Avian (The Dragonrider Chronicles) (3 page)

I woke up the next morning feeling stiff. It was still cold outside, but I was warm where I lay, snuggled up beside Mavrik under the old horse blanket. I wasn’t eager to get up and face the day, or the winter weather outside.

It was easy to feel hopeless. It was easy to look at my situation and want to give up. I could just go live with my best friend Felix for the interlude, like he’d wanted. He was the son of a rich duke, so I would have plenty to eat, a nice warm bed, and lots of time to train if I went to stay with him. The only reason I’d bothered coming back here was to see Katty, and now that was completely ruined.

Then it hit me.

It hit me so suddenly, I glanced at Mavrik to make sure that he hadn’t put that thought in my mind, but he was still asleep. I’d spent too much of my life feeling sorry for myself. I wasn’t going to make anyone proud moping around. I was done taking the easy road, and sitting back wishing things would get better. I hadn’t just spent a year in training to be a dragonrider to let something like this defeat me. This was an opportunity to show everyone else that I wasn’t helpless, that I could fend for myself, and I intended to seize it. For me, nothing was ever going to be easy. The only thing I had control of was how I handled it.

I got up, brushed the straw off my clothes, and started pushing the heavy barn door open to let the morning light stream in. Usually winter days in Mithangol were overcast and bleak, but today the sun was shining through the thick cloud cover. It sparkled over the freshly fallen snow, and a blast of cold wind cut me right to the bone.

Behind me, Mavrik growled sleepily as the morning sun filtered in. He squinted, snorted, and rolled over to face away from the light. Apparently, he wasn’t ready to get up yet. It had been hard enough to pack that much dragon into this small barn to begin with, so I decided I would let him sleep. There wasn’t much he could do for me today, anyway.

“I’m going to get things cleaned up,” I told him as I tied my cloak under my chin. “Don’t eat anyone, okay? And don’t burn down anything, either. We’re keeping a low profile.”

He just flicked the end of his long tail and started snoring again.

The house didn’t look any less bleak or empty even with the sun shining through the windows. I decided to go in and see exactly what I had to work with before I started cleaning. Ulric and Serah hadn’t left me much, though. I opened all the doors and windows to let the cold wind blow through. It made it freezing inside, but I had to get rid of the musty smell.

I hadn’t spent all that much time inside the house itself before, so it was weird to be standing in it alone. Serah had never liked me touching her things, and she had forbidden me to be inside without her supervision. It wasn’t a big house, and it wasn’t fancy at all. The floors were bare wood, and the walls were covered in old plaster that was chipping in places. Downstairs there was only a small parlor with a fireplace, a kitchen with a wood stove, and a single washroom with a big copper basin for bathing.

There was basically nothing left in all the kitchen cabinets except a few old breadcrumbs and some old empty jars. There were a few split logs stacked up beside the stove, but I had a feeling I was going to have to learn to cook for myself now. I had never cooked anything before in my life. I didn’t know how to make bread, or anything like that. This wasn’t going to be easy. I knew I had a lot of learning to do.

Up the narrow staircase were the three bedrooms. They were all about the same size, and I had never slept in any of them. I was surprised to find that they left all the bed frames and old, lumpy mattresses behind. There was a fireplace in the room that used to belong to Ulric and Serah. It also had the biggest bed and a window that overlooked the front drive. I decided I would take that room for myself, since this was going to be my house now.

The second room had been Emry and Lin’s. There were two much smaller beds set on either side of the space, with a window in the middle of the far wall. The rest of the furniture was gone. The only trace of my horrible twin sisters left was a hole in one of the walls leftover from when Emry had thrown a fit, accused me of stealing a pair of earrings from her, and hurled a jewelry box at me. She’d missed me, thankfully, but managed to put a big dent in the plaster. Naturally, that had invited Ulric’s wrath down on both of us—well, mostly on me.

Roland’s room had the only other decent sized bed. Since they were expecting him to be living here from now on, it still had a lot of his stuff left in it. His bed still had all the sheets and pillows on it, and his armoire still had his clothes inside. They were all bound to be way too big for me, but at least now I had the option of something to wear other than my academy uniforms.

I had never been inside his room before, and it was weird to be standing there with his belongings. He had sounded very sure in his letter that he wasn’t coming back, though. I guess none of this stuff mattered enough to him to come back for it.

At the end of Roland’s bed was a large wooden trunk with iron clasps and hinges. The old padlock on the front wouldn’t budge, no matter how I picked at it. Considering there was no one here anymore to beat me senseless if I broke into Roland’s private property, I didn’t waste any time using my hunting knife to pry the hinges off the back of the trunk and open it.

Inside, buried under an old blanket, was a collection of things I knew must have been special to him—things he hadn’t wanted anyone else to touch. Lying on top was an old scimitar that looked like it must be some kind of heirloom. But as far as I knew, our father had never been a soldier, so I didn’t know where Roland would have gotten a blade like that. I didn’t remember ever seeing him carry it around.

I picked it up, feeling how light it was in my hand. The more I looked at it, the more I realized what a beautiful weapon it truly was. It had ivory and silver inlaid into the hilt with designs that looked like the head of a stag. The curved blade needed to be sharpened and polished, but it was slender and had a beautiful shape. It looked like it had probably been a very expensive blade whenever it was originally forged. Even the scabbard was covered with a sheet of hammered bronze that had the same engraving of a stag’s head on it.

I’d never seen such an ornate weapon before. All the weapons we used at the academy for training were blunted or made out of wood so we didn’t accidentally kill each other. None of them looked like this. None of them had been crafted so carefully, with such attention to detail and beauty.

I grasped the leather of the grip and took it out of the sheath, holding it firmly. I had practiced with lots of different weapons at the academy in the past year. None of them suited me well. I fumbled clumsily with the swords that were too heavy or too big, struggled with bows that I didn’t have the strength to draw, and made all the instructors look at me like I was a dead man walking.

But this scimitar was different. I could feel it right away. Something about the way it fit into my hand, even if it was still way too big, just seemed right. It felt comfortable in my palm, and I liked the way the light danced over the unique curved shape of the blade.

I put the scimitar back into the sheath, and set it aside to keep going through the trunk. Roland had been keeping his savings from working odd jobs around the city in a leather purse. I counted out twenty gold pieces, ten silver, and fifteen coppers. I had never seen that much money in my life. As wrong as I knew it was to take his life’s savings without asking, I needed to buy food. I would have to pay him back later. Eventually, though probably not anytime soon, I would start getting paid for my work as a dragonrider.

The only other item buried in the trunk was a leather-bound book. I untied the strings that held it closed, and discovered it was a journal. Immediately, I closed it and put it back into the trunk without reading a single word. Maybe I’d borrow his savings, and keep the scimitar, but I drew the line at that. I wasn’t going to rifle through his personal thoughts. It felt wrong to even hold the thing.

Picking up the purse of coins and the scimitar, I shut the trunk again and looked around the room. I couldn’t shake that eerie feeling I got from standing in there. Roland and I had never been close. We’d only exchanged a handful of words in three years. We were basically strangers, but he must have found some reason to reach out to me. He was the last person in the world I had expected that from. It was a humbling surprise to know that he even thought about me.

I turned around to leave the room with my new treasures in my hand, and almost smacked right into Katty. She was standing in the doorway watching me. She hadn’t made a single sound. It scared me to death.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, doubling over to recollect my nerves. For a moment, I’d thought she was Ulric or Serah about to catch me going through Roland’s stuff.

She had her arms crossed, and her golden curls bounced around her face when she shrugged. “Momma sent some food for you. I told you she would last night.” Her tone was sharp, and I noticed she was scowling a little. I was about to ask why, but she beat me to it. “I know you saw me with Bren last night. Momma said you went out to the shop, so I know you saw. Don’t try to deny it. Tell me the truth, is that why you’re acting so weird?”

That caught me off guard. I stared up at her, since she was now several inches taller, and fumbled for words. “I’m not acting weird.”

“Yes, you are. I’ve seen you hurt, sad, and upset because of your family plenty of times. But you’ve never been this way toward me.” She took a demanding step in my direction. “You’ve never not wanted me around. So why don’t you go ahead ask me what I know you want to ask?”

I frowned hard. “There’s nothing I want to ask.”

She matched my firm look with an even angrier one of her own. “Fine. Be stubborn, then. I’ll tell you, anyway. My father took Bren on as an apprentice at the same time I started. We’ve been working together every day since then.”

“Great,” I growled back through clenched teeth. I was starting to feel that furious heat rising up in my chest again. “I’m sure he’s a swell guy, too.”

“He is!” She snapped. “And it just so happens that I like him!”

“Good!” I yelled as I stormed past her. I was so angry my hands were shaking. I wanted to get away from her. I stomped down the stairs to the kitchen and started heading for the front door. I’d almost made it there when she grabbed me by the back of the shirt and yanked me to a halt.

“Jaevid, talk to me about this!” She started shouting, too. “I know you’re jealous. But can you blame me? He’s going to be a blacksmith, too. He’ll be able to help me take over my father’s business. He comes from a good family. And he’s—”

“—not a scrawny little halfbreed,” I finished for her. I was losing my ability to keep my anger under control, so she got a full-forced glare when I turned back to face her.

Her expression went totally blank, and I saw her blue eyes go wide. Anyone who didn’t know her well would think she was just surprised, but I’d been around Katty long enough to pick out those faint traces of guilt in her expression. I’d hit the nail on the head.

Even if I wasn’t puny-looking, I doubted she would ever see me as more than a friend because I was a halfbreed. She was willing to be seen with me, to associate with me, but only as a friend. She had drawn the line at that, but had failed to let me know about that little detail. I’d never be anything more to her, and I was just now figuring that out.

I took a few seconds to breathe. I was trying to keep my temper in check as best I could before I said anything else I’d probably regret later. It didn’t work.

“Well, I’m glad we’ve finally cleared that up. Now I know where I stand. Just get out, Katty.” I growled at her again.

Her eyes went steely, and she recoiled a little. I guess she was waiting for me to reconsider or apologize because she kept standing there, staring at me.

I couldn’t stand it. I hated knowing that every second we had spent together was basically a fraud. I already had to fight to earn any acceptance and respect from the other riders at Blybrig; I wasn’t about to do the same thing for her attention. If she wanted Bren so badly, then she could have him.

I left out the front door without saying anything else. I already felt bad for letting my true feelings show. I hated that I knew how she really felt about me now. I felt like a fool for ever thinking I had a chance with her.

Katty didn’t try to talk to me again. I caught a glimpse of her storming toward her house as I ducked into Ulric’s workshop. I’d known her so well before, or at least that’s what I thought, but now she looked like a stranger. It felt like the Katty I used to know was gone… and I’d never even gotten to say goodbye.

I didn’t know what else to do with my frustration, so I went to work. There was a lot left to do, anyway. Ulric’s shop was basically empty. There wasn’t anything left downstairs except for some scraps of leather and a pair of wooden sawhorses. It still smelled like the oils and hides he’d worked with, and I couldn’t shake a sense of tension in the air as though his presence had left an invisible stain on the place.

My stomach was churning as I climbed the ladder up to the loftroom where I had lived like a stowaway for three long years. All the old crates and boxes being stored up there were still sitting around, right where they had been before. My cot was there, too, with the same old quilts piled on it and a candle burned down to a nub. It was drafty and cold because of the cracks in the walls, and as I stood there staring at my old room, I started to think about my mother. So many nights I had lain awake in that bed, missing her. Now, she felt further away than ever. My memories of her were beginning to fade. I couldn’t remember her smell anymore, or the sound of her laugh. It chilled me to the bone.

There were rusted old garden tools, rakes and shovels, and old scraps of wood leaned up against the walls in the loftroom. Long-forgotten pieces of furniture were pushed into corners and covered with sheets. One by one, I started going through the storage crates. They were stuffed with moth-eaten clothes, a set of cast-iron pots and pans that looked like they were several generations old, and odds and ends that were probably worthless to anyone else. But these were my treasures. They were the only things in the world, except for the clothes on my back, that actually belonged to me.