Chapter 7 #2
My quiet observations shattered. Duke Covington’s son, with his perfectly slicked crop of golden hair, strode toward me.
In his glittering eyes was a malice that rivaled what I’d seen in his father’s eyes.
“Merlon Fairfax’s niece, isn’t it?” he said, his smile betraying what he really thought of that lie. “Or should I call you shovel girl?”
An abrupt sinking feeling inside me made me miss my chance to respond as he paraded by, clearly not interested in my reaction at all. His attention was already focused on the courtyard ahead. I hurried forward, but then slowed, not wanting to appear like I was walking in with him.
As soon as he stepped into the sunshine, a shift occurred. Every face angled toward him, like the passing of a royal through his courts. He nodded at a group of girls as he strolled by, and they giggled and jostled against each other like frenzied chickens.
I rolled my eyes and slipped quietly into the courtyard, staying close to the outside wall, where there was a bit of shade to better hide my gaudy yellow dress. I tried to remember why I was here. To topple their way of life. How badly could it go?
I only had to survive the petty dramas of the upper class for one year, even though right now it sounded like an eternity.
Another boy, this one with dark hair and angular features, strode into the courtyard, his arms lifting at his sides as he walked up to the duke’s son.
“Covington!” called the dark-haired boy, clapping his friend on the back.
My stomach tightened and fists formed at my sides.
Everyone in Treston knew who Duke Covington’s sons were.
Rushland and his brother, Reginald, were the richest men under twenty-five years old in the entire kingdom.
It was impossible not to hear their names whispered on the streets or see them printed in the papers, though Reginald’s name was usually beside headlines about his philanthropic donations or other good deeds, whereas Rushland’s was often smeared across the gossip column.
A sudden bang startled me so much that I jumped, my elbow knocking into the stone wall behind me.
I recovered, glancing around to see who had noticed as I rubbed my arm.
A man holding a long wooden staff, elaborately carved to look like a dragon curled around a spire, stepped from the shadows of the school’s arched main entrance into the bright sun of the courtyard.
It was the headmaster, Casper Vaughan, wearing long robes that brushed his ankles.
At his final step, he tapped the staff once more on the stone, but I was ready this time and I barely flinched. Every face was watching him now.
“Riders! We have here today a class of hatchlings who think themselves ready.”
Snorts and chuckles drifted across the courtyard from the older students. I huffed at their sense of superiority. They refer to us as hatchlings? Really?
“Shall we show them what it takes to be a rider?”
“Sir, we shall!” the students shouted in unison.
“Riders, why do we exist?”
“To preserve the past, to protect the future.” The words, echoing in the chorus of voices, brought an unexpected chill down my bare arms. I’d heard the school was steeped in tradition, in rituals, and yet I couldn’t help but swell with pride that I, too, would be taking part in the fabled magic of Cardan Lott.
I might not be here to preserve the past—more like shatter it—but I was here to protect the future of every single bottomsider who’d ever dreamed of bonding with a dragon.
The futures of these wealthy kids were already perfect, carved out by a well-worn river they were born to sail.
I, however, would have to dredge my own channel for a chance to sail those waters.
“First years,” bellowed the headmaster, “are you ready for your first test?”
“What?” hissed a girl standing a step away.
She was shorter than me, with vibrantly warm skin and glossy black hair adorned with a small circlet, as if she were some sort of royalty.
She wore a strange dress that wrapped around her body, exposing her midsection, but she wore it like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“I’m guessing you didn’t know?” I said, anxious that I would be forced to answer some question about an obscure text I should have read.
She shook her head. “But you did?”
“Sort of.” I frowned thinking about Fairfax’s words to me. “My sponsor mentioned an entrance test, but he didn’t tell me anything else about it.” I shrugged. I’d missed what the headmaster had been saying.
From the head of the courtyard, the robed headmaster called, “Welcome, dragon riders and those recently bonded. You are stepping into the oldest and most honored tradition among our people. To be a rider of Cardan Lott, you must prove yourself strong enough. Here, we value bravery, honor, excellence.” The words were etched in stone above the school’s entrance.
Then one student stepped forward and shouted, “Only the brave.”
Another stepped forward and said, “Only the honorable.”
A third stepped forward and said, “Only the excellent.”
I huffed.
The girl next to me whispered, “A little arrogant, don’t you think?”
But at that moment, the headmaster smashed his staff against the stone once more while shouting, “Riders, to your houses.”
The older students marched in precise movements toward four doors set into the walls of the courtyard.
Only now did I notice the pattern in the paving stones that pointed at each of the four doors, with a fifth, the tallest, pointing at the school’s entrance.
A five-pointed sunburst. I bounced on the balls of my feet, unsure what was next.
“I’m Vanya,” said the girl next to me.
“Ari.” I didn’t know why I used my nickname, but it just came out.
“Pleased to meet you, Ari. I hope to see you on the other…”
But she was cut off by a shrieking sound from the sky above.
A shadow cut across the courtyard, and a girl screamed. Shading my eyes from the sun, I glanced up, jaw falling open.
A sleek black dragon darted into the corner opposite from me, landing before the door that had shut behind several older students.
For a moment, I thought it was Myth, until another dragon, then another and another landed before three other doors.
The four regal Cevnals stood in the courtyard, perfectly trained to remain still, chests lifted, wings folded, eyes penetrating all who met their gazes.
My attention stole quickly to the Cevnal to my right.
Regal and larger than the other three, this one had silver scales and a simple pair of small horns that curled away from her narrow face, marking her as the only female in the group.
The male Cevnals, with their longer horns, ranged in color from black to blue to a mottled tan.
The headmaster lifted his staff skyward.
“If you wish to enroll at Cardan Lott College, you need only enter the school. Anyone who attempts to enter through the door behind me will be sent home. Otherwise, you may choose any door. Choose your door wisely, for the dragons will not let you into the wrong house.”
“Which door will you choose?” I asked Vanya, realizing how ill-equipped I was to be here. To choose a door. To find my place here.
She shrugged.
Another student, lanky and blond, spun toward us.
“House Sapphire supposedly is for the serious students. Top scorers in every subject come from that house. Emerald is for the servant-hearted, artistic type, but I hear it’s more of the nature-loving ones who end up there.
The true dragon lovers.” She leaned in, eyes wide.
“I hear there’s moss in their rooms instead of carpet.
And Diamond is for socialites. Ruby is ruthless.
Every year, someone disappears from their dormitory at some point in the year.
Only go for Ruby if you have thick skin.
” She smiled and strode toward the door to House Sapphire.
Students were starting to move, to take hesitant steps toward the doors they’d chosen. A few trembled violently as they edged toward the center of the courtyard.
“Who would want to join Ruby…?”
I trailed off as Rushland Covington sauntered over to the red door.
“He would,” I grumbled, but my words were swallowed by the click of claws on stone as a girl cautiously stepped up to the green dragon to my left. She cowered as the dragon lifted his head and half-opened his wings.
Bad move.
Instantly, the dragon’s head darted out and knocked the girl to the ground, not violently, but not gently.
The rider clutching the saddle patted the dragon as he lifted again to his full height.
The girl on the ground burst into tears, scooting backward before clumsily getting to her feet.
Another potential student raced forward, only to also get knocked down.
All around the courtyard, people were falling to the stones. The dragons weren’t hurting anyone, unless you counted bruised hips or knees or egos. I no longer could see Covington in the courtyard. He must have made it inside.
So far, no one else had made it past a dragon.
People were crying, others were shouting and cheering on their friends, and by now faces had appeared in the upper-story windows as the older students leaned out to point and taunt the hatchlings, laughing as each one hit the stones.
The mirth with which they watched the new students fall was alarming, but they’d been here too, and they’d each gotten past the dragons.
These dragons and their riders appeared deadly serious about keeping people out of the school, and no one here could possibly move faster than a well-trained racing dragon.
This wasn’t a test of speed, but of will.
A cruel game. This was a test of how many times you would get up after getting knocked down.
I wondered how long the humiliation would last before the game was up.
Determined, I stepped forward, aiming for the blue door.
Fairfax had urged me to succeed, and a house full of bookworms sounded like it might actually be enjoyable.
A welcome change from Bennett’s constant teasing over my love of books.
I weaved between fleeing students and those picking themselves up off the pavers as I crossed the courtyard.
I smiled at one girl peeling herself off the ground.
I extended my hand to her. She frowned at it and stood, brushing her dress smooth.
I shrugged and marched toward the female Cevnal.
If I was correct, this game wasn’t meant to be won—it was meant to be endured.
I braced myself for the hit, bending my knees so I’d fall gently.
The dragon lowered her face toward me. I clicked my tongue at her instinctively, snapping at the same time with my right hand, hoping to draw her snout to my right side so I could more easily direct my fall.
The dragons were well-trained, after all, and while I didn’t know which commands or signals they’d learned, I figured I might as well try what I’d seen the trainers do at the Covingtons’ lair.
I bowed my head as I tensed, expecting to be knocked to the ground.
The dragon’s snout stopped at my chest, her great nostrils pushing waves of hot air around me.
Her amethyst eyes glinted in the sunlight as I stared back at her.
She could snap me in half with one bite, and her tail could crush my bones.
If she wanted, she could knock me down with enough force to render me unconscious.
“Go ahead,” I said, nodding at her.
She snorted as she flicked her head sideways, and I flinched. But she didn’t hit me. When I opened my eyes, she was whirling on another student, pummeling him with her snout and sending him flying. He hit so hard I heard something crack.
“Nice one, Ilmara,” said the dragon’s rider, patting her steed.
Cheers rang out from the faces in the upper-story windows. The red door closed with a bang. Someone had made it inside.
My muscles tensed. This wasn’t just about getting knocked down until the headmaster called off the game. If there was a way around the dragons, I’d find it.
When I raced toward the blue door, determined this time to make it around Ilmara while she was distracted, a strange sensation washed over me, a heat that seemed to rise out of the stones themselves.
It passed quickly, but it slowed my steps.
I dismissed it as nerves and lunged for the door.
Ilmara’s tail connected with my stomach, slapping the air from my lungs and lifting me from the ground.
When she set me down, she half-slung me, half-pushed me with her strong tail toward the next door. The red door.
“One minute!” shouted the headmaster. “Anyone not inside in one minute will be sent home!” Cheers erupted from the upperclassmen. Another door slammed.
I turned and took one step forward, but in the same breath, a black dragon snout knocked me behind my knee, pitching me off-balance.
As my front leg buckled, I lifted my other foot and hooked the dragon’s neck.
He tossed his head and lifted his chin, nearly throwing me off, but I lurched forward and wrapped my arms around him.
I slid down his neck, bumping uncomfortably over the ridges along his spine, my grip slipping, until I collided with the dragon’s rider.
“Get off me!” shouted the boy, pushing at my back with strong hands.
I’d never been on a Cevnal before, and the feeling was intoxicating, despite the shoving from behind and the bucking from below. The dragon growled, dancing in a circle, his tail leveling everyone attempting to reach the red door.
“Thirty seconds!!” shouted the headmaster.
I had only a breath to make up my mind.
As the dragon spun, I jabbed my elbow backward, swung my leg over his neck, and dropped to the ground, right in front of the red door.
The voices overhead began to chant the final countdown. “Nine. Eight. Seven.”
I charged forward. “Three. Two.” The red door swung open, and I spilled inside.
“One.”