into the meeting, and Lord George held on to his wig to protect it from the winds. Off its back hopped Dragonlord Alejandro, cheerful as ever, as his dragon settled on the rim. “Hello!” he said, grinning widely. “Anyone for a waffle? I got some delicious ones at the fair. George, old chap, my congratulations: Arlesbury's bakers really have outdone themselves – Oh, hello Iliana!” he shook her hand vigorously. “Waffle?”

“Er, no thank you,” Iliana said, pulling her hand back.

“Enough of this nonsense,” George snapped. “You're late.”

“Terribly sorry, terribly sorry, but there was a very long line for the waffles and I felt compelled to get one for each of you after tasting them.”

“Before I was interrupted,” Igor snapped, “I was saying: no dragon-loving rider could disagree with me that Lord Remus' decision was wrong.”

“Interesting that you should mention the love of dragons,” Alejandro said, unwrapping one of his waffles, “because I believe that's at the heart of the matter. Iliana, does Syderet love you?”

Iliana startled to be addressed. “Er, yes, Lord Alejandro.”

Alejandro's eyes bulged. “Well then, what are we talking about? Discussion over, next item on the agenda! So, these dragon attacks, hmm?”

“It is not,” Igor said slowly, as if talking to a child, “over. Of course she would say that.”

“Well then, let's ask someone else who knows her. Remus? Do she and the dragon love each other?”

Remus, who seemed caught between a disapproving frown and a smile for the other dragonlord, nodded. “Yes, they do.”

“And does she take good care of him?”

“Yes, she does.”

Alejandro spread his arms wide, slouching in his chair. “No problem then!” he bit into a waffle. “They really are fantastic, you all need to try one.”

The Dragonlord of Sheliak grinned the same nasty grin Iliana knew all too well of his father and brother. “If we're done, would you like to call a vote, then?”

Iliana looked around at all the disapproving faces. “No, thank you,” Remus said quickly, giving Alejandro a glare, “I believe we've got more to discuss first. Iliana, would you tell me how Syderet's hatching went?”

Iliana told the dragonlords in somewhat stilted, nervous sentences, taking care to emphasise both that it had been an accident and the fact that Contact had been instantaneous, as it was supposed to. Remus asked a couple more questions, asking her to describe daily life with Syderet and the dragon himself. She couldn't keep pride and love out of her voice as she talked about him. At least, until Igor suddenly interrupted her story about Syderet.

“None of this addresses the true problem,” the old lizard said. “You can wave your hands and pretend you're a real dragonrider, girl-”

“I am a real dragonrider,” Iliana said. For a moment, she didn't care about the frowns she got for interrupting Igor.

Igor scoffed. “No, you're not. It's an act. Women don't ride leaders. Period. That's how it's always been and that's the simple truth. It's tradition.”

“Tradition?!” Iliana snapped, even as Remus anxiously whispered for her to be quiet. She would've lunged across the table at Igor's stupid lizard face if the table wasn't so large. “Then the tradition is obviously wrong! I made Contact with Syderet. Get used to it, Dragonlord. He is my dragon, and not your son's. And if all you've got to say against it is that it's not traditional, then you're just engaging in necrocracy. Letting dead men decide, instead of the living.”

Iliana realised immediately as the words were out that she'd spoken too rashly. Alejandro gave her a nod of agreement, but almost all the other dragonlords obviously disagreed. She thought she saw the young Dragonlord of Thurapur looking thoughtful before he returned to a carefully neutral expression.

“She clearly has a temperament unsuited for a dragonrider,” Igor said triumphantly.

George scowled, his wig sagging onto his forehead a bit. “You disregard the wisdom of the ancients in a single breath, all for your own good, girl. I can see they had good reasons not to let women ride leaders.”

“Oh, nonsense, nonsense,” Alejandro said. “In fact, I'm quite sure the idea that the genders of dragons are bound to human ones is just a superstition. After Iliana's demonstration of the possibility of women riding leaders, I've mixed up the genders of dragons and candidates at Segovia's latest hatchings, told them to stand wherever and not informed them of the so-called bias the various dragons have for one sex or the other. We had more or less equal amounts of men and women make Contact with each of the four genders.”

“What?” Igor snapped.

“Oh yes, we've got three more women riding leaders, and two men riding speedsters as well.”

Several of the dragonlords got angry at Alejandro and discussion erupted everywhere. The dragons on the rim roared. “Order! Order!” George called. “Lord Alejandro, that was very foolish and completely uncalled for! You had no right to make such a decision.”

“No right? As Lord Satoru pointed out, a dragonlord's judgement is absolute within his own Order. After Syderet and Iliana made Contact, I saw the need to investigate if it was a freak occurrence or perfectly normal.”

“It is anything but perfectly normal,” George snapped. “We will decide on the case of the mismatched riders in Segovia along with Iliana's case. I can't believe this has happened six times already!”

Obsidiani's grey old Dragonlord spoke for the first time. His voice was deep, powerful, and enthralling. “My fellow Dragonlords, all this is getting us nowhere. Dragons know our minds. They select only the wisest, most draconic of humans to be their riders. With that in mind, we should strive for unity. We all have dragons, we all need to work together. If Syderet and the Segovian dragons made this choice, I would argue we should accept it, not punish it.”

“That's just what I was saying, Lord Carandini,” Alejandro said.

Carandini raised a thick eyebrow. “With a few more crumbs flying about.”

Carandini's position seemed to ruffle a few feathers. “Lord Carandini,” George said. “Surely the old wisdoms should be considered...”

Carandini smiled. “Of course. But the old wisdoms and traditions were started by people just like us, who were just trying to do the best they could by their dragons. But they were fallible too. Let us take care not to repeat mistakes they made, even as we stick to their wisdoms.”

The Karkhosovs scowled, but seemed reluctant to speak out against Carandini.

“Change is difficult,” Carandini continued, “and not all change is for the better.”

“Not all change is bad either!” Alejandro said with a grin before starting his second waffle. “Change means different, and that's all it does.”

Carandini raised an eyebrow. “Thank you for that insightful comment, Lord Alejandro.”

“This change is not for the better,” Karkhosov junior, the Sheliak Dragonlord, said. “She will erode what it means to be a dragonrider! If we allow that, what's next? Dragon eggs being sold on the market? Mundanes making dragon omelettes?”

“I really don't think it'll come to that,” Remus said with a small smile. Iliana felt almost relieved by the Sheliak Dragonlord's silly argument.

“Shall we vote?” Carandini asked. “I think we've spent enough time on the matter.”

“All those in favour of rectifying the situation,” Igor said. His own hand and his son's shot into the air straight away. George's joined them, as did those of the lords of Bernhau, Charleans, and Trisiti. Alejandro and Remus's hands stayed down, of course, and so did Carandini's. The young Dragonlord from Thurapur hesitated, but kept his hand down as well.

“Six to four,” Carandini said. “Not the two-thirds majority required to overrule a Dragonlord's judgement.”

An incredible sigh of relief washed through Iliana. She had won... Syderet was hers! She gave a very grateful smile to Lord Kiran of Thurapur, who very briefly smiled back.

“You're making a mistake!” Igor snapped. “Carandini, Kiran, don't join these two fools in their destruction of what it means to be a dragonrider!”

Alejandro grinned. “Very good, Igor, don't crop up your anger. Much better to throw it out, I always say. You'll get stressed otherwise. Waffle?”

Igor angrily hit the waffle offered to him out of Alejandro's hand. Alejandro made a disappointed face. “You could've just said no...”

George spoke, still frowning. “Lords Carandini, Remus, Alejandro, and Kiran, are you certain of your vote?”

“I am,” Lord Kiran spoke, his voice soft and pleasant. “From what I've heard today, Iliana has the makings of a good dragonrider. We have no right to exclude her.”

George glowered at him. “Well then, with that concluded, let us continue. Miss Cavotta, you can leave.”

Iliana found herself smiling happily as she went. Alejandro gave her a smile and a wink in passing. She left the building almost at a run, her coat flapping behind her. Elise came running towards her breathlessly when she saw her coming. “Well?”

Iliana grinned. “The lizards lost.”

“Yeah!” Elise made to give Iliana a hug, before correcting herself. “Oh, right.”

Amused by Elise's disappointed expression, Iliana grabbed her hand, the joy of victory overcoming her aversion for a little while. “I almost messed it up by getting angry and doing a speech... Although I think that might've convinced Lord Kiran.”

Elise squeezed her hand happily. “Look what I bought while I had to wait anyway!” she turned her head, pointing to her ears. From each one hung a beautiful earring shaped like a red dragon. They looked quite a bit like Zapatilla.

“Nice!” Iliana said.

“I wanted to buy you a blue pair, but I didn't know if your ears were pierced.”

Iliana smiled. “What, foresight? That's even newer than politeness.” She pointed at her own ears with a grin. “You made the right choice: I couldn't wear them.”

“Well, let's get back to the fair, then, I'm sure we can find someone to pierce your ears.”

Iliana felt herself pale at the thought.

Elise burst out into laughter. “Only kidding. Anyway, c'mon: we've got food to eat, beer to drink, music to dance – I mean, listen to!”

“I've got a better idea,” Iliana said with a grin.

Elise raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Here, this way.” Iliana led Elise back into the building by the hand. She put a finger on her lips as a warning.

Elise giggled. “In here? What's got into you, Illy? We're not allowed here.”

Iliana led her to a small corner behind some storage, where they were close enough to hear the dragonlords, but hidden from both their view and anyone who might look in from outside. They had to huddle up considerably more than Iliana liked in the small space, but she'd take it. “Ooh,” Elise whispered, “this is kind of nice, isn't it?”

Iliana nodded.

“Sooo...” Elise said, looking into Iliana's eyes through her eyelashes. “What do we do now?”

“We listen,” Iliana said.

“Listen?”

“Those are the rulers of the world talking in there. Who knows what we could overhear.”

“Oh,” Elise said, disappointed.

Iliana sighed. “Their decisions could impact us all, and we could hear very secretive information. Imagine what we could use the knowledge for... And besides, aren't you curious?”

Elise rested her head on Iliana's shoulder. “Not really. But if you want to stay and listen, I'll stay with you. It's quite comfy here.”

Iliana disagreed with that statement, but was already enraptured listening to the dragonlords. They talked about wild dragon attacks and general trouble with monsters lately, an expansionist duke in Trisiti's territory, internal matters and small territorial disputes between the various orders. Alejandro clearly delighted in annoying both the Karkhosovs and George, and they usually found themselves at opposite positions. Remus was often clearly in agreement with Alejandro, but spent most of the meeting being as diplomatic as possible toward the Karkhosovs. Iliana wouldn't have expected anything else from the Lord of an Order caught between the two of them.

George obviously considered himself to be the leader among the dragonlords, but the others clearly had a much higher regard for Carandini. The old man's powerful voice, while rarely used, showed considerable insight and wisdom, and she occasionally noticed it subtly influencing the others with a choice word or intonation. She couldn't help but admire Carandini's skill and wit and found his side ended up as the winning one in every discussion.

Finally, the conversation turned to protesting nobles. Apparently, several fiefdoms in Sheliak and Charleans lands were protesting against the dragonriders' tributes, refusing to pay them unless they were lowered. Antonin Karkhosov, Sheliak's Dragonlord, proudly proclaimed his order had completely withdrawn their protection for now and was planning to intervene.

“And by intervening,” Alejandro said, “I assume you mean 'flying in with dragons and burning things until they beg for mercy.'”

“I doubt that will be necessary,” Antonin said smugly. “A flight of dragons coming at them should be enough to scare them into surrender.”

“We,” the robed Dragonlord of Charleans said, “are working on a more diplomatic solution. We are negotiating with the protesting nobles, discussing lowering their tributes where approppriate.”

A great discussion burst loose over this. Several of the dragonlords, Igor and George among them, supported Antonin's methods, said the dragonriders couldn't afford to lose tributes and the normal people had to understand a price had to be paid for their safety. Others, the leaders of Charleans and Thurapur chief among them, argued that a more co-operative solution was better, that the dragonriders had to be mindful of their subjects, and that more aggressive solutions would only end up hurting commoners. Remus joined them, warning that dragons weren't as impossible to defeat for footfolk as they used to be and an intervention could end poorly.

The Dragonlord of Bernhau, a fat man with a huge moustache, laughed. “You can't tell me you think mundanes armed with new-fangled nonsense could defeat our dragons.”

“That's exactly what I think, Lord Sigmund,” Remus said. “A single cannonball can kill a dragon, and they wouldn't exactly enjoy a barrage of muskets either. I doubt the nobles realise this, which is yet more reason not to attack: we wouldn't want them to find out.”

“Oturians,” Lord Sigmund scoffed, “always ready to choose machines over sweat and hard work!”

“We're talking about the safety of our dragons, possibly the security of the position of all draconic orders. It's wise to be careful. Our dragons are not invulnerable, and a lowly baron can muster far more men than all orders together can muster dragons.”

“What flim-flam,” the Lord of Bernhau harrumphed. “I'm with Lord Antonin: let them have dragonfire if they won't pay their tributes. That's why they're called tributes. They're paying their betters to protect them, especially from themselves.”

“The people pay a lot to support our dragons,” Carandini finally spoke. “We should be considerate of that. Our tributes can be too high, and co-operation with our subject states is of course the best way. However,” and here his deep voice took on a more dangerous tone, “there can be no question of who's in charge. Dragonkind protects our world. Without us, there could be nothing. Allowing anyone to subvert the authority of the orders would be disastrous. If we are invited to friendly negotiations, then by all means, we will co-operate, and should consider easing the burdens of those we protect. But they can't be allowed to get the illusion they can force anything from dragonriders. If they refuse to pay their tributes, reap them from their lands. Your dragons can hunt cattle, eat fruit from their orchards. It will be enough of a threat, and without the risk of casualties among your or their rank. ”

“Thank you for your support, Lord Carandini,” Iliana could hear the vile smirk behind Antonin Karkhosov's pointy beard.

As usual, the discussion was over soon after Carandini voiced his opinion. This time, however, it appeared the summit was nearly over. Iliana quickly woke Elise up, leaving before they might be caught by the dragonlords. It was completely dark outside now, and Iliana guiltily realised they didn't have much time left and she had made Elise spend most of it here. She tried to make sure Elise had fun for the rest of the evening. She had looked forward to the fair so much, and she'd end up stuck with Iliana, which she was sure she couldn't enjoy, even if she didn't say so. They walked the city, Iliana taking Elise's every suggestion now. Unfortunately, one of those suggestions was to dance together after all. Reluctantly, she agreed.

As it turned out, Elise was actually a worse dancer than Iliana, but at least she didn't step on her feet. “See?” Elise said with a giggle, as they spun around arm in arm. “You do know how to dance.”

“Knowing and enjoying are two different matters,” Iliana said, raising an eyebrow. “My parents had me take dancing lessons at the Duke's court when I was a girl. Hated them.”

Elise giggled. “I mainly learnt by doing. By which I mean: stepping on people's feet.”

Suddenly Iliana saw two lizardy forms slithering past with an attempt at surreptitiousness. She stopped mid-pace and stepped on Elise's foot as she bumped into her. “Hey!”

“Now where are they sneaking off to?” Iliana asked.

Elise looked and sighed. “Please, Illy, don't tell me you're going to follow them...”

Iliana found herself torn between Elise's pleading face and her own curiosity and anger. If Igor and Antonin Karkhosov were trying to be sneaky, who knew what they were up to? “I'm sorry. I'll go by myself, you can stay here and enjoy yourself.”

But as she walked off, Elise followed her. “No way, I'm coming with you.”

“Elise,” Iliana said, as they followed the two elder Karkhosovs into a street full of gambling stalls, “I've told you again and again, you can go have fun. You don't need to do boring things with me.”

“And I told you: I'm having fun when I'm with you. Besides, I can't let you follow the lizard clan alone: what are you going to do if they notice you and you upset the rotten apple cart? Because I know what I'll do: break their lizard noses.”

Iliana giggled and squeezed her friend's shoulder fondly. “I'm sure it won't come to that.”

Elise shrugged. “Who knows? I think you shouldn't poke the lizards' nest in the first place. The other dragonlords decided: you get to keep Syderet.”

“The Karkhosovs are still dangerous.”

“Maybe, but it's none of your business.”

“Of course it is! They tried to take Syderet away from me. Besides, they're far from harmless. Igor and Antonin are both powerful dragonlords. And I doubt it's coincidence Vladimir ended up in Oturia's candidate list. Igor must have arranged it; he must be planning to somehow use the brat to influence Oturia as well, have three orders at his command.”

The Karkhosovs darted into a tavern. Iliana was about to follow them in when Elise's hand restrained her. “They'll know we're following them.”

“No, they won't. We'll be stealthy.”

Elise rolled her eyes. “Illy, you're dressed like a villain in one of mister Savorini's plays. If you go in there, everyone will look at you.”

“Well, then you-”

Elise gestured to herself. “I'm going to stop you right there, because if you're about to suggest I won't draw any attention in this dress, I'll be very insulted indeed.”

Iliana looked her up and down with a blush. “Er, right, I suppose you would draw attention.”

“How much?” Elise said sweetly.

“Oh, I'm sure every eye will be plastered to you. At any rate, I suppose there's no way we can overhear their conversations without them noticing.”

“Right, so wanna come da-”

“Could you give me a leg up?” Iliana asked, looking at the tavern's small, high window.

Elise sighed. “You know that curiosity killed the early bird, right?”

Iliana gave her a stern look. “Fewer mangled proverbs, more help, please.”

Elise helped Iliana climb onto her shoulders, muttering: “A friend in need is a fool indeed...”

From Elise's shoulders, Iliana could see into the dark, smoky tavern. It didn't take her long to spot two tall, lizard-like shapes sitting at a table with a third man. They were clearly worried about people overhearing as they talked to him in what looked like hushed, conspiratorial tones. There was something familiar about the third man. His attempt at a fancy suit, with its gaudy and mismatched golden embroidery on an ugly, yellow frock coat would've fitted right in the court of Duke Boril. His mahogany complexion, very similar to the one Iliana saw in her own reflection in the glass, also fitted right into Zhyal. Now that she thought of it, she was sure she'd seen that hooknose and moustache in the palace at least once!

“They're talking to someone from Zhyal!” Iliana said.

“So am I,” Elise said, “is she just as stubborn as mine?”

A small smile found its way to Iliana's lips. “He. And I don't know... they look like they get along fairly well. Antonin has a stupid grin on his face, and Igor is busily talking.”

“Isn't that fascinating,” Elise said. “Illy, can you come down now? You're not as light as you look.”

Iliana looked down, noticing her long coat made them look like a single, very tall woman wearing a coat over a dress from behind. “Er, just give me one more moment, alright?”

“Sure.”

The Karkhosovs were still talking to the man from Zhyal. Iliana was more and more sure she'd seen his face before... In Duke Boril's court, nonetheless, she just couldn't quite remember who he was. Her eyes drifted to the standing clock on the wall as she tried to remember. Noticing the time, she almost swore. “Michael is about to leave! We have to go, Elise!”

Elise lowered her down to the ground with a smirk. “What, and leave the mystery unsolved?”

Iliana shuffled around on her feet for one moment, torn. “I'll find out whatever they're up to. But not now... I can't get stuck in Arlesbury.”

6: Zhyal

Iliana was awoken by Syderet's sloppy licks to her face. “Eww, Syderet, stop it! Stop, aaargh, nonono, quit it! Syderet!” She tried to push him away and sternly tell him off, but the effect was ruined a bit by her laughter. Finally, she managed to get up and push him far enough away that his grey tongue couldn't reach her any more. “Good morning to you too,” she said, wiping her face off.

Syderet gave a draconic smirk.

“Well,” Iliana said, looking at the clock, “no wonder you woke me up, I overslept.” Thankfully, Syderet didn't need as many meals a day now, so she didn't have to get up quite as early any more. Even so, she was late. She wagged a finger at her dragon. “The licking doesn't help you, though. It means I'll have to wash more thoroughly before I can make you breakfast.”

As Iliana showered, she suddenly felt a powerful wave of hunger, as if her stomach were a big, empty cave. “Quit that!” she yelled into the quarters, at Syderet. “I know you're hungry, don't project it at me.”

Syderet responded with a couple of squawks and bugles.

“Because it's annoying and rude,” Iliana called back. “And all you'll achieve with it is that you'll make me so hungry I'll eat my own breakfast before I get yours.”

Syderet conceded with something between a grumble and a sigh, the hunger Iliana felt reducing to her own mild morning appetite. She dried herself and got dressed. As usual, Syderet got impatient with her during this, and as usual, she responded with a mild lecture on the importance of sartorial elegance.

Syderet's excitement built as she tied her cravat: from experience, he knew it was always the final touch to her outfit. Iliana grinned at the dapper young woman in the standing mirror, and then at the young blue dragon yipping at her. “Alright, impatient one, time for your breakfast.”

Syderet jumped around with excitement as they walked to the feeding chamber. Iliana made sure to knock on Elise's door in passing: she was likely to sleep in until the afternoon if left to her own devices. A startled trill from Zapa and a mumbly, indistinct moan from her rider responded from within. That'd do as a wake-up call.

The feeding chamber looked like most of the recruits and their dragons had already been there. Luca was the only one there, still working to make breakfast for Almanzor, his bright green dragon. “Hi, Illy,” the black-haired boy said with a smirk. “You're lucky Marco's busy teaching the newest clutch.”

“Iliana,” she said. “And I'm not that late.”

He tossed an apple with the exact same colour as his dragon, who caught it splendidly, as he imitated Marco's deep voice. “Four months of cleaning the floors for you, Miss Cavotta. It's incredibly important your dragon gets to stuff its gob at exactly 7 in the morning!”

Iliana responded with a grin as she gathered Syderet's breakfast. His teeth were strong enough to tear flesh for himself by now, which meant considerably less work butchering for Iliana. On the other hand, he ate far more now, though, and she was still required to bring his food in and ensure he had a healthy balance of meat, fruit, and seeds, and that he ate neither too little nor too much.

Even if making breakfast was less work than it used to be, Iliana would have way more to do the rest of the day. Syderet didn't take afternoon naps any more, and instead she had to spend a lot of time teaching him, playing with him, and taking care of his growing feathers.

“Morning, Illy. Luca.” Elise trudged in with Zapa, her hair looking like a red bird's nest and still wearing a light-blue nightgown that reached only a little below her wide hips.

Iliana blushed at the mere thought of walking around in her own pyjamas. “Good morning. You, er, forgot to change.”

“Did I?” Elise looked down bleary-eyed. “Oh, right... Well, I'll get to that after breakfast...”

“You were at the fair last night, weren't you?” Luca asked, his eyes regularly flitting downward.

“Yes, we were,” Iliana answered. “Hum hum,” she scraped her throat, frowning at the younger boy in disapproval.

Luca blushed deeply as he saw Iliana's scowl and made a point to get food for Almanzor in the far corner, keeping his eyes guiltily away from both the girls entirely. Iliana sighed. Some people really could be very rude. And it wasn't like there was that much cause to stare even if it wasn't rude. Although, now that Iliana thought about it, Elise was probably a very attractive woman, her curvy body barely concealed by her nightdress, but-

It was Iliana's turn to blush deeply and look away, realising she was staring now as she met Elise's amused face. She wanted to say something, explain somehow, but before she had finished compiling her explanation she was already rummaging around in the corner herself, mumbling something inaudible. Luca had recovered from his gaffe, meanwhile, and asked: “So girls, how was the fair? Was it as cool as they say?”

Glad to have a topic to talk about and trying to stop her blush, Iliana said: “It certainly was very interesting.”

Elise nodded vigorously, then regretted it, groaning and grabbing her head. “Yeah... but maybe I shouldn't have drunk so much...”

“You drank?” Luca asked with awe. Iliana smiled. It was sometimes easy to forget how much younger he was, despite having a dragon from the same clutch.

“So my head keeps reminding me,” Elise muttered.

Iliana rolled her eyes theatrically as she smiled. “I don't know how you managed to drink so much in the little time I didn't waste.”

Elise smiled back. “The point of a fair is to have a good time with friends. I'd hardly be doing that if I'd just let you snoop around on your own while I got drunk.”

“Thank you,” Iliana said, touching Elise's hand despite her own reluctance. “I had a good time yesterday, and I wouldn't have without you.”

Elise giggled. “Glad I gave you the chance to eavesdrop on so many dragonlords.”

Iliana raised an eyebrow. “You know I meant the rest of the evening too. It was fun. So how did you manage to get a hangover?”

Elise grinned. “Used the hour or so I had after you and Michael left well. Bunch of drinks and dancing – First with a big bloke from Trisiti with a nice laugh, then a cute girl from Bernhau – she was really nervous at first, but we had a good time together.”

Iliana raised an eyebrow. “You were busy.”

After their dragons were fed, the three of them took their dragons to the underground lake, leaving them by themselves as they set off to train combat manoeuvres outside. In the main hall, Iliana took a quick glance at one of the newspapers being sold. One article in particular caught her eye. She froze, crumpling her coattails in her fists in fury as she paid for the paper and read the article.

“C'mon, Illy,” Elise said, tugging at her sleeve, “we'll get in trouble for being late... What's wrong?”

“This!” Iliana said, furiously pointing at the article. “How dare they?”

Elise frowned. “The Duchy of Zhyal refuses to pay its tributes... Hey, that's your home!”

“Yes!” Iliana snapped, walking on rapidly, her coat flapping behind her. “And we saw the Karkhosovs talk to someone from the Duke's court! They have to have arranged it all!”

Elise ran a bit to keep up. “Well, er, I suppose so. You think they're trying to sabotage the other orders?”

Iliana laughed coldly. “Zhyal pays tributes to Golgosk. Igor doesn't want to sabotage anyone, he just wants an excuse to compete with his son in a game of peasant hunting! And he's going to do it in Zhyal!”

Iliana was livid as she stepped out onto the cold peak. When she saw Vladimir, she had to breathe very calmly to stop herself running over to him and trying to strangle him for his father's actions. She made do with glowering at him as she followed Elise. There were at least forty recruits out on the mountaintop, none of them with dragons and barely any dressed with any sense of style whatsoever. It wasn't enough to waste Iliana's time with this nonsense while Igor Karkhosov was slaughtering people in Zhyal: her eyes had to be assaulted by drab clothes as well. Their various teachers stood on an outcropping of rock as they instructed the recruits. Iliana was too infuriated to listen to the full details, but as the exercise begun, the gist became clear to her: they were practising manoeuvring without their dragons, as collisions and other accidents would be much more of a problem once they were riding them.

It felt a little silly, standing about in the snow in formation, everyone running about whenever the teachers shouted a command. At first, it was complete chaos, but slowly, they learnt to keep distance from one another and how to move without messing up the formation. Then they formed two formations and moved through each other, practising until everyone managed to keep enough distance between each other even now. At one point, Vladimir, who was in the other formation, happened to pass right by Iliana. She took her chance and tripped him in passing, quickly hurrying to avoid being spotted as she heard the lizard's swears behind her.

After training, Iliana had the rest of the day to brood over what was happening in Zhyal and foment some kind of plan. She asked several riders and servants who went out in that direction for any news they might pick up about Zhyal. More news trickled in over the next few days. Golgosk had begun pillaging Zhyal lands, taking a great toll on the peasants. Some of them had been killed trying to protect their livelihood already, but Golgosk refused to negotiate: Igor would only accept a total surrender.

Iliana's mood darkened every time there was news from Zhyal. The situation only got worse. After a few days of bad news, she stamped into the underground lake's room with a newspaper, Syderet trailing behind her. “Can you believe that – that slithering saurian slimesack?!”

Elise briefly mouthed the words 'slithering saurian slimesack' before replying: “What's happened now?”

Iliana angrily threw her newspaper on the ground. “Torched an entire village! Those people had nothing to do with the Duke's decision, and even if they had, it's barbaric, vile, and Igor engineered Zhyal's protest himself in the first place!”

Syderet gently laid nudged her side and made a crooning noise.

Iliana gave his feathers a ruffle. “Don't worry about me, sweetie, go on, have your bath.”

Syderet gave her a lick and jumped into the lake excitedly, splashing water all over Iliana and Elise. “Er, sorry,” Iliana said, squeezing water out of her frock coat, which had taken the worst of the brunt.

Elise grinned. “It's alright. At least he's happy.”

Iliana nodded, looking wistfully at Syderet ruffling his feathers as he bathed. “These past few days have been a good exercise in shielding my mind from him, if nothing else. I don't want him constantly angry too.”

Elise gently squeezed Iliana's upper arm. “It'll be alright, Illy.”

“How?”

“The Duke will probably give in and pay his tribute.”

“He's already invited Igor to negotiate, but that filthy bag of slime won't accept, claiming the Duke might break a truce and take him hostage. He says it's to be a total surrender, so he can dictate the terms himself, or nothing.”

Elise sighed. “And of course it's just an excuse to keep going... I take it the Duke refuses to meet on neutral ground?”

“Of course. Doesn't trust Igor not to take him hostage. Well, who would? And so Igor has an excuse to keep murdering his way through Zhyal.” Iliana frowned as an idea began to form in her mind.

Elise sadly watched the dragons play about in the water.

“If there was some way we could force Igor to negotiate...” Iliana muttered. “But even if we could, what's to stop him from just demanding unreasonable things so the Duke refuses?”

Elise nodded. “I guess it would just be his word against the Duke's...”

Iliana grabbed Elise's shoulders excitedly, then immediately thought better of it and retracted her hands. “But what if there was an impartial observer?! They would not only ensure Igor would have to negotiate, but also that he'd be reasonable.”

“Er,” Elise said. “Good idea, but-”

Iliana grinned. “Better yet: what if I was that observer?”

“I don't know if you'd be allowed.”

Iliana paced around, excitedly thinking up her plan. “I think I could convince Remus! I've got inside knowledge of the Duke's court, after all! And while I'm there, I could look for the man with the moustache and expose him!”

“Well, then, why don't we go to Remus and tell him we're going to Zhyal?” Elise said, clapping her hands excitedly.

“We?”

“Well, obviously I'm coming.”

“...That might be harder to get him to agree.”

–

Remus listened intently as Iliana made their case for Oturia acting as an impartial negotiator in Zhyal, ensuring Igor's safety in the Duke's palace and, incidentally, forcing him to talk in the first place or lose face. While it didn't take long to warm him to the idea, it was harder to convince him that Iliana should be their representative.

“I grew up in the Duke's court, Remus,” Iliana said, briefly casting a glance through the large far window of Remus's office, which looked out over the huge, bustling main hall. “I know its ins and outs. I know people who can make sure the Duke is more open to our ideas. A tailor has regular constant with the entire nobility, not to mention servants and guards. A tailor's shop is an excellent place to overhear gossip and secrets.”

“Besides,” Elise piped up, “Iliana is very shrewd and... Er...” In a whisper she asked: “Illy, what's a nice word for 'manipulative'?”

Iliana continued, deciding not to answer that. “I didn't just spend my youth in the Duke's palace: my parents still work there. They can easily provide me with more information and contacts.”

Remus leaned forward on his elbows. “Thank you for the idea, Iliana, I will certainly send a delegation to Zhyal. I'm afraid you can't be one of them, though.”

“But Remus...” Iliana began.

“You've got a young dragon to take care of,” Remus calmly explained, “and you don't have a particularly high position in the Oturian Order in the first place. You're just a recruit, after all. We simply don't know you well enough yet to put you in charge of negotiations. It would be far too big a responsibility for you to shoulder. Besides, Lord Igor and Duke Boril might both take offence at your rank.”

“You could send another rider with me,” Iliana said. “Have them be the leader of the diplomatic party. I would be an invaluable asset to them, as both a dragonrider and a Zhyalan.”

Remus frowned. “Hmm. Krum Belov hails from Zhyal, and his rank and experience would make him perfect for a diplomatic mission... Even if his personality might not be.”

Elise smiled radiantly. “Perfect! Then he can be the leader while we handle diplomacy.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “We?”

Elise blushed. “Er, well, Iliana is good at plotting and thinking and such, but I'm good at talking. It's my greatest talent, and I've actually had some training in this sort of thing. Iliana has trouble talking properly to people she doesn't know,” Iliana tried to shut her up with a glower, but Elise continued, “but I know how to connect with people, entertain them, diplomacy-tise with them.”

Remus smirked, his eyebrows raised. “Marco tells me you're a bit of a hellion, always making trouble and never paying much attention in class.”

Elise blushed. “Well-”

Iliana jumped in. “That's what I'll be there for. Elise and I make a great team. Just ask Marco if she has actually failed any tests or if she and Zapa underperformed in any of our trainings. Elise may not be the most attentive or well-read person, but she's got a good intuition and a sharp wit.”

Elise flushed and gratefully brushed her hand against Iliana's.

Remus was silent in thought for a moment, then nodded. Elise whooped loudly, then apologised for her outburst. “I will send Krum as our diplomatic envoy,” Remus said. “The two of you can join him, but only to learn and, if Krum asks for it, to advice. It's important for our dragonriders to be able to represent Oturia, and I think this is an excellent opportunity for you two to learn some diplomacy, since you clearly want to.”

“Thank you,” Iliana said.

“But let me make this very clear: you will follow Krum in everything. You will only observe during the negotiations and talk to no-one unless he authorises it. This will be Krum's mission, and you two will be there as his apprentices.”

Iliana and Elise promised to obey as Remus sent for Krum Belov, who joined them in the office after a few minutes. He was an old man with a short goatee and grey hair slicked up in peaks on top of his head. His careworn, brown face had wrinkles everywhere, and he wore a similarly aged and worn-out brown leather coat. His voice as he curtly greeted Remus was posh, but gravelly. He listened quietly to Remus explain the plan, only nodding occasionally, but when the Dragonlord explained that Iliana and Elise would accompany him, he bristled, his brow setting into fierce wrinkles. “This is a dangerous diplomatic mission, not a school trip! I'm not taking children along.”

“Hey! We're of age!” Elise said.

“Hrmpf,” Krum growled, “only barely, I'll bet. What are you, seventeen?”

“Eighteen,” Iliana said.

“And a half!” Elise added proudly. Iliana rolled her eyes.

“Eighteen and a half and riding a dragon! Hrmpf, they get younger all the time...”

Iliana adjusted her cravat. “The age limits on candidates at hatchings have been fifteen to thirty for several centuries. I don't believe there's been any significant downward trend in dragonriders' ages.”

Krum responded only with a grunt.

Remus scraped his throat. “Regardless, miss Cavotta and miss Berlioz will accompany you, Krum. I suggest you instruct them as best you can.”

“Hmrpf,” Krum said with a frown. “If those are your orders...”

“They are.”

“Fine, then, let them come. But I'm not giving them a ride on Sredna. She's getting too old for passengers.”

“That's alright,” Remus said, “I was planning on sending a party of five riders anyway. We'll send two more with you; their dragons can carry Elise and Iliana.”

“I know just the guy for giving Iliana rides!” Elise said, prompting another glare from Iliana.

“Five? It might not be so bad, then,” Krum muttered.

Remus raised his eyebrows. “Indeed. I'll leave the rest of the planning in your capable hands, Krum.”

“Lord Remus,” Iliana said, “before we go, I have to ask you to ensure Vladimir Karkhosov doesn't leave Oturia.”

Remus frowned. “And why is that?”

“It might be easier to get Igor to co-operate if Oturia has a hostage.”

“Illy!” Elise shrieked.

Remus scowled. “I refuse to restrict the boy's movements because of who his father is. As for threatening his life, that's completely out of the question.”

“It's not just his father,” Iliana said, feeling a blush of shame rise at the Dragonlord's disapproval. “His brother is Dragonlord of Sheliak, and everyone knows that basically makes Igor Dragonlord of both orders. Vladimir has obviously been placed here at Oturia as a weapon for his family to use. I bet he's told them all kinds of juicy details about us. Why not use their own weapon against them?”

Remus's frown deepened. “Vladimir Karkhosov is a boy, not a weapon. I don't doubt that his father has his own reasons to place him in Oturia, but that doesn't mean we should stoop to his level. Vladimir Karkhosov has the makings of a good dragonrider, despite his transgressions. We have to give him an honest chance and treat him as a person, not his father's tool.”

Iliana kept her expression carefully neutral even as she wanted to roll her eyes at such naïve nonsense. “If we treat him as a person, he's an unspeakably vile and unpleasant one who doesn't deserve such consideration. It would be far easier to convince Igor to co-operate if we took his son hostage.”

“Say I don't take the Duke's side,” Remus said, “but Igor's. I am a fellow dragonrider, after all. I could take you hostage to convince the Duke to co-operate. You said yourself, your parents have contacts in his court. But you did nothing to deserve that, and I have no right to treat you like that. I will not take hostages unless I'm forced to.”

Iliana wanted to argue further, but saw there was no point. Besides, she was starting to realise she was being very rude to the Dragonlord. “I'm sorry, Dragonlord, I spoke out of turn.”

“So you did,” Remus said, “but I value the suggestion. I'm just not going to do it. Dismissed.”

As they left Remus' office, Krum chuckled. “I'll say this, lass: you've got spirit, arguing with Remus and taking hostages.”

“I'm sorry,” Iliana said, her scalp still tingling with shame over Remus's disapproval.

“No, I mean it. You remind me of my granddaughter.”

“She sounds fun,” Elise said. “Any chance I know her?”

Krum gave a surprisingly warm smile. “She's a lovely girl. Used to love it when I dropped by on Sredna. She'd always ask me if she could have one of her feathers.” Then his smile waned and his face settled back into its grim lines. “But no, you won't know her. She doesn't live in Oturia, she's a soldier in the Ithralian army.”

“You must be proud of her,” Iliana said, before noticing Elise's gesture trying to shush her.

Krum scowled at her. “Must I? Hrmpf.”

Embarrassed by her gaffe, Iliana followed Krum in the stony silence that ensued. The old man had completely closed himself off again, only replying to Elise's attempts at small talk with grunts. He gave the two of them curt instructions once he'd introduced them to his dragon, a grouchy old beast whose brown feathers had become ruffled and faded with age. Krum's instructions essentially amounted to “Don't do anything, just watch, listen, and stay out of the way.”

Since Krum clearly had no plans to discuss their mission any further, Iliana headed back to her quarters to spend as much time as she could with Syderet. He and Zapa would be cared for by prospective candidates while Iliana and Elise were away, letting them practice what taking care of a young dragon was like. There was thus no need to worry about him, but that didn't mean being separated for the first time since he'd hatched wouldn't be painful for both rider and dragon.

She hadn't counted on Vladimir Karkhosov intercepting her on an empty corner near her quarters. “Iliana Cavotta,” he said with a nasty smirk as he looked about theatrically in the empty corridor. “And all on your own.”

Vladimir hadn't grabbed her arm this time, but he didn't need to: he had her cornered, blocking her way onward. Iliana forced herself to look at him, fighting down both terror and disgust. “Vladimir. I'm afraid I don't have time to chat.”

Vladimir set a step forward, still smirking. “Oh, I think you do. I know you don't have any classes this afternoon, so you won't be missed.”

Iliana forced herself not to blink or look away even as a sliver of ice slid down her back at the implied threat. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction. “I-I have an appointment with Marco.”

“No, you don't. He's teaching an older group. You've got time to talk to me.”

“Syderet-” Iliana began.

“The dragon you stole isn't here either,” Vladimir said. “We're all alone.”

“I-I didn't steal anything, Vladimir. Your dad and brother were forced to concede he's mine only a few days ago.” Iliana cursed both the tremble in her voice and the fact that she was speaking up like this in the first place. She should be buying time and trying to placate him, not challenging him! “You Karkhosovs change your tune quickly when there's a higher authority to suck up to, are you?”

The smirk disappeared, and Iliana was starting to thoroughly regret her pride. “Dad and Antonin answer to no-one.”

“Lord Carandini seems to think otherwise,” Iliana foolishly said.

Vladimir loomed over her. “You think you're so smart, don't you?”

“I like to follow public opinion.” When was she going to close her big mouth? She spotted a red shape moving behind Vladimir. Careful not to grin in relief or even look away, she decided to have some fun. “Anyway, when you finally hit puberty, are you going to grow as stupid a beard as your butcher of a brother?”

“Antonin-”

“I can't tell he's got the right idea, trying to hide the unfortunate facial configuration all of you share, or if he's just making it worse. Such a pity your dad's genes seem to be dominant. Unless your mother looks like a lizard too?”

Vladimir's voice turned to a low growl. “Shut up about my family, or-”

“Or what?” Iliana snapped. “You'll hurt me? Very brave, threatening someone more than a head shorter than you! But then again, with your dad and brother busy hurting people who can't defend themselves, how could you not join the family sport? Just-”

Suddenly, Vladimir lurched at her, pushing her against the wall, his hand tight around her throat while his leg kept hers pinned, preventing her from fighting back. “Big words from such a little girl.”

At that moment, Elise's fist hit his right ear rather hard, knocking him to the ground. “Then try a bigger girl, sleazebag!”

Elise dived on top of Vladimir, punching him right in the face before he could defend himself. Vladimir had the advantage of height and weight, but Elise was on top and more sturdily built than the lanky lizard. Iliana had to recover from the shock of his sudden attack, even if she had planned it, retying her cravat as she watched Elise give Vladimir a couple of solid punches. She smiled as he managed to escape and ran away, tripping over his own feet. “Are you alright?” Elise asked, wiping some blood from her lip from the one time Vladimir had managed to hit her back. “What a bilgebag!”

Iliana nodded gratefully. “I'm well, thanks to you. Seeing that felt really good.”

Elise giggled and affectionately patted Iliana's shoulder. “Not half as good as doing that felt! He really deserved that, attacking you like that!” She frowned. “...Oh, crumbs. I'll probably get in trouble for this.. They might not allow me to go to Zhyal...”

Iliana gave her a look. “You think an idiot of that magnitude will want to admit he was beaten up by a girl? And even if he does, you'll have an alibi. You were with me the whole time, after all, playing with Syderet. Sorry about that bump on your lip, by the way. You know what young dragons can be like.”

–

Iliana gave Syderet a big hug the next morning, ruffling his feathers and promising she'd come back soon. He didn't quite understand, of course, but hopefully he'd only be alone for one night. As she walked to the rest of the party and climbed on Bheithir behind Michael, whom Elise had successfully convinced to join them, Iliana felt a sudden surge of panic. She was probably in way over her head, taking Elise and Michael down with her, she barely knew Krum and didn't know her other travel companion at all, she didn't know where she'd sleep tonight, maybe Syderet would blame her for leaving him alone, she'd probably have to talk to Michael during the flight again, and if-

Iliana screamed with joy and fear as the red, green, and yellow dragon beneath her ran to the precipice at the north of the Oturian peak and lazily let itself plunge over, falling straight down for dozens of metres before suddenly spreading out his wings, catching the air and turning his dive into a graceful swoop. They zoomed rapidly over the mountainside before finally pulling up in a slow arc.

“You alright?” Michael asked with amusement.

“Definitely!” Iliana called back, catching her breath. She loved the view, the speed, the feeling of the wind making her coat billow impressively behind her. “That was incredible! I can't wait until Syderet can do that!”

“Better wait a while,” Michael said, “it's not safe for young dragons.” He winced as Krum made some arm gestures from his dragon's back. “And I don't think Krum much liked us doing that either... We're not actually supposed to.”

“Pity,” Iliana said, her heart still thumping loudly, “I don't think I'll ever stop doing that when Syderet can fly me.”

Michael smiled. “We'll have to cool it with the stunts for a while, or I'll never hear the end of it.”

“I understand,” Iliana said.

Bheithir rowred questioningly and Michael shrugged. “Well... Maybe we can do some more fancy flying when Krum's not paying attention.”

It was a long flight to Zhyal, but also a fun one. Iliana found Michael much easier to talk to now that they'd settled on the subject of dragons. He had plenty of stories to tell of when Bheithir used a hatchling, and, true to his word, showed off some breathtaking manoeuvres once he was sure Krum wasn't watching. Iliana was quite sure Elise and the woman riding the maroon-and-tangerine dragon carrying her did watch, however. In fact, she soon began showing off with loops and dives as well – at least until Elise began to squeak and protest.

They followed the mountain range northward, past smaller and rounder peaks than the foreboding triangular mt. Oturia. They eventually veered off into the lowlands, the mountains becoming distant giants on the horizon, and that's when Iliana spotted it: on the side of one of the mountains, looking tiny by comparison, stood a dark, grey castle, looking out over the plains it ruled. Golgosk. Tiny specks of dragons flew around the great fortress.

But Iliana's eye was drawn by the city at the river ahead. She'd recognise that skyline anywhere. She'd seen it from the palace's windows and balconies many a time, and walked among it at least as often. The houses were painted over with bright whites and yellows to hide the brickwork, and often there were figures or emblems painted on them as well. The palace looked curiously blocky from above, a lot of right angles in the white building's design. The three dragons landed in the palace gardens and their five riders dismounted quickly as guards in the unfortunately coloured and often ill-fitting uniforms of Zhyal rushed towards them.

Iliana quickly smoothed out her clothing and ran a hand through her hair to make it look a bit more presentable. Elise and Michael glanced about nervously. “Er,” Michael said, “Krum... should we maybe get back on the dragons?”

The old man ignored him, taking point as the guards reached them and uncertainly pointed muskets in the general direction of the dragonriders. “Good afternoon. I am Krum Belov, Oturian diplomat. I would like to talk to Duke Boril.”

The guards exchanged uncertain glances. “Oturians?” one of them asked.

“Could you make sure our dragons get fed?” Krum asked, ignoring the weapons aimed at him. “One pig and some pieces of fruit each should suffice for now. Come,” he gestured for the others to follow him as he walked right through the ranks of the guards.

The guards didn't dare stop the dragonriders, but awkwardly followed them around. “Sir, please, this is-”

“Miss Cavotta,” Krum said pleasantly, ignoring the muskets still being waved around, “please lead us to the chamberlain and have him assign us guest quarters.”

Iliana nodded as they walked to the palace doors, doing her best to follow Krum's example and ignore the guards bustling about anxiously.

The guard who had spoken before tried to bar Krum's way. “I'm sorry sir, but you are not allowed-”

“Not allowed?!” Krum said. “Hrmpf, I'm allowed everywhere. Just be off with you and tell the Duke.”

After a moment, the guard did dash off, the others only following at a greater distance. “Was that diplomatic?” Elise whispered.

“Diplomacy is wasted on some people,” Krum muttered.

Iliana shrugged. “He didn't seem to have much to add anyway, repeating himself like that.”

–

The Duke's palace was incredible! There were statues, paintings, tapestries, and other ornaments everywhere, and the garden had been full of pretty bees and butterflies buzzing around. Elise sniffed the air happily as the party passed by the kitchens: they were making something delicious. Her stomach gave a brief pang of desire, but there was no time for food now, they had a mission to fulfil! Iliana was bravely leading the group, her long legs giving her quite a pace. Behind her came that grumpy old Krum, then Elise herself, the handsome but awkward Michael, and finally Conchita, the girl who had flown Elise to Zhyal. She'd only met her this morning, but she'd found on the journey she was quite nice, not to mention ticklish.

The chamberlain, like the guards, was very confused by the dragonriders, but Krum got him to assign them quarters in much the same way as he got past the guards: by ignoring every protest and simply repeating himself. Once they had their quarters, the old bore gave a long talk outlining all kinds of things they were supposed to do and rules they were supposed to obey and blablabla. Elise was a little too busy looking out of the window and making eyes at Michael to listen much. It was usually easier and much less boring to just let Iliana do the listening, then have her feel smart for being able to explain things to Elise.

When Krum was finally done boring them, Elise grabbed Iliana's hand – the dapper girl pulled her hand away as usual, of course – and asked her for a tour of the palace. The Duke was out hunting, so they had time anyway. They didn't get far before a deep voice stopped them.

“My little Ilinka, you've grown so much!” A big, bearded man in fancy clothing like Iliana's, but far more colourful, came running up to them, grabbed Iliana around the waist, and lifted her up.

Iliana tried to smooth her clothes when he put her down again. “Father, it's nice to see you. And it's Iliana.” Elise giggled at Iliana's stiff tones. Who actually called her father 'Father' anyway?

The big man laughed. “I know, my little girl, I picked the name myself! Now,” he turned to look on Elise, his piercingly intelligent brown eyes suddenly looking very familiar, “who is this beautiful flower?”

“This is Elise Berlioz, my...” Iliana suddenly peered at Elise too, as if she wasn't sure, “friend?”

Elise nodded, a little bit hurt. Didn't Iliana know they were friends? But the next moment, two strong arms lifted her into the air. Elise squeaked in surprise as mister Cavotta laughed a deep laugh and gave her a bone-crushing hug. “My little Ilinka made a friend! How wonderful, thank you so much, Elise!”

Iliana fretted with her cravat, her blush easily visible through her mahogany skin, and she mouthed the word 'sorry' to Elise as her father put her down. “Nice to meet you, sir!” Elise said with a smile. “You give nicely warm hugs.”

Iliana's father laughed bombastically and clapped Elise on the back almost hard enough that her lungs flew out her mouth. “Ha! Iliana, not just a friend, but a polite one too!”

“Tell me about it,” Iliana said with a small smile.

“Well, fantastic to see both of you! Why don't you come over for dinner?”

“Ooh,” Elise began, “dinner would be-”

“I'm sorry, father,” Iliana said, “but we're here on business for Oturia and really far too busy.”

“Oh,” Elise said, recognising the call for help in Iliana's eyes. “Yeah, we really are, mister Cavotta.”

“Well, you can't be too busy to say hello to your mother at least,” mister Cavotta said in tones that allowed no argument. “Not when we're this close to home.”

“I could just talk with you here for a while,” Iliana said, fretting with her cravat, “and you could convey my greetings to mother.”

“Nonsense, your mother will want to see you, come along! And don't pluck your clothes like that. It's bad enough to have to tell the Duke without having to reprimand my daughter as well!”

“I'm sorry, father,” Iliana said, stuffing her hands into her pockets as the three of them walked together.

Elise decided to break the slightly tense silence. “I like your clothes, sir. Nicely colourful.”

Iliana's father guffawed. “Thank you, thank you. Are you hearing this, Iliana? Your friend likes colours!”

“I like colours,” Iliana protested.

“Then why do you wear all that blue?”

“Blue is a colour. A colour I like.”

“Well, take a note from your friend. Red hair, brown jacket, yellow top, blue shorts. Those are some nicely varied colours.”

“Er, well,” Elise said, “Iliana does wear many different shades of blue. I think it looks very nice, really.”

They had arrived at a tailors' shop within the palace. It hung full of nice, fancy clothes of all kinds. Nothing really that Elise would wear herself, but she'd bet Iliana would look gorgeous in a lot of it. “Zofiya! Zofiya!” mister Cavotta bellowed. “Zofiya, it's little Ilinka! And she made a friend!”

“A friend?” A tall, thin lady in a stylish, grey dress emerged from behind the omnipresent clothes. She looked a lot like an older Iliana with deep frown lines and grey hair tied in a ponytail. A pair of dark eyes peered coldly over a pair of half-moon spectacles.

“Elise Berlioz,” Elise introduced herself, feeling a little intimidated by the sharp glare cast over her. It was reminiscent of the way Iliana could glower when she got angry, but far colder.

“Zofiya Markov,” Iliana's mother said, before turning to look over Iliana with a tiny smile. “Iliana, you are well, I hope.” It didn't even sound like a question.

“Yes, mother,” Iliana said, casting down her eyes.

“They have no time for dinner, Zofiya,” mister Cavotta said.

“Tea won't take long,” Zofiya said, “and I want to hear everything that's happened to you, Iliana.”

Iliana sighed as they followed her mother into the back of the shop, to some living quarters. “Yes, mother.”

Suddenly Iliana's father gasped and grabbed his daughter by the shoulders. She shook his grip off with annoyance. “I forgot, you are a dragonrider now! Those beautiful dragons outside... is one of them yours?”

“Syderet is too young to fly, father,” Iliana explained, “he's back in Oturia.”

“A pity. But at least you brought Elise here!” Iliana's father beamed proudly.

Iliana's mother gave another tiny smile. “I'm glad you made a friend.”

“And why shouldn't she?” Elise spoke up angrily, despite Iliana immediately shaking her head. “Iliana is nice, clever, fun, and charming, and I like her immensely! Why do you act like it's a miracle your daughter has friends? That's very rude, you know!”

“Because you're sort of the first friend I've ever had...” Iliana muttered.

Elise grabbed Iliana's hand, but she pulled hers away. “Really?”

“There's no 'sort of' about it, young lady,” Iliana's mother said.

Tears shot into Elise's eyes as she contemplated the idea of having no friends at all. “Why?” she whispered tenderly at Iliana.

“The other girls were afraid of my intelligence,” Iliana mumbled.

“They thought you were different and weird,” her mother corrected.

“That too...”

“Well, I think you're delightful, no matter how different, weird, and intelligent you may be!” Elise protested, feeling very out of place and awkward to be listening to Iliana's mother talk to her like that.

“Nonsense,” Iliana's father said, ignoring Elise's outburst, “it didn't have anything to do with any of that, you just didn't open up to them. You're too shy, Iliana. You have to learn to communicate. A tailor needs to be good with people.”

Iliana frowned, a dangerous gleam in her eyes. “Then it's a good thing I'm not a tailor.”

“An explorer-”

“Dragonrider,” Iliana said proudly. “I'm a dragonrider. And I'm here on dragonriders' business, not to have you two lecture me. Come, Elise, let's go.”

Elise gave Iliana's parents a somewhat apologetic look, though not too much so, as Iliana stormed out of the shop. Elise quickly ran after her, catching up to her at a window. She was looking out morosely, looking almost as forbidding as her mother.

Elise began to hug her before stopping herself. “Sorry, I keep forgetting you don't like to be touched.”

To her surprise, Iliana not only turned towards her, eyes glistening with tears, but actually hugged her. “I think it's alright if it's you...” she whispered next to Elise's ear.

Elise rubbed her back, happy to finally get to embrace her friend, feeling her warm, thin body wrapped in those soft clothes against hers, but feeling awful for her. “I'm so sorry for all that.”

Iliana sighed deeply, still holding Elise tightly. “Nothing you can do about it.”

Elise frowned. “I could pun-”

Iliana let go, creating a bit more distance between them so they were facing each other. She was smiling. “I really don't think punching my parents would be a good idea. Though they sometimes deserve it.”

Elise blushed and shrugged. “Sorry.”

Iliana shrugged Elise's arms off. “Er, you know, don't worry about me. My parents can be a bit difficult, especially my mother, but they mean well, really. I'll make up with them later.”

Elise nodded and grabbed Iliana's hand, figuring she needed more support than she'd admit. “Illy, I meant what I said. I think you're wonderful, and if those girls didn't want to be your friends, then... then they don't deserve you! I'm proud to be your friend.”

Iliana blushed and pulled her hand away. “Er, thank you. I, um, well...” she scraped her throat. “Let's go back now; I don't feel like continuing the tour.”

“Alright,” Elise said, giving Iliana's shoulder an affectionate rub.

Iliana tapped Elise's nose. “By the way, just because I said you touching me is okay doesn't mean you should be doing it all the time, alright?”

Elise saluted teasingly. “Aye aye, madam! I'll take it easy on the hugging.”

–

The Duke's throne room was silent under the silent scorn of its owner. The Duke was a small man in an unfortunately over-the-top decorated suit, garish and unpleasant to look at. Not that surprising, considering Iliana's father had designed it. The Duke glared at the five dragonriders from under bushy eyebrows. “The Order of Golgosk pillages our lands daily, sparing lives nor livelihoods. Igor Karkhosov has all but declared war on the people of Zhyal. And yet what do I find in my own palace gardens but three dragons, their riders already happily taking advantage of my hospitality inside?”

“Your Grace,” Krum said, his voice level and calm despite the Duke's lack of respect, “we have come from Oturia as a neutral arbiter in your conflict with Golgosk.”

The Duke scoffed. “And I'm supposed to believe that? Neutral, hah! As if you'd do anything against the interests of your fellow dragonriders!”

Krum waited for the buzz in the room to die down before speaking again, still in neutral tones. “We are here to ensure the safety of both you and Lord Igor. Oturia will abide by whatever settlement you come to.”

“Safety?!” The Duke shouted. “I don't need protection from your kind in my own palace, dragonrider! Your dragons may be mighty against simple peasant villages, but they'll find my cannons a different matter!”

Conchita stiffened with anger, her hand shooting to the hilt of her blade, while Elise balled her fists. Krum gestured for them to settle down. “Your Grace, our dragons aren't attacking your peasant villages. Oturia wants to see this crisis resolved.”

The Duke sniffed haughtily. “What guarantee do I have of that?”

“You have mine!” someone said. Iliana only realised it was her when Krum furiously turned to her.

The Duke seemed to notice her for the first time. “Yours, dragonrider? And who are you? Your face seems familiar...”

Iliana flushed at having all eyes on her. “I'm Iliana Cavotta, daughter of Paolo Cavotta and Zofiya Markov, Your Grace.”

The chancellor, a tall, very dark man who sat next to the Duke, brightened. “The little girl who always wanted to measure everything and everyone? Why, I had no idea you'd become a dragonrider!” The chancellor looked about self-consciously. “Er, you are known to us.”

Iliana blushed. She'd forgotten that. “Um, indeed. My point is: I'm Zhyalan. I want the best for the Duchy. You have my guarantee Oturia is here with nothing but honourable intentions.”

Krum pushed her back. “Thank you, miss Cavotta,” he grumbled.

The Duke frowned. “I will accept your word for now, Iliana Cavotta. If Oturia really is here to make peace, your help is most needed. Igor Karkhosov has refused our every invitation to settle this peacefully.”

Iliana made an involuntary sound of amusement. Of course he would. He was behind it all!

“Lord Remus has personally gone to Golgosk to convince Lord Igor to give peace a chance,” Krum explained.

At that moment, Iliana spotted him: the moustached man she'd seen talking to the Karkhosovs in Arlesbury! He entered the throneroom with a tray of refreshments. A servant. An odd choice for an ally, but a sensible one. Some servants had their master's ear in ways no noble had. Elise breathed in sharply, but Iliana gestured for her to wait. It wouldn't do to start blurting out accusations right now. Iliana watched the moustached servant finish his job, her mind ablaze as she completely tuned out of the conversation. Krum was discussing ways to conduct the negotiations with the Duke, possible peace proposals Igor might agree to while still lightening Zhyal's load.

The sound of dragons landing outside startled the entire court. A few serbvants hurried back and forth, talking to the Duke, and then Igor Karkhosov strutted into the throneroom, flanked by eight other dragonriders. All of them were male, and all of them were dressed in stark whites and blacks reminiscent of Golgosk's emblem. Three of them had lizardy features that betrayed them as yet more members of the Karkhosov family.

Igor grinned as he walked in. “Krum, my old friend, how nice to see you again!” Then, insultingly late, he looked upon the Duke. “And Duke Boril.”

“Karkhosov,” Krum said in as neutral a tone as he could.

“I didn't know you were friends with Lord Igor,” the Duke said icily to Krum. “I had thought you a wiser man than that, dragonrider.” Iliana couldn't help but agree with him.

“We know each other,” Krum said. “I was Lord Igor's teacher when he was a recruit.”

Igor grinned. “And what a teacher you were! Such a pity you transferred. A great loss for Golgosk.”

Iliana scraped her throat, hoping to remind Krum to stop the reminiscing and get back to the negotiations.

Igor smiled nastily. “Ah, and you brought the oh so special miss Cavotta. I see making Contact with a leader convinced her she's welcome not just at the dragonlords' summit, but also here during these negotiations.

Krum cut off Iliana's reply. “Lord Igor, we are all here to discuss terms of peace between the Order of Golgosk and the Duchy of Zhyal.”

“So we are,” Igor said with a smile. “I've taken the liberty of drawing up an agreement.” A member of his retinue handed the Duke a scroll.

The Duke scowled more and more as he read. “This is preposterous! These tributes are far higher than they were!”

“Did you expect there would be no retribution for your treason?” Igor asked.

“Treason!” the Duke bellowed.

“Treason,” Igor said calmly. “You owe your allegiance to the Order of Golgosk. The blood of our dragons keeps your lands safe. Evil creatures would have overrun your borders long ago if it wasn't for us.”

“You'll see how my army deals with evil creatures, dragonfarmer!” the Duke snapped.

“Lord Igor,” Krum said, “the Zhyalan herds have thinned lately, while their mines have thrived. I'm sure the tributes would be easier to fulfil if you agreed to receive fewer animals in exchange for compensation in metals.”

“I will pay no metals to this bandit!” The Duke roared.

Krum made to talk further, but Iliana whispered: “Let's continue tomorrow, this is going nowhere.” That would give her time to expose the moustached servant.

The old man nodded. “Lord Igor, Duke Boril. I propose a recess. Negotiations will continue tomorrow.”

Igor smiled. “Good idea, I'm sure the Duke will be less obstinate by then.”

–

Later that evening, after dinner, Iliana and Elise decided to shadow the moustached servant. Under pretence of continuing the tour Iliana had started, they managed to stay in his broad vicinity without drawing too much suspicion. For an hour or two, he didn't do much interesting, just going in and out of the kitchen and serving food and drinks around the palace. But when he delivered a pair of drinks to Igor's quarters, he stayed inside much longer. Iliana would've loved to have eavesdropped, but two members of Igor's retinue stood guard outside. Still, it was evidence they were up to no good together.

When the servant finally left Igor's quarters, Iliana couldn't believe her luck: he was carrying some papers with what looked like hand-written notes and diagrams on it, quickly folding them and putting them in his pocket. “That's the evidence we need,” she whispered excitedly.

“Are you sure?” Elise asked.

“What else could it be? They're plotting more stuff together, I'm sure of it.”

“Ooh,” Elise said excitedly, “are we going to steal them?”

Iliana nodded.

“We could get a grappling hook and climb into his window at night, like in “Vittorio the Vagabond”, or we could get him to bet them in a game of poker like in “Dice and Deceit in Thurapur”!”

Iliana grinned. “I like mister Savorini's plays as much as you, but I've got a plan that's both simpler and more likely to succeed.”

A few minutes later, they walked up to the servant together. Elise parked herself square in front of him. “Hey, you!” she said.

“Madam?”

“You gave me the wrong drink earlier!” Elise said as Iliana carefully positioned herself closer to the servant, yet still next to Elise so he wouldn't get suspicious. “I ordered applejuice and rum, but you gave me rum and applejuice.”

“Yes?”

Iliana slipped her hand into his pocket, grabbing the folded papers and lifting them from his pocket. For one terrifying moment, the servant seems to look away, but Elise immediately raised her voice to grab his attention. “Don't look away when you talk to me! The service here is awful! I wanted applejuice in the glass first, not rum! Don't you know how to make drinks in Zhyal?”

“My apologies, madam. I will get you a new one.”

As the servant walked away, Iliana and Elise grinned at each other. “Got it!” Iliana said, triumphantly taking it from her coat pocket.

“Woo!” Elise cheered. “What's it say?”

They started walking back to their quarters as Iliana unfolded the mysterious plans. “Hmm... Hard to make out the terrible, childish handwriting, but these are definitely plans for the future! Look at these dates... Here we have some kind of map, some kind of manoeuvres...”

“An invasion?” Elise asked.

“Maybe. Oh, look at this! Plans for a gathering of some kind, with a list of names. Antonin Karkhosov is involved too, in fact they circled his name. And a lot of these names sound Zhyalan.” Iliana grinned. “I think we got the evidence we need!”

As they neared their quarters, they ran into Michael. “Ah, girls! Igor just called for more negotiations.”

“What, now?” Iliana asked. “It's evening.”

“Plenty better things to do in the evening,” Elise said, giving Michael a wink.

The ginger boy blushed. “Er right, well, we should go.”

The three of them went to the throne room, where they ran into Krum and Conchita. Igor wasn't there yet. All the better.

“Your Grace,” Iliana said, “my friend and I have uncovered evidence that one of your servants has been plotting with Igor Karkhosov! In fact, I'm sure they planned this out from the start: the servant must have convinced you to protest Golgosk's tributes so his real master, Igor Karkhosov, could attack!”

“Miss Cavotta,” Krum growled.

The Duke frowned. “Is it common in Oturia to let a servant advice on the state's course of action?”

Iliana blushed. She hadn't meant to insult the Duke. “Er, my apologies, Your Grace, I meant no offence. We stole these plans from the servant who brought us drinks this afternoon after he drew them up with Igor Karkhosov!” she produced the plans with a flourish.

“Miss Cavotta...” Krum growled again.

“Vasily?” the Duke asked. “A traitor? How do you know? What are these plans?”

“I saw your servant Vasily in close conversation with Igor and Antonin Karkhosov at the fair in Arlesbury.” Elise briefly made a noise of agreement. “The evening before you announced your refusal to pay Golgosk's tributes. Igor Karkhosov arranged this whole situation to allow himself to pillage Zhyal.”

“Miss Cavotta,” Krum snapped, “I don't think we'll need your ludicrous contributions to these negotiations any more! You're excused. I'm so sorry for all this, your Grace.”

Iliana ignored him. “These plans prove it! They include details on a gathering where Antonin Karkhosov and many Zhyalans will be present, diagrams of manoeuvres, all dates about a month into the future!”

“That's because they're wedding plans,” a snide voice spoke from the door. Igor Karkhosov swaggered into the throne room, a vile smirk on his face. His full retinue followed him.

“What?” Iliana asked.

“Wedding plans?” the Duke said.

“Wedding plans,” Igor repeated. “Of course, miss Cavotta is so special she gets to spy on other people's private correspondence, so she found out before we were ready to announce.”

Iliana's mouth had gone dry, her heart sinking into her boots.

“Vasily's son is a dragonrider in Sheliak, and not just any: he caught the eye of my own son, the Dragonlord there. They are to be wed on the date you will find in those plans.”

Iliana could've sunk into the ground with every eye in the room on her.

“I do so apologise for this disgraceful behaviour, Your Grace,” Igor said, delighting in every moment. “As you can see, Iliana Cavotta believes herself to be above any rules, riding a leader, dressing like a man, butting into others' conversations, ignoring the diplomatic mission her own Dragonlord gave her to spew wild accusations. The silly girl even told the gathered dragonlords that the ancient traditions she happily broke were nothing but necrocracy.”

“That's not true!” Elise shouted. “Iliana is nothing like that! She made a mistake, that's all, and you-”

“Be quiet,” Igor said. “I must say, I had expected more of the escort Lord Remus promised me. Two stupid little girls, a boy whose dragon isn't even adult yet, a woman, and an old man.”

Iliana was sure she was going to die of shame any moment now. It would certainly be better that way. The furious looks of Krum and the Duke were even more painful than Igor's words. She'd deeply embarrassed Oturia. Then, it got worse:

“In light of this massive slight against both of us,” Igor said to the Duke, “I propose we each send a formal complaint to Oturia. Let the world know the incompetence of the Oturians.”

The Duke nodded. “I completely agree, Lord Igor. In all my years of diplomacy, I've never encountered such a disgraceful mess.”

“Your Grace,” Krum began.

“Too late,” Igor said, chuckling coldly, and Iliana knew things were even worse even before the sound of screams came from outside.

“What's that?” the Duke asked.

“Oh, that'll be the rest of my Order come to occupy Zhyal.”

The riders of Golgosk drew their swords as the Duke stood up in shock. “What?!”

Igor smirked. “I gave you a chance. You could've got off easily if you'd signed that agreement. I'll have to think of a new one now.”

“My guards-”

“Will find their gunpowder wet and their sentries eliminated,” Igor said. “We've been busy preparing. Now, your surrender, please.”

Conchita drew her sword, pointing it straight at Igor. “You'll have to get past us first, Golgosk scum! Oturia won't allow you to dictate your will here!”

Krum and Michael drew their swords as well just as Iliana realised she and Elise didn't even have swords yet, nor knew how to use them. At that moment, the world exploded into sound and a shower of glass as a dragon stuck its man-sized head, dark grey with bright, toxic green stripes, through one of the room's great windows. There were screams of fear and panic. The dragon looked straight at Conchita pointing a sword at its rider, its nostrils smoking dangerously.

“Lord Igor!” Krum bellowed as the riders from Golgosk advanced and encircled him. “Stop this madness!”

Conchita lifted her eyes nor her blade off Igor. “Your dragon shan't save you. If he breathes fire, he'll hit you too. Call off the attack.”

Igor smiled at her. “Skrain, dinner.”

The dragon moved almost too fast to see, certainly too fast for Conchita to react, as it opened its great jaws and thrust its head down to her, closing its maw around her with a loud snap. Her sword, still held in a hand severed by sharp teeth, hit the ground as the dragon cocked its head up again in a single, swallowing movement. A muffled scream was just audible as a still moving bulge travelled down its long, feathered throat. Iliana felt sick to the core as Elise screamed in fury and grief, charging at Igor. She managed to stop just before impaling herself on the blade Igor held out to her. “Let's not do anything rash, shall we?” he said calmly. “It would be a shame to weigh Skrain down too much to fly with a dessert as rich as yourself.”

The dragon growled dangerously, most of its neck still inside as it looked through the window it had smashed. Iliana looked about fervidly for anything she could do, but they were helpless and outnumbered, Michael and Krum already disarmed.

“Dragonriders of Oturia,” Igor said, almost purring with glee, “you may consider yourself captives of the Order of Golgosk.”

7: Golgosk

Castle Golgosk was large, cold, and stony, dominating a large chunk of land from its mountainside. Its dragons sat on its tall parapets and towers, showing the entire fort to be much larger than most castles. Iliana knew a lot of the history of the place, none of which was much help as a rough pair of hands shoved her and Elise into some servants' quarters on the castle's lower levels and locked the door behind them. “You can't keep us prisoner!” Iliana said yet again. “We're Oturian dragonriders!”

“Then it's a good thing you're not prisoners, but hostages. You'll ensure your Order's compliance,” the smarmy voice behind the door said as heavy footsteps left.

Iliana grinned briefly. At least that had advantages of its own... She straightened her clothes; her captors hadn't been very careful with them, and explored the quarters. They were small, a single table, an uncomfortable looking wooden chair, a lumpy couch, a bed, a small bookshelf, and a small bathroom all there was to them. All light came from a single, narrow window in the thick castle wall that looked out into the open courtyard. It was hard to see much of the outside, as the wall was almost a metre thick and the window very narrow. Iliana could just see Bheithir and Sredna in the courtyard, muzzled and tied up. Conchita's Aracaibo had been furious about her rider's demise, and attacked the Golgoskian dragons in a terrifying rampage that had only ended with her death. Iliana had never seen a dragon so desperate, enraged, and entirely lethal, and hoped never to see it again.

It was only then that Iliana realised Elise was uncharacteristically quiet, sitting still on the couch, her freckled face a stark white as she sobbed quietly. A flush came over Iliana as she realised she didn't have a clue what she was supposed to do. Obviously she'd like to make
Elise feel better, but how? She opted for sitting down next to her and trying to talk to her.

“Um, are you alright?”

“No, I'm not,” Elise said tremulously. “S-she's dead...”

“Oh, Conchita?” Iliana asked, a lurch in her stomach at the memory.

Elise nodded. “It-it was horrible! One moment she was there, talking and laughing and being nice, and then-” she broke off into a sob.

Iliana tried to find something to comfort her. “You know, she probably didn't suffer very long. The shock and blood loss from the arm would have-”

Elise wailed, interrupting her. “Don't say things like that, please... It's horrible enough without having to imagine details of what happened a-after she was-” the word 'eaten' turned into a sob.

Iliana tried to think of more to say, but she just ended up nodding. “Yes. It was horrible.” There was a long pause. “I can't believe someone would be stupid enough to have his dragon eat a human. It's so obviously playing with fire. And I for one won't miss Igor if his dragon decides to try how he tastes next.”

Elise didn't respond, so Iliana stiffly gave her a pat on the shoulder. After a while, she decided to start reading the books on the shelf, but didn't make much progress. She was too busy thinking to focus on the history of Golgosk. Thankfully, Elise eventually recovered and stopped crying. Iliana wished she could've done more for her, but she had no idea how to help her. Except maybe...

“It's not all bad, us being hostages, you know,” Iliana said. “If Igor tries to use us force Oturia to do anything, Remus will take his son Vladimir hostage.”

“He said he wouldn't,” Elise said.

Iliana grinned. “He said he wouldn't unless forced to. Five- I mean four of his riders being taken hostage probably counts. And we're not nearly as valuable to Oturia as Igor's son will be to him. I've noticed one of his biggest weaknesses is his love for his family.”

Elise glared at her for some reason and didn't say anything back, so Iliana decided to try reading one of the books on the shelf, a history of Golgosk Castle. It might give her some clue to an escape plan. After an hour or so, there was a knock on the door. “Stand back, please, I've got your dinner.”

Since neither Iliana nor Elise were near the door, they continued to sit on the couch. The door opened and a girl no more than fifteen years old entered with two plates of what looked like some kind stew with meat and mushrooms.

“Hi!” Elise said, “I'm Elise, and this is Iliana.”

The girl didn't meet their eyes, walking to the table in silence.

“Thanks for the food,” Elise said, “I was getting hungry.”

The girl smiled. “Er, sorry madam, I'm not supposed to talk to you... But hi. I'm Olga.”

“Are you a dragonrider, Olga?” Elise said with a smile as she took a bite from her plate. Iliana picked up her own plate and ate as she read.

Olga giggled. “Just a servant, madam... You're dragonriders though, aren't you?”

“Indeed!” Elise said. “I was just wondering, because this is really quite good, and I know my little Zapa would love it just as much as I do! When you make Contact, you'll find those cooking skills take you a long way into a dragon's heart.”

Olga blushed. “Didn't actually make it myself, madam.”

Elise smiled and shook the girl's hand. “Elise.”

“Elise. I don't work in the kitchens, I just clean and serve food and drinks.”

“Very important job,” Elise said, “especially when done with such a friendly face! You know, yours is the first smile I've seen in this entire castle.”

“You can't have looked much at the dragonriders, then,” Olga said, pursing her lips slightly in anger.

“Just between you and me,” Elise whispered, “I don't like the dragonriders you've got here much. They're not very nice.”

Olga giggled. “You won't get an argument from me, mada- Elise.”

Iliana tried to tune out of the conversation that ensued and focus on her book, but soon began to appreciate Elise's skill in wringing information out of the girl while ingratiating herself. It wasn't long before she only pretended to read, while filing away every useful little detail in her mind. The descending darkness meant reading was difficult anyway. What interested her most was the obvious dislike and fear the servant had for Igor and his dragonriders.

“I'm sorry, Elise,” Olga said after both of the prisoners were done eating, collecting their empty plates, “but I really have to go now.”

“Aww, can't you stay a little longer?”

“I'll probably get beaten if they think I'm slacking off... I really can't stay. I'll see you tomorrow with breakfast, though!”

Elise grinned. “I look forward to it. Er, could I ask for slightly bigger portions?”

Olga giggled. “I'll try my best. See you!”

As the door locked behind her, Iliana grinned at Elise. “Well done! That was very ingenious.”

Elise's eyebrows raised. “Er, it was?”

Iliana nodded. “I'm thinking we should wait before we escape, however. I think our position here among the servants in Golgosk Castle gives us a unique chance. If Olga is any indication, the dragonriders don't treat them well, and especially Igor seems very unpopular. Now, if we play our cards right, we might be able to get Olga organising an uprising against Igor, during which we could not only escape, but more importantly, take him down! Let's see if he's still so smug when the servants haul him off his high and mighty throne!” Iliana laughed.

“Just who do you think I am?!” Elise snapped, to Iliana surprise.

“Er?”

Elise scowled. “You expect me to get a fourteen-year old girl to start a rebellion?”

“...Yes?” Iliana asked, wondering if that wasn't clear.

“And what happens to her if she's discovered?” Elise said. “Didn't you hear her? The dragonriders here beat the servants for just being slow or bringing them the wrong drink. How do you think they'll respond to a rebellion?”

Iliana grinned. “That's precisely why she won't get found out. Her fellow servants have good cause to hate the dragonriders.”

Elise rolled her eyes. “Fine. What happens if she succeeds and the servants do rise up? This is a draconic order in case you hadn't noticed! The other side will have dragons.”

“Well,” Iliana explained, “Golgosk, as only the second Order to be established, didn't quite realise what a proper home for dragons should be like. The castle is big, but still rather cramped for dragons. They can walk, but can't fly comfortably. That gives a clear tactical advantage to ground troops-”

“Ground troops?!” Elise shouted. “Is that what you consider Olga? And how will that tactical advantage stand up to the other side having the tactical advantage of having, oh, I don't know, DRAGONS?!”

Iliana frowned. “Well, ideally, we'd get some of the dragonriders in on it as well. There have to be a lot of them who hate Igor and want to see him destroyed as much as we do.”

“As much as you do,” Elise snapped. “I'm not having any part of this plan!”

Iliana rolled her eyes in frustration. “Fine, then tell me your brilliant plan. What were you doing with Olga?”

“Making friends!” Elise shouted. “Friends who might help us escape! I'm not interested in your ridiculous revenge schemes!”

“It's not about revenge,” Iliana said coldly.

“Oh, yes, it is! You're always going on about what the Karkhosovs have done to you, always think up schemes for payback! Even when you get captured yourself, you're glad because Remus might take Vladimir hostage! You're cold and you're nasty.”

“Am I, now?”

“Yeah, but not cold enough to resist your lust for vengeance!”

“I don't have a lust for vengeance!”

“Iliana, that's a complete lie. I've never met someone so vindictive.”

Iliana had absolutely nothing to say to such ridiculous and insulting talk. She got up with silent scorn and made her way over to the bed. That was hers and far more comfortable than the couch anyway. Vindictive, how dare she? Iliana was the only one using her brain, not merely planning an escape, but a way to destroy vile Igor while she was at it, make him suffer for what he did – not just to Iliana, also to Conchita and the people of Zhyal, and that stupid bovine had the gall to call her vindictive and pretend it was all about revenge?

A grin came to Iliana's face in the gathering dark. If Elise didn't want to be part of her plans, then let her! Iliana could escape on her own and leave the stupid girl here in Golgosk. She could rot away in these crummy servants' quarters with her Olga for all eternity for all Iliana cared. That would be rather good. Elise slept long and deep, so that gave Iliana a good opportunity to escape alone at night. Wouldn't she be shocked and horrified to find herself all on her own when she woke up? That, and no less, would be proper payback for her insults.

Iliana turned to thinking up escape plans for herself, and herself alone, but her triumphant feeling slowly started to fade. In its place, guilt rose. It was silly, really, yet she trembled a little as she truly let her own thoughts and plans sink in. Didn't that sheer, blazing fury prove Elise at least partially right? For a moment, she was disgusted at the treason of her own thoughts – she was nowhere near the truth with those insults! Iliana was perfectly rational, certainly more so than she was.

She sighed at her own outrage and pride. She had told her parents that very afternoon that Elise was her friend. The first one she'd ever made. Did she really want to lost that friendship and prove Elise correct at once? She slowly got up and approached Elise, who was still sitting on the couch, arms folded.

“Um, Elise?” Iliana said cautiously. The other girl glared at her. “I'm sorry. Maybe you were right, maybe that plan was a bit rubbish.”

Elise nodded.

“And,” Iliana said, having to wrestle down her pride, “maybe you're right about me too. I guess I can be a bit vindictive. I shouldn't have been so angry at you for pointing it out.”

A smile came to Elise's lips. “Yeah, well, I probably shouldn't have shouted at you.”

“Oh no, it was quite alright,” Iliana said, sitting down next to her, relief flooding her heart like sunlight flooding a garden in spring. “I was being very inconsiderate.”

“I think my temper is just a bit frayed,” Elise said, turning a little pale again. “After what happened to Conchita, it's difficult to keep my emotions under control...”

Iliana nodded. “Same here... I know I'll never look on Syderet eating too fast and forgetting to chew quite the same way again...”

“...They'll be alright, won't they? Syderet and Zapa, I mean.”

Iliana nodded. “I expect so. They've got all Oturia to take care of them. And... if the worst should happen and we don't come back, they'll be bonded to new riders... Probably ones who lost their dragons. It would be harder to properly bond without Contact, but it can be done.”

Elise leaned into Iliana, holding her around the waist. Iliana had to take a quick breath to fight her instinctive reaction down, before finding it was actually quite nice and supportive to have Elise hold her like that. “I suppose they and their new riders would get to help one another with their losses...”

Iliana awkwardly draped a hand over Elise's back. “That's the idea, I believe. But I don't think it'll come to that. We'll find a way out.”

“I wonder if we could bash the door in?”

Iliana chuckled. “Maybe. But getting out of that door won't be much use if we can't get out of Golgosk next.”

They sat in silence, huddled together for a while, before Elise yawned. “You can have the bed, if you like,” Iliana offered. “I'll take the couch.”

Elise sat up. “Nah, you get the bed.”

“Are you sure? It's a pretty hard couch.”

Elise shrugged and grinned. “All the more reason for me to sleep here. You'd be lying right on your bones, I've got a little cushioning built in.”

–

Night was cold in Golgosk. The castle wasn't nearly as high in the mountains as Oturia, but lacked its steamworks. Between the frigid air and the nightmares about Conchita, Iliana didn't catch much sleep. Elise had been worse off on the uncomfortable couch: she didn't even have a blanket, only her riding jacket for warmth.

When Olga arrived with breakfast, Iliana made sure to behave better than last night. “Hi, I'm Iliana. We, er, didn't talk much last night. I didn't even thank you for the food.”

Olga shrugged. “That's alright. You're prisoners, after all, and I guess I'm one of the wardens. I can hardly expect gratitude.”

“Nonsense,” Elise said kindly, “from what you said yesterday, you're as much of a prisoner as we are.”

Olga blushed. “I'm a servant, Elise. It's not the most glamorous job in the world, but it's not that bad.”

“Well, I think you deserve better,” Elise said. “The way they treat you is disgraceful.”

“A fourteen year old should be in school, not slaving away,” Iliana said. “Anyway, I hate to add to your troubles, but can I ask you for a favour? We were captured with two men: an old bearded one with a complexion like mine and a tall, gangly redhead who's pale. Unless he's blushing.”

“He does that a lot,” Elise added.

Iliana nodded. “Can I ask you to take a message to them, if you find out where they are kept?”

Olga turned pale. “I can't take any messages; if one of the guards searches me...”

“Searches you? Is that likely?”

Olga cast down her eyes. “It happened yesterday...”

Iliana frowned in concern, but decided not to push her for more information. “That's alright. Can I just ask you to find out where they're kept, and, if possible, tell them Elise and I are alright?”

Olga nodded. “I can do that much.”

–

Olga returned at lunchtime with news that the men were being kept one floor down and two quarters to the right, but that they were being guarded too strictly for her to dare talk to them. She didn't get along with the servant who brought their food either, so they hadn't got the message. She also brought world news that Iliana had asked for. Apparently Zhyal was currently occupied by Golgosk. Igor was demanding far higher tributes than ever before from them, although he claimed it was only a temporary occupation. Oturia was demanding they be released, but hadn't actually done anything about it. Olga had no clue whether Vladimir had been taken hostage.

And so the second day of their captivity passed slowly. As much of a pity as it was to pass up the opportunity to dethrone Igor, Iliana focussed on thinking up escape plans. “What if one of us swapped clothes with Olga and then pretended to be her?” she asked at some point that day. “She could then help the rest of us escape from outside.”

Elise giggled. “I think the guards would notice if a white fourteen-year old suddenly either switched races or... er, developed,” she said with a significant gesture towards her bosom. “Neither of us could even remotely pass for her.”

Iliana nodded, wandering to the window and staring at poor Bheithir, still tied up in the courtyard. “Besides, it's not like she can go wherever she likes either... They keep the servants on a short leash here.”

Elise followed her gaze. “Maybe we could somehow free the dragons?”

“That's what I was thinking. I just don't know how much good it'd do us. Golgosk has rather a lot more dragons than us. Both of ours are fighters, so we couldn't outrun their speedsters either. If we make our escape on dragonback, we'd either have to do it very stealthily or...”

“Or?” Elise asked expectantly, seeing the gleam in her friend's eyes.

“Or we'd need to get a message out to Oturia so they could cover our escape! If we did it at night, there would only be a dozen or so dragons ready to follow us; the rest of Golgosk would have to wake up and prepare first. An Oturian force should be able to deal with the pursuit of the night guard.”

Elise grinned. “So how do we get a message to Oturia?”

They asked Olga the same question when she brought them dinner that evening. The little girl paled. “I-I'm sorry. I can't help you. If the Dragonlord found out...”

“What if we took you with us?” Iliana said. “Servants are treated much better in Oturia.” A frowning look from Elise made her amend that to: “Well, better anyway. They don't get beaten or otherwise hurt by the dragonriders. We could take you with us, keep you safe from reproach.”

Olga's eyes shone with hope, but then she shook her head sadly. “I still can't help you. I couldn't leave the castle, so how could I even get a message to Oturia?”

“You could give it to someone else.”

“Everyone I know who'd help out are servants too.”

They were silent for a little while before Iliana had an idea. “You are allowed to talk to the dragonriders, though, right?”

Olga shivered. “I am, but I usually make sure to stay out of their way.”

Iliana grinned slyly. “If I could get you the name of a sympathetic dragonrider, you could give them a message for Oturia...”

“Do-do you know such a dragonrider?”

“No. But I'm willing to bet Krum does. He used to be a Golgosk rider, you know. He's probably still got contacts here. Ones who could help and don't treat servants like rubbish.”

Olga frowned. “But I can't talk to him... He's too heavily guarded.”

And so they were stuck again. Olga left as the Sun set outside, promising she'd help if she could, provided they took her along when they escaped. Iliana ended up staring out of the window at the sunset, while Elise sung the prisoners' song from 'Escape from Obsidiani' to herself in the background. “...The window!”

“Every day the same,

every- What about the window?” Elise asked.

“We could talk to Krum if we climbed out the window!”

Elise's eyebrows rose. “The window.”

Iliana waved her arms excitedly. “Did you see the gaps between the stones? This is an old castle, it would probably not be that hard to climb along the walls! …Well, it'd be doable anyway. And with the gathering dusk, no-one would see us either.”

Elise laid a hand on Iliana's shoulder. “It'd be really dangerous. We're not in a Savorini play, Illy...”

“It's not that far a climb. One floor down, two windows to the side. We should be able to make it.”

“Illy, 'we' would have to get through that window first.”

Iliana shrugged. “So we smash the glass.”

“I hate to break it to you, but even if we do, there won't be a 'we'. Let's face it, I won't fit through.”

Iliana rolled her eyes. “Is this about that comment Igor made? You're not fat, you're barely even chubby.”

“I don't need to be: that's a very narrow window. There's no way my hips fit through that,” she pointedly placed her hands on them. “And frankly, I doubt yours do too.”

Iliana waved a hand. “Don't worry, we'll fit.” To prove her point, she measured the window with her hands and then did the same to herself and Elise. “...Okay, maybe you don't. I think I do, though.”

“Barely.”

“Barely will have to do,” Iliana said, but the thought of doing the dangerous parts of the plan all by herself made it feel like a bit less of a good idea. “If it's the only way we can contact Krum, I'll give it a try.”

Elise's face lit up. “We could tie the bedsheets together as a safety rope!”

“Bedsheet. Singular.”

“Oh,” another idea dawned on her face. “We could take off our clothes and tie them together as a rope.”

“No,” Iliana said flatly, “we will do no such thing.”

“But without a rope, you might fall...”

“I'll just have to be careful. Help me smash the glass.”

Breaking the glass turned out to be the easiest part of the plan. It was quite thin and easily broken. They carefully removed all remaining shards from the narrow opening, turning the window into a tunnel, almost a metre long, to the outside of the thick wall. Iliana heaved herself up into it, figuring she'd have a good look at the outside of the wall before trying the climbing. It really was very narrow, the stone touching her on all sides, but she could crawl through. Cold evening winds buffeted her face as she stuck it outside. It was at least a fifteen metre drop down to the courtyard, but Krum's window was far closer than that. She could see a climbable path using the wide cracks between the castle's large stones. It'd be terrifying, but she could probably make it. Maybe. It was a long way to fall...

“You know,” Elise's voice came from behind, “your bottom looks very good from this angle. Pity you've always got knee-length coattails covering it.”

Iliana burst out in a fit of giggles as she pulled herself back inside. “Hey! Eyes front, soldier!”

Elise was smiling innocently when Iliana managed to get back. “My eyes were front. It just so happened your pretty buns were too.”

Iliana tried to give her a stern look as she tugged her coattails back into place, but then both of them burst out into giggles together, thankful to let some of the tension out of the air. “Hum hum,” Iliana managed to recover with a theatrical clearing of her throat, “well, I think I can make it. Not much point to waiting...”

Elise's giggles stopped immediately. “Are you sure? We could always try to find another way...”

“I'm sure,” Iliana lied, putting on her gloves, “I'll be alright.”

“Okay...” Elise said, eyes large with fear. “But if you change your mind, please come back immediately... Better safe than sore.”

Iliana nodded before turning to the problem of how best to leave, as her feet had to go out first this time. “I think I'll need your help.”

Elise helped lift Iliana's legs into the window, then lifted the rest of her body and started pushing her outside. It went fine at first, but was harder to fit her torso through this way. “Maybe you should take off your frock coat?” Elise proposed.

“No,” Iliana said, making progress centimetre by centimetre.

Elise rolled her eyes. “Is this because of what I said about your bum?”

“No, it's not! I like my coat, thank you very much! If I'm about to fall to my death, I'd prefer to leave a well-dressed corpse.”

Tears shot into Elise's eyes and she gently stroked Iliana's hair. “Don't say things like that.”

“Sorry,” Iliana said.

“Promise me you'll come back,” Elise said in a squeaky voice. “I-I don't want you to die...”

Overcome by a wave of affection for the other girl, Iliana gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I promise.”

Elise blushed a bright scarlet as her hand briefly shot to her cheek, softly touching it.

Iliana giggled to see her friend so affected as she squeezed her shoulders together to get out entirely. “Don't worry about me. I've already found a solid foot rest, you know. The entire front half of my feet fits in. I'll be fine.”

Elise just nodded, clearly trying to hide her fear. As Iliana grabbed the stones of the outside wall with her hands and entirely left the window, nothing between her and the ground far below than her own flimsy grip, she almost froze with terror. This was a really bad idea...

“Y-you could come back inside...” Elise whispered. “It's not worth your life...”

Iliana just shook her head and very slowly, very gently lowered herself, her foot searching for a good place to stand below the stone she was currently on. Having found one, she tried putting some weight on it as a test, and then finally made the step down. Elise drew a sharp breath inside.

“I'm alright,” Iliana said. “See you in a while.”

As she made the second step down, Iliana could hear the sounds of Elise trying to climb into the window to look at her progress. It sounded like her hips were indeed foiling that plan, as her head never quite managed to get outside. Probably a good thing; this was hard enough without having to keep the terror and and strain off her face to soothe Elise. Stone by stone, Iliana climbed down, her fingers and calves soon burning with pain and exhaustion. After an eternity, she reached the next floor down and started moving sideways. This was easier, as she could often just move her feet on the same stone, but she still had to be careful. She passed one window...

Her foot slipped off the edge she'd planted it on in mid-step, suddenly dragging her into the abyss. A severe jolt of pain went through her fingers as they carried her entire weight while she scrambled panicky with her feet for somewhere to stand. She almost screamed for help, but just in time found a foothold, taking the weight off her fingers. Her heart pounded painfully hard and her arms weren't sure if they were in agony or numb and bloodless. She rested for a moment, breathing heavily, and then continued moving, half-expecting to fall with every motion. She startled when she reached the second window earlier than expected.

She immediately stuck her head and shoulders inside, eager for a proper rest and barely even noticing that the glass was already gone for some reason. Michael and Krum were busily discussing something. “Hi!” she said, her voice a hoarse, exhausted whisper on a ragged breath.

Michael just about jumped through the roof. “Iliana?!”

“Miss Cavotta?”

Two strong pairs of arms grabbed her and began to pull her in, babbling as relief and excitement flooded Iliana. She yelped in pain as she reached the smallest section of the window and got stuck.

“Er, I don't think you fit,” Michael said.

Iliana skewered him with a glower that made him grow pale. “Yes, I do, Michael O'Connor! I'm not staying out here! Now pull properly!”

After a few more great pulls, Iliana suddenly found herself flying into the room, landing on the ground in an undignified position, but alive. “What were you thinking, lass?” Krum asked. “You could've fallen to your death.”

“I'm acutely aware of that, thank you,” Iliana panted, plunging down on their couch and letting her sore limbs rest. “I had to talk to you.”

Michael chuckled. “Surely, you could've found a way that didn't...” he trailed off as Iliana repeated the glower. “Er, I guess not.”

“Well,” Krum said with a humorous smile, “here you are. Ask away, lass.”

“We need to get a message to Oturia,” she said. “We need them to cover our escape.”

Krum's grey eyebrows rose. “Yes, that was my thinking too. We've tried breaking the window and shouting, but can't draw the attention of anyone sympathetic.”

“We can,” Iliana said. “The girl bringing our food, Olga, she's willing to carry a message to a dragonrider.”

“Ah!” Krum exclaimed happily. “That's just what we need! Tell her to talk to Petya Polyakov. We go way back, and she's got no love for Igor. Her dragon's a speedster, so she'd reach Oturia quickly too.”

Iliana grinned. “Just what I was hoping for.”

Krum raised an eyebrow. “You risked your life to ask that?”

“Yes,” Iliana said defensively.

Krum smiled. “Good job on coming up with something. You really are a lot like my granddaughter, lass.”

“Didn't know you had grandchildren,” Michael said. Iliana cringed, prepared for things to turn awkward again.

“Just the one,” Krum said with a sigh. “Same age as Iliana here. No dragon, though...”

“Er,” Iliana said, realising she was heading into dangerous territory, “did no dragon want to make Contact?”

Krum frowned. “She never even tried. I bet she'd make Contact on the first attempt, she's always been very good with my Sredna.” Krum's eyes briefly flitted to the window. “And I told her as much, but she thinks she belongs in the military.”

“Well,” Iliana said cautiously, “everyone has their own calling. Riding dragons isn't for everyone.”

“You think I don't know that, lass?!” Krum snapped. “Believe me, when my son realised he didn't want a dragon and left, I was as happy as I could be. He had always been too straight-lined, too down-to-earth for a dragonrider. I supported him every day since he joined the Ithralian army and was delighted to see him rise up through the ranks all the way to general. I know my family has to find their own life, not copy mine.”

Iliana cast her eyes down. “I'm sorry.”

“His daughter isn't like him, though. Radka is creative, and sensitive, and has a way with animals, especially dragons. She's always been a clever little maverick, she's wasted on the military! That is why I want her to be a dragonrider, lass, not because I'm trying to force my own life down her throat.”

“I didn't know...” Iliana said.

Krum smiled. “I know you didn't, lass. No harm done. But while we're on the subject of mavericks and harm being done...”

As Krum's face grew stern, Iliana realised he was thinking of her mistake in the Duke's court. She'd been so startled by Conchita's death and busy thinking of escape plans she had almost forgotten it herself. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have accused Igor like that.”

Krum raised an eyebrow. “No, lass, you really shouldn't have. You seemed more sensible than that. Why didn't you just take the 'evidence' to me first?”

Iliana cringed. Because she'd wanted to expose Igor, of course. She'd been so sure it'd go well, already seen herself sharing the evidence of his malevolent plotting with the world. She'd imagined his glare at her as he had no choice but to return to Golgosk in peace in the hopes he might salvage a little bit of his reputation. She'd imagined everyone praising her brilliance for exposing Igor. “I should have. But the moment just seemed right... Negotiations resuming right as I got the evidence. I would've told you if I'd had more time.”

“Would you have, lass?” Krum said in a low growl.

“Of-of course.”

“You never mentioned seeing that man talking to the Karkhosovs the day before the crisis either. Even though you suspected it was very relevant.”

Iliana's face was red as a beet with shame, her scalp tingling.

“Remus agreed to let you come as my apprentice, but that wasn't good enough for you, was it?” Krum snapped. “Oturia's intervention was your idea, so they were your negotiations. Never mind your complete lack of experience, you were the maverick hero who'd show everyone just how clever she was; the old fart was just along for the ride!”

Iliana could feel the tears burning behind her eyes at Krum's scathing words. She couldn't be angry at him; he was right, and that made it all the more painful. “I-I'm so sorry... I thought I could expose Igor's plotting... I just ended up embarrassing Oturia.”

Krum sighed, looking ahead now. “Yes, I'm afraid you did, lass.”

“Er, well,” Michael said in a small voice, “at least Golgosk's attack during the negotiations mean their complaints will sound fake.”

Krum's eyes sparkled. “Yes, I suppose you're right. Golgosk and Zhyal complaining about the Oturian delegation might just come off as Igor trying to distract attention from his coup.”

Iliana continued to stare at the ground. It didn't make her feel any better.

Krum gave her a pat on the shoulder that she shifted away from. “Chin up, lass, we all make mistakes. You made a big one, but I'm done shouting at you now. Let's focus on escaping, alright?”

Iliana sighed. “I'm sorry, Krum. I would've made a complete mess of the negotiations even if Igor hadn't cut them short. I... just hope we can do something for Zhyal...”

Krum gave her an encouraging smile. “It'll be alright, lass. Now, come on with your escape plan.”

“...Speaking of plans, are we sure the ones Iliana stole were for a wedding?” Michael asked.

Krum grunted. “We've moved on, lad.”

“It just seems odd, Iliana spotting the Karkhosovs talking to that guy Vasily right the day before trouble starts in Zhyal.”

“In hindsight, it's really obvious,” Iliana muttered. “Of course they were wedding plans, I would've seen it if I'd just looked a bit better. What I thought were manoeuvres were table placements. Antonin is one of the grooms, so of course his name would be prominent on the guest list.”

“But isn't their timing weird?” Michael asked. “Maybe the Karkhosovs used the opportunity of Antonin's upcoming wedding to get their new in-law to cause trouble?”

Iliana sighed. “He's just a servant, Michael. I was being very stupid. Drop it.”

“You, um, still haven't actually told us your escape plan,” Michael said after a while. “I'm sure it's a very smart one.”

That managed to give both Iliana and Krum a chuckle. She told them her plan, making adjustments to it at their suggestions. After that, it was time for Iliana to return to her own cell. She was properly rested, and climbing back wouldn't get any easier when the cold of night descended. She lay down on the ground again, letting Krum help her back out of the window the same way Elise had. Michael fretted about nervously. “Will you stop wandering about, lad?” Krum grumbled.

“I'm sorry,” Michael said.

“Well, help me out with her!” he snapped. With a wink to Iliana he added: “I'm not as young as I look, you know.”

“I'm sorry!” Michael fretted about further, apparently wanting to help by lifting Iliana's middle but unsure where to place his hands.

“Oh, in the name of the first dragon egg,” Krum snapped, “she won't bite: she's a girl, not a frumious bandersnatch! Get over it already and help me out!”

“I'm sor-”

“And stop that incessant apologising!”

Iliana barely noticed her trip out the window, too busy laughing about Grumble and Bumble. It went a little smoother this time, even the narrow spot, and her feet found her previous foothold under the window. Krum wished her luck as she found herself outside once more.

“Thanks. Be nice to Michael, won't you?”

Krum suppressed a smile. “I might give it a try.”

“Good luck, Iliana!” Michael said. “Er, say hi to Elise for me.”

“Will do,” Iliana said. This time, the fear took much longer to set in, the antics of the men having been a nice distraction. Still, she was gritting her teeth in both terror and pain by the time she'd moved two windows sideways, and still had the climb ahead. The wind had picked up, and Iliana almost wished she had taken Elise's advice and left her coat behind, as it was flapping about like a flag. On the other hand, it would be even colder without it.

Climbing up was even heavier than climbing down. Her legs were of little use this time, almost all the strength having to come from her arms. Her fingers felt like bits of frozen stone that could break off any second. With her last bit of strength, Iliana laid a hand on the window's opening. She was greeted by a happy shriek. “Illy! You're alive! Oh, I was so worried!”

“You were worried?” Iliana asked with a nervous grin, still acutely aware of the abyss below her feet. “Michael says hi, by the way.”

Elise grabbed Iliana's hands and soon managed to pull her inside, giving her a big, tight hug. “That was really scary.”

Iliana nodded. “No kidding. That was the stupidest idea I've ever had. But it worked.”

Elise beamed happily as she sat Iliana down on the bed. “So, we're having Olga send the message tomorrow?”

“Yup. Petya Polyakov. Old friend of Krum's.”

Elise chuckled. “Old friend... or old 'friend'?”

“I didn't ask.”

“Either way, must be quite the woman if she likes Krum.”

Iliana shrugged. “He can be quite nice when he feels like it. He's got some humour too.”

Elise smirked. “Well, that is coming from the girl who gets along with a teacher.”

They sat together in silence for a while, both relieved at Iliana's survival as she regained her breath. After a while, Elise rested her head on Iliana's shoulder. Iliana actually found once again she was fine with it. Somehow, when Elise touched her, it wasn't annoying like it used to be, but made her feel warm and safe inside. She fondly dragged her hand through her friend's hair and gave it a quick ruffle. Elise mumbled something contentedly and lay down a little further against her.

Iliana smiled as she continued, gently undoing a couple of knots and slightly massaging Elise's scalp. It was just like caring for Syderet's new feathers, really, and felt just as peaceful and pleasant to her. She wondered how he had taken to spending a whole day without her, suddenly missing the little goofball terribly. She'd do anything to be able to just see him bounce around with excitement for food or a game, even to feel him project his impatience or hunger onto her, shake himself out after a bath, or wake her in the middle of the night because he was bored.

Elise slumped against her side, and Iliana realised with a blush that she'd fallen asleep. She very gently lowered her onto the pillow, pulling the blanket over her. It was her turn for the bed anyway. Iliana lay down on the couch herself, and very soon realised how stoic Elise had been never to complain of it. While decent to sit on, it made for an awful bed. Now with the glass in the window gone, frigid air entered the room at its leisure, making it even colder than last night. Her frock coat wasn't proving to be much of a blanket. Soon, Iliana's back hurt, her teeth chattered, and she was starting to wish she had the bed tonight...

But maybe she could. It was a fairly wide bed, and it'd be nice and warm in there with Elise... A deep blush came to Iliana at the mere thought. And yet, there was no way she was falling asleep on the couch. It was simply impossible, yet she'd need to be well-rested the next couple of days if they were to escape. Well, if Elise complained in the morning, she could always claim they'd both fallen asleep while she was getting her hair ruffled. Her heart pounding in her chest, Iliana quietly got up again and crawled into the bed, trying not to touch Elise or wake her. She was unsuccessful: the other girl opened half an eye. “Hmmm, good idea...” she mumbled sleepily, putting an arm around Iliana and pulling her closer to her warm body.

Iliana blushed deeply, but it was very warm and cozy; far better than the couch. “Y-you don't mind?”

A smile came to Elise's closed-eye face. “Wanted to join you myself last night... Just didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable...”

“That's very sweet of you,” Iliana whispered. Elise didn't reply: she was asleep already.

8: Escape

Chapter Eight: Escape

“Good morning, Olga,” Iliana said cheerfully, feeling well-rested and optimistic after a good night's sleep.

“Good morning,” Olga said, carrying in their breakfast.

“Smells delicious!” Elise said with a grin.

Olga shivered as she put the plates down. “How'd it get so breezy in here? Oh, the window!”

“Er, don't worry about it,” Iliana said. “And don't report it either, please.”

“...Okay, I won't.”

“On an entirely unrelated note, could you take a message to Petya Polyakov?”

Olga frowned. “Tall woman, curly grey hair, champion of the order's boxing league? I-I suppose so, as long as it's a spoken message... And you're sure she's on our side...”

Iliana nodded. “I'm sure she is. Please tell her Krum Belov is imprisoned and needs her help. He asks her to fly to Oturia and tell Lord Remus we're escaping three hours past midnight on the night of the twenty-sixth to the twenty-seventh. We'll need three platoons of dragons to be ready just east of Golgosk Castle at that moment to cover our escape.”

“Alright, I can remember that.”

“Are you sure?”

Olga repeated the message.

“Good girl!” Iliana said. “Now, don't tell anyone else, hmm? We'll make sure to take you along when the day comes.”

–

As they waited for most of the day, Iliana quickly learnt Elise could get quite annoying when bored. Her singing was quite nice, but after a while she got bored of it and just ended up changing seats a lot and sighing with frustration, distracting Iliana from her reading. It would be a hard three days at this rate.

Their wait was interrupted when the door was opened, but instead of Olga, two large men entered. Iliana jumped up in shock: what if they felt the breeze too and realised the glass was no longer in the window? Her worries were abated, but only for a moment as the bigger of the two stepped straight toward her and grabbed her upper arm hard. “Come with us.”

Iliana was too flabbergasted to struggle until they were already out the door, which they threw into Elise's face. “Wh-where are you taking me? Let me go, right now, I can walk for myself!”

As she struggled, trying to pull herself free and kick the guard where it hurt, the second gorilla simply grabbed her other arm and they lifted her up together, making it impossible to touch the ground. “Stop it, you hideous hirsute hominids! Set me down! Now! ...At least you have to recognise carrying me like this is comfortable for none of us.”

They didn't even respond to her, carrying her by an arm each through the castle. Iliana tried to stifle her annoyance and fear and use the opportunity to observe her surroundings instead. They took her out of the building her cell was in, across the courtyard, and into the main keep of the castle. The ground floor was largely made up of the main hall, huge, yet somewhat cramped considering everything going on. Most of the dragons were outside, the few inside obviously cramped and unable to fly properly. Other than the size and lack of steamworks, the main hall was somewhat reminiscent of Oturia's. There were market stalls and other shops here, but the merchants and servants running these treated the dragonriders with great caution and deference. The brutes took Iliana to spiral stairs at the back of the hall, upstairs, through corridors that held the quarters of the dragonriders, all the way to the top of the tower. Finally they shoved her into a large office, putting her down at last.

Igor Karkhosov sat behind a high desk in a chair designed to let him loom over everyone in his office, which had a single large window that looked out over the courtyard and across the castle's walls into the valleys of Zhyal. Behind him stood large bookcases and a door into what looked like living quarters. Far more interesting than any of that, however, was the old man sitting in the second chair in the office. The intense, dark eyes of Dragonlord Carandini of Obsidiani carefully appraised Iliana.

“Lord Carandini,” she said, deliberately ignoring Igor, “I'm honoured to meet you again.”

“Miss Cavotta,” the old man said, “I'm here to investigate Golgosk's recent actions on behalf of the other orders.”

Iliana smiled. “Excellent! You'll find plenty to investigate here...” Reluctantly, Iliana swallowed her pride. “...But you should be talking to Krum Belov, not me.”

“I've already spoken to him and mister O'Connor,” Carandini said. “I want to ask you if you've been treated well in your captivity.”

“It could've been worse. You really shouldn't be asking after me, but after Conchita Martinez,” Iliana said, with a challenging grin at Igor. “Why don't you tell Lord Carandini what you did to her, Lord Igor?”

A brief flash of anger in Carandini's eyes told Iliana all she needed to know: the Dragonlord was clearly on her side, even if the words he spoke were a bit more placating and neutral. “Yes, I've been told of that incident. Lord Igor should have sought a different solution.”

Igor frowned and spoke for the first time. “I told you, Carandini, I had no choice. She had a sword at my throat. My dragon just did what any dragon would do to protect its rider.”

“Funny,” Iliana said, “your son threatened me, but my Syderet didn't eat him. Come to think of it, I don't know any other dragons that would do that. Of course, you did tell it Conchita was dinner, so that might be why.”

Igor wasn't shaken by her words, he simply rolled off an obviously rehearsed story. “We had only a moment to deal with her threats. Hesitation would've cost me my life. I ordered Skrain to use his jaws in as few words as possible because there was no time for subtlety. It's a shame she died, but it's better the world loses an ordinary rider than a dragonlord. She forfeited her life the moment she raised arms against her betters.”

Iliana bit back a furious response, taking a deep breath before continuing. “She drew her sword, my lord, to protect Zhyal from Golgosk's unprovoked attack.”

Igor smiled vilely. “Unprovoked, was it? Lord Carandini, I think you'll agree I was entirely within my rights to restore order to subjects that refused to pay their rightful tributes. If anything, Oturia had no right to interfere.”

“Oturia-” Iliana began.

“Unless, of course,” Igor said nastily, “you're talking about how I started the Duke's rebellion in the first place through my dastardly conspiracy only you can see evidence of.”

A deep flush came to Iliana.

Carandini gave her a brief look of reassurance, and when he spoke she knew he was just placating Igor. “Lord Igor, did well in restoring order,” he said to her. “We can't afford to let our subjects think they can force the hand of dragonriders. However, I can't condone an ongoing occupation of their lands or extortion. Once the matter is settled and the tribute paid, Golgosk will withdraw and let your homeland continue under its own leadership.”

“And what about Conchita?” Iliana asked.

“Don't interrupt Lord Carandini,” Igor snapped. “The woman's death was just a minor, regrettable incident.”

Iliana was too infuriated by the lizard's casual dismissal of his crime to think her response through. “Her death, you say? Tell us about that, Lord Igor, because she obviously didn't die immediately when your dragon devoured her! How long did it take her to die in its gut? Did your dragon like his meal? Will you be feeding him some of your servants – or should I say slaves?”

Igor gave a cold smile. “I don't know why you supported this silly girl riding a leader, Carandini. Listen to her ridiculous, emotional babble.”

“Emotional?!” Iliana snapped, barely able to resist jumping across the table. “I'm perfectly rational, thank you very much!”

“I should have you perform as my personal jester while you're here anyway.”

“The deaths of Conchita Martinez and her dragon,” Carandini said calmly, ignoring the altercation, “concern me greatly. Dragonriders should stand together in unity against all threats; killing one another is a fantastic way to destroy all we've worked for. Conchita Martinez was in Zhyal as an impartial observer and shouldn't have intervened in Golgosk's solution to the problem.” Iliana began to protest. “However, having a dragon kill and eat her was completely uncalled for, and could seriously threaten the stability of the relationship between the draconic orders.”

“Oturia has no business interfering in Golgosk lands,” Igor said.

“It does if Golgosk's Dragonlord is a cruel maniac!” Iliana shouted, instantly regretting it.

“Lord Carandini,” Igor said, “let's continue this discussion in private. This girl is, as usual, mingling herself in things that don't concern her. Guards!”

As the guards re-entered and grabbed Iliana by the arms, she shouted: “What about us, Igor?! How long are you planning to keep us locked up?”

“Imprisoning other dragonriders is equally harmful to our unity,” Carandini said. “You will be released soon.”

“They will be released when I say so,” Igor snapped. “In case you've forgotten, this isn't Obsidiani and you're here at my discretion. Guards, take her back and bring her cellmate.”

As the muscular malfeasants carried Iliana back, she actually smiled. Carandini was on her side, even if he'd had to choose his words carefully to make Igor think he was on his, she just knew it. That wouldn't help much with escaping, of course, but it was probably good news in the long run, for both Zhyal and herself.

–

There was something deeply confusing about waking up in twilight, but having the world get darker rather than lighter. The knowledge that she'd gone to bed in the afternoon to prepare for a nightly escape didn't make it any easier on her body, which had no idea whether to feel completely awake or drowsy enough to fall asleep standing, and so just kept switching between the two. As she lay there, she dozed off a few more times, until she finally got up, having a wash and some dinner, which Olga had left quietly on the table while they slept.

“Smells good...” Elise mumbled from the bed.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Iliana asked.

Elise shrugged and propped herself up against the pillow. “The emptiness of the bed woke me. It's a bit big for one person...”

Iliana rolled her eyes. “Well, I'm not getting back in bed to be your teddy bear.”

Elise made a sad noise. “But it's cold...”

Iliana chuckled and handed Elise her plate and cutlery. “Warm yourself up with this... Well, it's gone cold, but it's some kind of quiche, so it's still good.”

Elise raised an eyebrow. “What happened to no crumbs in the bed?”

Iliana shrugged. “I'm not sleeping in this bed again, whether the escape succeeds or... er, fails. You can do what you like.”

As Elise began to eat, Iliana sat down next to her, the bed still the most comfortable seat in the room. What a relief it would be to have soft chairs again. “I can't wait to get out of here,” she said, leaning on her arms.

“Me too,” Elise said between bites, “I'll love just getting to stretch my legs regularly again...”

“I miss having a proper library instead of a single shelf...”

“All the nice little shops in the main hall.”

“Syderet and Zapa,” Iliana said.

Elise made a happy sound of agreement. “Y'know, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I miss Oturia. The cold isn't so bad when you can take a warm bath whenever you feel like it.”

“Mmm!” Iliana said in full agreement.

“As much space as we like in our own quarters,” Elise said.

“So much space.”

Elise smiled a bit oddly as she put her plate away. “Mind you,” she said, edging closer to Iliana, “as little space as we had, it was pretty fun to share it with you.”

Iliana shrugged. “Could've been much worse.”

“Yeah,” Elise said with a smile, “I guess it could.” She snuggled up to Iliana's side a bit. Iliana placed an arm around her shoulders. It could actually be quite nice, when Elise wasn't overdoing it: it made her feel quite warm and comfy inside.

“Illy?”

“Yes?”

Elise grabbed her lapels and pulled her closer. “Thanks for being such a great cellmate.”

“Er, well-”

Then Elise did something Iliana hadn't expected at all: she suddenly closed the distance between their faces, planting her lips on Iliana's and giving her a slow, sensual kiss. She was too startled and confused to protest or pull away as a thousand unfamiliar and conflicting sensations burnt through her. She ended up going along with it on pure instinct until Elise finally broke off the kiss. She smiled lovingly at Iliana, stroking her cheek softly.

Iliana didn't know what to do or think. Was she supposed to kiss Elise back now? But she didn't want to... probably? Would Elise be insulted if she said so? Should she have broken off the kiss immediately if she didn't want to? Was Elise with her so often because she was in love? And if Iliana rejected her, would she stop being her friend? Then wouldn't it be better to pretend to be in love too so she would stay?

“That was your first kiss, wasn't it?” Elise asked sweetly.

“Yes,” Iliana admitted.

“Did... did you like it?” Elise asked.

Iliana blushed as she tried to think of a good answer. “Um...”

Elise's smile faded. “You didn't, did you?”

“W-well, I wouldn't say that. I mean, it felt sort of, er, good.”

Elise frowned. “Illy, it's alright, you don't have to lie.”

“It felt good! I just... I don't think I... necessarily want to do it again.”

“Oh,” Elise said. “Well, that's alright. I just wanted to try what if felt like... kissing you. Fortune favours those whose actions speak louder than words.”

Something in Elise's eyes scared Iliana, maybe disappointment or sadness? “It-it was a good kiss!” she reassured Elise. “Er, I think. But the problem is: I don't like you – No, of course I like you: I like you immensely, but I don't like you.”

Elise giggled. “Illy, calm down, I understand what you mean.”

“It's nothing personal!” Iliana rambled. “Er, if I were to like someone, it would probably be you, but, well, let me explain like this: you, er, flirt with a lot of people.”

Elise blushed a little. “Just people I fancy.”

“And, er, you flirt with both men and women.”

Elise shrugged with a smirk. “Like I said: people I fancy.”

“Well, my point is: I'm not like that. I don't really want to kiss you again, because I don't flirt with, well...”

“Girls?” Elise asked.

Iliana blushed, worried she was about to say something very stupid. “People. I don't, er, flirt with either men or women because I don't flirt at all.”

“Ohh,” Elise said with a giggle, “you're asexual. I didn't realise. Why didn't you just say so instead of stammering about like that?”

“Is- is that alright, then?”

“Of course it is!”

“You don't think it's... well, boring?” Iliana asked, relief flooding her heart.

Elise held Iliana's hands tightly. “Illy, how can it be boring if it's just what you are? You're wonderful no matter who you flirt with. Or don't.”

“Really? You don't mind, then?” Iliana asked with joy.

“Of course I don't,” Elise said. “Plenty of fish in the soup. If you didn't like it, I won't kiss you again.”

Iliana sighed with relief. “I would appreciate that. It was a little sudden and a little much.”

They sat together for a while. Iliana's lips were still tingling and her head spinning. She'd barely had time to think, too busy trying to explain herself. She felt weird. She cautiously glanced over to Elise to see if she also felt odd to be sitting so close to each other just after kissing her, especially considering Iliana had rejected her. She didn't look like she minded; she made eye contact without hesitation and gave Iliana a genuinely warm smile. Iliana decided that if Elise wasn't going to make much of the incident, she would try to do the same thing.

“Illy, don't let anyone tell you you're boring, alright?” Elise said quietly.

Iliana gave her a tight hug. “Thank you...”

Elise grinned. “If anything, I think it's quite interesting. How'd you even find out you're ace? I had it easy: meet a cute guy, kiss him, meet a cute girl, kiss her, like it both times, conclusion's pretty obvious.”

Iliana chuckled. “Well, the opposite, I suppose. When you reach a certain age, everyone around you starts to look for, er, cute guys and girls to kiss. And, well, I didn't. Not that I couldn't see someone was – well, cute – or, um, feel it,” she blushed at her own words, but Elise just grinned. “But that didn't mean I was especially interested in, er, kissing them. After a few years of that, I figured I wasn't being shy or slow, I simply didn't feel the need, and I was fine with that. It's an awful lot of time, effort, and emotions to waste, you know.”

“Oh, it is,” Elise said, “but if you enjoy it, it's definitely worth it!”

Iliana blushed. “Er, I'm sure of it.”

They sat together for a while longer, until Iliana eventually got up. “Well,” she said, “I think it's about time I got to work.”

Elise stiffened. “A-already? Oturia won't arrive until three hours after midnight... You've got over two hours left until then.”

Iliana nodded. “I want to go now. It'll get too cold to climb later. I can just lie low for a while once I get down.” She jumped up; she didn't want this to take long. Despite her words, she had plenty to do tonight.

Elise fidgeted nervously as Iliana got ready for the climb, pretending not to worry, that she was sure it'd all be fine, when of course she knew there were a thousand things that could go horribly wrong.

“Are you sure you won't leave your coat?” Elise asked.

“Sure,” Iliana said, “it's cold out there. I'll need its warmth.”

“Maybe one of the others could climb after all?” Elise mumbled.

Iliana did her best to give an encouraging smile. “Michael is too big for the window and Krum too old for the climb.”

“Right...”

“It'll be alright, it's not that far to climb.” But it is rather far to fall...

“If anything goes wrong,” Elise said, her hands fluttering about, “promise me you'll come back immediately. Nothing ventured, no eggs broken...”

“Of course,” Iliana said, not even rolling her eyes at the umpteenth mangled proverb any more.

They had practised climbing out the window, so it didn't take long. Iliana's feet were soon in the familiar niche below the window, the deep black abyss gaping below her. “Well,” she said, forcing a smile to her face, “I'll see you in two hours.”

“Good luck,” Elise whispered hoarsely.

As soon as she was out of Elise's sight, Iliana allowed herself to shudder. The wind howled powerfully, chilling Iliana to the bone with a force nothing could fight, tugging powerfully on her coat especially. In the total darkness of night, it seemed like an even deeper fall down. Iliana clutched the stones tightly until the wind calmed down a little, her fingers cramping already. Step by step, she lowered herself towards the barely illuminated, mostly empty courtyard. She knew the stones in the first part of the journey, she told herself. Nothing could happen. This was not insanely dangerous at all. Nonetheless, she had to focus. Her mind threatened to wander off at any moment, trying to go over the conversation they'd had, or to the event beforehand.

Soon enough, she'd descended one floor. Her fingers already felt like brittle pieces of cold stone themselves, even in her gloves, and she had never climbed this part of the wall before. She kept lowering herself with one foot first, feeling for a ridge she could stand on, then lowered the rest of her body. Until she couldn't feel a foothold below her any more. She didn't dare look, certain the black abyss would send her panicking. Her arms and legs ached terribly and her breathing was ragged as she tried shuffling sideways in the hopes it might be easier to find the next step somewhere else.

Maybe it was impossible? Maybe she should climb back up into safety. Elise would understand, probably give her a big relieved hug and tell her she'd done her best. But that really wouldn't be any good if they were both still hostages of Golgosk. Iliana lowered herself very far, groaning at the ache in her shoulder, until her foot finally found a niche below the large stone. Planting her foot firmly into the crack, she tried to make the step with her other foot as well. The ledge broke under her weight, her foot slipping off the remains. For one moment, her hands held her entire weight, then nothing did. Stone hit her knee with agonising force. The wall sped by in an instant, far too fast to-

A horrible yank on her upper body forced the air out of her and dug the seams of her coat agonisingly into her armpits. Her knee smashed into the wall again as she stopped falling for a single moment. Iliana managed to grab hold of the wall right as her coat tore with a loud noise, the force on her shoulders suddenly gone. She clung tightly to the wall, staying in place for a while, her head spinning and her stomach turning with pain, but alive. She'd fallen for over a floor, but her coattail had caught on a small upward point jutting out from one of the stones just long enough to save her.

“Iliana! Iliana!” A panicky voice called her name far above.

“I'm alright!” Iliana whispered as loudly as she dared. Elise appeared to hear, as the sounds of panic above subsided. Iliana forced herself to take a few deep breaths, gritting her teeth against the pain and trying to blink the tears out of her eyes. Then she began to climb down again, trying to assuage her aching body the fall had been a shortcut. She had only a couple floors left, even if she did now have a leg that nauseated her with pain if she put her weight on it. She soon got back into the climbing rhythm again, proceeding fairly easily until she got to another stone too big to find a foothold. She dared to look down this time. The ground was less than three metres away by now. With a pang of relief from her tormented, trembling fingers, she jumped down.

She almost howled in pain as her wounded right knee couldn't take her weight, buckling under her and leaving her landing on the ground in a groaning heap. She managed to roll onto her back to inspect herself. Her knee was a bloody mess and had torn through her trousers, but didn't seem broken. Her frock coat had small tears at the shoulders to match Iliana's bruises, and a big tear in the coattail that had saved her. With a sigh, Iliana tore off the coat tail entirely and bandaged her knee with it. She decided to leave the rest of the coat behind, as it was a complete mess that would just draw attention to her. She was warm enough from the exertion anyway, for now, and hopefully her waistcoat and frilly shirt would be enough to keep her that way.

The courtyard was empty, although she could see the tails of the captive dragons just around the corner. She'd see to them later. She crossed the courtyard, making sure to wave back to Elise once she was sure she could see her. She mimed a clock, hoping to make clear to the other girl that they had a bunch of time left, so she was going to lay low for a while. That wasn't quite true, of course.

She walked into the Golgosk Castle proper, trying to appear as casual and non-suspicious as she could. There was no way she wasn't going to be seen by someone, so blending in was her best hope. As it turned out, she was recognised by the first person she met: Olga.

“Iliana?!” the girl gasped, almost dropping the stack of dishes she was carrying. “You're free?!”

“Shh,” Iliana said, quickly dragging Olga to the side, annoyed she'd been noticed, but quickly realising it might be a good thing. “I escaped a bit early, I've got some business to take care of before we go.”

Her eyes grew large. “Business?”

Iliana smiled. “Don't worry about it. Why don't you come along and give me a hand, though?”

“I dunno...” Olga mumbled.

“Well, it'd be much easier than having to find each other afterwards for the escape. That would take time, and I don't expect I'll have much. This is a big castle, it's easy to miss each other...”

Olga swallowed. “O-okay, I'll help.”

Iliana smiled. “Good. Do you have access to the sickbay?”

“I suppose so...” Olga said. “Do you need something for your leg?”

“I need some kind of strong sedative.”

“Is it that bad?” Olga said sympathetically. “We've definitely got leaves of passion flowers, so I'll get you some.”

“Not really what I'm looking for,” Iliana said. “Master Contomera taught me how to make a potion called soporimia; if you can get me the ingredients...”

Olga's eyes went wide. “The doctor always has some in sickbay for emergencies, but you don't want that. You'll sleep for hours.”

“Don't worry about it, just get me some. The more, the better. And,” she said, overruling the smaller girl's protests, “I'll need some bandages, a sharp knife, and a cup of tea... actually, make that two. It'll be a long night.”

“...Alright,” Olga said. “It'll take me a little while, though. I'll get rid of the dishes and meet you then, alright?”

“I'll be in the main hall,” Iliana said, pleased Olga didn't question her.

The main hall had few people or dragons left at this hour, the market stalls and little shops built into the wall all closed. An incomplete dragon's harness and bridles lay at the closed leathercrafter's, various metal parts still at a smith, and so on. Iliana's initial nervousness abated once the first people she passed didn't scream out about the escaped prisoner. Fewer and fewer people were around as the night stretched on.

Olga entered the main hall after a while, carrying a bunch of things with her and trying to look inconspicuous. “Got it all,” she said.

“Thank you,” Iliana said. “Come on.”

“...Shouldn't we bandage your leg?”

“We'll do it later,” Iliana said with a smirk, leaving the great hall and climbing the great spiral stairs she'd been carried up a few days before. Olga followed her more and more nervously as she made her way though the castle's halls into corridors full of doors to dragonriders' quarters. Even if she didn't remember the way, she could've followed the trail of luxury up past better and better quarters. Of course an arrogant prat like Igor Karkhosov would have surrounded himself with luxury in the highest room in the highest tower. They climbed several more spiral stairs, until Olga protested.

“Iliana, we're not allowed up here...”

“I'm not allowed anywhere, remember?” Iliana said. “I'm an escapee.”

Olga glanced about nervously at the vivid statues of dragons lining the corridor. “Why are we going up this high?”

“I need to get to the Dragonlord's quarters,” Iliana said.

“But those are guarded!”

“Yeah, that's why- someone's coming, hide!”

They hid behind a statue of an enraged dragon as several men passed by, talking to each other. Iliana beckoned Olga onwards as soon as possible, climbing a final spiral stair to the top of the keep. The younger girl stopped her at the top of the stairs. “Iliana, the Dragonlord's quarters are guarded. We can't go on...”

“Guards who get thirsty, I'm sure, having to stand around all night. I'm sure they'd love it if you brought them a cup of tea.”

“B-but-”

“Tea to which I'll just add a dab of soporimia...” Iliana poured a few drops from the tiny little bottle Olga had brought her into the tea and stirred. It had gone a bit lukewarm, but would hopefully still be good enough to get them to drink. “Now go bring this to the guards.”

Olga fretted fearfully. “But what if they punish me for being here? I'm not allowed...”

“Olga, they won't care. If they 'forget' about the rules, they can have tea.”

“I'm scared...” Olga mumbled.

Iliana rolled her eyes. “I'd do it for you, but they know me. You've got no choice. Don't worry, you'll be fine.”

“W-well, if you say so...”

Iliana waited, listening and hoping she was right. If the guards didn't fall for it, she'd have to run. Fortunately, Olga returned with empty cups. “They drank it,” she whispered, “but nothing happened yet.”

“They'll be out soon,” Iliana said. “I'll go in alone when they are. Could you use the bandages to tie them up while I'm in there? It wasn't that much soporimia, and we don't want them alarming everyone when they awake.”

“Iliana, why are you going in-”

“Don't worry about it,” Iliana said. “Just tie them up.”

After a few minutes, Iliana cautiously looked into the corridor, which was emblazoned with Golgosk's banners – a stark black triangle on a white background. Two burly men lay sleeping on the ground in front of Igor's office. As Olga went to work tying them up, Iliana very slowly entered the door, taking the knife from the pocket she'd stashed it in. If Igor was asleep in there, he'd wake up with it in his chest. If not... she might be able to find something useful anyway in the office.

The office was dark and quiet, except for the snores coming from the door in the back. Her heart pounding in her throat, Iliana grabbed a few of the most important looking papers, folding them up into a pocket. She didn't have time to decipher them in the dark... hopefully they weren't wedding plans again. Then, as quietly as she could, she sneaked into the sleeping quarters.

The massive forms of the sleeping dragons, one grey and green, the other gold, orange, and yellow, were the first thing she saw in the dark. They lay against each other in their shallow pit, apparently deep asleep. Skrain gave a low rumble in his sleep, and Iliana shuddered, thinking of Conchita. If she made any noise, she could find herself going the same way very soon...

Very silently, step by step, she made her way to the bed, to Igor's snores, drawing the knife. If she cut his throat first, he wouldn't be able to wake the dragons. She stood at the side of the bed, knife raised... and realised Igor wasn't snoring. The woman next to him was. She was a middle-aged lady, cradled in the vile lizard's arms, smiling peacefully in her sleep. And with a pang of distaste, Iliana realised she'd have to kill her too. She might be able to stop Igor from making a sound, but she wouldn't be able to stop him from moving in pain before he died, probably awakening his wife. If she screamed the dragons awake...

Well, Iliana thought, clenching her jaw, if two people were going to die in this room, it wouldn't be her and Igor. She'd rather kill the woman than be eaten by a dragon. She might be able to kill them both without a sound if she was quick enough. She steeled herself for it. She couldn't afford to hesitate once she struck. The woman was smiling, she told herself. She clearly liked Igor. Her heart was probably just as black as his. She was probably the mother of Antonin and Vladimir. In a way, she was responsible for their actions. And it would be quick. It wasn't like she'd suffer like Conchita had...

As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could make out the pictures on the wall: they were children's drawings. There were many different ones, from artists with clearly varying skill levels, ranging from a family of stick figures to an actually quite well done portrait of Igor's dragon. The only thing all of them had in common was that they were all obviously presents from children to their parents. Several of the drawings depicted Igor riding his dragon with a child – presumably the artist. Others were him giving the child a ride on his shoulders, or just holding their hand. Some of his children had drawn however many siblings they had at the time, others had drawn themselves with just their father or mother, or one of their dragons, but all of them were testaments to a strong familial bond. As Iliana looked on the children's parents, she was struck with the bizarre realisation that certain people actually did love Igor, for whatever reason.

“You're cold, nasty, and vindictive,” Elise's words echoed through her word. Was she really here for revenge and ready to kill a potentially innocent woman along with her target? There was more to it... Zhyal, and all the rest of the world, had to be protected from Igor's greed. But that wasn't really why Iliana was here, if she was honest with herself. She was here for personal reasons. She was here for revenge, to kill the man she hated. The man who, she had just learnt, truly was loved by his massive family.

She lowered her knife with distaste, giving Igor a glower. He was lucky to have his wife with him. Family or no, she would have killed him if it had been just him. She sneaked out again, past the sleeping dragons, through the office, and out the door.

“You were in there for ages,” Olga said.

“Yes,” Iliana muttered. “Let's go.”

“Are you okay?” Olga asked. “Did you do what you came for?”

“Doesn't matter,” Iliana snapped, already beginning to feel like a fool as they walked down the stairs. She had had a chance to be rid of Igor once and for all, and hadn't taken it just because he was sleeping next to some woman? She could've known he would be, given the existence of their spawn! She should turn back and finish the-

“Olga, what are you doing here?” A tall, strict-looking old woman snapped as they ran into her in one of the corridors.

“Madam Garov!” Olga squeaked. “I-I was just cleaning!”

“Cleaning at this hour? ...And who's this?” Madam Garov turned a vulture-like gaze on Iliana, who was reminded of her mother.

“I'm... Conchita Markov,” Iliana said.

“And what were you doing here?” the old woman asked sharply. “You're not a servant, who are you?”

Iliana steeled herself and drew herself up as straight an impressive as possible, a look which she hoped her clothes aided her with. “That is between me, the Dragonlord, and my master.”

The old woman startled. “Do you mean-”

“What I mean is none of your business, servant,” Iliana said.

“I'm sorry,” she said, much more demurely. “Was this girl bothering you?”

“Take a walk,” Iliana said coldly, ignoring the question. “Don't mention this to anyone.”

As Madame Garov drooped off with fear in her step, Olga breathed a sigh of relief. “That was close...”

They left the castle, returning to the courtyard. It was time to free the dragons. Iliana might have failed to kill Igor, but she could at least escape. “Iliana?” Olga whispered. “What do we do with the guards?”

Iliana hadn't even seen them yet, tiny figures easy to overlook in the darkness as they guarded the tied-up dragons. Iliana hadn't counted on that, though she probably should have. “...I don't know.”

“Well, that's a rather big oversight, don't you think?” Iliana and Olga turned to the speaker with a start. A wiry woman sat on a small, free-standing wall, her black leather jacket reflecting what little light there was. Her skin and eyes were the mahogany-brown that identified her as Zhyalan, and her hair was long, grey, and thickly curled. She hopped down from the wall. “Well, it's about time you showed up.”

Iliana's eyes shot wide open. “Time?”

The woman gave an annoyed, heavy breath. “Well, Oturia will be ready for your escape soon! Don't dilly-dally and keep them waiting like you did me.”

“...Petya Polyakov?”

“Obviously. Where's Krum?”

“Locked up,” Iliana said. “Still need to free him.”

Petya raised a bushy eyebrow. “You didn't leave much time for that, girl.”

“Iliana. And we'll have the help of the dragons.”

Petya rolled her eyes. “Dragons that are still tied up and guarded. I was waiting here expecting to see Krum with an actual plan, not a child in fancy dress with some flim-flam.”

Iliana stood her ground. “I just came up with a plan. I hear you're a boxer, so why don't you go punch out the guards?”

Petya smiled. “Nice one.”

“Thank you,” Iliana said, “so how about it?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I'm not here to help you. I can't get involved, or I'll be in trouble with Igor.”

“We could drug them again?” Olga spoke for the first time; she'd been half-frozen with fear. “Worked for the Dragonlord's guards...”

“We don't have soporimia left, nor tea,” Iliana said. “Petya, are you from Zhyal?”

“My parents were. Why?”

“From the looks of them, you're far from the only Zhyalan dragonrider in Golgosk.”

Petya shrugged. “Zhyal is right next to Golgosk.”

“Well, they've got to be angry at what Igor's doing to our home! What if you all rose up against him?”

“We wouldn't stand a chance,” Petya said firmly, “we're not as many as we look. Plenty of the darker riders here come from much farther away, and there are also a good deal who only descend from Zhyalan stock, but never lived there themselves.”

“Hmm...” Iliana said.

“Anyway, you don't have time to dilly-dally away,” Petya said. “Oturia will be ready for your escape soon.”

“You're right, we have to hurry,” Iliana said. “Hide behind the wall and knock them out when they pass. If you're quick enough, they won't see you.”

Before Petya could argue, Iliana had stepped out into the open, quickly walking towards the dragons, then suddenly turning without getting too theatrical or overdone. Her plan worked: one of the guards spotted her, spoke a few words to his colleagues, and followed her as she left his sight Around the small wall. When he came by to investigate, Petya knocked him out with a quick jab to the chin, dragging him out of sight immediately.

Iliana smiled. “Now we just repeat that twice more.”

The second guard was more cautious as he followed Iliana, but still unprepared for Petya. As Iliana walked out for the third, however, she found a musket aimed right for her, the guard much closer by than expected. “Don't move.”

Iliana obeyed, raising her hands. Petya jumped out and tackled her to the ground almost immediately. “Got you! Think you can escape from Golgosk, do you?”

“Madam Polyakov?” the guard asked.

Petya smiled, hauling Iliana to her feet. “Good work, man! This petty flimmer-flammer escaped from her cell. I'm sure Lord Igor will reward us handsomely for her recapture.”

The guard lowered his musket and walked over. “What about Vladislav and Harry? Are they- Urk!” Petya punched the third guard out as well as he walked by her to check on his colleagues.

“Hmm,” Petya said. “Quite a mess, quite a mess.”

“Indeed,” Iliana said, brushing the dirt off what remained of her coat.

“Well, hurry up!” Petya snapped. “Go liberate the dragons. Fly fast before you get caught in the hustle-bustle. I won't be able to help you any further; my dragon would get recognised.”

Iliana nodded her thanks.

As she and Olga started walking to the dragons, Petya frowned. “Are you going too, Olga?”

Olga nodded timidly.

“I thought you had parents here?”

“Not any more, madam Polyakov,” Olga mumbled.

“Oh,” Petya said, “I see. Well, Iliana, say hi to Krum for me.”

Olga followed her timidly towards the dragons. “Iliana? Won't that third guard tell everyone Petya helped us escape?”

“I imagine she'll take care of it,” Iliana said absently. “Don't worry about it.”

The two dragons were both awake, watching Iliana approach with eyes wide. She knelt down next to Bheithir, stroking his scarlet head. “I'll have you free in just a moment, but you have to be quiet, understand? If they find us out, we can't free Michael.”

At the mention of his rider's name, Bheithir's crest stood up happily and a grin spread on his face. Shushing, Iliana cut through the think ropes anchoring his jaws to the ground. The dragon happily snapped his teeth at the air, but stayed silent otherwise as she unbound his wings and legs. He stretched, eagerly hopping around her, barely able to wait to be able to make sound.

Next was Sredna. She grumbled and growled softly as Iliana tried to calm her and make it clear she wasn't to make a sound either. She suddenly felt a powerful flash of fear and discomfort. “Hey,” she said chidingly, “aren't you a bit old to be projecting your feelings like that? I'm teaching Syderet not to.”

The dragon muttered to herself. “You'll be back with Krum soon enough,” Iliana said, gently stroking her ruffly, brown feathers as she took off the rope that muzzled her. Sredna didn't start playing around like Bheithir, but showed her gratitude for her freedom with a brief look in her purple eyes.

“Bheithir,” Iliana said, “stop fooling about and let me ride you.”

The colourful dragon snapped his jaws at the air jokingly.

Iliana glowered at him. “I made Contact with a leader. You will obey me, fighter.”

With an apologetic look, Bheithir lowered his crest submissively and sunk through his front legs, letting Iliana climb on his back as Sredna watched with amusement.

“I don't have a saddle for you,” Iliana said as she settled among the feathers of his shoulders, “so be careful. I'll have to hold your feathers, and I don't want to hurt you accidentally. Now, stand up against that wall. Sredna, over there!”

As the dragons reared up on two legs, planting their shorter forelimbs into the wall, lights turned on inside. Not much time left. “Bheithir, get the window! You too, Sredna!”

The two dragons, on Iliana's orders, stuck their heads into the windows, using their short horns and teeth to break off the great stones and widen the openings. Iliana winced at the noise, but it was too late for stealth anyway. Golgosk Castle was waking up. Bheithir pulled his head out of the enlarged opening, looking back at Iliana with open-mouthed joy. Elise waved from the window, now easily large enough to let her through.

“Well, go on then, give her a lift!” Bheithir dutifully rested his head at the base of the enlarged window, letting Elise step out onto his head, before retracting it, the feathers around the base of the neck almost making it look as if he had no neck at all as Elise jumped off his head, quickly taking place behind Iliana. Dozens of people had gathered in the courtyard by now, pointing and whispering.

“Well done, lass!” Krum said, already on his dragon's back with Michael and Olga behind him. Bheithir happily stretched out his neck again to give Michael a lick. “Now let's go!”

Iliana was about to protest she had saddle nor flight training and was riding a strange dragon, but Sredna already launched into the air, and Bheithir took off as well to stay with Michael. Just in time: dragons were already emerging from whatever nooks and crannies of the castle their quarters led to. Iliana and Elise held Bheithir tightly around the neck, and Michael and Olga held on for dear life themselves on Sredna. Krum was the only one of them who didn't seem scared to fall off, happily directing his dragon with only one hand, their decades of experience together coming in useful.

There was little use directing Bheithir, who was ecstatic to see Michael and only wanted to follow him while performing endless tricks of joy and roaring happily. He briefly spun upside down, rolling in the air and almost losing his riders to the sheer depths of the Golgosk mountains. Krum told his dragon to fly as fast as he could, but even so, the dragons of Golgosk were catching up.

“Bheithir, no,” Iliana said as calmly as she could. “Stop fooling around! You're going to throw us off!”

Bheithir calmed down a bit as she gave his neckfeathers a pull to underline her words. Elise was clinging to Iliana's back, keeping her a bit warmer against the icy mountain air. She really should've picked up her torn coat again... “Those dragons are getting awfully close, Illy...”

Iliana glanced back. She was right: the small orange lights of the flames already building in dragon throats were getting closer and closer to Bheithir's tail. “Where is Oturia?!” Iliana said.

“...Maybe Remus didn't trust a Golgoskian rider and decided not to send riders?” Elise said, shivering.

“That- Bheithir, down!” Iliana's stomach lurched as they were in freefall for a moment as Bheithir dived, flames blazing just overhead. Bheithir steadied himself, then started lurching from side to side to dodge further flames.

“Iliana!” Krum shouted. “Turn around!”

“What?” Elise exclaimed as Sredna began to turn towards the Golgoskian dragons. “What's he doing?”

It took her a moment, but then Iliana got it, giving Bheithir's feathers a tug. “Bheithir, turn left! Now!”

The dragon obeyed, following Sredna and her passengers right through the swarm that followed them. Ahead of the Golgoskian dragons, they were sitting ducks, but their enemies couldn't risk flaming without hitting each other this way. They bolted rapidly through the enemy ranks, the two dozen or so dragons passing by as colourful flashes in the dark. A few of them, all sneakers, managed to turn around quickly enough that they were right on Bheithir's tail, while the others disappeared into the dark night. Iliana told the great red dragon to slow down a little to let them catch up and make sure they couldn't be flamed.

A blue dragon hit Bheithir's side with the force of an impacting meteor, forcing Iliana to grip his neck tightly. Bheithir roared and half-rolled in mid-air, lashing at the smaller dragon with his claws and throwing it off. There was a scream behind Iliana as Elise fell off Bheithir's back, disappearing into the darkness below. Just as Iliana was about to scream in shock and horror herself, Elise landed hard on the back of a green dragon sneaking up beneath them. It snarled in pain at her impact.

Iliana and Bheithir pulled up sharply to dodge yet another dragon's jaws aimed for his neck, and when Iliana could see Elise again, she had reached the green dragon's rider, punching him out and taking the reins as he bobbed about unconsciously, still strapped into his saddle. Unfortunately, she hadn't counted on the dragon itself protesting. It craned its neck and furiously snapped its jaws at her, only missing her because she hid behind the unconscious body of its rider.

“Dive, Bheithir!” Iliana commanded, manoeuvring the dragon underneath the other one. “Jump, Elise!”

Between the other dragon swerving so much as it tried to catch Elise and the darkness, it was almost impossible to estimate where she should fly for Elise to jump. Iliana directed Bheithir upward, telling him to grab the other dragon instead. They tangled in mid-air for a moment, snapping at each others with jaws and claws, and Elise took the opportunity to jump over, catching a hold of Bheithir and taking place behind Iliana again. She muttered her thanks, panting as Bheithir disengaged from the other dragon with a big push. The rest of the dragons had caught up to them, once again surrounding Bheithir, Sredna, and their riders. They were prepared for sudden turns this time around.

In the darkness beyond, a massive, geometric pattern of flame tongues erupted into the air. Dozens of shapes flashed by as dragons, Oturian dragons, swooped in from nowhere, their strict formation creating the pattern in an obvious warning to the disorganised Golgoskian pursuers. They didn't need to hit a single one: the display made the message clear. Bheithir roared jubilantly as the Golgoskian dragons turned back to their distant castle and the Oturian formation safely enveloped them.

Elise hugged Iliana tightly from behind. “We did it! We escaped! Woo!”

Iliana bent her head away in annoyance. “Yes, I know, don't shout it in my ear.”

–

It was still deep in the night by the time they returned to Oturia, the Sun just about to rise. Iliana and Elise were only kept at the debriefing for a little while. Iliana was asked to tell Remus her side of the escape and then Krum sent her on her way with a fond smile. “See to your dragon, lass.”

Syderet and Zapatilla had been cared for in a nursery in the sickbay by prospective candidate-dragonriders. Their sleeping baskets sat snugly in a corner together. Elise made a muffled, happy squeaky noise and grabbed Iliana's arm, but she couldn't blame her. Seeing Syderet curled up asleep like this, a little ball of ruffled blue feathers, melted her own heart and made her knees weaken. She knew she should let him sleep, but couldn't possibly resist giving him a gentle pet, touching his wonderfully soft feathers and running her hand through them.

A crimson eye opened just a sliver, then shot wide open. Syderet jumped up out of his basket in a cloud of feathers, crying out loudly in triumph, landing on Iliana's shoulders and knocking her to the ground. She was overcome with a powerful wave of warm elation and love, whether her own or Syderet's, she didn't know. The blue dragon squeaked, chirped, and barked loudly in joy, licking her face with his grey tongue and just about jumping somersaults with excitement. Zapa, jumped up in shock at Syderet's noise, saw Elise, and pounced her in much the same way. Iliana crooned back at Syderet softly, cuddling him happily. “You've grown,” she said, barely able to keep tears out of her eyes as she finally managed to get up. “Such a pretty dragon.”

9: Chapter Nine: Factories and Flying Feathers

Chapter Nine: Factories and Flying Feathers

“Hey... can I talk to you?”

Elise and Michael looked up from their dinner as Iliana appeared next to their table. Actually, Michael just about jumped to his feet, flushing deeply. “Iliana! I – Elise – um, we were just-”

“Iliana,” Elise said calmly, hoping Michael would take the hint and stop acting like he'd been caught with someone else's wife, “I'm a little busy right now, why don't we meet up later?”

“It's okay!” Michael said, overly loudly. “Er, I'll go and leave you two in-”

“No, stay,” Elise said sharply. Iliana seemed determined to get on her wrong side today. First there had been her complete overreaction to a harmless prank this morning. Iliana had been up early, so Elise had sneaked into her quarters and put on some of her clothes. They were really quite comfy, especially the smooth fabric of the blue frock coat. She had even draped a brown cloth over her hair with a passable similarity to Iliana's wavy bob cut. Then she had gone around proclaiming herself to be Iliana, which just about everyone had found very funny.

Everyone except Iliana. She had responded to Elise's teasing “Hi, it's me: you!” with a sharp “No, you're not,” and dragged her back to her quarters, all the way fussing about Elise not wearing her outfit quite the same way she did.

“That's a cravat, not a scarf, and what do you think you're doing with my shirt? Didn't bother tucking it in, collar popped... On only one side. You look like a complete tool this way.”

“Fine, so I made some mistakes,” Elise had said as Iliana pulled her into the door of her quarters. “There's no need to get all-”

“And you're supposed to close the shirt,” Iliana had muttered. “What you're wearing over it is called a waistcoat, not a corset.”

Elise had looked at her reflection in Iliana's standing mirror appreciatively. “First of all, Illy, I think it looks pretty fetching like this. You should try showing some chest yourself, you'd look pretty hot.”

“No, I wouldn't,” Iliana snapped, “I'd look ridiculous, as you've kindly demonstrated.”

Elise flushed in anger. “And the second reason I didn't close it is that if I had, you'd now be shouting at me for tearing off its buttons. That shirt might fit around your mosquito bites, but there's no way I'd fit in.”

“Then you shouldn't have worn it in the first place!”

“Fine, then I'll change!” Elise did so in the bathroom, grumbling to herself about Iliana's overreaction to a harmless prank. But her anger subsided as she put on her own outfit. She knew how proud Iliana was and how attached she was to her outfit. While apologising felt wrong, considering she was the one who was shouted at, she'd best do so. Swallowing her pride was worth it to preserve their friendship, and Iliana was unlikely to do it.

Elise stepped out again, handing a frowning Iiana her folded clothes back. She adopted a sad, guilty look. “Sorry, Illy... It was just a joke...”

“Oh,” Iliana said, her stern face melting into awkward guilt as she refolded her clothing. “Er, I didn't mean- What's this?” she fished a thick, folded piece of paper out of the waistcoat's pocket. “Irresponsible, idiotic imbecile!”

Elise shrunk a bit.

“Not you, me,” Iliana said as she spread the paper out on the table. “Not to mention a bumbling, brainless boob and an obtuse, oafish oatmealbrain! I can't believe I forgot about this!”

Elise giggled, despite herself. “Oatmealbrain?”

Iliana ignored her, focussing on the papers. “I stole these from Igor's office five weeks ago, and I completely forgot!”

“You were in Igor's office?”

“Come on, we've got to show these to Krum,” Iliana said, gathering up the papers and wooshing out of the door.

“Krum?” Elise asked, trying to keep up with Iliana's rapid trot through Oturia.

“Yeah, Krum. He promised me we'd do something about Zhyal if there was anything we could do. Come along, Syderet. No, leave Salve alone, come with me.”

Iliana had walked so fast Elise had fallen behind, and she hadn't minded that much. She had still felt rather bitter about Iliana's reaction, and the fact that she'd become completely distracted in the middle of making up didn't help either. She'd spent most of the afternoon with Lana instead, playing with their dragons outside to teach them to fly and hunt. Their dragons were growing so well, and watching Zapa soar through the air always make Elise's heart pound with pride. It was nice to have some time to hang out with Lana as well. She had a quirky sense of humour and her clumsy antics made her a joy to be with. Elise wondered if she'd be interested in her. She knew Lana liked men, but the occasional flirtatious joke or a look in her almond-shaped eyes made Elise suspect she might be interested in women too. Either way, it had been fun to spend some time with her. In the evening, she'd asked Michael out for dinner. A dinner Iliana was now disturbing.

Elise gave Iliana a clear 'get-out-of-here' look. “So, Illy, it was nice seeing you, but I think you've got other things to take care of.”

“Actually, I wanted to talk to both of you,” Iliana said.

Elise almost groaned with frustration. Iliana had to be the worst person at taking a hint she'd ever met. Did she have to spell out the concept of being the third leg to her? As is, the only one who understood that was Michael, and he seemed to think he was it. “Later,” Elise said. “We've only got two chairs.”

“That's alright, I'll get this one!” Iliana dragged one over from a nearby table.

“A-are you sure you don't want mine?” Michael asked, glancing from one girl to the other, deeply embarrassed.

“Yes, she's sure,” Elise snapped. “Iliana, you don't have to apologise.”

Iliana blinked, a surprised look in her deep brown eyes. “Apologise? Oh, this morning! I'm sorry, I was-”

Elise gave her a look.

“Right, no apologies. Um, I'll get straight to business: the Karkhosovs are up to something near Sheliak, building some kind of factory. Gunpowder gets delivered there, so I suspect it's some kind of weapons factory. Remus wants Krum to investigate and take the three of us along.”

Elise raised an eyebrow. “Remus wants us to?”

Iliana blushed a little, suddenly looking very cute. “I wanted it, and Krum convinced Remus for me. He's from Zhyal too, he knows how important it is we do something about the Karkhosovs. If we can expose this factory, that might just show the rest of the world what vile villains they are. They'd have to let Zhyal free just to try and change people's opinions. Anyway, it's also a great opportunity to let our dragons get used to flying longer distances.”

Elise shrugged. “Sure, sounds like it might be fun. I'm in... How about you, Mike?”

“Er, well, last time we were captured...”

Elise pouted coquettishly and crossed her arms, pushing her breasts closer together. That was usually pretty convincing. “Aww, c'mon, I'm sure it'll be fun. All alone in the wild, just you and me... and Iliana and Krum, but my point is, I'm sure we could find some private time...”

Michael blushed deeply, glancing nervously about, directing his eyes anywhere but Elise's cleavage and apparently expecting Iliana to explode at any moment. “Er, alright, I'm in. Anyway, I'm sorry, I just remembered I promised Bheithir I'd brush his feathers, so um, see you.”

“No, wait, Michael!” Elise called after the redhead as he bolted away rapidly. “Damn it!” she slumped onto the table.

“...Are you alright?” Iliana asked.

Elise groaned, looking up at her. “No! You ruined my date, Illy!”

“Date? With Michael?” Was that jealousy in her voice? ...No, just surprise.

“Yeah, date,” Elise muttered, laying her head down on the table again.

“I thought you were just having dinner together.”

“Yeah, we were having dinner together, Illy. You know, candlelit and all that?”

“...Where are the candles?”

“It was candlelit in spirit. Until you had to come along and scare him off.”

“I'm sorry,” Iliana said. “I... guess I'm not being a very good friend today. Interrupting your date and shouting at you...”

Elise felt Iliana's hand giving her hair an apologetic ruffle, and her irritation just melted away at the gentle touch to her sensitive scalp. She looked up into Iliana's pretty brown face, with her high cheekbones and those deep brown eyes, her heart pounding warmly, and wondered if she should ask Iliana on a date instead... But no, not while she felt like this. That wasn't fair to Iliana, who wouldn't feel the same way. “It's alright,” she said, unable to carry a grudge against her lovely friend. “I shouldn't have messed with your clothes, really. I know how attached you are to them.”

Iliana nodded slightly. “Still, I was way too harsh... Look, if you want to dress like me, I'd love to give you tips or to visit a tailor with you.”

Elise smiled. “Maybe some other time.”

Iliana nodded. “Well, I need to go bathe Syderet.”

“What? Why?”

Iliana rolled her eyes and gave her a foxy grin. “He got curious about the steamworks, found his way into coal storage.”

Elise giggled and said goodbye, watching Iliana go, her coat billowing impressively and enticingly around her with every step of those long legs. She sighed, wishing her heart would stop pounding and her scalp stop tingling like that. This wasn't like her at all. She was hardly a stranger to dealing with rejection: if you hit on a lot of people, it was inevitable some of them didn't like girls, or Elise in particular, or wanted a more permanent kind of relationship than she was interested in. That was fine; no use crying over broken eggs, so she usually moved on quickly from them. So why was she still pining after Iliana a month after she was rejected? It was silly and pointless.

Of course, Iliana's rather mixed signals didn't help. But Elise had figured out why she was so very affectionate with her: Iliana had probably never known her mother's love. She hadn't admitted it when Elise had discreetly asked, but it didn't take a genius to figure it out. So clearly, she had found a replacement for that in Elise, a surrogate sister to love in a way she never had. And that was fine; Elise loved the cuddling and ruffling of her hair and sleeping in the same bed. She just had to get her heart to accept the way Iliana felt for her, she thought as she stood up, stacking up the plates and taking them towards the kitchen. On the way, she ran into a petite young girl with big eyes and blonde hair. “Olga!” she said cheerfully. “So nice to see you! How've you been?”

Olga grinned up at her, quickly taking the plates. “All settled in! They even gave me this nice uniform, can you believe it? We had to make our own in Golgosk.”

“Looks nice!” Elise said. “Well, it's a nice job to fill the time until you get your own dragon.”

Olga flushed. “You know I'm too young for a dragon.”

Elise shrugged. “Only by a year. And hey... if you were to sneak into the hatching and accidentally make Contact... Well, if they let Iliana keep a leader, they're hardly going to make a fuss about a couple of little months.”

“...No dragon would want me anyway, I'm just a servant.”

Elise rolled her eyes. “And I wasn't even that, I was sort of, er, between jobs when I got Zapa. Anyway, what's important is whether the dragons like you.”

“I dunno,” Olga said, looking at her shoes.

“You don't? You must have tried talking to dragons at some point.”

Olga mumbled something including the word 'scared'.

Elise grabbed her hand and pulled her along. “Well, come on then, I'll introduce you to my little princess Zapa! She'll probably be more scared of you than you of her!”

“O-okay, but I'm at work...” Olga said.

“Yeah, but you work for the dragonriders! I'm a dragonrider, so I'm your boss, and you don't need to worry.”

She took Olga down to the play gym where she'd left Zapa. The little red and orange dragon chirped happily, seeing her rider, jumping off the rack she'd climbed in and fluttering over to give her a cuddle. Elise happily responded, thinking a bit wistfully of the days when the dragon could've jumped into her arms. Since her shoulder height was already over Elise's head, that wouldn't work very well any more. “Hey there, sweetie. Look, I brought you a new friend!”

Zapa eyed Olga hesitantly.

“Go on,” Elise said, “give her a pet. They love having the long feathers of their crests scritched.”

Zapa yelped as Olga stretched out a hand to her and hid behind Elise.

“Don't be silly,” Elise laughed, “Olga is alright.”

The dragon cautiously stepped forward, lowering her head both in deference and to let the short girl reach her. Olga, her hands trembling a little, touched her and gasped. “She's so soft!”

Elise giggled. “Nice, isn't it? Mind you, all those soft, powdery feathers get absolutely everywhere. Especially now she's moulting.”

Olga giggled as Zapa nuzzled her a bit. “Why does she moult?”

“Growing new colours, I suppose. They start off just a single colour, and get prettier as they grow older... Of course, Zapa is already gorgeous. Aren't you?” Elise crooned.

–

They flew south, soon leaving the mountains behind for vast forests crossed by an intricate pattern of rivers, brooks, and lakes. Iliana spent more time watching Syderet than the landscape. She was so very proud of him, bravely flying along with the adult dragons without trouble, even if it was probably easier to fly with only a practice saddle instead of two humans on his back. His flight was so smooth and easy, very different from the fluttering he'd started with only a few weeks before. Iliana was flying with Krum this time, while Elise sat behind Michael. Zapa and Syderet beat their smaller wings rapidly to keep up with the adult dragons as the forests turned denser, a thick mist hanging over them.

“We're nearly there,” Krum said. “Sheliak is just beyond that ridge.”

“Ever been there?” Iliana asked.

Krum harrumpphed. “Once. Miserable place. I don't know how they survive the insect bites, the stench of stale water, and the mud devouring your feet if you step off stone.”

“...I wonder if the riders of other orders think the same way about Oturia's endless snow and the heights?”

Krum smiled. “They do, lass.”

They passed Sheliak at a distance, keeping the ridge in between as they flew further over the forests and swamps. At last, a pair of smoke plumes appeared ahead, a few dragons floating between them. For stealth's sake, they landed across a small river and some forest, next to a clean-looking lake. Syderet and Zapa eagerly dived into the lake, ruffling their feathers as they bathed, panting after the long flight. After the dragons had had a chance to rest, they set off into the forest together. Progress was slow and muddy. It was so warm and moist Iliana eventually gave in to the others' advice and took off her coat. Elise teased her mercilessly, but unfortunately marshes simply weren't very friendly places to elegant clothing.

The factory lay in a large clearing that was being expanded by teams of lumberjacks, guarded by dragons and their riders. It was an unsightly stone structure with a tall, brown chimney that belched out smoke. The smoke made Iliana shudder, thinking of Syderet's sensitive lungs. The factory had several watermills on the side of the river that ran through the clearing, and several smithies were propped up against it, most of the smiths hammering metal sheets into half spheres. A troop of workers marched from the shacks that presumably served as their homes into the factory, under cautious watch of dragonriders. The workers and most of the Sheliak dragonriders had black hair and eyes, and a light-brown complexion.

After watching the factory from the forest's edge for a while, the dragonriders retreated to a safer clearing across the river. “You were right,” Elise said with a smile for Iliana. “They really are up to no good.”

Syderet made a proud little narbling sound.

“Maybe...” Krum said, “but we'll need more than that. We need evidence, not just speculation.”

“So let's call in Remus,” Elise said. “Have him take over this place by surprise. Have you seen how haggard most of those people were? They're being treated like animals, so I'm sure they'll give all the evidence we need.”

“Not good enough, I'm afraid,” Krum said. “Remus won't take action unless we can assure him they're creating a weapon for nefarious purposes.

“But those people were clearly treated poorly...” Michael said.

“Yeah!” Elise threw an arm around him and squeezed him tightly against her. “We should intervene, just for that!”

“That won't be enough for Remus,” Iliana said. “There are plenty people worse off. He can't go around policing the entire world, trying to help everyone.”

“...Isn't that exactly what we do, though?” Michael said, blushing a bit at Elise's affections. “Dragonriders, I mean. We're here to protect and help others.”

Iliana smiled a bit at his naivete. “Sure, but we should look at the big picture. If Oturia attacks and doesn't find anything worse than workers being treated poorly, we'll probably be at war with both Sheliak and Golgosk. Hardly worth it.”

“Quite right,” Krum said. “We'll need to see the inside of that factory ourselves before we can call for help.”

“Disguise ourselves as workers?” Iliana asked.

“We would stand out like a sore thumb,” Krum said with a chuckle. “Especially miss Berlioz.”

“Me?!” Elise blurted out. “Why me?!”

Iliana pointed at her hair with a smirk.

“Right,” Elise said, dragging a hand through her newly-dyed green curls, “I guess I would. What if we just went in as dragonriders instead?”

“Good idea!” Iliana said. “We could pretend to be from Golgosk, just checking in on them.”

Krum nodded. “Good idea, lass.”

Syderet gave Iliana a proud lick.

“Unfortunately, I'll have to stay here,” Krum said. “I recognise some of those Sheliak riders. I'm sure they'd recognise me too. Mister O'Connor, you'll go in, while we remain here as back-up.”

“All three of us?” Iliana said. “Why?”

“We need someone as a backup, and to alert Oturia if he gets caught.”

Iliana rolled her eyes. “Krum, you know what I mean: why should Elise and I stay here?”

“Because you'll be safer if you stay here.”

Iliana rolled her eyes. “Remember how I broke you all out of jail? I hardly think you need protect me.”

“I don't doubt your courage, lass,” Krum said, smiling patronisingly, “but that was a unique situation. I don't think we should endanger the lives of two new riders.”

“Girls, you mean?” Iliana sneered.

Krum frowned. “If you prefer. Either way, we should leave it to Michael.”

Elise stamped her foot angrily. “That's such dragonshi-”

“Krum, that's completely unreasonable,” Iliana said. “Do you give female dragonriders under your command safe positions in combat too?”

“Both you and your dragons are still young,” Krum said, ignoring the question.

“So are Michael and Bheithir,” Iliana said. “Michael is younger than me, for crying out loud, and not half as clever.”

“Um,” Michael said.

“No offence, Michael,” Iliana said.

“...Quite some taken,” Michael muttered.

“Besides,” Elise said, “wouldn't it be better if Mike had some backup on the spot as well? Whether there's three of us here or just the one won't change much, but two more could help immensely in the factory!”

Krum frowned. “Perhaps, but Bheithir can't comfortably carry three.”

As Elise protested, Iliana whispered to Syderet: “Think you could fly me?”

The dragon happily snapped his jaws and raised his crest, lowering his front legs a little to let Iliana climb on. He didn't have a saddle, but it didn't need to be a long flight. As Iliana sat down on his shoulders, Syderet started a sprint, unfolding sky-blue wings. He flapped them a few times, and they hopped up and down a little from their lift. Iliana threw her arms around his soft, feathered neck, whispering her encouragement.

Syderet leapt into the air and flapped his wings. A powerful forced pulled them both up, the ground pulling away from them. They soared over the small clearing, the Sun falling on them and reflecting off Syderet's iridescent feathers. Iliana cried out in joy. “You did it, Syderet! Fantastic!”

Syderet barely even needed to flap his wings now that they were up, soaring gracefully through the air together. It was a feeling unlike any other. Iliana felt so proud, so free, so full of love for her gorgeous dragon. She didn't want it ever to end, but Krum was shouting for her to get down. “Why don't you try landing, Syderet? Carefully, mind you.”

Syderet's landing sent a bit of a shock through both of them, but they landed safely. Iliana jumped off his back and gave him a big, happy cuddle. “That was amazing!” Elise said, running over with Zapa and giving Syderet a pet as well.

“That was some nice flying,” Michael said.

“That was very reckless,” Krum said sharply. “You could've crashed and killed you both.”

“But it proves I can fly,” Iliana said with a grin, her heart still pumping proudly after her flight. “Which means Elise can be Michael's passenger.”

Elise threw an arm around Zapa. “Maybe I could fly too!”

“No,” Krum said. “Syderet is larger. Zapatilla won't be able to carry you safely.”

Elise shrugged and threw another arm around Michael, dragging the tall boy down a little. “Well, I'm sure we'll have a good time on Bheithir again...”

Krum rolled his eyes. “Just go, all three of you. As long as you promise to come straight back here if you run into any trouble.”

Iliana's second flight on Syderet was much longer than her first. Syderet tried to follow Bheithir, who was amused by the younger dragon's antics. Syderet proudly flew, but was clearly tiring by the time they reached the factory. As they landed in the clearing, people approached immediately. Syderet was ready to defend her, so Iliana gave his neck a calming pat. “Don't worry, I'll be fine. Stay away from the smoke.”

“Stand down,” Michael said. “We represent the Order of Golgosk. We're here by Lord Igor's orders.”

One of the man, a tall dragonrider with a thick moustache, gestured for the rest to stand down. “Golgosk riders, huh? Why aren't you wearing your colours?”

Elise sighed. “Silly us, here we thought this was a secret project. In case you hadn't noticed, Oturia is on the way here.”

The other scoffed. “Oturia. As if we have anything to fear from them.”

Iliana stiffened at the contempt in his voice, and as Elise pushed to the front, she feared she might get angry, but to her surprise the other girl spoke calmly, in a calculating tone, her entire body language different, cold and straightforward. “We have not come here to banter about Oturia, but to inspect the project, Sheliak.”

The rider was taken aback. “Inspect it? ...Who are you?”

“Who are you?!” Elise demanded, sounding impressively authoritarian.

“Commander Zahir Amjad,” the Sheliak said, shrinking a bit before the much smaller girl. “Why does Lord Igor want you to inspect the project?”

“None of your business,” Elise said coldly. “I will discuss our orders with none but Lord Antonin himself.”

“Alright,” Zahir said, “follow me.”

Iliana's spine froze. Antonin was here? “Er, madam,” she said to Elise, “I'm afraid we're short on time. Why don't we take a look around while you talk to the Dragonlord?”

“Agreed,” Elise said. “Mister Amjad, get someone to show my helpers around.”

“I'll do it myself,” Zahir said. “Amir, take our guest to Lord Antonin.”

Elise didn't even look at Iliana as a younger man led her away, into the factory, where they took an immediate left turn. Iliana had to admire her transformation. Her entire being radiated a cold aloofness that was completely unlike her. She walked away with long, purposeful strides quite unlike her usual hip-swinging saunter.

Iliana and Michael briefly made eye contact before following Zahir into the factory, where they didn't follow Elise but turned right into a large hall. The noise and smell hit them in the face like the hammers of the smiths. Whole rows of people, grimy and covered in soot, were pulverising coal, the dark dust flying everywhere and finding every crevice. Others were mixing up chemicals in mortars. The stench of rotten eggs and smoke stung in the nose and eyes.

“Does it meet your approval?” Zahir asked.

“So far,” Iliana said, cutting off Michael's answer. The boy had looked about in obvious horror at the factory floor. “I would like to see the final product.”

“Of course,” Zahir said, gesturing for them to follow.

“These people,” Michael said, barely able to keep the indignation out of his voice, “who are they?”

“Traitors from Iriqya,” Zahir said.

“Just the traitors,” Michael snapped bitterly as they passed a trembling old man, his eyes gone red with the dust and smoke, “just the ones who took up arms against Sheliak? Or did you get others as well?”

Zahir had a distant look about him. “I don't know. I prefer not to ask.”

“But-”

“Lord Antonin finds a certain poetry in it, our workers creating the weapons that'll subdue their kin.”

“But you don't?” Michael asked.

“I prefer to stay with the facts, if it's alright with you. Iriqya needs to remain loyal to Sheliak, and these weapons will make it easier for us to subdue them. Pure and simple.”

They entered a door, and stepped into an even deeper level of hell. Workers filled the half spheres supplied by the smiths very cautiously with the various powders that entered by the assembly line. Several of them were missing fingers, noses, or eyes, others had hideous burns. “What happened?” Iliana asked in a breathless whisper.

“Accidents,” Zahir said, averting his gaze from the workers. “Assembling the bombs is dangerous work.”

“And you don't even know if they did anything?!” Iliana almost elbowed Michael in the stomach, but the words were out anyway. It would just make them even more suspicious.

“I prefer not to ask questions I don't want to know the answer to.”

“Maybe you should!” Michael snapped. “Maybe you should ask your 'workers' what got them here!”

Iliana pushed Michael aside. “You'll have to excuse my associate. He simply didn't expect the process to be this dangerous.”

“Indeed,” Zahir said, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I don't particularly like it myself, but we do what we must to keep order.”

“I want to talk to your workers,” Michael said. “We're not leaving until we sort this out!”

“Of course,” Zahir said, narrowing his dark eyes a bit. “I'll show you to the backroom. You can talk all you want there without interrupting our productivity.”

“Lead the way,” Michael said.

“I don't think we should waste our time,” Iliana said, trying to communicate her severe misgivings to Michael through nothing but eye contact. “Or Zahir's, for that matter. I think maybe it's time we-”

“Nonsense,” Zahir said with a grin. “I'm sure you've got time, considering how long you must've flown... and on immature dragons, too.”

“Yes, we've got time,” Michael said sharply.

“I think I should check in with our captain and the Dragonlord,” Iliana said. “I'm sure we've got more to do.”

“Of course,” Zahir said with that simpering smile of his. “Do you need an escort?”

“I'm sure I can find the way back myself.”

“Of course. I'll stay with your associate, then.”

–

Elise was led into the Dragonlord's office. Antonin Karkhosov looked just like an older Vladimir, but bearded, even more self-assured, and somewhat handsome in an obnoxious way. Elise focussed on her role, looking upon him coolly. “Lord Antonin.”

Antonin smiled. “You have me at a disadvantage, miss. Who might you be?”

“Katarina Frostanova, rider of Golgosk. I'm here on Lord Igor's orders.”

“Well, sit, miss Frostanova,” Antonin said, “have a glass of wine and tell me what dad wants.”

While Elise would've liked to sit and drink, Katarina Frostanova was far too formal and cold to fraternise with a superior. She continued to stand, wishing her colourful outfit and hair were a bit more fitting with the persona she'd adopted. “Lord Igor worries your work is progressing too slowly.”

“Does he?” Antonin asked.

“Yes, he does. He also wonders if the fabrication of the weapons isn't too wasteful. My associates are inspecting your factory right now.”

“I'm sure they'll have nothing but good news to report to dad. Anything else?”

“Yes. He wonders whether the weapons really are necessary.”

“Does he?” Antonin stood up to his full length, towering over Elise and peering down at her. “You know, miss Frostanova, I don't remember you from my time in Golgosk. And I'm sure I would never forget seeing someone like you.”

Elise might've shuddered to have Antonin's grey eyes shamelessly move up and down her body, but Katarina Frostanova barely even realised. “We all forget more than we'd like.”

“I'm sure we do,” Antonin said, a wicked smile around his lips. “So, tell me, did dad forget why we need the weapons?”

“Not at all,” Elise said coolly, “he just questions whether they're worth it.”

Antonin paced around her, still smiling nastily. “Then let me tell you, Katarina Frostanova, what they're for. We use them to strike at our enemies safely. Iriqya is armed and ready for dragon attacks. If we punish their insolence with dragonfire, we risk getting shot. So we fly up high, way too high to hit, and just drop our bombs. Boom. No risk, our dragons don't exhaust their flames, no chance they fight back.”

Elise forced herself to focus on being Katarina Frostanova even as she was inwardly revulsed by the concept. How could they even properly aim from such a height?

“Of course,” Antonin said, as if reading her thoughts, “we can't be precise this way. To ensure we hit our target, we fly over in a large formation, every dragon dropping bombs. We destroy everything and everyone in a wide area. Then we swoop in, round up the survivors, and bring them here to build new bombs to use against their kin. Quite poetic, really.”

All that kept Elise from punching the lizard was the fact that she knew he was talking like this to elicit a reaction. She did her very best to focus on Katarina Frostanova, on not bursting out. “Very... efficient.”

“Isn't it?” Antonin said with that horrible grin. “Simple, easy, handy. No danger for us or our dragons, and we can kill the traitorous scum en masse.”

Elise didn't respond, requiring all her concentration to stay calm.

“And because we're in no danger, we can continue as long as we please. We don't need to take any surrender but an unconditional one. I can control Iriqya even more directly than dad controls Zhyal.”

Elise bared her teeth in something not entirely unlike a smile. “Indeed. Will you please excuse me for just a moment?”

–

As Iliana quickly walked to the outside of the factory, Elise emerged from the corridor to the right at a similarly rapid pace. They walked to the exit together. “They know,” Iliana whispered.

Elise nodded. “Where's Michael?”

“Already outside,” Iliana lied.

They walked rapidly to the exit, only to find Amir, the dragonrider who had escorted Elise earlier, stepping out and blocking it, drawing his sword. “Won't you please stay, ladies?” he asked mockingly.

They stopped dead in their tracks. Other riders were already following them, Antonin in charge. As Amir dropped his guard, thinking they'd surrendered, Elise punched him right in the stomach, and as he doubled over in pain, her fist met his face. “C'mon, run!”

Iliana quickly stole the dragonrider's sword as she ran past. Their pursuers, now running too, were catching up fast. There was no way they'd get away, unless...

As they exited through the factory entrance, Iliana skidded to a halt. “Run, Elise, I'll hold them off!”

Elise's eyes bulged. “Illy, no! Can you even use that sword?!”

“I'll be fine,” Iliana said emphatically. “Trust me. Run! Tell Krum!” Elise stood frozen. “Please, go! I promise, I'll be fine.”

As Elise ran off, Iliana breathed a sigh of relief. She stood in the factory's entrance, as widely as she could, raising the sword in a position she'd seen countless swashbuckling heroes use in plays. Antonin and his riders slowed down as he reached the gate, grinning nastily. “Iliana Cavotta! Fancy seeing you here.”

“Well, I am,” Iliana said slowly, trying to buy as much time as she could. “I've come to stop you.”

Antonin chuckled at her overly dramatic tones. “Have you, now?”

“Sir,” Zahir said, “the other one-”

“I'm busy, Zahir,” Antonin snapped, leering at Iliana as he drew his own sword, “we'll find the other girl later.”

Her heart pounding loudly in her ears as her arm was already starting to get tired from her blade's weight, Iliana nonetheless tried to appear impressive. “You'll never get your hands on her, Karkhosov, not as long as I draw breath.”

A chortle went through Antonin and his lackeys. “That's enough posturing, little girl.”

As Antonin raised his sword towards her, Iliana hit it with her own. The impact sent a nasty, metallic shock through her.

Antonin grinned. “Well, if you want to fight...”

As he thrust his blade forwards quite slowly, Iliana just managed to block it. Well, that was enough of this: she'd bought Elise some time, but now she was in actual physical danger herself. She threw the sword at Antonin's feet. “I surrender.”

“What?” Antonin asked.

“I surrender,” Iliana said with the tiniest smile. Elise had almost certainly escaped by now, and her plan to foment revolution from within a position of captivity had a far better chance of success here than it had in Golgosk. “Let's discuss the terms of my captivity.”

“I'm sorry, you must think you're dealing with my father. I'm a man of action.” Iliana dropped herself to the ground as Antonin's blade swung at neck-height.

“I surrendered!” she squeaked. “Y-you're not allowed to-”

“Pick up your sword, little girl,” Antonin said, full of delight. “I don't feel like taking prisoners today.”

“I-I've never used one before,” Iliana said, icy terror gripping her. This wasn't what she'd planned for at all. “I surrender!”

“So it's going to be more of a hunt than a fight? Fine with me!” Iliana jumped out of the way of Antonin's next thrust, backing away slowly, step by step, as she kept her eyes on the bloodthirsty madman's blade. He gave a few more lazy stabs, but she suspected he was just toying with her, that he could probably kill her at any moment he liked if he just did his best for it.

“Antonin,” Iliana said breathlessly, “I'm worth much more to you as a prisoner! A hostage!”

Antonin lunged forward, just barely nicking Iliana's side and giving her a painful cut. “Of course! But you got my little brother in trouble, so I think I'll just kill you as a present to him.”

“I- Aargh!” Iliana's thigh exploded in agony as Antonin managed to hit the side of it, cutting into her flesh. Iliana landed on her knees on the ground, unable to stand from pain. Antonin laughed and raised his sword, ready to strike again. Iliana, feeling her last moments approaching fast, grabbed a hand full of mud and threw it into Antonin's face. The dragonlord cursed and stumbled back. Iliana managed to stand up on her good leg and tried to wrest control of the sword from Antonin's hand. He recovered fast and he was too strong, overpowering Iliana in a moment and throwing her at the ground. He didn't give her a chance to sling more mud, stabbing his blade at her.

A furious blue ball of ruffled feathers crashed into Antonin, crushing him to the ground. Antonin yelled in pain as Syderet's claws dug into his side. Iliana didn't lose a moment and vaulted onto his back. “Syderet, fly!” Iliana didn't want to give the lizard or his lackeys, who were rushing to help, a chance to hurt her dragon. They soared up into the sky as Antonin furiously waved his sword and ordered them killed.

Syderet squawked a challenge at the Sheliak riders as they rushed to their dragons. “Dive, Syderet!” Iliana said. “Get below the trees!”

It was a great risk to fly below the canopy on a dragon still a bit clumsy in the air, but at least there was no way the larger adult dragons could follow them. Iliana forced Syderet to fly slowly so he had time to dodge trees and branches. The Sheliak dragons flew overhead, turning large, slow circles over the marshy forest. Antonin himself joined them after a moment, riding his huge, sleek white dragon. Syderet landed on the banks of the river, still under cover of the overhanding trees.

Antonin's dragon dived down, swooping low over the trees and blowing a great torrent of fire over them. With terrifying crackling sounds, a forest fire began in a long arc. Just as Iliana and Syderet began to run away from it, another dragon did the same on their other side, starting another fire.

“They're smoking us out!” Iliana said, holding Syderet tightly. Surrender was no option: Antonin would have them burnt out of the sky instead. The only escape still open was the river, but it was bound to be watched. “...We'll have to swim underwater, Syderet. Think you can do that?”

Syderet mewled in fear, pushing tightly against Iliana and trying to somehow hide under her arm.

“Syderet, look into my mind. Keep looking into it,” Iliana said, trying to keep her thoughts very calm and reassuring even as the hot smoke already began stinging in her nostrils. She pictures them swimming underwater slowly and successfully, one stroke at a time, trying to hide her many misgivings. The river was over twenty metres wide, and muddy enough that she had no idea how deep it was. But they had to go: if the smoke was already stinging for Iliana, it wouldn't be long until it started damaging Syderet's sensitive lungs. She took off her waistcoat and tied it around Syderet's neck like a scarf, putting her boots, trousers, and a few fist-sized stones in it. Hopefully their weight would be enough to counteract the natural buoyancy granted by the dragon's hollow bones.

They waded a little into the water, which reached a metre's depth very soon, the slimy, muddy ground quickly sinking away. It was awful to walk on, with mouldy sticks randomly poking out of the muck. Iliana kept a very clear plan in her thoughts to calm Syderet. They couldn't go any further without diving, as they were about to leave the cover of the trees. Iliana took a deep breath and immersed herself in the cold water, swimming as low over the bottom as she could without the risk of sticks stabbing her in the face in the muddy blackness. Syderet flattened himself underwater as well, doing his best not to breach the surface. She could feel his mind behind her in constant contact with hers, his fear infectious, but his presence soothing.

They swam as fast as they could, as blind as cave fish in the muck, and soon enough, their lungs burnt for air. Syderet begged her to let him surface, but Iliana kept her mind resolute, forcing both of them to stay down here. After an eternity in the cold, slimy darkness, Iliana swam right into the muddy riverbottom as it rose up before her. She surfaced, taking a grateful breath of delicious air and allowing Syderet to surface too once she'd made sure they were safely under trees. They dragged themselves up the shore and into the forest's safery before finally properly catching their breath.

They had turned into a pair of mudmonsters, their feathers and clothes retaining the brown muck far too well, but they'd made it. Iliana quickly got dressed, delighting Syderet with her praise for his obedience. On the other shore, the forest fire was raging in the entire patch while the dragonriders tried to contain it by dumping water on its edges. The clearing they left Krum in was nearby, so the two of them continued on foot.

“...needs me!” came a distant voice. “We can't just abandon her!”

“They have dozens of dragons, we don't stand a chance!”

“Then I'll do it alone!”

“Not on Bheithir. I won't allow you to sacrifice another rider's dragon in a pointless gesture.”

“Zapa can't fly yet!”

“Precisely. Miss Cavotta is clever, if we're lucky she'll find her own way out.”

“I did,” Iliana said, walking into the clearing, despite feeling quite embarrassed about her wet, muddy clothes.

Elise had her in a tight hug faster than Iliana had thought possible, while Syderet and Zapa enthusiastically spun around each other, yipping a bit in greeting. “Illy, I'm so glad to see you!” she parted from Iliana as she realised she too was now soaked. “Ew! What are you still wearing those clothes for?”

“Well, I had to swim,” Iliana said with a chuckle. “It's your own fault for hugging me.”

“Obviously,” Elise said, “you could just take them off, you know. You'll freeze, wearing wet clothes.”

Iliana rolled her eyes. “I don't have a change of clothes, as well you know.”

Elise grinned lecherously. “Doesn't mean you can't take those off.”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Krum muttered, saving Iliana a response, “leave the flirting for later, please. Where is mister O'Connor, lass?”

“Still in the factory,” Iliana said ruefully. “I had to leave him behind. He really wanted to go in further and I couldn't communicate that they were on to us without giving it away.”

“B-but you told me...” Elise began.

“I'm sorry, Elise, I had to say something to keep you moving.”

“I would've turned back for him, yeah!” Elise said angrily. “How could you just leave him behind?”

“No time for that now,” Krum said. “I want to know everything that happened.”

–

Elise avoided Iliana most of the evening as they waited for night to set in. Krum had left for Oturia, convinced Remus would agree to interfere after hearing Iliana's story. That left Iliana and Elise with the mission to save Michael so he couldn't be used as a hostage.

“Hey,” Iliana said softly as she joined Elise, who was sitting with Zapa.

“Hi,” Elise said without looking at her.

“Sorry about Michael,” Iliana said, sitting down next to her.

Elise sighed. “I'm sure you couldn't do anything about it.”

“I really couldn't,” Iliana said. “I tried to make it clear Zahir knew we were spies, but he was too angry about the state of those people to notice.”

Elise smiled. “He's very dutiful.”

“So I noticed,” Iliana said. “I was disgusted myself.”

“Yeah, me too,” Elise said. “Antonin was vile, and he only got worse once he suspected I was an imposter. He deliberately got nasty to get a rise out of me. Almost succeeded too.”

“You played your role well,” Iliana said.

Elise shrugged. “Wasn't that hard until I met Antonin. I've never met someone I wanted to punch more.”

Iliana raised an eyebrow. “And you didn't? Well done.”

Elise smirked. “I know, I didn't know I had it in me, suppressing my anger that much. Anyway, it didn't feel good, and I don't know why you do it.”

“...Suppressing my anger?”

“Your feelings,” Elise said.

“I don't,” Iliana said, a little sharply.

Elise's eyebrows rose. “Really? Illy, we both know you do it all the time. Bottle it all up and pretend to be cold and logical.”

“I am!” Iliana snapped.

Elise sighed. “Illy, can't you just let it out?”

“Let what out?” Iliana snapped.

“Your anger. Your feelings in general.”

“I don't need to,” Iliana snapped, “I'm far too rational for-”

Elise sighed. “Stop it, we both know you're a passionate and emotional person, you just repress it until you explode.”

Iliana scowled at her in silent scorn.

Elise raised her eyebrows. “And you can stop giving me that look too, I'm not Michael and I'm not intimidated by it, no matter how angry you get.”

“I'm not angry!”

“Illy, you're trying to repress who you are. That doesn't work. You can want to have a cold, rational machine for a mind, but you don't have one. And that's good. I mean it as a compliment when I say you're the most emotional person I've ever met, and that includes the cutie I see in the mirror every day.”

Iliana tried to stay calm, to prove Elise wrong.

“Illy, please stop doing this to yourself. Being emotional doesn't make you any less brilliant. I really love that fire inside you, I just wish you'd stop burying it until it becomes a volcano. If you just let yourself feel...”

Iliana sighed reluctantly. “Maybe you're not wrong... I just...” she threw her hands in a powerless gesture.

Elise gently touched her cuff. “I know. It's hard to admit. You can be so proud,” she gently waved her hands, overruling Iliana's protests, “and you deserve to be. Don't let that pride hurt you. Be proud of the brilliant, passionate girl you are, Illy. You're so much more than just a sharp mind.”

Iliana didn't know whether to be livid or grateful for Elise's words. The truth was they hit home a little too well. And it was easy for Elise to say. Iliana ended up embracing her, more to convince herself not to start shouting at her than in gratitude.

“I'm not trying to insult you,” Elise said, “I just want to help you.”

“I know,” Iliana said. She let go of Elise, looking away, rather embarrassed about this whole conversation. “Er, it's getting late. Everyone will be asleep soon. We should try to save Michael.”

“Yeah, we should.”

They left the dragons there, with clear instructions to stay put and out of sight while they returned on foot to the factory. They bypassed the area burnt down by the forest fire, and came up to the factory's clearing. It was only lit by a few lights at night, but they were bright. At least that'd make it easy for Oturia to find them. There were only a few guards about, but they all wore whistles around their necks that looked like it wouldn't take them long to wake up the entire factory, including the dragons, who slept outside around the back of the factory. There was an eerie silence, without the machines running inside. The smell of the factory, now worsened by the nearby patch of burnt down forest, still hung in the air, though.

They hid at the clearing's edge, Iliana behind a tree and Elise in a bush a little deeper into the forest. Elise waited for the smallest of the guards to patrol near their hiding place, then made a cute sound between a mewl and a growl. The guard peered into the bushes. Elise rustled a little with them, then made a quite different sound, something a little more human-sounding. The guard stepped closer, but wisely didn't go into the bushes himself. He didn't need to: Iliana raised Krum's sword from the tree she'd been hiding behind, poking him softly in the neck with its tip. “Not a sound,” she said softly, “no movements except the ones I order, understood?”

The guard nodded slowly.

“Get behind the bushes,” Iliana said, trying to keep the sword steady. She thought of cutting the whistle's chain, but getting a giant bloodstain on her disguise would make it useless.

Elise knocked the guard out before he had a chance to blow his whistle. They took off his jacket and tied him to a tree. “How do I look?” Iliana asked once she'd disguised herself with the jacket, tying her hair into a bun and hiding it.

“Pretty cute,” Elise said.

Iliana rolled her eyes.

“Fine: I don't think they'll realise you're not a guard in the darkness. From a distance at least.”

Iliana stepped out of the bushes, holding the uncomfortably large musket. One of the other guards was approaching. “I thought I heard something,” she said in a deep voice, looking away from the guard.

“What'd you hear?” he asked, peering curiously into the bushes.

“I don't know,” Iliana said in her normal voice, smoothly slipping behind him, “but you'll hear a very loud gunshot if you turn around or make any sound.”

“Wha-”

“I'm pointing my gun at your head. Walk forward. Now.”

Elise soon had this guard down and tied up as well, emerging from the bushes in his oversized jacket. “You could've picked a smaller guard,” she complained.

Iliana smiled. “I thought it'd fit. Must be your larger-than-life personality.”

They grinned at each other before moving into the clearing again, Iliana a few dozen metres before Elise. She tried to look the part of the guard, but knew she was just coming over as stiff and nervous, which matched how she felt. Elise, despite her ill-fitting jacket, was looking far more natural, having easily adopted the marching gait of the guards and their proud, yet bored attitude.

They walked to the workers' quarters, which seemed like the most likely place Michael might be held, as the workers themselves were captives too. Which was precisely the next problem they were faced with: the building was under heavy guard, from both without and within. They approached as near as they could without the guards noticing they were imposters, then casually patrolled around the building at a range in the hopes of spotting an unguarded entrance. But Elise pointed Iliana to something far more interested: Michael was chained to the wall behind the sleeping dragons. He was very visible; only the darkness that had made her miss him so far.

“What do we do now?” Elise whispered.

Iliana frowned. “I don't know. They obviously want us to try and free him. It's clearly a trap.”

“I guess so...” Elise said.

“Whatever we do about it, we'll have to be very careful not to rouse the dragons...”

“You... you don't think they'd eat us?” Elise said, her eyes wide.

“Not if their riders are sensible,” Iliana said, although that particular fear had also entered her mind.

“Antonin isn't,” Elise said.

“I know.”

“No, really. You didn't talk to him. He's cruel, violent, and mad...”

“Takes after his dad.”

“But worse...”

“Anyway, we'll just have to be careful. A dragon's ears are good, but that doesn't mean they hear everything.”

They had walked back into the forest by now, looking back at Michael sleeping among the dragons. “We can't break those chains without a lot of noise...” Elise said.

“I know,” Iliana said.

“We can't leave him either... if he's still in their hands when Oturia arrives...”

Iliana was startled to find Elise was shivering. She threw an arm around her a little woodenly, giving her what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “We'll get him out, you know.”

Elise nodded tremulously and nestled up against her, just about trying to hide away in her coat like Syderet used to do. “How?”

They sat in silence for a long time as Iliana thought. Finally, she smirked in the darkness. “Bheithir.”

“Bheithir?” Elise squeaked.

“He's got more reason than anyone to want to free Michael, and he's probably strong enough to break his chains. And then he'll double as a getaway. If subtlety won't work, we'll just have to use brute force and be quick about it. We just have to carefully time it so we don't alert the Sheliaks before Oturia arrives.”

“Oooh,” Elise said, her eyes shining in the darkness. “I love it when your plans get this bold.”

They left the guards' jackets with their quite angry, tied-up owners, and returned to the clearing where they'd left their dragons. Syderet and Zapa were asleep under the wings of Bheithir, who was still awake, but lying flat on the ground, sighing regularly, his crest flat and his eyes sad. “Cheer up, Bheithir,” Iliana said, climbing into his saddle. “We're going to save Michael.”

The dragon's head shot up happily, looking back at her with open-mouthed joy. Elise took place behind her.

“We need you to walk to the clearing, Bheithir. No flying until I say so, understand?”

As Bheithir happily trotted through the nocturnal forest, leaving the smaller dragons to sleep, Iliana noticed the feathers of his crest were beginning to grow blue parts. Once they were near, they stopped and waited in silence. Bheithir was quite confused by this and kept looking at his riders expectantly. At last, dragons descended from the sky, to the shock of the remaining guards.

“Now, Bheithir!” Bheithir launched himself into the air at Iliana's command, flying into the clearing in only a few wingbeats. A tongue of flame from above only barely missed his wing.

“They don't know we're on their side!” Elise shouted.

“I know!” Iliana gave the left rein a yank, and Bheithir swerved out of the way of a descending dragon. They flew to the dragons' sleeping place, where Michael was tied up. Bheithir landed right in the middle of the dragons, who were thankfully confused and sleepdrunk enough to let themselves be pushed aside by him. He grabbed Michael's chains in his maw and severed them with a single, solid tug on the wall, before lowering his head to let Michael climb on.

Bheithir roared in pain and was thrown over, nearly crushing Iliana and Elise, as a much larger alabaster dragon flew right into him. A tall, thin figure sat on its back as his draggon grabbed Michael, lifting him off the ground, flailing.

“Tell Oturia to retreat!” Antonin Karkhosov shouted at Iliana. “Or he dies!”

Bheithir bellowed a challenge in response, getting back to his feet as Antonin's dragon launched itself into the sky, Michael's small form dangling in its claws. Iliana didn't even have to order Bheithir: the rainbow-coloured dragon was after Antonin in an instant, climbing impossibly steeply into the air. The Oturian dragons were too busy occupying the factory, holding back the Sheliak dragons, and arresting everyone to stop them escaping. Iliana tried to broadly keep Bheithir below Antonin's dragon as they rose, in case he dropped Michael, but she mainly just encouraged Bheithir in his pursuit.

Antonin turned at impossible speed, suddenly flying past and scorching Bheithir. Iliana could feel the heat of the flames wash over her, even as Bheithir's body shielded her from them. He roared in fury and pain, though his plumage protected him from the worst of the flames. Antonin didn't fly off: he had almost come to a halt, his dragon having turned around. Iliana steered Bheithir right at him, shouting commands as she felt the dragon's fire burn in her own soul, as if she was the one about to incinerate Antonin.

The white dragon swerved away, a great wave of wind from its wings scattering Bheithir's flames. Antonin's voice came weakly over the air as he shouted. “So! Not such a coward a-dragonback, are you, girl?!”

She gave the reins a solid yank, and Bheithir quickly rolled in mid-air, dodging a blast of fire from the white dragon. They soared through the air as one, and with a triumphant cry from both rider and dragon, they managed to score a hit, Bheithir's front claw managing to give the other dragon a nasty cut as he tried to bite Antonin himself. He was punished for his attempt by the other dragon's much greater strength, clawed badly and thrown off.

Elise clutched Iliana tightly as they manoeuvred through mid-air. She'd almost forgotten she was there too. “Illy, focus on Michael!”

“When I could kill that scumbag instead?!” Iliana snapped back, wishing she'd shut up and let her focus on directing Bheithir.

“You're going to get us killed, not him!”

Iliana gritted her teeth, but bit back a reply as she directed Bheithir into a complex manouevre featuring a rolling dodge turning into firebreathing that she'd read about. She was almost thrown off, and still missed Antonin by a hair.

“Illy, we can't beat him in a straight fight!” Elise shouted. “He's got an adult leader and years of experience on us!”

As much as Iliana wanted to take Antonin down, have Bheithir kill him, she had to concede the logic of that. Taking a deep breath, she tried to quieten her rage. She shouted for Bheithir to attack, swerving straight for Antonin, then suddenly pressed her feet into his neck, sending him into a rolling dive even as Antonin's dragon dodged their original attack. Bheithir grabbed Michael from the other's claws, holding his rider in his front paws as Iliana sent them back down with a pang of regret. For one moment, it looked like Antonin would pursue them, would try to get his hostage back. To both her relief and regret, however, he flew off instead.

“Good job!” Elise said, giving her a hug from behind.

Iliana smiled weakly. “Thanks. For holding me back. I guess it's better we got him back, even if Antonin escapes.”

They descended to the ground and were intercepted by several Oturian dragons. Iliana clearly made the arm gesture for surrender, letting them guide Bheithir to a landing. As soon as they were landed, Krum came rushing towards them. “Stand down! They're with us, you fools!”

“Sorry, Krum,” said the swarthy dragonrider who had captured them, gesturing for the others to stand down.

Bheithir had been very busy cuddling Michael and licking his face, but finally let go of him, letting the dragonrider hobble towards Krum. “Are you alright, lad?”

“I think so,” he said, still catching his breath. “Thanks to Iliana and- Mmpf!” His words were cut off by Elise, who'd jumped off Bheithir's back, ran towards him, swept him off his feet, and kissed him passionately.

Iliana found her stomach turning a bit and cleared her throat, looking away from the continuing kiss. “So, um, Krum, finding reinforcements, er, went well?”

“Yes,” Krum said, trying to straighten his highly confused face. “Yes, it did, lass. As you can see. Remus is making sure the whole world will know by tomorrow.”

“Good.” Dear heavens, how long is a kiss supposed to last? “There's no way the Karkhosovs will get out of this one.”

“Let's hope so. Well, it's about time!” Krum snapped as Elise and Michael finally broke off their kiss. The two of them giggled apologetically. “Come on, they'll need our help sorting this place out.”

10: Dragonrider

Chapter Ten: Dragonrider

A spark of excitement shot up Iliana's spine as she awoke, finding Elise cuddling her like a teddy bear. Two years after she'd first sneaked into Elise's room for an impromptu sleep-over because she was feeling lonely, she still had that brief moment of nervous excitement every time. She had felt strangely lonely, unable to fall asleep even though she tried to ignore it. As she recalled Elise herself had told her to acknowledge her emotions, so she had swallowed her pride and walked over to her quarters, taking Syderet along. To her great relief, Elise hadn't judged her; she had welcomed her in with delight, teasingly complimenting her pyjamas. Sleeping next to Elise felt safe, warm, and cozy, the perfect cure to her melancholy. It had been the one good thing about their imprisonment in Golgosk, and the double beds in their own quarters made it far more comfortable. Ever since that night, they regularly slept in each other's quarters and beds. Barely a week would pass without one of them knocking on the other's door late in the evening.

Iliana gently shook Elise awake. “Time to wake up, it's a big day.”

Elise groaned.

Iliana tousled her azure blue hair, which she'd helped dye herself. “I know you're awake. Come on.”

“Just a little longer...”

“I'll have Syderet throw you into an icy mountain lake, you know.”

Elise opened her eyes, chuckling. “You wouldn't.”

“I would,” Iliana replied.

“Why so early, Illy? We've got time to sleep more... It's not for another two hours...”

Elise tried to turn over, but Iliana grabbed her. “Oh, no, you don't! You're not showing up to the ceremony unwashed and in your nightie.”

Elise smiled. “And why not?”

Iliana tapped her nose. “Because I'm going to make sure you're looking neat.”

“They're not gonna give me a higher rank just because I dressed fancy, you know.”

“Not the point, and you know it. Now, you don't have to do much. I'll comb your hair for you.”

“I don't wanna,” Elise mumbled, her face petulant.

Iliana rolled her eyes. “Stop it, you know you like it.”

“The combing itself, I guess. But I don't like combed hair.”

“But you look so much neater with your hair combed.”

“Bleeeh,” Elise said.

“Well, tough. You need to look smart for this. I'll also choose your outfit today.”

Elise giggled. “I'm not going to wear your clothes.”

Iliana gave her a small push. “And I'm not going to let you wear my clothes. I'm just going to make sure you wear something elegant and nice. From your own wardrobe. C'mon, get up.”

“Bleh,” Elise said, sticking out her tongue. “You hear that, Zapa? I think I'll make your hunt easy today and just feed you Iliana.”

Zapa, lying in the shallow dragonpit with Syderet, chirped in confusion.

“Come over here and open wide: I'll push her right in and go back to sleep.”

Zapa looked at her dumbfounded, but Syderet trotted over, kneeling down next to the bed with his crest raised eagerly and his maw opened wide enough to fit Iliana in.

Iliana and Elise burst into laughter. “You fluffy traitor!” Iliana guffawed.

“At least he has good taste,” Elise said, squirming with laughter. “One fancy dinner coming right up, Syderet.”

She gave a small push and Iliana played along, letting herself fall towards Syderet's maw. The dragon caught her by sticking out his grey tongue, pushing her back and nuzzling her with his snout. She cuddled his head, almost the size of an entire human now that he was fully grown. “Well done, my clever dragon. Now, if you're hungry, why don't you and Zapa go for a quick hunt instead of eating me? But be back soon, alright? We'll need you for the ceremony.”

“Syderet, nooo,” Elise said, still chuckling, as the blue dragon pushed a large button with his snout, setting the system of gears that opened the roof to let him and Zapa out into motion. “Don't leave me with her...”

Iliana looked upon her with amusement as she rolled about in the bed. “Come on, enough trying to feed me to my own dragon. We really do need to get ready.”

It took a bit of work, but Iliana had Elise looking properly prepared for the ceremony in time to take breakfast, wearing her elegant red dress and with her hair combed properly. Naturally, Iliana looked even more splendid herself in her favourite coat and the deep red cravat she often wore to add a little alternative colour to her blue outfit. Elise helped herself to a generous heap of bacon and eggs, as usual. Lana joined them with a plate of her own, sitting down next to Elise and nervously avoiding Iliana's eye. The poor girl could be so nervous these days. “Er, hi.”

“Hey, cutie!” Elise said happily, throwing an arm around her bare shoulders, pulling her close, and giving her a kiss on the cheek before looking her up and down appreciatively. “Nice dress! It's looking very good on you.”

Lana glanced at Iliana as she giggled. “Thank you. Er so do you. Both of you. I like your hair, did you comb it?”

Iliana stuck out her tongue as Elise groaned. “Illy did.”

“Oh,” Lana said, smiling a little nervously at her. “You did a good job, Iliana.”

“Thank you,” Iliana said.

Elise rolled her eyes. “Prepare for a life of tyranny under captain Cavotta, Lana. We're all going to have to comb our hair every single day.”

Iliana smirked. They already knew all three of them were assigned to Santo d'Oso's wing, so her becoming their superior wasn't unlikely at all. Although the rank of captain was not very realistic. “Maybe.”

Elise clasped Lana tightly. “And we'll all have to take turns ironing her coats.”

“And kneel to provide a footstool to climb onto Syderet,” Iliana added.

“And she'll punish us most cruelly if we ever step out of line.”

“You especially,” Iliana said.

Lana looked between them a little bewildered and nervously laughed along. Iliana supposed their friendly flirting had to seem a little weird to her, as Elise's lover. But they simply enjoyed teasing each other a bit. Besides, if you hung around Elise long enough, it quickly became second nature.

“Anyway,” Iliana said, “you're in no danger of Captain Cavotta. Lieutenant Cavotta, however...”

“Stop it already,” Elise said, “being modest doesn't fit you. You know they're going to make you a commander.”

Iliana smiled. “Only the best and brightest riding leaders get promoted that high right off the bat.”

“Yeah, so you.”

Iliana nodded and grinned.

Elise made a face and drew Lana closer to her. “Ooh, look at that smirk. That's the face of an evil genius, and she knows it. She knows she's evil, and she knows she's a genius.”

Iliana just replied with another smirk.

“I've seen that face on stage a lot,” Elise said, “and it's usually followed by maniacal laughter and taking a helpless maiden hostage. Or taking me hostage, for that matter. Ooh, did I tell you about the auditions last Thursday?”

Iliana focussed on her breakfast as the conversation drifted away from her. Lana got bolder and less nervous about her presence, replying more to Elise's flirting as she talked about the auditions. She was only a little fazed when Elise casually talked about Magnus and described with clear admiration how well his audition had gone. Lana kept up bravely as Elise made it seem usual to be flirting with two girls at once while swooning over a guy. Lana clearly understood Elise as little as Iliana did. Of course, Iliana knew Elise didn't get Elise sometimes. She had first realised that when she'd known her for about a year.

Elise had knocked on her door in the evening, while Iliana was reading. She had actually felt rather annoyed and interrupted: after a whole day of dealing with dragon puberty and the accompanying ability to breathe fire, which meant all kinds of new problems, she had really looked forward to just spending the evening with a book. If Elise felt like a sleep-over, she usually didn't show up until around bedtime. She knew Iliana liked some peace and quiet in the evening. So she had seriously considered refusing when Elise asked if she could come in, but reluctantly agreed anyway.

As Elise had walked over and sat on the couch next to her, Iliana had first noticed something unusual: her walk was oddly 'flat', without a spring in her step or much hip-swinging. There was worry in her eyes too. “How are you?” Iliana asked.

“Oh, good!” Elise said, smiling widely. “Um, how are you?”

Iliana raised an eyebrow. “You know, fine. A bit tired after all the dragon hormones and flames...”

“Oof, tell me about it. Who'd have thought Zapa could be such a hellraiser?” Elise said, chuckling softly.

“Yeah,” Iliana said.

Silence fell. Iliana was about to suggest Elise go do something else, when the green-haired girl suddenly asked: “Do you think I hurt people?”

Iliana frowned and looked at her. “...Other than Vladimir?”

Elise grinned. “If he ever bothers you again, he'll really regret it.” Her grin faded. “But yeah, I mean other than Vladimir. Look, Illy, I... Well, I was having fun hanging out with Lana just now. You know, not really doing much, we were just sort of goofing around, chatting, kissing a bit.”

“Er, right,” Iliana said.

“Well, what I didn't realise was, Michael was there too and he could see us. I mean, not that it should have mattered, right? I mean, he knows. But well, I noticed him from the corner of my eye, looking so sad and betrayed... I quickly broke away from Lana, and went to talk to him, and he said it was fine, and of course it should be! We talked about this before, he knew it and- ugh. My point is, he wasn't fine, I could see and hear it. So I sort of panicked and thought I'd kiss him to make clear I was in love with him too, and that only made things worse because that didn't help and then Lana was also hurt and sort of trying to pass it off as if it was nothing, and I just...” She sighed loudly and rested her head on Iliana's shoulder. “I dunno. I just had to come to you. Hear your thoughts.”

“Er,” Iliana said. “Well, this is really not my area of expertise.”

“I know...” Elise said. “I just... needed to be with someone I haven't hurt I guess... Someone nice and calming...”

“Ah,” Iliana said, stiffly throwing an arm around Elise. She knew she had no business giving advice, and was probably wrong, but couldn't resist. “Well, er, maybe the fact that you've got two... well...”

“Lovers?” Elise asked.

“Yeah.”

“Actually, might be three soon,” Elise said, with a momentary twinkle in her eyes. “Pretty sure Magnus fancies me, and he's pretty hot too. Mmm, he's so tall and proud, and he dresses really well...”

“Right,” Iliana said, wondering if Magnus was the long-haired guy from Oturia's theatre she'd seen Elise chat with a few times, “two or three lovers, then. Er, you know most people tend to stop at one, right?”

“Of course,” Elise said, “but you've got to follow your heart, that's the only way to be happy. I know I'd just get lonely and bored always sleeping with the same person, that my heart is big enough for more. I'm not going to pretend I'd be happy with just one lover, and I made that really clear to both of them beforehand. I explained early on that I wouldn't consider a relationship binding or permanent for either of us. You know, we just have some fun together, doesn't matter who else we're seeing too. I always explain that early, because I know some people don't want that kind of relationship, and I don't want to have someone like that go into one with me with the wrong expectations. We can just part company as friends right away if they don't like it. I don't want anyone to get hurt, Illy...” Elise sighed. “And now I've gone and hurt them anyway.”

“Are you sure they understood when you explained?” Iliana asked.

“Yeah!” Elise said. “Well, I thought so... I mean, they even said so, both of them, but their eyes didn't agree with their words... I just... Ugh! Illy, why does this have to be so difficult?”

Iliana raised an eyebrow. “You're asking me?”

“Right, not your area of expertise. But really, I did everything I could to make sure we could all just have fun without anyone getting hurt or tied up. It's not like I didn't tell them until they were already super into me either. I mean, I told them both way before I first shagged them.”

Iliana blushed deeply and fretted with her cravat.

“Lana even before I ever kissed her, and Michael only a little afterward. I mean, I never gave either of them the impression they'd be the only one for me. Lana even knew Michael and I were sleeping together before she and I became a thing.”

“I guess knowing it and seeing it before your eyes are two different things. Emotionally, I mean, as silly as that is.”

Elise sank further against her. Iliana gently ruffled her hair, hoping to make her feel better. “I guess so. I should've thought of it, really, and kept from getting too affectionate in public... I just hope they can forgive me...”

“Of course they can,” Iliana said, before even wondering why she said it.

Elise looked up at her, beaming. “You really think so?”

“Well, like you said, they knew you were, um, also with someone else. You'd made it clear. There's no blame on you, and they must see that, even if their emotions are hard to sort out at first. Just give them some time to get over their first reaction and think about it rationally.”

Elise nestled a bit closer against her. “What if they don't forgive me?”

“I... think they would. I mean, they're in love with you, right? I don't know what that's like myself, but I know I've forgiven you for plenty of things. And I'm just your friend and, um, not very good at forgiving.”

Elise sighed, quite relieved. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

Elise nestled against her. “Your advice. Calming me down. Ruffling my hair like that. Your friendship. Whatever did I do to deserve you?”

Iliana blushed under the compliments, holding Elise. “Well, um... Just don't take my advice at face value, probably. I know nothing about love, after all. It's just not something I can feel.”

“Of course you can,” Elise said, a bit startled. “Don't say things like that, Illy. As fun as sex is, it's only a small part of love. I know you can love, because I see it every time you look at Syderet. Every time you look at m- your friends.”

This topic made Iliana a little uncomfortable, so she decided to switch the subject. “You know, your hair colour is starting to fade, and your roots have all gone blonde. Aren't you going to dye it again?”

Elise sighed happily, still nestled against Iliana, covering herself with one of her azure coattails like a blanket. “I'm letting it fade a bit so I can dye it into a different colour more easily.”

“To what?”

Elise smiled. “Blue. Lovely, calming, pretty blue.”

Iliana was called out of her reminiscence as they headed out; the ceremony was about to start. As they met up with their dragons on the peak outside, Iliana quickly smoothed out a few of Syderet's feathers. She, and several other groups of new dragonriders, all their dragons roughly the same age, lined up in the bowl on the peak, the riders standing before their dragons. There were about forty of them, all from clutches hatched around Syderet's. Older dragons approached, most of them leaders whose riders were the captains of Oturia; others were the teachers of the various groups of recruits. Marco's short stature stood out among them. Quayrat and Remus descended impressively in their middle.

“Recruits!” he began his speech. “This is the last time I'll address you that way, because after today you will be full dragonriders! You've trained and learnt for two and a half years. Your dragons have grown immensely, and so have you. They are almost mature now, while you have grown into true dragonriders. With that in mind... Hernan Asturias and Perdido, come forward.”

A big, blonde, muscly man and his grey dragon, one of only three leaders in this group, confidently strutted forwards. Hernan had made Contact about a month before Iliana. He had little intelligence or style, but was a friendly enough sort. Hardly a fit for a leader, she would have thought, but Hernan was generally well-liked. As he approached Remus, so did Manuel de la Miño, his new captain. Hernan knelt before the two of them.

“Hernan Asturias,” Remus spoke. “You've raised Perdido well. You have a good heart, always looking out for others and protecting those weaker than you. Your knowledge could stand to improve, but you are a true dragonrider. I offer you a rank of Lieutenant in Captain de la Miño's wing.”

“I accept your gracious offer,” Hernan spoke, without a trace of the disappointment Iliana would have felt at receiving only an ordinary rank – for a leader. Of course, Hernan had flunked half his tests, so he was unlikely to have expected to be made commander.

Remus tapped him on one shoulder with his sword, then Manuel de la Miño did the same to the other shoulder. Hernan rose, then briefly wobbled on his feet, almost falling over before he caught himself. He apologised, and Manuel de la Miño spoke: “Welcome to my wing, Lieutenant!” He handed Hernan the sword he had just used. His dragon echoed the welcome with a roar, which all other dragons echoed in turn in a deafening cascade of triumph. Hernan and his dragon returned to the group to watch the next graduation.

“Elise Berlioz and Zapatilla, come forward.”

Elise let out a squeak of surprise and grabbed Iliana's hand. Iliana squeezed it briefly for courage, and Elise let go, walking to Remus, who was now joined by Santo d'Oso, a thin, bearded man in his thirties. She knelt before them.

“Elise Berlioz,” Remus spoke. “You've raised Zapatilla well. You have an excellent intuition and make friends rapidly.”

Vladimir Karkhosov whispered something to the guy next to him, and the both of them sniggered nastily. Iliana could've thrown them off the peak's edge with fury.

“You look out for the good of others and always keep their good in mind. You can be quite the hellion, and you've given your teachers quite a lot of work, but the mightiest of dragons are the hardest to tame. On a personal note, I must say I enjoyed your portrayal of miss Rosefiore in our own theatre's production of Murder in Montfort.”

Surprised, Elise actually spoke up. “Thank you!” she said, beaming. Iliana smirked. Her own heart had pounded loudly with pride for her friend last month when she had come on stage, even if it had been a fairly small role with only a few lines and some backing vocals.

Remus smiled. “I offer you a rank of Sergeant in Captain d'Oso's wing.”

“I accept your fantastic offer!” Elise chirped. Iliana again felt that familiar, wonderful pride inside her. Elise had made the highest rank those who didn't ride leaders ever started in. Iliana could of course claim some of the credit herself: she had spent countless hours helping Elise study, summarising lectures, and even on occasion helped her cheat.

Elise stood up after the swords were tapped on her shoulders. “Welcome to my wing, Sergeant!” Santo d'Oso said warmly as he handed the sword over. Elise just about skipped back to her place as the dragons roared their welcome.

“Sergeant!” she whispered excitedly at Iliana and Lana. “Me!”

Iliana grinned and was about to reply when Remus' next call interrupted her. “Iliana Cavotta and Syderet, come forward.”

Iliana and Elise exchanged a quick grin as Iliana walked forward, keeping her excitement down and resisting the urge to break into a sprint or start fiddling with her cravat. All eyes were on her, but she felt more excited than nervous. This was what she'd been working towards the past two and a half years. Everyone could see her, but they'd only see her utter triumph. She knelt before Remus and Santo.

“Iliana Cavotta,” Remus said. “When I first met you, you had already made friends with Quayrat. It was a sign of things to come. You get along very well with dragons, and your knowledge about them, and many other things a dragonrider should know, is very extensive. You are the most skilled recruit in your age group. You even have some experience with diplomacy and stealth operations. I offer you a rank of Sergeant in Captain d'Oso's wing.”

“What?” Iliana shot to her feet. Sergeant?! She rode a leader! Even Hernan had made Lieutenant, and she had more intelligence in her pinky than him! “I do not accept your meagre and insulting offer!” she snapped, utterly betrayed by her own dragonlord. “How dare you?!”

Remus and Santo ignored her; the traditional words were just for show. They briefly tapped their swords on her shoulders. “Welcome to my wing, Junior Lieutenant,” Santo said coldly, holding out the sword.

Without another word, Iliana climbed on Syderet's back in a tense silence only broken by Vladimir Karkhosov's cackles and subsequently the sound of Elise's fist hitting his face. She lifted off with a furious glower at Remus as he called for Zan Chou to come forward.

–

Syderet flew through the thin air over the mountains. On other days, he might have been delighted to be flying with No Wings, his own powerful wingbeats keeping them both afloat high above the ground. Sometimes they went flying just for fun, just to be up here together, and No Wings wouldn't pull on his horns with the bridles for hours, and they would just enjoy flying together. This was not like that. The other dragons had insulted them, told them they weren't worthy. He did not understand why. The winged dragons liked Syderet, and the wingless ones often told No Wings she was smart and skilful, so why had they suddenly turned on them? It made no sense.

No Wings had him land on a steep outcropping of rock and ice poking out of the top of a mountain. She jumped off his back, kicked a big lump of snow, and roared with fury, the sound echoing all about. Syderet responded with a roar of his own, but more to let her know he agreed with her than because he was angry too. He was mainly confused. No Wings paced around on the top, rambling the weird sounds the wingless made. Syderet could usually understand less than half of it, but that was enough to understand everything. He didn't even need to listen now. He could feel her rage burning brighter than any dragon's fire in her heart, see it blaze in her eyes. He didn't need to hear a word she said as she paced to understand they were plans for revenge, ideas to make the dragons that had denied them their rightful place pay.

Syderet walked forward and grabbed No Wings with his front paws, gently lifting her up and holding her to him very softly – she was a small and fragile creature, after all. He let her know how sad he was too, but also how much he loved her, talking right to her mind. She didn't like him to talk to her or other wingless dragons that way, but he knew she needed it now. She stiffened for a moment, still caught in her rage, then her shoulders began to shake as she cried into his feathers. Syderet wrapped his wings around her tiny form. He just didn't understand. It had been something the wingless dragons had decided. His own winged kind greatly liked both of them, and a lot of them looked up to them. Quayrat, the great leader of all dragons of the mountain, had even apologised to Syderet when his friend had made his proclamation.

No Wings' sobs slowly ceased as he held her, her blue feathers only a little darker than his. When she calmed down, she asked Syderet to put her down. He did so and brought his head close to hers. She was barely larger than his head in the first place, but that didn't matter; she was still his best friend and the greatest dragon of them all, and he said that directly to her mind. She ran her hands through his feathers, making him feel very happy and peaceful. She smiled at him, her face still featherless apart from a wide crest after all this time – but then, she hadn't grown either. She thanked him for his care and said she'd make sure everything would be alright. That was good; if No Wings said that, he was sure everything would be well.

–

Iliana glowered as the door opened and Remus entered his quarters, jumping a little as he found her sitting behind his desk, in his chair. “Iliana. I'm glad to see you've come to talk.”

Iliana frowned at him.

Remus raised his eyebrows and took a seat. “You really shouldn't have burst out like that, you know.”

Iliana kept glowering. “How could you?”

“The decision was made for your own good, believe it or not.”

“Okay,” Iliana said. “I don't believe it. What would've been for my own – and Syderet's – good would be to get the rank we deserve.”

“And what happens then?” Remus asked, infuriatingly calm. “We remind everyone Syderet is a leader, that's what. All the prejudices you've faced would completely resurface. Plenty of people both in Oturia and outside don't think you should've been allowed to keep Syderet.”

“So?” Iliana snapped. “Ridiculous, rusted necrocrats and fragile little boys who can't handle a woman doing better than them. Why should I give a flying toss about their feelings?”

“Some of them would be under your command. They would be unlikely to obey you.”

“And we have a word for that, it's called insubordination. Punish those who would disobey their commander, don't punish me for being a woman!”

“It's not like that, Iliana.”

“Isn't it?” Iliana snapped. “Isn't it?! It looks an awful lot like it to me! I ride a leader, like it or not, and I deserve to be treated as such. Syderet will do best in a situation where he can use his skills to lead other dragons. And you said it yourself: I'm the best recruit in our age group! You promoted Hernan higher than me, for crying out loud, and he's a mindless, muscular meathead! You know perfectly well that if I were a man, you'd promote me to Commander right away.”

“But you're not,” Remus said.

“That's right,” Iliana snapped, “and I thought that didn't matter to you. I thought you were on my side, but I can see how mistaken I was. You tolerated me, that's all. You simply made the problem go away by pretending to yourself Syderet was a large fighter instead of a leader. And now I've been promoted as if he's one. I see now why Oturia still doesn't mix male and female candidates in hatchings, even though I've suggested it to Marco several times. You want to make sure I remain the only 'anomaly'.”

“Iliana,” Remus said, “I have to keep the interests of a great many people in mind. A female commander, especially such a young one, would raise too many hairs. You would've regretted it if I'd made you one.”

“Who knows?” Iliana said through clenched teeth. “You never even gave me the choice! You could've asked me beforehand what I'd prefer, but no.”

“We didn't ask any of your fellow recruits what rank they liked to be in. We worked out what the most appropriate rank for them was. In your case, it was a more complex problem than usual, and we did give you a lower rank than we would have given most riders of leaders. However, Marco noted your intelligence and knowledge many a time. I'm sure you'll be able to rise through the ranks quickly.”

“Quickly?” Iliana snapped. “I'll be lucky to make commander by the time I'm sixty with men like you in charge! Why do you make this so difficult? Lord Alejandro simply mixed up the genders at hatchings in Segovia, and that's that. They've got several women riding leaders.”

“Alejandro Ortega has come a long way playing the fool and annoying people. But rest assured, he always chooses those he annoys beforehand with reason. He doesn't simply step on people's toes willy-nilly. I'm not Alejandro, and Oturia is not Segovia.”

“No, you're not. You're only interested in maintaining the status quo. You're as much of a necrocrat as Igor Karkhosov, and you're a coward.”

Remus rose. “I've been lenient on you, Iliana, but I will no longer tolerate this insubordination.”

“My apologies, my lord.”

“I understand this is hard for you, but it's the way it is. Dismissed.”

–

Iliana realised she'd been reading the same sentence three times over already. Who knew old law books were this boring? The fact that she was still just about trembling with rage didn't help much either. She sat in one of the comfy, high-backed chairs of the library, facing the window to the peak outside. If she could just find some rule that said leaders had to be in a position of actual leadership, or one that said male and female riders had to be treated the same way... It was blatantly unfair and ridiculous, but if she couldn't find some stupid rule that said it was, Remus's decision would definitely stand. Asking the other dragonlords to make a stand would be useless, as she would never even get close to the two-thirds majority she'd need to overturn his decision. Iliana would be the lowest-ranked rider of a leader there had ever been, and all because she was a woman – no, because bone-headed necrocrats couldn't handle that she was a woman. She'd thought she was past that kind of nonsense now and she was still reading the same bloody sentence!

When a vacancy arises, a new dragonlord shall be selected by popular vote from all dragonriders in an order, while the dragons shall give approval to his dragon. Any rider of a leader, except recruits, may put himself forward for candidacy, provided-

The large, comfy chair stirred and creaked, as if someone had walked into it. The dragons shall give approval to his dragon. Any blablablabla...

Curly blue hair descended into Iliana's field of vision from above, followed by a freckly, upside down face. “'Ello, miss Grumpypants.”

“Hi, Elise,” Iliana said with a hopeless sigh, unable to even laugh at Elise's antics as she hung over the high back of her chair.

A hand came down from above and gently touched her face. “I'm so sorry about what happened.”

“Yeah,” Iliana said. “Me too.”

“I thought for sure you'd make commander.”

Iliana grimaced. “We'd just forgotten people were idiots, I guess. I talked to Remus.”

“Oh?” Elise asked, sliding down a bit. “I take it he wasn't much help?”

Iliana groaned. “Not even a little. You know, I really thought I was done with this. Really thought it was settled, and that I'd just be taken for who I am, not what I am.”

Elise sighed. “I know.”

“I aced every test we ever had! And that wasn't easy, I studied very hard for it. And this is my reward?”

Elise slid down a little further and gave her an upside-down hug. “It's horribly unfair. You deserve so much better.”

Iliana grimaced. “I guess Sergeant is good for a non-leader at least. Congrats.”

“Thanks,” Elise said, sliding down yet further.

“I guess... I probably sound pretty conceited, getting so angry at becoming a Sergeant, don't I?”

“No, no, no, Illy, of course you don't,” Elise said. “You've got every right to expect more. You deserve a higher rank, everyone knows it. Any guy riding Syderet would be a rank above you, and if that guy had your test scores and skills too, he'd be two ranks higher. You should be a commander.”

“Thanks,” Iliana said. “It's not even the benefits of the rank or the fact Syderet won't get to live up to his potential that make me so angry... It's that they don't think I'm worthy just because I'm a girl.”

“It's horribly unfair.” Elise said. She slid down a little further. “I'm going to climb down now. Can you make sure I don't fall?”

Iliana nodded, holding Elise as she began to slide down forward, this time on purpose. She folded the book against herself so Elise wouldn't land on it.

“Wouldn't it be handier if you just hopped off the back?” she asked.

Elise caught herself on the broad armrest with her hands, still upside-down. “Can't, I climbed over too far. And I can't exactly keep hanging on either, because the dress you selected clearly wasn't meant for it. I think I've been showing off my butt to the rest of the library.”

As Elise climbed completely over and curled up on the chair, Iliana quickly fixed her skirt to protect what little modesty she had. “I like your knickers,” she said with a giggle.

“Thanks,” Elise said as she sat down sideways on Iliana's lap, her legs over one armrest while she planted her elbows in the other. She wiggled her shoulders a bit, smiling. “This is kind of nice, isn't it?”

Iliana rolled her eyes as she returned Elise's smile. She had expected her to get off her lap, but since she appeared to have no intention of doing so, half-lying quite comfortably, Iliana put her book's spine down on her belly and continued to read. It was actually at a much more comfortable height now. “Thanks for the book pillow.”

“You're welcome,” Elise said. “What are you reading?”

Iliana sighed. “Quite possibly the least interesting book ever printed. It details laws and rules related to draconic orders throughout.”

“You're bored of a book?” Elise gasped.

“You're in the library?” Iliana gasped.

They stuck out their tongues at each other. “Anyway,” Iliana said, “I'm trying to find some kind of lawful excuse why Remus can't do this.”

“Found anything?”

“Yeah, dusty tomes written in Legalese are fantastic soporifics. And I don't think any of this will actually help...” she flipped a page, staring hazily at yet another one.

“Are you sure?”

“No, I'm not sure, or I would find something better to do than page through this thing!” Iliana snapped. “...I'm sorry.”

Elise gave her a kiss on the cheek. “It's alright. Would you like some time alone to read?”

Iliana sighed. “No, I don't think it'd help much. I can't focus. And it's ludicrous I have to, anyway, when there's the blatantly obvious fact that Syderet is a leader, I'm brilliant, and me being a woman changes nothing about either of those things.”

“It's not fair,” Elise said.

“It's a blatant insult,” Iliana said. “Not just to me, but to all women. Could you get off my lap, by the way?”

Elise pouted. “But this is so cozy.”

“It's also quite heavy.” As Elise got up, Iliana said: “I guess I could ask for a transfer to Segovia or Obsidiani. It wouldn't get me a higher rank immediately, but I'd stand more chance to get promoted. But it'd mean just taking the problem off Remus's hands, letting him get away with it. I really hate that idea.”

Elise wagged a finger thoughtfully. “You know, you made a good point about it being an insult to all women, Illy. I know I feel pretty insulted, even aside from you being my friend. If you can't get a high rank riding a leader, what chance do I stand of getting promoted in the long run? Am I ever going to get above Sergeant? I think we could really get people riled up if we made them wonder that.”

Iliana beamed. “You think so?”

Elise nodded vigorously. “Yeah! I think most women, and a lot of men in Oturia could very well be on our side if we just made a lot of noise!”

Iliana grinned. “And then it would be a lot less trouble for Remus to just give me my rightful rank.”

“Exactly!” Elise said, pumping her fist.

–

“Iliana,” said a deep voice behind her. It was Marco. At other times, Iliana would've been glad to have a chat with her tiny former teacher, but today her joy to see him was immediately pushed away by suspicion. Teachers were consulted when it came to assigning ranks. Marco had been there. Why hadn't he made sure she was treated fairly? Had he agreed with Remus?

“Marco,” she said coldly, appraising him to try and gauge his involvement.

“Santo d'Oso wants to talk to you. And so do I.”

Iliana glared down her nose at him. “Do you?”

“Yes. Would you walk with me?”

“Fine,” she said, following him.

“How are you?” he asked kindly, worry in his dark eyes.

“Oh,” Iliana said, a bit ashamed for her suspicions. “I'm... well, could be worse.”

Marco smiled encouragingly. “I'm glad you understand that.”

Iliana frowned. “Could be better too. A lot better. It should've been better.”

Marco sighed. “I know.”

“Then why wasn't it?!” Iliana suddenly snapped. “And don't give me Remus's excuses! Why did you let him get away with it in the first place?”

“I did what I could,” Marco said. “Believe me, I'm not happy my star pupil is the lowest-ranked rider of a leader we've ever had. I wish I could've done more for you.”

Iliana sighed. “I'm sure you did all you could. I guess you were just overruled by Remus.”

“He did his best too.”

“Nonsense!” Iliana snapped. “If he had, it wouldn't have happened. He's the Dragonlord. If he really wanted to make me commander, or even just lieutenant, he could just do it.”

Marco smiled. “If only. Leadership isn't just about driving your own will through, even if you could, you know. I sincerely hope you'll get the chance to learn that in practice. There were too many people opposed to giving you a high rank, and they would all have been very disgruntled with Remus.”

“Easier to just make the wrong choice,” Iliana grumbled.

Marco touched her cuff encouragingly, and she pulled her arm away. “Yes, I do think it was. Some things shouldn't be decided by a majority. For what it's worth, Santo is a good man, and he was on your side. You should have ample opportunity to advance under him, and I don't think he will allow anyone to treat you poorly for being a woman.”

“Good thing I introduced myself by insulting him and walking out on the ceremony, then...” Iliana said.

“That,” Marco said, wagging a finger, “is your own fault. I've told you before, young lady, you should keep your temper in check.”

Iliana clenched her jaw. “How was I supposed to respond to an insult like that?”

“Did you consider forcing a smile, gracefully accepting it, and later discussing it in private?”

“No,” Iliana said sharply.

“And I guess you're not planning to apologise for your outburst either?”

“Good guess.”

Marco sighed. “Santo is not your enemy, Iliana. You could make things a lot easier for yourself by asking for his forgiveness.”

“That's alright,” Iliana said, “I enjoy a good challenge.”

“Your pride will get you into a lot of trouble some day.”

They had reached the dining hall, where Santo was chatting with some men over dinner. He dismissed them as he saw Marco and Iliana approach. “Thank you, Marco. Iliana, take a seat.”

Iliana sat down opposite Santo. He was tall, in his early thirties, and had a long face with heavy eyebrows and a small beard. Iliana met his appraising gaze head-on.

“Iliana, I think you and I should have a word,” he said. “My name is Santo d'Oso.”

“Yes, I know,” Iliana said. “I'm Iliana Cavotta.”

“I thought it important we talked properly,” Santo said, “since I'm your captain now and you walked out on the ceremony.”

“It wasn't a reaction to you, sir,” Iliana said.

“I know,” Santo said. “I wish you hadn't done that anyway.”

“What did you expect me to do?!” Iliana snapped.

Santo sighed. “What I expected you to do was show good grace and acceptance to the rest of Oturia, and vent your anger in private. Then, if you really are as good as Marco claims, I could promote you in a year or so, telling everyone how much better it suits your skills.”

“Oh,” Iliana said. “I see.”

“Yes,” Santo said sharply. “Now not only do I wonder if Marco didn't oversell you, but if I were to try and promote you quickly, I imagine the response is going to be 'what, you're indulging the girl who thought she was too good to be a Sergeant?'”

“I am too good to be a Sergeant. And more importantly, so is Syderet.”

Santo frowned. “That's not the issue. If it was up to me, you'd be Lieutenant already. It's a disgrace that a leader should be forced to do the work of a lower dragon, even if he did make Contact with a girl. He deserves to be in his natural position, despite his choice of rider.”

Iliana scowled at his implication that Syderet had made a mistake in choosing her. She knew, however, that she couldn't afford to lose Santo as an ally by getting angry at him.

“The question is: can you actually perform like a rider of a leader, and if so, how soon can I promote you without losing face?”

Can you actually perform like a rider of a leader? Iliana idly wondered if Santo asked that question to men who rode leaders as well, or just assumed they could. She forced something akin to a smile onto her face. At least he would help her further, even if he was an idiot about it. “I see. Thank you.”

“So,” Santo said, placing his hands on the table, “I want to see you give 110%, understood? I can only help you if you actually do your best. You owe it to your dragon to try and be as good as a normal rider.”

Iliana's toes curled in her boots with fury, but she managed to keep smiling. Or showing her teeth anyway. “Believe me, I'll do better than any rider.”

“We'll see about that. We start practice tomorrow at 10.”