Chronicles of the Overworld Book 1 — Nihal of the Land of the Wind (28 page)

Still, Nihal remained confident she would find a way eventually.

One day, by chance, she arrived a little earlier than usual and saw Oarf as he was led into the arena.

His keeper pulled him along with the help of two other servants. It was a sad scene. The dragon balked and dug in his hind legs to keep from being dragged, but the chain had wounded his ankle. He got yanked forward bit by bit to the sound of the men’s curses as he growled and whimpered in pain.

Nihal had not noticed the wound. She cursed herself for not checking in on him more often to see the kind of care he was receiving. Once Oarf was in the arena, Nihal stalked up to the servants as they were leaving.

“Hey, you!” she called to them. “I don’t want to see that chain again.”

They looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

“What do you know. Without that chain he’ll eat you up in one bite and fly away, girl,” one man sneered.

Nihal grabbed him by the lapels. “I’m a future Dragon Knight. I’d advise you to be more respectful.”

His colleague barely managed to suppress his laughter. Nihal drew her sword and put it to his chest. “I mean it,” she growled. “As of tomorrow, no more chain. If he kills me, that’s my business. I’ll take the blame for you cowards if he escapes.”

She let the men go and turned to Oarf. He was licking his wounded paw, trying to reach under the chain. Nihal walked up to him and he assumed an attack position, roaring a warning.

He was preparing to launch a burst of flames when Nihal swung her sword down. The iron links fell away revealing a large, festering sore.

Oarf was too surprised to fight when Nihal stretched her hands toward his paw. The dragon felt heat around his wounds that eased away his pain. Nihal noticed the animal’s relief.

Oarf lowered his big emerald green head and saw that a reddish light was coming from Nihal’s hands. He tried to pull back a little, but Nihal moved closer and kept working her healing spells.

Oarf watched her carefully. It had been a long time since anyone treated him so lovingly. That was when the dragon finally opened himself to Nihal. He understood her sadness, her gloom, and her sorrow.

Nihal did not have the skill to work a healing spell for long, but at least she was able to clear the infection. She sat on the ground, covered in sweat. The spell had required a lot of energy.

Oarf sniffed at her inquisitively and Nihal gave him a faint smile in reply.

“You owe me,” she told him. “Maybe you could be a little more cooperative from now on.”

Oarf went back to his pen without causing any trouble.

The next day, Oarf came to the arena on his own. Nihal walked toward him, her hand outstretched. She had never patted a dragon. Not even Vesa had allowed her to touch him, though by now he was accustomed to her presence.

Seeing her hands, Oarf drew back in disdain.

“Hey, what’s this? I freed you, I healed you … you owe it to me to let me touch you, Oarf.”

The dragon grunted and shook his head.

“Come on. You’ll like it!” she smiled.

Nihal stretched her hand out again. It was shaking. Her fingers grazed Oarf’s skin lightly; it was cool and leathery but pleasant to the touch.

She rested her palm on Oarf’s chest and felt a powerful, rhythmic beat. Life. This was life. Nihal started to run her hand over his scaly flank more confidently.

Oarf did not move. It was as though he were listening. No one had ever petted him before. It was nice. The hand was small and cool and the creature was so kind to him. And yet, she understood hatred. He had sensed that the first time he saw her. The creature was sad and bitter, like him.

Maybe he could trust a human again. He wanted to unfurl his wings and fly the way he had done as a pup.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to fly, too,” Nihal said as she petted him.

She liked the way his scales felt. She could hardly believe she had done it. She was petting a dragon. Her dragon. And one day, she would ride him.

For a moment, Nihal found a part of herself that she had lost when her city went up in flames. Once again she felt free, with her whole life before her, a life whose path had not yet been traced.
How have I managed to come so far from what I was?

Then Oarf moved away from her, but not before Nihal caught the happy gleam in his eyes, too.

Later, Nihal told her tutor about her day.

“Good, Nihal. I’m glad.”

“Now you’ll teach me to ride him, right?”

Ido puffed out a cloud of smoke. He seemed to be hesitating.

“So … ?” Nihal said impatiently.

Ido tugged thoughtfully at his beard. “Yes, I think the time has come. You’ve been here for three months; we’ve waited long enough.”

Nihal felt her heart leap. She would ride her dragon. She would begin to fight like a knight!

Ido did not share her enthusiasm.

He was fond of Nihal and he wanted to help her overcome her hardships, but if he could not, it would be up to him to make sure she did not become a Dragon Knight. She was too bent on revenge to fight for the Army of the Free Lands.

Nihal had made great progress as far as combat techniques were concerned, but in battle she continued to be blinded by rage. Ido knew she would be a danger to her comrades until she learned to fight alongside others. The time had come to make a decision.

For the next two weeks, Nihal spent all her afternoons at the arena. She talked to Oarf and petted him, then brought him back to the stables and took care of feeding him herself. The dragon had grown accustomed to her and only barely managed to hide his affection for her.

Nihal grew increasingly impatient with Ido.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asked him.

“I have to go to the command post.”

“Again?”

“Yes, Nihal,” Ido said as he packed.

“And the next day?”

“I’ll be at another base.”

“So when are you going to teach me to ride?” she protested, exasperated.

“I don’t know, Nihal.”

Ido was very busy. He was planning a large-scale attack. Between serving as an adviser at the base and attending meetings with generals and knights from the other camps, he did not have a moment to spare.

“If you don’t have time, I can go ahead and try on my own,” Nihal ventured one night as they ate.

Ido let his spoon fall into his bowl and looked her straight in the eyes. “Don’t go getting any ideas. Riding a dragon is no joke.”

“I know. But …”

“Case closed,” Ido barked, but his words fell on deaf ears. She was already set on the idea.

Nihal tried to resist the temptation. She trusted Ido and admired him, bur lately she had been asking herself more and more often why she should wait. She had a mission. Hanging around doing nothing was a waste of time.

One morning, Nihal woke and went to the arena earlier than usual. It was a harsh winter and the cold made her bones ache. She sat in the bleachers and huddled into her cloak to wait.

She saw Oarf appear gradually through the mist, a squire by his side. Oarf’s imposing figure moved forward gracefully.

She imagined the way their day ought to go, then wondered,
What if today
…

Oarf was drawing closer.

No, Nihal. Don’t even think about it. Ido will be so mad.

Oarf drew closer and closer.

On the other hand
…

Nihal got goose bumps at the happy thought of flying through the air.

No, I can’t. I don’t even know how to start.

A little voice inside her wondered how hard it could be. Then Oarf stopped before her and lowered his head.

“How are you?” Nihal asked as she scratched his muzzle. The dragon’s breath warmed her freezing hands.

Nihal began petting him. After two months of conflict, she and Oarf had come to an understanding. They were both ready for this step.

“What do you say? Shall we fly today?”

The dragon looked at her with his red eyes. He pulled his muzzle away from Nihal’s hand.

Maybe he doesn’t want to, but that’s normal. When I’m in the saddle, he’ll feel differently.

“Let me up, Oarf.”

Oarf grumbled and moved away from her.

Nihal was stubborn. She would mount Oarf today at all costs. She raised her voice and yelled, “Stop!” but Oarf only hastened his step.

Nihal acted impulsively. She ran to his side, leaped into the air, grabbed onto one of his flanks, then climbed onto his back.

The incredible thing was that she managed to get herself seated. Oarf was enraged and began bucking wildly. Nihal clung to the skin on his neck as Oarf roared at her.

Oarf was furious. How dare she? He turned his muzzle toward Nihal and roared as loudly as he could, but Nihal would not budge.

“I’m sorry, my friend. There’s nothing you can do about it,” she said.

Then, Oarf took flight. He climbed into the sky, pounding his wings powerfully.

Nihal felt the wind beat her down. It was nearly impossible to breathe. She closed her eyes, terrified, but then she thought,
I’m flying! I’m flying on my dragon!

She opened her eyes and began to shout her joy. She felt as powerful as a god.

She held on with all her strength and looked down. They had reached a dizzying height. The trees around the fortress were barely visible. It was beautiful and terrifying.

Oarf came to a stop in midair. His wings tensed as he flipped over and took a nosedive toward the ground.

They fell slowly at first, but they gained more and more speed as the trees, buildings and fields came menacingly close.

Nihal clung to Oarf’s neck to keep from being blown away. She was terror-stricken. “I trust you! I trust you,” she began to holler to the dragon, although in reality, she did not trust him at all.

The ground was right beneath them, their crash imminent and inevitable. Nihal yelled with all the breath in her body.

Just when it seemed they would crash, Oarf climbed back up into the air and circled over the base, grazing the roofs of the buildings as the inhabitants fled in all directions.

She was scared out of her wits. Her stomach lurched and her heart was racing. She did not notice when Ido came out of the command post and looked up at the sky wide-eyed, nor did she hear the curses he yelled at her from below.

Oarf was having a world of fun.

He had not flown in ages. He was delighting in feeling the wind against his skin. In his euphoria, he forgot about his insolent passenger. He climbed high into the sky and then plummeted downward, giving a burst of speed. He somersaulted through the sky head over tail over and over again.

This was too much for Nihal. The sky and earth changed places before her eyes repeatedly. Up and down lost all meaning. Head spinning, she lost her grip and began falling through the clouds.

The wind blew violently against her body as she plummeted. She yelled but could not hear her own voice. She closed her eyes and thought:
What a stupid way to die
.

Then she crashed against something hard and scaly.

A crowd had gathered in the arena. Oarf landed gingerly and crouched down so the men could reach Nihal. As they helped her down, aching and unsettled, Nihal whispered, “You saved my life. Now you’re
really
my dragon.” But Oarf ignored her and stamped away.

Once Nihal regained her footing she received a resounding slap in the face. “Are you capable of doing
anything
without nearly killing yourself? When will you learn, dammit!?”

Ido yanked her away from the men holding her up. Nihal’s legs trembled and she fell to her knees.

Nihal looked up at him from the ground. “You never had any time. I thought …”

“I told you to wait,” he growled. “But no, you always have to do things your way.”

He forced her to her feet and dragged her to a building across the base. Nihal noticed it had few windows and all of them were barred.

“Please, Ido! I didn’t mean to do anything wrong,” she pleaded, but it was too late. Ido signaled for a soldier to lock her in.

“You’d better think things over,” he said, and left.

Nihal leaned against the wall, stunned and dejected. Her back was a solid ache. She stretched her arm back to rub her sore muscles but instead found that she was bleeding. Nihal sighed, too tired to recite a healing spell, and lay facedown on the floor. She was asleep in seconds.

When she woke a few hours later, she felt something cool against her back. She half-opened an eye and saw that Ido was putting ointment on her wounds. She stayed still, not wanting him to see she was awake. Her shame was worse than the pain.

“Did you have a nice nap?”

Nihal said nothing.

Ido rubbed the ointment in harder. Nihal moaned in pain.

“You scared the entire base and disobeyed my orders,” he said unsympathetically. “I don’t know how else to say it, Nihal—your behavior isn’t brave, it’s idiotic. You will stay here until tomorrow.”

Ido finished applying the ointment and left, slamming the door behind him.

Nihal stayed where she was on the ground. She was overwhelmingly angry with herself because she knew she was in the wrong, but she was also angry with Ido, for having pointed it out.

Ido unlocked her cell the next day. It had been a terrible night.

In the space between sleep and wakefulness, ghosts had appeared in her cell. She had been unable to look away from the bloody, mutilated figures that called to her. She could not scream, and she could not shut her eyes against them. They tortured her all night, crying for revenge.

And it was all Ido’s fault.

He had thrown her in this strange place. He had stood in the way of her plans for revenge with all his speeches about love for life, and fear, and the reasons for fighting.

She was not like everyone else. She was not a girl, not an ordinary warrior. She was a weapon of death and vengeance.

Ido snubbed her rancorous gaze. “You deserved it, Nihal, and you know it.”

They had nothing more to say to each other that day. Nihal took care of Vesa and looked after Ido’s weapons. They did not train, and she was not allowed to see Oarf.