The Firedragon Page 2

  Still, at least he was distracting Mrs. Miller. Years had passed since Aurelia was under Mrs. Miller’s supervision, but the old nag still lectured her whenever she crossed her path – usually because of the messes she left behind after her training sessions. But she had better things to do than spend an hour sweeping up the spilled contents of the sand-filled practice dummies she’d demolished. Besides, in the real world, Defenders never had to deal with monster carcasses. That was what cleanup crews were for.

  Managing to evade Mrs. Miller’s gaze – she couldn’t afford to lose any more time – Aurelia slipped through a gap in the group of older Enchanters and sprinted toward the Scholar’s Library. Scholars were the children of the Enchanters, their library closed to the non-magical Cadets. That never stopped her, of course. She didn’t care about their super-secret magic books anyway. She just needed to find Connor, the one Scholar who wasn’t stuck up about his magic.

  Which was amazing, considering he was the son of Gold Triumvir Salvator, one of the nation’s three powerful rulers. She still wasn’t sure how she’d ended up buddies with him. She’d been a Secondstringer when they’d met – and an outcast at that. She hadn’t exactly learned to play well with others, having been brought up by merciless trainers. But whereas everyone else had gone out of their way to avoid her, Connor had done his best to reach out, and she’d eventually realized that he was one of those rare people who was every bit as nice as he seemed.

  Which all led to her overwhelming need to protect him, and right now, that meant warning him about what he’d face in the arena. Those spheres may have been fake monsters, but they were still dangerous. He was the only person in the world she truly considered a friend, and she didn’t want anything to happen to him.

  She zoomed around the corner and stopped just short of crashing into another batch of slow-moving adults. They were speaking in a language she didn’t recognize, and all held wands in their hands. She glared at them, frustrated at this new delay, then recognized two of them from the waiting room she’d sat in before her test with the Challenge judges.

  These were contestants from one of the other participating nations. And her competition.

  “Move it!” she exclaimed, shoving past them. “How do you expect to fight monsters if you’re so slow?” She didn’t care what they thought of her – they were just a bunch of strangers she’d defeat. Enchanters. Who had to think they were better than her. She couldn’t wait to see the shocked looks on their faces when she outdid them and their abracadabra. Oh, how she’d rub their arrogant noses in the fact that they got beat by a Norm!

  It occurred to her that Connor, an Enchanter boy, technically fell into the same category as those bigheaded jerks. But she’d never lump him in with them. She found it bizarre that he’d been nominated for the Challenge in the first place, since monster fighting wasn’t exactly his thing. Sure, he was way ahead of his schoolmates when it came to fancy magic, and she’d watched him vanquish enough practice dummies to know he’d be decent if he ever faced a real beast, but he’d never battled an actual, live supernatural creature before. Not even under the school’s controlled conditions.

  While Aurelia had whooped with joy when she’d been nominated for the Challenge, Connor’s face had turned white as ash. He’d later told her that his father had wanted one of his kids to represent him in the Challenge. And the Gold Triumvir had made a big deal out of announcing that he had a personal stake in the game. But why Connor, his youngest? Why not, instead, nominate one of his adult children – Connor’s half-brothers and sisters by a variety of stepmoms – who actually had experience? Connor hadn’t replied when Aurelia had asked that question.

  She saw the entrance to the library ahead and quickened her pace. The library’s two dark brown doors sat in an arched frame that nearly reached the high, vaulted ceiling, and Aurelia suddenly felt very short in comparison. She peered in, not wanting to run into any other Scholars if she could help it. She had no desire to regurgitate the Academy’s handbook as punishment for trespassing on the Scholars’ turf – again. And she couldn’t stand the hoity-toity way the Scholars always looked down at her, even when they knew she could knock them out with her bare hands if she wanted to.

  Seeing no one else around, though, she walked into the library and called, “Connor? You in here?”

  She was positive the answer to that question was yes. Connor spent half his life studying, and she never understood why. Oh, she studied too – studied monster anatomy and behavior. She had to know her enemies in order to hunt them. If she needed to, she could devote her attention to pages of dense facts for hours, since her life might one day depend on those details. But why someone would lock himself up with textbooks voluntarily, especially for the kinds of frou-frou topics Connor apparently enjoyed – like art history and sociology – was beyond her. He could be so serious sometimes. It was hard to believe he was only a year older than her.

  She darted toward the library’s tall, wooden bookshelves and rushed down the aisles one by one, wondering if Connor was browsing for some leather-bound pile of paper. She didn’t see anyone. Then, hearing a slight rustling behind her, she turned.

  A pig made of miniscule books – obviously put together by an enchantment – trotted toward her. A faint golden shimmer clung to the little red, blue, and brown covers, which glittered with tiny gilt letters, and the thin white pages rippled as the creature moved. Aurelia grinned, knowing that only Connor would have created such a thing. He’d told her earlier that day, when she asked him how she’d know where in the humongous library he’d be, that she’d figure out right away how to find him, and she’d guessed that he’d leave some kind of sign.

  The book-pig must have been it.

  She crossed her arms and regarded the enchanted creature. “Very cute, Connor,” she said. “C’mon, pig, hurry up and show me where he is!”

  The book-pig stopped, grunted at her, and trotted into the shelves. Knowing it would lead her to Connor, she darted after it.

  Within moments, they’d reached a classroom at the back of the library. It was a rectangular room with walls of gray stone and a wrought-iron lantern, suspended by magic near the ceiling and giving off a soft white light. In the center stood a square table with a gleaming stone top and thick wooden legs. The book-pig grunted and went to curl up in the corner, while Aurelia scanned the room with her eyes.

  Connor sat in one of the high-backed, intricately carved wooden chairs, reading a thick book full of complicated-looking diagrams. He tapped his golden-brown wand absentmindedly against the page he was reading, and his auburn hair fell onto his forehead, nearly reaching his eyes. Those pretty, dark blue peepers, the cherries on top of his classic good looks, made all the other girls swoon at the sight of him. But not Aurelia. The idea of anything romantic between Connor and her made her cringe. It’d be like dating her brother, or worse. And she couldn’t have, even if she’d wanted to. Relationships between Enchanters and Norms were illegal, and she’d seen her non-magical schoolmates get banished to the far corners of the Triumvirate for making goo-goo eyes at Scholars.

  So she crossed her arms and gave him a disapproving look, instead. “You really need a haircut.”

  He looked up at her with a slight smile. “Thanks,” he said sarcastically. “How’d your test with the Challenge judges go? Think you’ll qualify?”

  “Of course, silly. But before we talk about how awesome I did, I need to tell you something.” She started to describe what had happened during her test, but Connor held up a hand to stop her.

  “You can’t tell me this,” he said. “That’s cheating.”

  “Who cares? So, the first thing they asked me –”

  “Don’t.” He stood, his expression dead serious. “Cheating’s a crime. And they’ll do more than just disqualify you if they find out. Aurie, they’ll send you to jail.”

  Crap, didn’t think of that. She glanced back at the classroom’s open door, suddenly tense.

  “Don�
�t worry about me,” Connor said. “Despite what you think, I can actually handle myself in the arena.”

  “What if you can’t?” she demanded, her concern for him overtaking her nervousness. “I don’t wanna see my best friend get his face ripped off!”

  “And I don’t want to see mine get dragged to prison! So keep quiet, or we’ll both find ourselves in chains.”

  “They wouldn’t arrest you. Your dad would throw a fit!”

  “Yes, at me.” His expression darkened. “The Triumvirate’s supposed to be all about rule of law, and how he treats me is meant to prove that. If we were caught cheating, my punishment would be even harsher than yours. My father’s image is more important to him than I am.”

  She pursed her lips. The only thing worse than going to jail would be taking Connor down with her. “There’ll be healers waiting by the arena,” she said, more to reassure herself than him. “They’ll rush in if things get ugly. I’ll grab a bow and watch from the side, so I can shoot anything that gets too close to you.”

  “That would also be cheating.” He gave her an exasperated look. “You don’t have to treat me like I’m helpless.”

  “But you are.” She fidgeted, already picturing the nasty injuries he could get from those fangbeast-imitating spheres. “Being good with magic doesn’t make you a fighter, and let’s face it, if it weren’t for your dad, you’d never be considered Challenge material!”

  “You’re not helping.”

  She suddenly realized how horrible she must have sounded, and regretted her words. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to be a jerk.”

  “No worries.” He smiled. “I’m used to it by now.”

  She twisted her mouth, still feeling bad. “Why’re you so nice to me?”

  “Well, we’ve been friends for so long, I guess I’m stuck with you,” he replied jokingly.

  His words made her pause, the question she’d been asking herself since she met him popping into her head again. “Why’d you act all friendly back when I was a Secondstringer in the first place?”

  “Because you’re the only person I’ve ever met who doesn’t care that I’m the Gold Triumvir’s son,” he replied casually, avoiding her gaze.

  The same answer, every time. It made sense, but she’d always felt like there was something he wasn’t telling her. She just hadn’t figured out how to get it out of him yet.

  “Anyway,” he said, seeming eager to change the subject, “what do you think your chances are of actually winning the Challenge?”

  The idea of him facing those tests – especially since one of them was about fangbeasts – still bothered her, but what could she do? Between him getting hurt and both of them going to jail … at least the former wouldn’t ruin their lives. I’ll make sure those healers stay on their toes, she thought firmly. Her gaze fell on the complicated magic book he’d been reading, which, upon closer inspection, appeared to detail a powerful explosion spell. If he can pull off stuff like that, he’ll be all right. I should give him more credit.

  So she went with his change in topic, and replied, “Better than yours, for sure.” The thrill she’d felt when she’d stood before the judges crept back into her mind, and she started bouncing on her toes, bubbling about how all her training would finally amount to something more than just ganking the odd monster that wandered too close to the Capital, and how she’d get to become a Defender years ahead of time. “I’ll finally be free,” she continued breathlessly. “All my life, I’ve been told where to go and what to do, but once I’m a Defender, I’ll get to make my own choices.” Excitement churned in her chest at the thought, and she jumped up, unable to keep still. “When I win, it’ll … it’ll be the best day of my life. And beating all those Enchanters, I’ll show the whole world that you don’t need magic to –”

  “I wouldn’t talk like that, if I were you,” Connor interrupted, looking around with a nervous expression.

  She abruptly realized that she’d been so caught up in her dreams of victory, she hadn’t been paying any attention to his reactions. What had she missed? Why was he so nervous? “Why not?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

  “At the Academy, someone’s always listening.”

  “So?” She cocked her head, wondering what the big deal was. She wasn’t talking about cheating anymore. Sure, the Academy’s teachers and administrators used magic to watch the students, and saying the wrong thing – like claiming the government was corrupt – could land you in jail for life. But she hadn’t said anything bad; it was true – she didn’t need magic to be better than Enchanters at fighting monsters, and she couldn’t see how saying so could get her in trouble.

  But from the uneasy look in Connor’s eyes, she might as well have just claimed that the great Triumvirs used dark magic, or something similarly treasonous.

  Without answering, he raised his wand over his head and gave it a flick. The words of the spell he whispered were lost in the whoosh of the shimmering silver enchantment swirling around the classroom, but Aurelia recognized that particular bit of hocus pocus as a silencer spell – something Connor conjured whenever he wanted to say something in confidence. Any words spoken within the enchanted perimeter would be swallowed by the magic before they could reach the ears of anyone else.

  But why? There was only one reason for a silencer spell – he must have a secret to tell her. She leaned forward, dropping her voice a level. “What’s bugging you?” she whispered.

  He lowered his wand and met her gaze. “You were about to say you wanted to prove that Norms could be better than Enchanters, right?”

  She shrugged. “Yeah. I’ll beat you for sure,” she added with a joking smirk.

  “True.” He tried to return her smile, but the uneasy look remained in his eyes. “Still, you can’t go around boasting about it. The way you’re saying it, you’re threatening the status quo.”

  “Status-huh?” she asked, confused. Why’s he always throwing fancy words at me?

  “Status quo – ‘the way things are,’” he explained. “The Triumvirate’s caste system puts Enchanters above Norms. And it’s stood for nearly a century, grounded in the idea that those with magic are superior to those without. If you win the Challenge, and it’s just one contestant who happens to be a Norm beating others that happen to include Enchanters, then it’s not that big a deal. But if you make it sound like something bigger, something that could endanger the system –” He broke off, his eyes flying to the doorway, and shut his mouth firmly.

  Aurelia glanced back, startled, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. She turned back to her friend with a questioning look.

  He brought his gaze back to her, but his expression remained tense. “Thought I saw someone.”

  Whatever he was about to say, it had to be bad, and she waited for him to continue, more frightened than she wanted to admit.

  Finally he drew a breath. “The Triumvirate can’t have you jeopardizing the caste system that puts Enchanters above Norms. They’ll silence you, no matter how well you represent them in the Challenge. They’d rather lose their champion than risk their way of life.”

  They’ll silence me. She knew what he meant by that. They’d lock her up forever, and no one would see her again. It would be as if she’d never existed. But she hadn’t said anything bad about the Triumvirate, and she had no wish to. The Triumvirate made her mad because they treated Norms as inferior, but they weren’t evil. Monsters were evil – they killed people in horrible ways. The Triumvirate kept the monsters away. She wasn’t threatening the government; she just wanted them to change.

  Was that really enough to get her in trouble?

  Connor must have sensed the anger stirring within her, because he looked her straight in the eye, his expression taking on a kind of gravity she’d never seen in him before. “I mean it, Aurie. That kind of talk could be interpreted as treason. There are a lot of people around right now, and they’re all listening.”

  Treason? She swallowed hard, fear suddenly overwhelming
her anger. Treason was punishable by death. She hadn’t thought about her intentions that way before. But the Triumvirate was her nation, her home, her people. She’d dedicated her life to protecting it, and everyone who lived within its borders.

  “How could I be considered a traitor?” she protested hoarsely. “Everything I do is for the Triumvirate! Wanting change isn’t treason!”

  His gaze didn’t leave hers. “Some people might see it that way. Please, Aurie, promise you won’t talk like that to anyone else. I don’t want to see you get in trouble. Someone might have already heard you.”

  She opened her mouth to object, but then saw that there was something more than worry behind his expression. He looked scared … scared for her. The last time she’d seen him look so frightened, he’d just learned that he’d be pitted against monsters in the Challenge. Wow, he must really be worried about this, she thought, pressing her lips together. Is it really that bad? She didn’t particularly want to find out.

  “Okay, I promise I’ll pipe down.” Then she put her hands on her hips in rebellion. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop thinking about it.”

  He shook his head. “You can’t change the world overnight.” Angling his mouth into something of a grin, he let his expression grow brighter. “But if you win, if you show everyone that Norms can protect people from the supernatural as well as Enchanters do … hey, it’s a start.” He glanced out the door. “I’d better lift the silencer spell before someone sees it and gets suspicious.” He waved his wand with a whispered word, and the silver mist disappeared.

  Now everyone could hear what she said, and she really had to watch her words. That expressing her hopes could get her killed scared her like no monster ever had. She hated the feeling.

  But just because I can’t talk about changing the world doesn’t mean it won’t happen. She leaned against the table’s edge with a huff. “I just want the Challenge to begin already.”