Robin McKinley - Fire - Tales of Elemental Spirits

The overnight dew had laid the dust, and the road before us was cool and white in the dawn fog. It looked, I don’t know, magical somehow, like it was going to lead us to some great adventure. Not to a First Flight where one of the dragons would be left behind. The one my brother was with.

I’ve already said that Dag and I didn’t talk much but that last day it was like his silence had a wall around it, that even if I had said anything my words would have bounced off like arrows against a shield. I wouldn’t even have known that we’d get to Clare today except that I’d heard one of the ostlers the night before telling someone’s groom that Clare was less than a league away and they’d get there in a morning even if the roads were crowded. That and Dag’s barricaded silence told me we were close. I wanted to ask him what he wanted Sippy and me to do when we got there. I didn’t think he’d want to bring us into the Academy grounds—his dim little brother and his dim little brother’s defective pet foogit. He had enough to deal with. I started worrying all over again about why we were there at all. It was stupid to think that Sippy and I could do anything but make Dag’s humiliation more complete. But Ralas wasn’t stupid. And even Dad—even Mum—had seemed to think it wasn’t a bad idea. Take care of Dag? How?

But here I was. Why hadn’t Ralas told me what I was supposed to do?

The road was busy, but not so busy it slowed us down. Also I’m sure Dag speeded up. It was like, we’re here, might as well get on with it. I would have preferred a little loitering myself. I don’t know where Clare really began; it all pretty much ran on from the last town. It just got noisier, and there were little roads that branched off from the big road and if you looked down them they were lined with buildings too; and there were a lot of inns, and all their yards were busy. We wouldn’t have been walking till midnight last night after all.

I was getting ready to hang off Dag’s sleeve and bellow in his ear, something about if he’d recommend an inn that wasn’t too expensive but didn’t have too many bedbugs either, Sippy and I would go there and we could meet up later after Dag had checked in or whatever returning cadets did. I’d already put my hand out when I felt Dag stiffen and turned my head to look where he was looking, and saw the big ugly guy in a cadet’s uniform.

But I was too slow, and as I was about to drop back into the crowd so Dag could pretend we had nothing to do with him, Dag grabbed the wrist of the hand I hadn’t pulled away fast enough. The big ugly cadet walked straight up to us and to my surprise his face broke into an enormous smile. This wasn’t necessarily an improvement—too many teeth—but he thumped Dag on both shoulders like they were best friends and I saw Dag was smiling too, if more restrainedly, but that might have just been from being thumped.

Big and Ugly now turned to me and if he was thinking ʺWho is this gnome and what is this vermin with him?ʺ (Sippy was attached to my leg again; this town was even bigger and busier than yesterday’s), it didn’t show. ʺThis is my brother, Ern,ʺ Dag said, and then Big and Ugly thumped my shoulders too and this sure made my smile feel strained. ʺAnd this is Eled,ʺ Dag continued. ʺHe—he’s on for First Flight too.ʺ

ʺThat’s right,ʺ Eled said. ʺYou know your brother showed us all up, don’t you? He’s taking First Flight a year early.ʺ

I glanced at Dag but the smile was still fixed in place.

Sippy from behind me was craning his long neck toward Eled, or anyway Eled’s trousers. Foogits’ nostrils are like gathered or pleated, and foogits make the most revolting noise when they blow out through them to clear the way for new smells, and he was doing it a lot lately, because of the extra town smells, I suppose. But he sounded like he had at least forty nostrils when he did it now. Eled glanced down. It was a long way down for him so maybe he really hadn’t noticed Sippy before. ʺClear skies and great dragons,ʺ he said. ʺIt’s a little dragon. He yours?ʺ

Nobody calls foogits little dragons except in folk tales. Eled had to have been being sarcastic, but I couldn’t hear him doing it, so I muttered, ʺHis name’s Sippy.ʺ

ʺHey, Sippy,ʺ he said, and offered his hand to be snuffled, which was gallant of him. Sippy came out from behind my legs and tried to frolic, which is what he usually does when he’s decided he’s made a new friend, but there wasn’t room, so he banged into all our knees in turn a couple of times and subsided with a wounded look at the hurrying passers-by who were cramping his style. Eled laughed. It was a nice laugh.

ʺI’ve never heard anyone call a foogit a little dragon,ʺ Dag said, who knew the same folk tales that I did.

ʺDidn’t your dad ever—ʺ Eled broke off, looking embarrassed. I’d already noticed that Eled didn’t have the manner of a carpenter’s son.

ʺEled’s dad is a dragonrider,ʺ Dag said calmly to me.

ʺAnd my mum’s oldest brother and four of my cousins,ʺ Eled said, grinning again. ʺAnd both granddads and all four of their granddads. My dad has two brothers and two sisters. And all of their first sons went to the Academy. And three of their daughters. And one second and one third son. I’m the youngest first son in this generation—and I have four older sisters, and one of them is a dragonrider too. I had the worst childhood you can imagine.ʺ

I didn’t mean to laugh, but I did, and for the first time since Dag had come home and told us about Hereyta, some part of me I couldn’t name stopped feeling quite so gloomy.

Eled looked pleased, and even Dag’s smile softened a little.

ʺIs everyone else here?ʺ said Dag.

ʺPretty much,ʺ said Eled. ʺA few of you with a long way to come are still on the road.ʺ

A long way to come trailing extra cargo, I thought. And can’t afford coach fare. Not that any coach would take a foogit.

Dag nodded.

After an uncomfortable little pause Eled said to me, ʺMost of us First Flighters get back early from this break. We can’t stay away. Everybody else turns up at the last minute like normal. First Flight itself happens first day of term. We’re supposed to get back one day before to check our gear over one last time, not like we didn’t leave it in blisteringly perfect order, and to look our dragons over too, but the dragonmasters have been doing that while we’re on leave a lot better than us dumb cadets can. A lot of the dragonmasters say that we shouldn’t be allowed to come back early, because we fret the dragons. Most Academy dragons take First Flight every year.ʺ

Dag’s silence was getting louder and louder.

Abruptly Eled added, ʺI’m hungry. Let’s go back to halls and get something to eat.ʺ

They set off but I just stood there. Sippy started to follow them and then stopped when I didn’t move, looking at me and them and back at me again.

ʺCome on then,ʺ said Eled, ʺno reason to block traffic,ʺ as a great rumbling cart went by and Sippy shied into me so violently he nearly knocked me down.

ʺI—er—Sippy and I will go to an inn if you’ll tell us which one,ʺ I said. ʺI mean, cheap.ʺ

ʺNot necessary,ʺ said Eled. ʺNobody does it much lately but in my dad’s day First Flighters always brought someone from home to see them off. It’s good luck.ʺ

ʺNot foogits,ʺ I said, stubbornly standing where I was. I held on to a handful of Sippy’s ear to make him stand still. This would work for approximately two minutes but was good for emergencies.

ʺNonsense,ʺ Eled replied. ʺExactly what they are is lucky.ʺ

Maybe fool’s luck, I thought. Maybe sometimes that’s good luck.

ʺMy aunt keeps foogits,ʺ said Eled. ʺI’ve always liked ’em. I miss having ’em around at the Academy.ʺ