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“Yes, I’d been told you could speak. That’s very odd. Dragon anatomy has been my area of study while at the university. Dragons have vocal cords capable of only producing very basic sounds; growls, clicks, grunts and the like. The more sophisticated communication is done through psychic bonds and only between bonded dragons and their riders. Can your animal do this as well?”
Quite well, thank you.
I heard my dragon perfectly clearly, but from the professor’s jump, so did she.
If you wish to conduct the conversation this way to ensure a more sophisticated discourse, I am amenable.
How in all the gods...? What does this…? A paper, if I get sufficient audio-visual proof this could make my career. A promotion to the Department of Dragon Affairs. Knock out that officious pencil pusher, Blake. Or it could end me. Who would believe? Laughingstock, professional suicide...
If you’re quite finished with your self-absorbed little anxiety spiral, it might be timely to let you know you’re still communicating with the two of us.
Shit! Stop thinking, must stop thinking. That’s a thought, so is this! How do you stop this? Terrible invasion! Can it do this at any time? What the hell is Bhechro going to think? Gods, what if they find out about—.
All of a sudden the cavalcade of thoughts came to an abrupt end. She hadn’t realised yet if the sweat pouring off her brow and wild eyes were anything to go by.
What happened? I said. What are we not supposed to find out?
Riders could always block out our intrusions, I guess it stands to reason that a natural talent for that persists in t
he Aravisians. Her mind sensed a threat and is automatically shielding.
We let the woman know this and slowly the tense hunch of her shoulders softened. She watched us closely, obviously thinking something quite offensive when a small smile formed on her face and we didn’t react. “Fascinating,” she said finally, writing down voluble notes on her scroll of paper. “I need to let you know, the Aravisian government has authorised a battery of tests. You’ll be required to attend regular sessions here to investigate the differences between you and the Aravisian dragons.”
“What kinds of tests?” I said with a frown.
“They’re mostly non-invasive. Nothing to be concerned about. Now, I need to draw some blood from both of you,” Professor Lane said.
“No,” Miazydar said, his wings fluttering.
“This has been approved by the Minister himself.”
“No!” Miazydar said. He moved restlessly on my shoulders as the woman got to her feet, reaching for him. I jerked back, but I needn’t have bothered. He grew in size rapidly, so much we were both forced to opposite ends of the room. “You may live in a world where dragons are little more than scaled, clawed cattle, happy to be herded from pillar to post, kept in an infantile state as a government-sanctioned means to own beings who have been known throughout history as knowledgeable, wise, learned creatures, but I am no such thing. No matter what that piece of paper or any other says, you have no right to my body, to do anything to me other than that which I permit. Are we clear?”
I was pretty sure he was. A thin stream of saliva dripped from his now cavernous mouth, his sabre-like teeth right in the woman’s face. She just nodded and then Miazydar shrunk down to his cat-sized form, returning to my side. She swallowed and then smoothed her hair. I noticed her hand shaking as she wrote some more notes, underlining some words several times. Made me wish I read Aravisian.
“So can I assume you’re refusing the blood tests as well?” she asked me, trying for hard arse but sounding more like someone who’d survived a near miss.
“No, you can take some samples if you’re happy to explain what you need them for.”
Apparently, it was all to try and ascertain the difference between humans and Aravisians. None of the other races across the whole continent, humanoid or other, had been able to successfully bond with dragons in the same way as the Aravisians. The fact I had was of great interest. There was also some spiel about dragons being protected in Aravisia as in other countries they had been historically seen as pests that threatened settlements and herds of meat animals. Miazydar watched the woman with an eagle eye while she took the vials of blood. “Well, it’s nearly time for your next class, so perhaps we should stop things here. I need to talk to Vice-Chancellor Bhechro about some of my initial findings and alert him to your dragon’s resistance to testing.” The reproof was muted, but definitely there. “I’ll be in touch.”
Rylen met me outside, barely glancing at me before pointing down the hall. “This way to Introduction to Dragon Husbandry.”
“Look, I appreciate you guys showing me around, but you really don’t have to. I can ask people where rooms are.”
He snorted at that. “They’re just as likely to send you round to the meat beast sheds. Look, Alden’s got the whole noblesse oblige thing happening and it’s got to be directed at someone or something, so it may as well be you.”
Not for the first time did I wonder how the translator spell, Babelfish or whatever, that my Nan had cast on us, worked. What were the Aravisian words for noblesse oblige? And why did it seem to also work on Jez and Flea?
“So, is he part of the royal family?”
Rylen finally looked at me, his smile the first genuine expression I’d seen on him so far. He shook his head. “If I had any doubts that you were an outsider, I don’t now. He’s low down the distaff line, some kind of third or fourth cousin to the current Queen, but he gets a dragon automatically, a place here despite his shitty grades. Not much point him going to class anyway, gets in the way of his main purpose; putting a classy, good-looking face on the young nobility. Hot enough to want to fuck, well-bred enough that you know you’re not going to get to.”
“Are we talking about me or you here?” I said.
His smile twisted. “Not falling for that lord of the manor act? Guess not if you killed the Prince of Damorica. Here’s Alden looking out for you, but perhaps it should be us protecting him from the regicide?”
“As long as he doesn’t try raping my sister or serving either of us for dinner, he’s safe. Either of those things happen, all bets are off.”
