DragonRider by S. Rodman
a party, I’d call it a rave. Dragonriders are crazy motherfuckers. The main hall has been turned into a nightclub, complete with UV lighting and weird decorations, such as white netting and bits of mannequins. Rowan is rocking the DJ booth and her electric blue hair looks incredible.
About twenty riders and rider-kin are already on the dance floor even though it is still early. I watch them twist and contort their bodies to the rhythm of the music. It does kind of look fun. Almost freeing.
But I’d rather be anywhere else. Like at the cottage with Cai. Harlen and I were finally able to sneak off and see him yesterday, under the pretence of going to buy supplies for the party.
Cai doesn’t want anyone else to know where he is, and I respect that. It just makes visiting him damn hard. And I don’t even want to be visiting in the first place. I want us all to be living together. I want to go to sleep with him there and I want to wake up with him still there. Most of all I don’t want him to be all alone in the middle of nowhere. Grieving and lost.
There is not even any phone signal in the arse end of Wales in a deep valley. What if he has an accident or something? Even though the thought of the outrageously graceful Cai doing anything like being clumsy with an axe while chopping wood, is ludicrous, it does still worry me.
Despondently, I turn and head to the kitchen. I need another drink. I only came into the hall because I hoped the music would be too loud for people to try to talk to me, and it is. But I’m not a party person at all and the music is just too loud. It’s hurting my ears. Guess I was born old. And that’s fine by me, I’m not ashamed of it.
The kitchen is crammed full of people. Most of them riders from other castles. I try not looking at anyone as I pour myself another drink. I need to try to find Harlen again, last time I saw him he was in the middle of a swarm of important looking people. He could probably do with backup and then he could back me up in return.
“I’m Flight Commander Henderson, pleased to meet you.”
I stare at the offered hand as if it is a venomous snake. Reluctantly I shake it. It belongs to a stocky man in his early thirties, with short dark hair and dark eyes that are utterly unreadable.
“Hi,” I say.
There is no point introducing myself, they all know who I am. And what would I say, anyway? ‘Hi, I’m Kirby Taylor, new Dragonrider and potential chosen one.’
Henderson’s dark eyes rake me over, scrutinising every inch of me. I shiver under the perlustration. There is nothing sexual in it, at least I bloody well hope not. It’s all just an assessment. Trying to discern if I’m worthy.
“Can we talk?” he asks.
I thought that was what we were doing, I think snidely, but I lead him out to an empty hallway. I lean my back against the wall and try to act nonchalant.
“I’ve heard impressive things about you.”
I shrug. I don’t want this. Whatever this is. He is either about to swear fealty to me or denounce me as a fraud. Both are hideous.
His dark eyes narrow. “The senedd are tyrants. Rider numbers are falling at an alarming rate. There haven’t been any dragon young for a hundred years. Now would be a great time for the Ddewiswyd to be reborn.”
I stare back at him. The bass of the music is thrumming through the wall behind me. Giving the castle a heartbeat.
“People need hope. Something to believe.”
A shiver dances along my spine. So this is where this is going. He has come to the same conclusion that I have. If enough people believe that I am the chosen one, then it makes it true. Reality is irrelevant. It’s faith that turns the wheel.
“They can believe in someone else,” I say tonelessly.
Something flashes across his eyes. “They have already chosen you, can’t you feel it?”
“They can unchoose me and choose you instead!” I snap.
“You are new, young, good-looking, powerful. You fit the bill, whether you like it or not.”
I glare at him. Despite the magnitude of the situation, I’m still horribly flustered at being called good-looking. Unusual looking I can accept, a guy with waist length red hair is not something you see every day, but it makes me uncomfortable to think that people don’t see the same thing that I do when I look in the mirror.
“You’re already paying the price for it, so why not take some of the glory?” he asks.
This guy is relentless. And what the hell is he talking about? He sees my confusion and takes in a deep breath.
“Do you really think your saddle girth snapping was an accident?”
Everything freezes. The pulse of the music pauses between beats. The beams of dim light solidify. Dust motes hold still mid air. I cease breathing. My heart stills. My blood becomes darkness. I can feel the void and it is laughing.
Someone had cleaned my saddle. I had noticed that. They had used a sweet smelling oil. I had liked the aroma.
I’m a naïve clueless idiot. It never crossed my mind that someone might imbue the oil with magic or an acid. Something that would eat away at the girth.
The saddle fell into the sea, and we never thought to retrieve it. It was never examined.
For a moment, I’m falling through the cold sky again. The tattered and frayed girth fluttering in the air like a pretty ribbon. I blink and I’m back in the silent and frozen hallway with Henderson, but I’m still falling. I’ll always be falling now.
The senedd want to cling onto their power. Not everyone will be happy to see a chosen one return. Even a fake one. The prospect alone is enough to scare them. People were willing to murder me and they destroyed Cai instead.
Moving my body feels like wading through treacle but I keep going. I turn away from Henderson. I have no idea if he says anything as I leave.
Somehow I make it back to the apartment. I open the door to Cai’s empty room and find Harlen sitting on the bare bed. Like me, he is searching for some essence of Cai, some lingering trace to hold onto. But there is nothing here. It’s just a barren room.
Cai is a few miles away. All alone in a cottage.
“There is an old coal mine in the mountain behind the cottage,”says Ri. “It would only take a night to dig a dragon sized entrance to it.”
“Can they do anything to stop us taking our dragons and leaving?” I ask Harlen and my voice sounds fierce.
Harlen blinks at me in confusion. “No,” he answers carefully. “But they need us. There are barely enough dragons and riders to hold back the tylwyth as it is.”
I know he is right. I’m furious at riders, and I will be no one’s puppet, but I’m not spiteful enough to let the world burn. I’m not deranged. I’m still going to protect my home and the countless innocent lives on Earth.
“The dragons can tell Ri and Zh if the siren sounds, and we could still fight,” I tell Harlen, as I question Ri. Sabotaging or assassinating me when we only meet in air, is going to be a fucking challenge for any bastard who wants to try it.
“Yes!” answers Ri.
Harlen just stares at me. His eyes wide and dark. It is a lot for him to take in. I have sprung it on him out of nowhere.
“Well, I’m taking Ri and moving into the cottage with Cai. You can stay here and be flight commander.”
“Fuck that!” exclaims Harlen as he jumps to his feet.
“Je has decided to come too. Cai can still ride, even though he can’t fight.”
I see a flash of gold in Harlen’s eyes as presumably Zh tells him the same thing and then a huge shit-eating grin spreads across Harlen’s face. My heart flutters. The first taste of happiness in weeks starts to flow within me, igniting a flame of hope.
“The look on Cai’s face when we turn up with our dragons is going to be priceless,” says Harlen delightedly.
I grin back at him. It is. It really, truly is going to be priceless, and I can’t wait to see it.