The day had started off normally enough. For that, Rith had to feel somewhat grateful. He and Awenturath had been given their marching orders to scout some little towns on Lanutha’s borders. They rarely found anyone of talent in the little farming hamlets and villages they passed through there, but it helped the locals to see a physical reminder of their great and powerful guardians from time to time. Also, Rith enjoyed the break from the hustle and bustle of the Warren and the courtly intrigues he’d been subject to so much recently. Being an Audil came with some unavoidable hazards. Even for the black sheep of the family.
::One last stop today,:: his bond intoned in a voice that dripped like melted chocolate across his thoughts.
::Let’s take our time getting there. In a couple hours it’ll be dusk, and we can stay the night at an inn on the royal copper.::
::You can stay in an inn,:: Awenturath chidded. ::I get to stay outside. Besides, what’s the point when I can just bring us home in an instant?::
::The point is the adventure. You remember that, don’t you?::
::Ah, you mean the girls.::
::If I happen across a comely woman while exploring the local night life, well that’s just a bonus.::
::You may not have noticed, but there is a distinct lack of lady dragons out this way. I would prefer my own bed tonight.::
::You’re no fun,:: Rith thought at his bond. A warm chuckle vibrated through his mind and through his legs in response as the sunset brown dragon powered forward.
They’d had this discussion a hundred times before. It always ended the same way. Sometimes Rith would stretch his luck and stay out a little later than usual, but always they ended up back at the Warren for the evening. As much as Rith loved his carousing, he loved his dragon more. Plus, he kind of preferred to sleep in his own bed too.
::Woah, did you feel that?:: Awenturath asked.
Rith held tight to his dragon’s harness as the smooth, even strokes of his wings wavered abruptly.
::Feel what?:: Rith demanded in return.
He was technically the search rider, but a search rider was nothing without the sensitivity of his or her dragon. It was the dragon that could sense potential in aspiring youths. Even now, years into his career, Rith had only developed a vaguely accurate sixth sense for picking out future riders.
As Awenturath banked in the direction of a small cluster of lights nestled up against a wall of towering, shadowed trees, Rith extended his senses. He strained and reached, but could feel nothing of what had caught his bond’s attention.
That was until they began to draw closer to the hamlet.
::Oh. Oh yeah. This is definitely the place,:: Awenturath said. His entire body quivered beneath Rith’s grasp as the muscular brown gulped down lungfuls of air like a bloodhound on a scent.
Rith felt the faintest tickle of awareness hit the back of his mind. As if a hundred eyes had just turned his way.
::What is that?::
::I don’t know, but it’s coming from down there.:: Without waiting for a command, Awenturath banked again and began a slow, circular descent. All the while his head swiveled to track a target, eyes focused on a single building on the outskirts of the hamlet.
The closer they drew, the more Rith became aware that something was amiss with this unassuming building. It was larger than the huts in town by far. Twice as tall and nearly three times as long. Two fat chimneys belched smoke into the purpling sky, and warm light filtered out from nearly every window along the top and bottom floors. When Awenturath came to a loping landing on the half-dead grass outside the front of the building, the faint sound of children’s laughter filtered to his ears through the open windows.
::Wow. This place reeks of potential. Like… it actually stinks. It’s so strong it’s like rubbing my face in a vat of people. Very talented, dragon-destined people.:: Awenturath said.
“I am getting something,” Rith admitted absently as he slipped from his dragon’s saddle. He too had become transfixed by the building, unable to look away from the bright red door set in a wooden frame. “This place isn’t on our route though.”
::Who cares? We were sent out to find candidates.:: The hulking brown lifted one forepaw and gestured dramatically at the building. ::Tell K’lter to take his pick.::
“Yeah… I’m going to check it out.” Rith gave his bond’s shoulder a firm pat then struck out toward the lone red door.
That sense of something indescribable grew and itched at the back of Rith’s mind with each step. Coupled with the clearer sounds of children laughing, children playing, children talking, Rith couldn’t decide if he was excited or uneasy. He settled on mildly annoyed a moment later as the heavy thuds of Awenturath’s footfalls announced that the dragon had opted to follow him.
At the door, Rith paused before knocking to turn and make a shooing motion at his bond. The brown’s large, angular head hovered in the air just over his shoulder, nostrils flaring and whooshing with each excited inhalation.
“Back up a step. You’ll scare them,” Rith admonished.
In response, Awenturath backed up a single step. No more. He sat down and curled his tail around his legs, head still strained forward and eyes glittering a blue as bright and eager as a spring day.
Rith gave up the discussion as a lost cause and turned back to the door. Three strong raps sounded out against the solid wood when he put his knuckle to it. Within, the sounds of children quieted down.
It took only a moment for someone to answer Rith’s knock. The door opened to reveal a woman well into her matronly years. Her face was lined by experience and age. Her salt and pepper hair was pulled back into a tight knot on top of her head, as if she expected it to keep her features from drooping even further. She wore a simple gown but pricy looking gown of maroon velvet. When she spied Rith on the stoop, her sharp, blue eyes took him in with the calculating attention of a tax collector inspecting his earnings. When her eyes passed from him to the beastial shadow hovering over his shoulder, her eyes doubled in size and she took a step back.
“Apologies for calling so late in the evening,” Rith began before the woman could think to shut the door in his face. He took a barely visible step forward. Just enough to put his toe over the threshold. He’d dealt with more than a few reluctant home owners in his time. With a flourishing bow and a charming smile, he drew her attention back to him. “My name is Rith Audil, rider of brown Awenturath, search rider for the Warren. My companion sniffed out someone of interest in your home and we were hoping to meet the occupants. May I come in?”
“No,” the woman said. Her tone was curt and strong, indicating a clear familiarity with exercising her authority. Whatever shock Awenturath had given her seemed to have worn off. “That absolutely will not be happening.”
“I promise not to take up too much of your time,” Rith said, pairing his words with another award-winning smile. If the gods had seen fit to bless him with all the good looks of the Audil line, who was he to squander their gift?
“You will take up none of my time. No matter what that beast of yours thinks it has sniffed out, this home is not open to you. This is an orphanage, not a butcher. You can’t simply waltz up and expect me to trot out the children for you to browse through like a market stall. They need families. Parents. Not a flying lizard. The only way they’re leaving here is once I’m convinced they have been placed in the right home. Now kindly take yourselves off our lawn.”
A sharp pain radiated up Rith’s leg as the woman shut the door with enough force to knock his foot back a step. He cursed under his breath, hopping up and down on one leg while the throbbing pain ran its course.
::Well that was rude,:: Awenturath said.
“That was a challenge,” Rith said, glancing back at the door. Prior to meeting the matron of the house, he’d seen the red as a cheerful splash of colour in an otherwise drab setting. Now he saw it for what it was; a warning against the beast within. “And I accept that challenge.”
* * *
The next day, two dragons appeared in the sky over the orphanage. The large Awenthurath with motes of mica glittering through his nut brown hide, and the smaller, cloudy blue Penorith.
::Wow. You weren’t kidding,:: Penorith said, stretching out the threads of his thoughts to both riders and the brown gliding beside him.
::Right? It’s like getting smacked in the face with a cartload of people.::
::There has to be at least six or seven potentials down there. Maybe more.::
::Maybe lots more! It’s a whole orphanage of future dragon riders. Like we just found our own clutch of people.::
Penorith rumbled a laugh.
::I’d like to see them trundle out all dazed and confused to find the right dragon. That’d be a fun change of pace,:: he said.
::Oh! We could have the dragons wear white shawls. Just like how the candidates dressed up for us.::
::I never got that. Here’s a bunch of newly hatched dragons, still trying to figure out how their legs work, nevermind eyes, and you send people out dressed all in the same colour and expect us to tell them apart? Why make it harder on us?::
::Because they like to see us struggle? Humans get weird enjoyment out of seeing babies do stupid things.::
Rith smacked at his bond’s shoulder in answer to the last comment, earning another rolling thunder laugh from Penorith.
The red-haired mountain of a man seated on Penorith’s back, head search rider K’lter, drew their attention to the door with a gesture.
There, far below them, the red door had swung wide to permit the exit of its precious treasure. Children of all ages spilled out onto the yellowing grass before the orphanage. The youngest ones toddled together in a ragged knot under the careful watch of an older child. The rest of the older children ran off in pairs of two or three, eager to begin their games. Last of all came the matron in her dark attire, hands clasped before herself, standing on the stoop like a watchful shepherd observing her flock.
One of the children stopped and looked up, then let out a cry of delight. From their cry came other curious faces turned upwards. Soon all of the children were staring and shouting in surprise and excitement at the sight of the dragons wheeling overhead.
The matron looked up once, then disappeared back within the shelter of her hall.
::Hah. Look at them all,:: Awenturath exclaimed. ::They’re like little balls of joy. I want to scoop them all up.::
::I think we scared off the woman that bothered your rider before. No wait… she’s coming back out. Is that a broom?::
::She’s waving it at us. Why is she waving a broom at us?::
::I think she’s trying to shoo us away.::
K’lter made a few quick gestures with his hand. Rith responded in kind, then patted Awenturath’s shoulder.
::Looks like we’ve been given the command to retreat. You win this time, broom.::
Penorith took the lead as the two dragons turned tail on the orphanage. Awenturath followed willingly enough, but could not help one last longing look back at the children far below. They ran across the grassy field after them, shouting and waving their hands to call them back.
He would be back, he decided. This was not over yet.
* * *
A few moments later, both dragons appeared in the sky over the Warren once more. Before they had even landed, Rith was shouting excitedly across to K’lter.
“You see it, right? You felt the potential?”
“I did,” K’lter replied solemnly.
“So?” Awenturath landed, and Rith hopped nimbly down from his back.
“So nothing,” K’lter said as he too slid down from his bond’s back. “We are very clearly not welcome there.”
To an outside observer, K’lter and Rith were mismatched with their bonds. K’tler was broad and muscular, while Rith was tall and lithe. Awenturath echoed K’tler’s strength in his heavy build and darkly coloured hide, whereas Penorith was scarcely a few hands taller than Rith. Yet in personality, the two were well matched. Awenturath shared Rith’s love of adventure and shit disturbing, whereas Penorith was quiet and calculated. As the riders marched toward the skulking, green-shrouded giant that was the Warren, the two dragons fell into step behind them.
“Oh come on,” Rith exclaimed, hopping a few steps to get in front of K’lter. He started walking backwards, splaying his hands out as if all the evidence were laid out before them. “We can’t pass up on that place so easily. You felt it. I felt it. The dragons won’t stop complaining about it. That place reeks of potential.”
“Without the matron’s blessing, we won’t even be able to meet the kids,” K’lter countered.
“We could demand a meeting. We have that right.”
K’tler paused, causing Rith to stumble to a halt as well. He hit him with a look that Rith hadn’t seen since his weyrling days.
“Absolutely not,” K’lter said. “That is an emergency provision to be used during war times. Not something we can trot out every time someone blocks us at the door.”
Rith ran his hands through his hair with sharp, frustrated strokes.
“We are never going to find a collection of people that well suited ever again,” he called out as K’tler strode past him. “They have nothing right now. We could give them something.”
::He’s right,:: Penorith’s soft voice drifted across their minds. ::In all the years we've been searching, we have never found so much potential in one place before.::
“Without the sign off of a guardian, there’s nothing we can do.”
::We cooooould bring the dragons to them,:: Awenturath ventured. ::If the kids pick the dragon well… it works for us. Why not in reverse?::
K’tler paused and looked over his shoulder at the trio of eager faces behind him. He drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he said.
Rith took this as a victory and pumped a fist in the air. K’lter shook his head, then turned and continued on into the Warren. Just the thought of the paperwork ahead gave him a headache.
* * *
Mercifully, Rith left K’lter alone while the man attempted to create magic out of nothing. He was not so fortunate when it came to his sister.
“What are you up to?” Myia demanded.
The diminutive woman with honey blonde hair and eyes that could pin a soul to the ground stood in his doorway. She had her arms crossed over her chest, one shoulder pressed to the wooden frame, and head tilted at an angle. This was her “focused” look, as K’lter knew it. Once she wore that expression, nothing short of the end of the world would shake her interest in her target.
“I don’t know what you mean,” K’lter replied as innocently as he dared. He knew he hadn’t a hope of redirecting her now that she’d set her sights on him. In fact, he’d counted on it.
Myia strode into the head search rider’s office with all the authority of someone who owned every space she entered. She approached his desk and drew from the satchel at her side a stack of papers. A very familiar stack of papers. He’d rolled them, stamped them, and sent them off just that morning. She laid out the slightly rumpled sheets on his desk, overlapping the new stack of requests he’d been working on.
“Requisitions for accommodations. Requisitions for temporary families. Requisitions for an adoption drive. What is this?”
K’lter drew in a deep breath, held it, then sent up a short prayer to any god that was listening that he sounded as convincing out loud as he’d practiced in his head.
“Rith found an orphanage.”
“Okay,” she said, drawing out the word into a request for more information.
“It’s full of potential riders. Like chock full of it. We didn’t even land and I could feel the energy coming off them.”
Myia tapped the papers on the desk.
“And you got the permission of the matron before starting the process to bring them all here, right?”
K’tler remained silent, hoping the plea in his eyes was as powerful a weapon against his sister as it had been when he was a youth.
“Don’t give me that look, Kol,” she said, employing his childhood nickname.
“She just needs a little convincing,” he said.
“And you think stealing her kids away is going to convince her?”
“I think if we don’t do something for those kids now, we’ll lose them.”
“To good, loving families. Gods forbid.” The sarcasm his sister employed came out flat as a knife and just as sharp.
K’tler drew another deep breath and prayed for patience this time.
“Look, I have been doing this a long time now, and I have never felt the kind of energy coming off a place like I did there. This is not just one talented kid. This is all of them. All in one place. If we wait for them to go to good homes, they’ll be scattered.”
“So what’s your play here?” Myia asked. Because she would not let this proceed without knowing his exact plan down to the “what if” notes he’d scribbled in the margins. “Use the power of the throne to requisition those kids and send them off into the Nexus with no families and no support?”
“Gods no,” he protested vehemently. A quick scowl broke the neutral expression he tired so hard to maintain while talking to his sister. “Those kids deserve families and good lives. Just like all the dragons we place. And I just thought- well I mean, it was Awenturath’s idea to begin with-” At a raised eyebrow from his sister, K’lter rushed to finish his thought. “We bring people together when dragons hatch. Why not bring some dragons together to help place these kids?”
Myia stared at him for several long seconds without response. He might have believed his sister had turned to stone for all the stillness she embodied, save for the steady rise and fall of her breaths. She blinked once, then closed her eyes and squeezed her face into an expression halfway between pained and exasperated.
“Are you serious right now?” She demanded. “You want to run…”
“A clutch of kids. Human kids. Yes.”
“That is absolutely, unequivocally, the worst idea you have ever had.”
“Hear me out. We bring the dragons to them. The kids come out to meet them. If there’s a connection, great. If not, at least the kids know that they have a future with us if they want it.”
“And if there is a connection, then what? We just demand the matron sign over rights to the kid to whatever world and authority that dragon comes from?”
“No,” K’lter replied, drawing out the word while he rushed to develop that part of his plan. “We train them here. Plus-” he said, holding up a finger to forestall his sister’s protest, “we ask that any potential adopters come with families and a support system. Everything the kid would have if they were being adopted the normal way.”
“I am still not okay with whisking these kids off to distant worlds just because a dragon says they like them.”
“It worked for us,” K’lter muttered.
“That was a different time and different circumstances.”
K’lter didn’t have to reply. He simply regarded his sister steadily, waiting for her to work through the memories herself. The two of them on the run, orphaned, traded away to slavers, desperate for salvation, only to be literally whisked off their feet by a dragon rider. It had been a lifetime ago, and yet the memories were still fresh as yesterday in his mind. Same as the awe of landing on a new world. Same as the joy of binding their life to a curious, alien mind. Becoming dragon riders in their own right had been a terrifying and wonderful experience, and it was one he always wanted to share with others. When Myia lowered her gaze, K’lter knew she felt the same.
The red-haired head search rider leaned across his desk and grasped his sister’s hands in his own.
“Myia, we don’t know what these kids have gone through, but we do know one thing. They want to belong somewhere. People always want to belong somewhere. We could give them that.”
Myia narrowed her eyes, fixing him with the sort of look that turned greater men into quivering pups.
“Six months here at least,” she said.
“Absolutely,” K’lter agreed.
“All potential adopters get vetted by us first.”
“Makes sense,” he said.
“If the kid in any way looks uncomfortable or says no, then they don’t have to participate.”
“Sure,” K’lter replied.
“And,” Myia said, leaning forward to be on eye-level with him, “you are personally going to present this plan to the matron and get her approval.”
K’lter grimaced.
“Technically, Rith found them.”
“Technically, this is an order from your superior.”
K’tler’s shoulders drooped, but he did not lose his sister’s gaze. After a long, heavy sigh to impress his displeasure upon her, he nodded.
“Okay.”
Myia straightened up and withdrew her hands from his. She folded her arms across her chest and glowered down at him.
“All of this is dependent on getting the right approvals, by the way. You had better hope the powers that be are in a good mood.”
“I know you’ll be able to convince them. Anything to save another kid from a life alone, right?”
Myia drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly through her nostrils. She hadn’t lost her glare, but the edges softened.
“Anything for the lost ones,” she echoed.
K’lter held up the opened stack of requisition forms and smiled as Myia took them from his hands. He kept smiling as she turned and walked out of his office, shutting the door behind him. Then he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
::So…:: Penorith threaded into his thoughts, the dragon’s voice all warm greens and blues. ::When do I order the shawls?::
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