…or, How To Make Sure Someone Is Not Married To A Human, Elf, Or Dwarf
Violet had gotten up and left at some point while we were at breakfast. The next time I saw her, she was coming out of her room when I answered Marlot’s knock. She’d put on a big loose black top and a black broom skirt. This was a token effort towards modesty. It was obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra, and not just because there were no straps.
“Yeah, I’m going ranger, top and bottom,” she said, grabbing the sides of her skirt like she was going to curtsy. “The whole ’sense of freedom’ thing is kind of addicting.”
“But if you’re addicted to it, how are you free?” Marlot asked.
“Because I picked it,” Violet said. “It’s my addiction and nobody else’s.”
“If you had somebody else’s addiction, how would you ever know?” Marlot asked.
“I don’t know,” Violet said. “I might catch on when I keep reaching for their pipe.”
She had a black hoodie, but she wasn’t putting it on.
“Case you get cold?” I asked.
“Or I need armor,” she said.
“You might want to bring your weapon, too,” I said. “There will probably be campus guards around.”
“Oh, yeah,” Violet said, and she stuck a hand back through the door to catch a dagger with purple jewels stuck in the wavy blade.
“Have you worn that before?” I asked.
“I have a couple of different ones,” she said. “I don’t always bring one.” She shrugged. “If I don’t feel a monster coming, it’s probably not something you can fight with weapons. Or it’s undead, and I can kill it with fire.”
“Unless it’s the kind of monster that writes tickets for not having weapons,” I said.
“You can’t spend your whole life doing things because you’re afraid of getting caught,” Violet said.
“I heard it’s a twenty-five silver fine,” I said.
“It actually goes all the way up to the shiny yellow silver,” Marlot said.
“Yeah, but they’re not going to give anybody that for the first time,” Violet said. She shrugged. “And if they do? I don’t got it, so fuck ‘em anyway.”
“I think you have the orientation of fuckery inverted there,” Marlot said.
“Yeah, if you’ve got outstanding fines they won’t let you register for next semester,” I said.
“Look,” Violet said, holding up the curved dagger. “Weapon right here. I haven’t been fined yet. Anyway, I’m not the only one on the floor who lets that rule slide sometimes, and I don’t see anybody selling their bodies on the street to pay their piles of tickets.”
“Kira’s been approached by three different guards,” Marlot said. “She’s started wearing her ID on a lanyard around her neck so she doesn’t have to dig it out every time.”
“Yeah, that’s Kira,” Violet said. “She’s got problems I don’t. I feel bad about it, but how am I supposed to be properly guilty over my white human privilege if I never even cash in the benefits?”
“She’s got something there,” Marlot said to me. “I mean, the points do expire if you don’t use them. That’s why I ended up here. I had enough on my card either for a university education or a winged pony.”
“I use up most of mine being a delicate blossom and not being beaten into the pavement for it,” Violet said. “But I’ve got at least enough for a couple circles of protection from consequence.”
“We don’t think you’re a delicate blossom, Violet,” I said. The denial was automatic. Also, stupid.
“Yeah,” she said, drawing it out. “‘What you think’ is pretty much the worst thing to try to lie to me about. The whole ‘I can’t detect truth, only what you’re thinking’ thing kind of doesn’t work out in your favor there.”
We headed out and across campus. Violet wasn’t used to Marlot’s pace and kept walking ahead and then looping back. By the time we got to the bridge, Violet was as frustrated with Marlot as the ladle jockey from the cafeteria.
Marlot was pointedly oblivious to this. Maybe she was pacing herself, but she wasn’t usually so slow so early in the day.
“Oh, look!” Violet said when we were halfway across. She pointed at the treeline, where a blue dragon—Claude, the Skarean Blue, if they didn’t have another one of that breed—had just broken into view.
The blue dragon wheeled up towards the sky, straightened its long neck and let out a huge blast of lightning. The bridge rattled with the boom of the thunderclap that followed. We were still recovering from that when a fork of lightning arched across the sky, jumping among the feeble, fluffy cloud cover, answering the boom with a long rumble. I wondered how they’d done that for a second, then realized Claude and his rider seemed just as surprised by it. He wheeled over on his side and she lost her grip on his reins for a second.
“Whoa,” I said.
“Yeah, that’s cool,” Violet said.
“She almost fell,” I said. The dragon did a couple of tight loops in the air and then started to descend again. “Or lost control. I’m guessing they’re strapped into the harness pretty tight.”
“What?”
“Didn’t look like that second burst came from the dragon,” Marlot said. “The greater dragons have a natural affinity for their own elements and can set up effects like that, but I don’t think the little ones can do that.”
Marlot picked up the pace after that and we made it there a few minutes later. I’d never gone to the agronomy area. Between the signs, the crowd, and the fucking dragons, it wasn’t hard to find the right place anyway.
Right away, I spotted Claude, because he was rearing up on his hind legs and flapping his wings. I was sure it was him now. Not only could I see him more distinctly, but I recognized Margaret, the slim human woman who’d ridden him in the show, among the people trying to calm him down. She wasn’t dressed for dragonriding, though.
“Look sharp,” Marlot said, pulling my elbow. “It’s da fuzz.”
Downfield, a dozen guards had surrounded a towering tall blonde woman with strong features and a stone spear taller than she was. She was about twice a human’s height. Her hair was up in a bun, held in place by a metal headpiece. I’d call it a tiara, but it wasn’t that dainty. It was an iron circlet, with a design like turrets jutting up from a castle wall. She wore a chain shirt that was something between a tunic and a dress, the bottom hanging below her knee and slitted up the sides to mid-thigh. It was cinched at her broad waist with a leather belt bearing a wolf’s head buckle. The “hems” of the mail garment were lined with white cloth somehow, making it look more like clothes than armor.
They didn’t have their weapons out, but they didn’t need them. She looked like she was going to die of embarrassment on the spot. Her hand was over her mouth. Giant tears were streaming down her face.
“Oh, man,” Violet said. “I kinda wanna go over and, I don’t know. Hug her leg?”
“Wonder what they’re on her for,” I said.
“Just a guess, but probably not for a weapon check,” Marlot said. “Very pretty ogre, or very short giant?”
“Probably a half-giant,” I said.
“There are fair giants,” Marlot said. “She could be a full-blooded one.”
“She’s a little short for that,” I said. “She’s tall, but giants are usually giant.”
“Some people are shorter than others,” she said.
“People who are giants aren’t,” I said.
“So, every giant is taller than every other giant now?” Marlot said.
“Every giant is taller than that,” I said.
While we argued, a pretty half-elf dressed in tight leather and with unusually chestnut colored hair had come over to resolve whatever was going on. The guards seemed reluctant to disperse. I got the feeling they didn’t want to let the giantish woman go, but weren’t eager to take her on. Odds were they’d expected a different reaction than weeping and mortification.
The half-elf reached up and took her by the hand, and led her to the enclosure where a team of handlers was at work calming the grounded Claude. When he’d settled down, the half-elf climbed through the fence and beckoned the taller woman to lay her spear down and come over. Hesitantly, she did so. Under the rider’s guidance, she reached out and touched the base of his neck, then stroked along his spine.
“Oh, that’s freaking adorable,” Violet said as Claude responded to the touch.
“Which one?” Marlot asked.
“Both of them,” Violet said. “The cute is inextricably bound between them.”
“I bet she had something to do with the cloudburst that spooked him,” I said.
“Yeah, you think?” Marlot said.
“Yeah, that thought totally hadn’t occurred to either one of us,” Violet said. “I wonder where Barley is?”
“Ordinarily I’d say look for the crowd,” I said. “But I don’t think she’s the biggest draw here.”
I could see at least five paddocks set up with full-sized lesser dragons in them. Near where we were, there was also a small stage where eight mostly human singers were dressed up in blue robes and crowns. They looked like students. A sign on an easel said they were the Mad Regals, and advertised their next performance at the T. M. Lazar Center for the Bardic Arts back on main campus. Yep. Students.
Further down, there was a puppet show, and jugglers and mummers were making the rounds. Professor Bryony had called it a fair, but I hadn’t expected all the sideshows. I wondered how many of the performers were also bardic students taking advantage of the crowd drawn by the dragons to earn some credit. It was hard to believe the dragons weren’t enough of a draw on their own.
The mockdragons were all over the place, being taken around with handlers or tethered to perches. A force cage—biggest one I’d ever seen—had been conjured between two barns, and a flock of them flew around freely inside it.
“I’m gonna go find her and say hi,” Violet said.
“I’ll come with,” I said.
“Uh, I kind of wanted to talk to her about the room situation,” Violet said. “Since Temperance is definitely looking for other habitation, and Barley would really like a place that’s her own. Could you give me a few minutes to talk to her by myself?”
“Something you don’t want to talk about in front of everybody?” I said.
“I think she’d prefer it, for the just-roommates portion of it,” Violet said.
“Ah,” I said.
“But you know, you’ll be welcome to come over and bone her any time,” Violet said. “Boy sex gets boring. You seriously need more pussy in your sex life.”
“I’ll take that under advisement,” I said.
Violet turned and headed off, craning her neck to see over the crowd as she bounced along, her feet barely touching the ground and her whole body floating more than you’d expect a body to.
“I’m going to find a bathroom and say bye,” Marlot said. “Wanna come with me instead?”
“I want to go check out the big blues,” I said.
“You mean those big blue eyes, of course,” Marlot said. “Go for it. She ought to be worth at least eight notches in your bedpost, by volume.”
“Yeah, uh, not my type,” I said. “I don’t go for women who require native guides, sturdy rope, and favorable weather conditions to mount.”
“Oh, you’re funny when you’re racist,” Marlot said.
“That wasn’t racism,” I said. “That was a tall joke.”
“Whatever, it cost you fifty privilege points either way,” she said, and she started stumping away towards one of the more modern-looking farm buildings, ignoring the portable johns that had been set up at the edge of the event.
The giant-like woman had moved on by this point. It would have been interesting to learn more about her—including her actual race—but it seemed creepy to follow her, as easy as it would have been. I headed for Claude instead.
He was at ease now, walking in a circle in his paddock, his wings folded up on his back. They’d removed the tack and the half-elven rider was nowhere in sight. Margaret seemed to be the “face” for the exhibit. She was smiling and chatting with folks, who were giving his enclosure a wider berth than any of the other dragons except for the red, Magestrix.
Getting closer, I noticed all the little details that hadn’t been apparent watching him perched on stage. The spur protrusions on his legs. The way his toes hooked upward to keep his talons from dragging on the ground when he walked. The way the scales on the top side of him glittered in the sun and had striations of differing shades, while the ones underneath were a dull and uniform sky blue.
His eyes were worth noticing. People drew dragons with eyes like cats or snakes. I’d figured that was about what they looked like. It turned out a dragon’s eye was like a dragon’s eye. There wasn’t anything else like it. Claude’s were blue on the outside, fading towards white in the center, with jagged diagonal pupils.
I walked right up to the fence. There were signs warning against climbing over or sticking limbs through without a handler’s permission, but nothing saying to keep back. Glowing stones laying on the ground inside the oval of the temporary structure described a smaller oval, which the dragon didn’t seem to be able or inclined to step over.
My boldness got Margaret’s attention.
“Ave!” she said. “Hail! Hello! Welcome!”
“Ave,” I replied. The use of a draconian greeting was a little corny, but whatever.
“Are you interested in dragons?” she asked.
“Yeah, I saw him at the show in Enwich,” I said. “Claude, right?”
“Yes. He’s registered as Tiberius Claudius,” she said. “But somehow he’s not quite regal enough to pull it off, so we call him Claude.”
“That’s cute,” I said. “I wouldn’t be the one to tell a dragon he’s not regal, though.”
She had a slight elven cadence to her speech, not surprising since there were so many elves and elfbloods in the group. Since they worked with animals that lived for hundreds of years, that wasn’t surprising.
“Yes, well, after dealing with Magestrix and Her Imperial Highness all day, Claude’s nonsense is so transparent,” she said.
“Magestrix is the red, isn’t she?” I asked. I didn’t have to ask who Her Imperial Highness was. They’d had so much pride in Vera, the Imperial Blue, respectfully named after the Empress. She’d expect me to know who she was talking about.
“Yes,” she said, smiling. “You paid attention or did your homework. I’m—”
“Margaret,” I said, holding out my hand. “I’m James. That’s, uh, my human name. Among my grandfather’s people, I’m Iamos Toxotes.”
Okay. Total cheeseball. I admit it. This was a woman, though. Not a girl. Not a “college woman”. A grown woman, who worked with dragons. She had a few lines on her face, but her body was holding up pretty well. I’d seen her in black leather, and she didn’t look too bad in the elven-inspired vest and dress she was wearing.
I wasn’t going to get anywhere with her in a single afternoon while she was working, but it didn’t hurt anything to get a little flirt on, see how far I could go. She didn’t have a wedding band or a torc. If the chains around her waist meant something, it wasn’t a human or elven marriage symbol, or a dwarven one I’d heard about.
“Wow,” she said. “Many people remember the dragons’ names, but very few pay any attention to the riders.”
“Well, I figure you’re not just there on his back to balance out the load or whatever,” I said. “How come you’re not riding him today?”
“Today is about public relations as much as anything,” she said. “These magnificent beasts can’t speak for themselves, so we must speak for them. I’m Claude’s primary rider, so I am the one who speaks for him.”
“I think that’s really noble,” I said.
“Dragons were the original inhabitants of the world,” she said. “They were old when elves were new. Sages say that there will still be dragons when the last races of people have died out.”
“I’ve heard that,” I said. “But doesn’t a line like that make conservation a hard sell?”
She laughed.
“Conserving dragons is already a ‘hard sell’,” she said. “The dragons who will outlive elves and men don’t need much protection, it’s true. But just as with creatures of later orders of creation, there are high dragons and there are low dragons. It’s the low ones we are concerned about. The time when shepherds lived in fear of a winged shadow are gone. Now the shepherds grab enchanted crossbows, or their pastures are protected by wards that prevent flying over them at any height, cutting the dragons off from more land than just their own.”
“How bad is it?” I asked.
“Bad,” she said. “There are only six Imperial Blue Dragons in the wild, for instance, and they were reintroduced by breeding programs in the last few decades. I’ll be dead and gone before any of them produce eggs. The Skareans—my Claude’s line—are doing a bit better. There are a few hundred of them. We don’t have numbers on the Northern Mountain Reds. Their remoteness may have sheltered them from the predation their cousins have suffered, but we don’t know. Reds suffer the most attacks, because they are so visible and because their fire breath is seen as uncommonly dangerous. You’ll notice Trixie doesn’t have quite the same audience as HIH does.”
“Trixie?”
“Magestrix,” she said. “Which is silly, since she’s a great big pussycat. Vera is the least domesticated of any of our performing dragons. When Claude gets spooky, the danger is his thrashing tail or flailing neck will strike somebody, but Vera would just plain attack were she set off similarly and not restrained. But Imperial Blues are so pretty, so everybody just crowds around.”
“Ah,” I said, and I scratched off my plan to offer to show her my tattoo. “What set him off, exactly?”
I hoped for at least a clue about the oversized woman’s heritage. Storm giant seemed the obvious choice, but as I recalled they were the largest race of fair giants. It would probably take more than one human ancestor to drag one down to ten or eleven feet.
“You didn’t see?” she asked.
“I just got here,” I said.
“Oh, it was just an overexcited student trying to say ‘hello’,” Margaret said. “I think she was as frightened as he was.”
“You sound surprised,” I said.
“Is that odd?” she asked. “I suppose you’re used to thinking of people being afraid of dragons, not the other way around, but they are like any other creature. They can be curious about the unknown and they can be startled by the unexpected, the same as any animal—or person.”
“I guess that makes sense,” I said. “So, are you stuck here all day?”
“I do get breaks,” she said. “But I mostly spend them here. Claude’s my big baby. Of course, he is a baby who was born more than two centuries before I was, but he’s still a baby all the same.”
“I was going to go get a pop or something,” I said. “Would you like some? Or lemonade or something?”
“You’re very kind,” she said. “But I have a water bottle. Thank you.”
“Oh, okay,” I said.
It didn’t seem like there was any graceful way to stick around after that, since I’d just said I was going to get a drink. I’d head back her way later, after getting something to drink and catching up with Violet and Barley.
Right up until the point she’d shut me down, it had gone pretty well.
