The next afternoon after school, Vinga knocked at the door
of Astrid's cottage.
“Greetings Rector,” Skye said. “What brings you?”
“Is Astrid home?” Vinga asked.
“Not yet.”
“Good,” Vinga said. “We need to talk. I worry for your
daughter, Skye.”
Skye gestured Vinga to join her at the fire to sit. “Astrid?
Why, dear?”
“She is inattentive in class and spends all her time with
her sketchbook,” the teacher said. “And that silly little dragon pesters her
constantly. I may have to hold her back a year.”
Furrows appeared on Skye’s brow and creases in the tattoos
around her eyes: semaphores they called
them, patterns of iridescent pigments that changed with the Rider's emotions
and helped them communicate with the dragons. “I know she seems a bit
childish, but I am certain she is learning.”
“I am not so sure,” Vinga said. “Her geography project was
due today but she skipped class.”
“That's not like her,” Skye said.
Vinga continued. “Without knowledge of our geography she
will not be able to navigate the mountains to the neighboring valleys. She
cannot become a Rider,” she said.
Skye only half-listened to Vinga’s lecture, concerned
instead that Astrid had not told her she would be absent from school. “She
never declared to be a Rider,” Skye replied.
“I know,” Vinga said, “but she and that little dragon have
a…special relationship and at the next Choosing—”
“Little Wing is too small to ride,” Skye interrupted.
“Yes, but—”
Astrid’s father, Jorie, stuck his head into the door and
interrupted them. “Skye!” he said with a big grin on his face. “Come, Skye. You
need to see this. Hello, Vinga, you too. Come!” He took them both by the arm
and led them down the cobblestone path to the Manor where the crowd overflowed
into the square.
Skye turned to her husband. “We didn’t hear the bell, what
is the emergency?”
“Over here,” Jorie said and led them through the crowd until
they reached the long north wall of the Manor, the single wall without windows
and shutters that could not be opened to the weather. Everyone there looked at the
wall and in front of it stood Astrid.
The wall was covered from end to end with spring flowers, a
flood of colors and a sea of green. Skye looked closer. A field of green ivy surrounded
a wash of blue hyacinths with a wide stripe of white and gray lisianthus
splitting the green into upper and lower parts. Tiny red, yellow and blue
flower petals stood out from the white and green. Skye and Vinga stared with
open mouths at a map of their entire continent—in flowers. All of the villages of the mountains were
displayed as well as the large countries to the north and south.
Villagers
nudged Skye and Jorie aside to get a closer look. “Is this us here, Inverness?”
one asked pointing to a small blue-bell by the eastern edge of the white
camellias.
Astrid nodded. “And these are Andeer and Briey,” she said.
Her classmate Finn pointed to two neaby flower petals. “And
Winterthur and Vernier here.”
“My cousin lives in Vernier,” Selena said and smiled.
“And Cherryth to the north,” Astrid said pointing to the
bright green spray of leaves that separated the mountains of the Spine from
Suleria displayed in pink carnations and Tur in blood red belladona.
Vinga stared at the map and cocked her head. “There is too
much white,” she said softly and turned to Astrid. “I think Tur is much bigger
than the Northern City States, Astrid.”
“But not as important,” Astrid replied.
A young boy pointed to the big splotch of red to the northeast.
“Really?” he said. “Is Tur really that close?” Tur was the home of the
Quarajii, the barbarian Hordes of their nightmares.
“Yes, Kel,” Skye said.
“That’s scary,” Kel said softly with a frown and stared wide
eyed at the red smear that looked like it would naturally flow south to the
mountains. His smile and those of the other children vanished.
Elder Leana pushed her way to the front of the crowd. “Do
not fear, child. It’s nonsense and not a map. See here,” she said and waived
her arms. “There’s open ocean to the north, and should be blue not white. And
most of the mountains are green and not covered with snow like the map shows.
Take no mind of this foolishness.”
Skye glared at Leana as she studied the map and turned to
Vinga. “If Leana weren’t such a good healer,” Skye said, “we’d not listen to
her at all.”
The boy's mother grabbed him and gave Skye a disapproving
glare.
“Don't fret, now,” she said to the boy, “they cannot enter
the mountains...”
“But what if they do?” the boy asked.
“…And if they do, the Riders will take care of them.”
“But what if…” the boy asked, his voice disappearing into
the crowd as his mother dragged him away by the arm.
Finn leaned over to Astrid. “You might have used a less
dramatic color for Tur,” he said. “No one wants to be reminded how close the
Quarajii live.”
“I’ll grant your
daughter some artistic license here,” Vinga said and shook her head in wonder.
“What is this?” she
asked pointing to a sky-blue carnation on the west coast of the southern
continent.
“I don’t know,” Astrid said, “But something should be
there.”
“Why dear?”
Astrid shrugged. “I don’t know. Something pretty belongs
there.”
Skye smiled and leaned over to Vinga. “Still worried?” she asked.
Vinga pursed her lips and shook her head slowly and Skye continued “It appears
you are a better teacher than you thought,” she said.
“Much better,” Vinga replied, still staring at the map that
showed places she had not taught them about.
...to be continued ...
(c) 2015 B. R. Strong, Jr.
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