Page 77 of House of Ashes
A vaguely sulfurous scent reached my nose. We came to a landing, where the keystone was marked with an open maw of sharp teeth.
“Here we are!” she said brightly, a girl excited to show off a beloved pet. “Now, here's the thing: she was trained by the Mourning Fangs like any typical riding wyvern. But Gaelin had an idea for draga like me, who were part of a House, yet unbonded: he’s started a protocol for teaching wyverns to recognize certain people. If Rhylan is in dragon form, Garnet will follow him to the ends of the earth. But if an unfamiliar dragonblood is too close to us, she’ll go on the defensive, and in the worst case, offensive.”
I furrowed my brows. “Aren’t wyverns usually rather cowardly?”
“Usually. I think I once told you that wyverns will always run from a fight. Well, generally that’s true…but Gaelin’s protocol instills an extremely deep loyalty in the hatchlings. Garnet is utterly bonded to me and Rhylan. If an unfamiliar dragon approaches, she’ll hold the line of defense until Rhylan can back her up. If all else fails, she’s trained to bring me to safety as quickly as possible.”
We stepped into the wyvern stables, and the sulfurous scent became stronger. The walls of the eyrie had been carved out, letting sunlight spill over the stables in buttery rays, so the wyverns could come and go as they pleased.
Unlike dragons, wyverns usually didn’t stray very far from their roosts; I knew from the Training Grounds instructor that a sharp whistle was enough to call them back.
The ‘stables’ themselves were nothing like horse stables. Large boxes stuffed with leaves, sticks, and hay had been erected on platforms, giving any wyverns they kept a nest well above the ground. The ground itself steamed, wisping off the obsidian floor and casting the roost in a strange sort of haze.
Kirana held out an arm, preventing me from walking any further. “I’ll have to introduce you to her as a friend. Otherwise, if you’re riding Rhylan, she’ll perceive you as a threat.”
It was a good thing we hadn’t come across Garnet flying free on any of our practice flights. I didn’t fancy the idea of being plucked off the saddle by an angry reptile, with Rhylan none the wiser.
Kirana reached into her pocket and pulled out a long strip of dried meat. “Hold onto this, please.”
She went ahead of me, letting out a trilling whistle that echoed off the walls. I watched, clutching the meat and hoping Garnet wasn’t hungry for a living, breathing snack, when something nudged my elbow.
My heart almost seized right then and there, but it wasn’t a wyvern at my side. A tall Bloodless woman, wearing a uniform similar to Viros’s: a dark uniform, embroidered with gold at the edges. Instead of the silver insignia of an Eyrie-Master, hers was bronze, depicting a winged beast.
She looked vaguely familiar, with pale blonde hair pulled back into a bun and light blue eyes. It wasn’t until she spoke that I placed the familiarity: she looked like an older version of Nilsa.
“Are you ready for the bloodthirsty beast?” she asked, eyes crinkling at the corners. She might look like Nilsa, but she was warmer, her face lightly lined from years of smiles. She held out a hand for me to shake. “I’m Alriss. Wyvern-Master of Jhazra. As long as you’ve got treats, she’ll like you, but watch your fingers.”
I shook her hand, feeling a little awkward. Wyvern-riders were a different breed from everyone else; they didn’t defer to anyone. If one had approached the Drakkon himself, they would have offered a hand to shake rather than bowing.
“Sera,” I said, not wanting to append my title. “Kirana tells me that she can force Garnet into friendship with me.”
“Ah, she’s not so bad,” Alriss said fondly, watching the wide windows for any sign of the wyvern. “A bit rambunctious, but what young creature isn’t?”
Garnet chose that moment to make her entrance.
Flapping wildly, the wyvern darted in through the cavernous entrance, screeching so loudly my ears were ready to burst. The creature leaped down, running to Kirana with loping, almost rabbit-like strides and nuzzling her rider.
She was much smaller than a dragon, almost pony-like, with wings so enormous they dwarfed her body. Kirana’s name for her was evident immediately: her scales shifted in hue from a brilliant crimson in the sun to a rusty auburn in the shade.
The wyvern circled Kirana once more, then stopped, flat nostrils flaring as she curled around Kirana and turned her gaze towards the door.
Towards me.
Her eyes gleamed a hot, brilliant ochre, and I was struck by the difference between wyverns and dragons: in many ways, their forms were similar.
And yet there was no calculating intelligence in her gaze, only the instinctive animal knowledge that there was an intruder in her territory.
Garnet hissed, long and low, and Kirana reached up to stroke her head. She offered the wyvern a strip of meat, speaking in low, soothing tones, and as Garnet gulped down the treat, Kirana pulled out a hairbrush from her skirt’s deep pockets.
My hairbrush. I watched as she held it to the wyvern’s nose, still whispering to her, but now her voice was firm.
“It’s part of the protocol,” Alriss murmured to me. “Garnet is trained to respond to certain keywords given only by Kirana. Not even I am allowed to know them. If anyone were to bring them down and take Garnet captive, they wouldn’t be able to tame her, nor turn her against her rider.”
I nodded, watching Kirana maintain Garnet’s complete focus as she spoke to her.
If I never mate bonded, even after Rhylan abdicated the throne, maybe I could ride a wyvern.
It wasn’t the same, not at all; the thought of riding a creature broken to saddle and trained like a horse was not as appealing as the power and intelligence of a dragon, not to mention the mind-speech. A wyvern was rather more like a pet than a partner.