A Fifth Daughter [Book 1: The Dragon Rider]

Accepting Day has arrived and I feel like the world’s most sour person. Mom had to basically shove breakfast down my throat while I glared out the window. All through breakfast Mom kept giving me strange looks; like I’m a bomb and my timer is counting down faster than she can think to say anything. Although, I’m not a bomb (in the terms of blowing up into oblivion), I do only have thirty minutes until I’m supposed to be meeting with Alex Oxford.

And I still don’t know what to do about my Choice.

Two days went down the drain with no decision.

The good part about all this? Ryler looks just as sick as I feel. Nerves have a way of changing even the bravest, most stubborn people.

“Okay you two.” Mom about slaps the table but thinks better of it as her hand curls away. “Get out of the house. Alex and Jacmerl will be here soon to talk to both of you.”

Jacmerl would be Fantasy’s Battlemage Headkeeper. If Dragonmage trains the air police, then Battlemage teaches the ground military. Unlike the Dragonmage – which is made up of two schools in different locations; Legend in Folklore and Lore in Myth – Battlemage is an all-around type deal located in Southern Myth. There might only be one school grounds, but it can hold up to hundreds of thousands of students from all Realms. Vampires are the more typical race to enter the school, but humans have just as high population percentage.

As Ryler and I leave the dining room and filter out to the backyard the noise of a truck coming down the gravel driveway turns our heads.

“They’re here.” Ryler says, wincing slightly.

Well, at least one of them is. “And we’d just escaped.” I mutter back.

Ryler chuckles nervously. “Maybe we can prolong for a little longer.” Mom bangs on the dining room window and gestures for us to come back in. He sighs. “Or not.”

“She should make up her mind. Does she want us inside or out?”

Ryler shakes his head and I follow him back inside. We should have expected this. You always get a taste of freedom when escaping the pot, that is, until you find out there’s a fire burning below.

We retake our seats while everyone else filters out, leaving only Mom. Chase answers the door when someone knocks, but I don’t try to see who it is. I’m way too distracted and in too much destress to do that.

Apparently it’s Battlemage’s Headkeeper Jacmerl Dale driving the truck. She’s a burly Dwarf. Red hair is spiked off her head giving her more height than her 4‘4” allows. Blazing amber eyes stare at us, ping-ponging between Ryler and I. She wears the usual garb of Dwarves; thick fur tunic tucked in a wide belt and leather pants wrapped in bushy fur boots. Silver earrings dangle and gold bracelets jingle. She doesn’t smile, although she doesn’t glare either, just a neutral face that could crack stone into ash and make the strongest enemy crumble. It doesn’t help that her nose is huge and divides her face like a fat mountain. I shiver. Ryler gulps. Mom smiles hesitantly.

“Which of these ducks here are signing for Battlemage?” Her thick western accent throws me off. Most Dwarves are from the South, where the Pétris Ravine runs with precious stones like our bodies run with blood, not the West where forests control the land.

“Nice to see you too, Jacmerl.”

The dwarf huffs. “I’m late, Allied, so I can’t bother with formalities. Now which one do I get to pick up tomorrow?”

Mom stands and motions for Ryler to follow. “This is Ryler.”

Jacmerl eyes him up and down either appraising or disapproving, I don’t know. “Have your siblings given you any training, or forewarning about my school? I don’t need you backing out after a week.”

Ryler nods and clears his throat. “The only training they gave me was riding the Pegasi, but I am ready and willing to learn more.”

I hate it when he talks all proper and tall. The ages of ‘Talk-all-Proper’ are over. It makes me want to scoff aloud and punch him. This is the twenty-first century; we talk like hippies compared to back then. Lucky him, Mom’s in the room and there’s a table between us.

“Good. Good.” Her eyes narrow when she looks away and suddenly that harsh, but neutral amber gaze is on me. “Who’s that one?”

“This is my youngest. She’s been given the Choice of Dragonmage.”

I don’t stand up, even when Mom obviously motions for me to. There’s no point, I’d just sit down a second later and then have to stand up all-over again when Alex gets here. I’ll let Mom wish I’d respect Jacmerl, and I’ll let the Dwarf think I’m stuck-up.

I huff and cross my arms, glaring at Ryler for still standing. I wish he’d sit. He shoots me a look and I almost laugh because he wishes he was sitting down too. But he’s not nearly as bold as I am. If Mom doesn’t say anything to me – and even if she did – I’m going to stay sitting.

“Well…” Jacmerl pushes her thumbs into her belt. “Alex is going to have fun with you.”

Probably.

The house shudders as something big hits the ground outside. My first thought is that a whale must have dropped from the sky. Of course, that’s pretty impossible. I also thought that maybe the barn fell over, but it seems like that would sound like planks clattering. Maybe it’s an earthquake come to swallow me whole. That’d be nice.

Someone knocks on the door. Chase answers and Alex Oxford walks in, smiling.

“Speaking of the Rider,” Jacmerl mutters.

I blink.

A dragon landed outside.

I guess I was right when I said whale.

Mom pinches my arm, it hurts, but I still don’t want to stand up. Alex doesn’t seem to want to either as he gestures toward the tail end of the table.

“Mind if I sit?” He asks.

Mom seems slightly at a loss for words as Alex takes silence for an answer and sits. I don’t know what’s with her today. She’s acting like we’re all disrespecting some rule no one knows about. I frown at her. What is her deal?

Jacmerl watches Alex for a moment more and then sits to his right, right next to where Ryler has finally sat down.

Awkward doesn’t describe this situation. We’re all so tense and the air so thick my breath seems to fog around me.

Alex is watching me and I meet his gaze head on while Jacmerl and Mom strike up a conversation about something or another. I really have no idea what they’re saying.

Alex leans forward. A chair separates us, but I hear him just fine. “What do you think of riding dragons?”

“Not something I’ve ever wanted on my résumé.” I answer.

He grins slightly. “And why’s that.”

“Gravity and I have problems.”

“What about defending your world, what do you think about that?”

“I can defend my country just fine with my words and patriotic heart.” A bunch of sarcasm and a sweet smile are all Alex needs to hear and see. Because all of that was a lie. I don’t really care much for politics. As long as the earth beneath my feet stays strong, I’ll be fine with whatever, and whoever, the Council decides to go to war with next.

“Can I dare you to change your mind?”

“Daring evolves betting.” I point out. “I don’t bet.”

His grey eyes spark with the my attitude, as if amused. “What about a challenge? You come and see how it feels in Legend and after two weeks, I’ll bring you back home personally.”

Two weeks, miles up in the air with a taste of both freedom and fear.

Sounds like a horrible idea.

I ponder a moment longer. Do I really want to do this? “I can try that.” Apparently I do.

Alex smiles and taps the table. “Wonderful.” He stands. “The Vixen will be here tomorrow morning bright and early with Eaton Knight. Classes start on Tuesday.” He bows his head toward Mom and then he’s gone. The front door shutting the only thing that tells me he walked out and didn’t turn into a puff of smoke.

Well, I guess my Choice was made for me.

Watch out, Dragonmage. I might puke on you.

Whack. Tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap.

The rock flies across the concrete pad that the boys and I used to fail at playing basketball on and doesn’t stop until it hits the grass. I kick another one.

Whack.

This one only rolls a short distance and I’m able to kick it again. I watch it skip and hop before stopping again. Catching up to it, the process starts again until it hits the grass and I find another one to take its place.

Skipping rocks isn’t something I do often, but I got bored and the house got stuffy. I’m not claustrophobic, but that feeling of the air being sucked from the room, causing me to inhale vigorously, really shut down my sense of depth. I tried my room, but even that felt too stifling. So, outside became the best option. The fresh air cleared my head; well, it might have cleared it just a little too much, because now I’m hurting my toe every time I kick a stone down the driveway.

I’d turned to skipping rocks because the realization that tomorrow I’ll be joining the Dragonmage made me want to scream and perhaps punch something. Kicking rocks and stubbing my toes seemed like the better option.

The front door opens and even before she steps into my peripheral I know who it is.

“Aren’t you proud?” I say, scuffing my shoe along the ground. “I made my choice.”

“Did you really though?”

Telling her I’m basically being dared to try it out might not be a good idea.

“I was able to make it. That’s all that should matter.”

Mom sighs. “One day your strong head is going to get you in trouble.”

It already has.

“Well,” Mom turns back toward the house. “If you’re confident in your decision then pack up tonight and be ready to leave bright and early tomorrow.”

Mom leaves. I slump to the ground and fiddle with the grass. A cow moans in the barn and the Pegasi snort in the paddock. I watch them and their glorious wings. They drape over their shoulders and just barely touch the ground when they walk or bend their long necks down to eat. Their golden hooves wink in the dying afternoon light.

Rash is Tempest’s grey dapple mare. She is the kinder one of the two, but smart enough to be in charge of their little herd. Dell looks like a fawn with his light brown coat and speckled rear – he is not at all gentle or cute. If he’s curious about anything it’s how many ways he can kill you. Only Chase is allowed to ride him after my accident, but even then it looks like a struggle. Battle Raiders have the same type of bond to their steeds as Riders do their dragons, only with the slight difference that Pegasi can’t communicate telepathically like dragons can.

Rash glances up and watches me with glossy brown eyes. With a slight nicker she approaches the gate and waits, still watching.

I frown. But then Tempest appears above me and it’s all explained. Rash is watching her rider, not me.

Tempest smiles lovingly at her steed. “Do you want to ride her?”

It takes a moment for me to realize she’s talking to me, a moment later to realize what she said, and half a second to jump to my feel and take a step back.

“Not really.”

Tempest sighs, although it could be a scoff. “Come on, Oke. You’re going to be riding dragons and you can’t even go near a Pegasus.” I shrug and she sighs again, this time an actual sigh. “I’ll bring her out so you don’t have to deal with Dell.”

“Temp, I don’t –”

“At least be around her. Get used to her. She’s small compared to the beasts you’ll be riding but she’ll at least give you some confidence.”

She pauses long enough for me to think about it. Slowly, I nod. She’s right. I’m going to be around dragons and I can’t even think of touching a horse, let alone a Pegasus. Tempest smiles, pleased, and walks to the gate. There is no tack for a Pegasus, Rash just obediently follows Tempest out to me.

My nerves don’t kick in until Tempest steps to my side and the mare sniffs me curiously. Rash nickers again and her nose nudges my cheek. She pulls back and nods her head, shaking out her white mane. Turning her side to me, showing me her grey wings, she waits patiently. It’s what all Pegasi are supposed to do when accepting a rider. It shows respect. Not something everyone gets from a horse.

I glance at Tempest. Seventy percent of me doesn’t want to ride her, the other thirty says I need to get over my fear.

“I’m not going to force you.” Tempest says. Rash arches her neck and pinches my shirt sleeve to tug me closer. Tempest laughs quietly. “Rash might though.”

I nod. “Okay.” I turn to Rash, as if to make sure she understands what I say next, “But I don’t want to fly.”

Tempest smiles brightly. “Don’t worry, Rash will take care of you.”

That’s exactly what I’m worried about.

With a boost, Tempest gets me behind Rash’s wings. My thighs are already protesting as I try to tighten the nerves out of them and squeeze Rash’s ribs. She snorts but doesn’t do anything to fix the problem.

“Just walk her around me in a wide circle.” Tempest instructs, pointing her finger around the yard.

I nod, but don’t have to urge Rash before she’s already following Tempest’s command. Rash has a very easy walk, only a slight jolt. I feel like I’m gliding. Until she suddenly picks up the pace to an elongated walk, where there’s more movement in me than her. My heels dig into her barrel, but she doesn’t slow down. A moment later and Rash is in a trot. Now we’re really flowing and I’m slightly freaking out. The ground has become a blur I struggle to avoid looking at.

“Um… Tempest?”

Rash slows to the elongated walk again and keeps at it for a while. My thighs relax as my body becomes one with the movements and transitions. I surprise myself with a smile and rub my fingers along Rash’s withers. She’s warm in the dying light and my fingers find comfort in her mane.

But with a snap of her fingers Rash turn to Tempest and stops before her. The mare lowers her head in a slight bow and Tempest smirks.

“How was that?” She asks, running a hand over Rash’s forehead and to the soft spot between her ears. Rash nickers appreactively.

“I could get used to it… eventually.” I say. I touch the arch of Rash’s wings. The feathers are soft and delicate beneath my fingers.

Tempests nods, smiling. “That’s good. I’m glad you enjoyed it. You think you could fly?”

Any joy I felt drops to my toes. I shake my head. Dismounting comes naturally – you just fall – but I am surprised at how graceful it feels, like I’ve done it my whole life when in reality it’s been about nine years.

“Thank you for the ride, but no flying.” And because I can see the disappointment in her face I add, “Not yet.” I walk around her and back to the house.

I loved it. Riding again. But I can’t fly. Not yet. And probably not any time soon.

Tomorrow you’ll have to.

The annoying voice in my head is right. I will be flying to Legend tomorrow.

Oh, crap.