K Halbrook - Silver Batal and the Water Dragon Races

When the dust in the cliff-hewn city of Jaspaton got too thick and the wind too whipping, even the most ancient and stalwart of the yarnsladies would leave their colorful silk tents and go indoors. And when they went indoors, so did everyone else.

Everyone sensible, at least.

On such a day, Silver Batal raced down one flight of stone stairs, and then another and another, refusing to let the trader on the desert floor out of her sight.

“Don’t go yet,” Silver shouted, spitting strands of hair from her mouth. The winds carried her words in the wrong direction.

The trader rolled the side flaps of his wagon down and struggled against the weather to secure them. He shook his fist angrily at the sky, but Silver laughed. His struggles bought her more time to catch him.

“Silver!” At the communal bread oven, her cousin Brajon called her name.

“Can’t stop!” Silver leaped over a chicken flapping its wings furiously to keep from blowing away. The leather bag holding Silver’s letter bounced against her hip.

“I have news for you,” Brajon said. “About you-know-who!”

At that, Silver hesitated, and her ankles twisted in different directions. She lurched forward, catching herself just before she would have hurtled down another set of stairs headfirst. But her bag continued swinging forward, spilling its contents down one level of Jaspaton.

“I’ll get it,” Brajon said. He ran, grabbing the chicken and clutching it to his chest along the way, and gracefully dashed down the steps.

“Ba wack !” the chicken squawked in protest.

Brajon scooped up the jewelers’ tools, the paper-wrapped candies, and the coins Silver kept in her bag. Someone else, though, reached the letter first.

Nebekker, one of the most ancient of the yarnsladies—and certainly the most mysterious—slowly picked up the parchment and scanned it.

Silver tapped down the stairs in her soft boots and held out her hand. “Thank you,” she said.

Nebekker kept reading, and Silver ground her toe into the dusty step impatiently. In Jaspaton, everyone treated the elderly with reverence, but Silver hated the way the old woman was casually reading the letter. No respect for privacy!

As she waited for Nebekker to finish snooping, Silver moved to one of the stone overlooks and leaned against the copper railing, peering down. The trader’s flaps were secured, and now he was trying to calm his herd animals. And for good reason—no Jaspatonian would ever be caught out in the vast desert in such a storm.

Brajon appeared next to Silver and dumped her belongings back into her bag, plus a good fistful of dust. “I think that’s everything.”

“Almost everything.” Silver motioned to Nebekker.

“Is that a letter to—”

Silver nodded quickly.

To Sagittaria Wonder, the best and most brilliant Desert Nations water dragon racer in the whole world. Silver’s hero.

Brajon shrugged and shifted the chicken, who was trying to stick its head down his tunic. “You can tell her everything in person when she comes to Jaspaton in two weeks.”

Silver’s heart thumped so hard she was sure it could be heard over the whole desert.

“She’s coming here ? Why?” Silver glanced over her shoulder. The trader was climbing into his wagon and pulling his scarf over his face.

“You know that really thick seam of gold we discovered a week ago?”

Silver rolled her eyes. Brajon said we as though he were already a full-fledged miner, not an ele-miner. “Yes, of course,” she said, “but what does that have to do with Sagittaria?”

“Just today, Sormy Mohan said”—Brajon cleared his throat and lowered his voice to mimic the grizzly old head miner—“‘the queen’s coming from Calidia to look at our gold. She’s bringing that dragon racer, too. They need a design for some kind of racing cup.’”

Silver clutched her cousin’s shoulders. “You mean Sagittaria Wonder is really coming?”

“That’s what I heard.” Brajon wriggled out of Silver’s grip.

Silver pulled a stick of charcoal from her bag. Her breath came fast. Sagittaria Wonder was the champion, the legend, the best ever . “If I could just get my letter back from Nebekker, I could add one more line … tell her I’m desperate to meet her.”

The water dragon racer coming to her old, dusty city—it seemed impossible. After all, there wasn’t a single body of surface water near Jaspaton, not even one measly stream. But she was coming, and it could be Silver’s opportunity to seize her dream. What if Silver could somehow convince her parents to let her see Sagittaria? And Silver could convince Sagittaria to take a certain hopeful racer back to the city of Calidia? She would do anything to learn from the greatest water dragon racer in the world. Feed Sagittaria’s dragons. Shine their scales. Sweep the floors. Shovel dragon dung, smiling the whole time. She would be the most obedient squire ever.

And then, someday, she would become the new greatest water dragon racer the world had ever known.

Down on the desert floor, a wagon flap had come loose, and the trader was shouting at the winds. Silver’s heartbeat quickened. There was still time. “Nebekker, please. My letter.”

The old woman startled, as though she’d fallen asleep while reading.

“How often do you write these fan letters?” Nebekker said, sounding disgruntled.

“Whenever there’s a trader headed to Calidia,” Silver said. Like now , she wanted to say. But she kept her mouth shut. Not even urgency could make her be rude to an elder.

“For the past two years,” Brajon piped up.

“Gawp glop,” the chicken added.

“And how many times have you told her about”—Nebekker pointed to a line—“‘the strange old yarnslady from no one knows where’?”

“Never! I mean, only this once.” Silver’s face flushed. “I’ve already told her about everyone else I know, so that’s … you’re … all that was left.”

Nebekker looked at Silver for a long time. The old woman’s eyes were green. Opaque, like jade. Different from the glittering brown quartz eyes that most people in Jaspaton had. When Nebekker’s stare became too uncomfortable to hold, Silver dropped her gaze.

“I’m sorry I called you strange,” Silver whispered.

Brajon couldn’t keep back a snort. Silver nudged him hard and peeked up through her lashes, but even Nebekker’s eyes flashed with amusement before growing solemn again.

“I know a way you could get Sagittaria Wonder’s attention,” Nebekker said. “And it’s not with these silly fan letters.” Without waiting for a response, the old woman swept down the road.

A delicious chill raced down Silver’s back. A strong wind whipped her clothing and sent spirals of dust into the air. Without thinking, she raced after the old yarnslady. “What do you mean?” she asked breathlessly as she caught up.

“Come see me this evening, after the last lantern is lit. I’ll teach you what you need to know. I’ll show you how to make a water dragon racing suit to impress even the great Sagittaria Wonder.”

Silver’s mouth dropped open. “You know how to make riding suits?”

“Soon you will, too.” Nebekker disappeared up a shadowy staircase.