had rasped, her dark eyes flashing dangerously.
When he got to language arts, Airlia still wasn’t satisfied with his attempts at rehearsing his sonnets. “Your voice is so,” she paused, looking for the right word, “soporific, Lucian; as though you were merely speaking of the weather. You need to really feel the words as you say them. Show some emotion. Let the love you feel for your princess enrich your tones and soften your edges.”
On and on the day dragged going from bad to worse until Lucian was bottling up so much pent-up frustration that the others were afraid he might explode if they said hello to him. When Draconus began dragon fighting, Lucian was more than ready for his turn to fight the dragon. As though Draconus sensed his eagerness, he seemed to drag out some of the other fights longer than normal, baiting the princes with taunts and his usual snide comments.
“Well, I believe that leaves you, young princeling,” Draconus sneered. “Let’s see if you have improved at all or if you’re as pathetic as your classmates.”
Lucian entered the pit with his armor on and his sword ready. Draconus usually made the first move, leaving the princes constantly on the defensive. This time, though, Lucian was ready for him. He sprang into action, not really taking consideration of where Draconus was or what he was doing. At first the dragon seemed surprised, but soon began to anticipate Lucian’s moves. “You’re angry, princeling. That’s good for me, but dangerous for you,” Draconus warned. “Perhaps you’re feeling sorry for your beastly friend. You should be happy for him. He would never survive a real battle.”
Lucian continued to rage on, the ringing sound of sword against scales seeming to echo in the room. For what seemed hours he tried to reach the soft spot that would bring an end to the battle. Each time he thought he was close, Draconus would move with lightning speed, removing the opportunity almost as soon as it was there.
“And your little green friend would be easy to defeat,” Draconus hissed. “No spine at all.”
Furious already, Lucian charged the dragon; narrowly avoiding being knocked down by a sideswipe of Draconus’ tail. “He’s braver than any boy here and has more spine than you have,” he snarled as he brought his sword crashing against Draconus’ belly. Sparks flew from the impact and Draconus curled around with a blast of fiery breath. Blocking it with his shield, Lucian found the spot he was looking for and thrust his sword between the dragon’s arm and body. Everyone gasped and he hissed in dragon, “You’re dead, Draconus.”
His eyes narrowed to barely slits and smoke rose in tendrils from his nostrils. “You speak well, for a human,” he replied, speaking also in dragon. “But, you got lucky, princeling.”
“That wasn’t luck,” Lucian retorted, his accent clear and pronunciation perfect. “That was vengeance. Leave Kaelen and Adrian out of your commentary. Only a coward preys on the defenseless.”
Hissing angrily, Draconus said, “Watch your tongue, Prince Lucian. It could well be the death of you.” He then rose and turned his attention to the awestruck classroom. “Well, we’ve had one success among dozens of failures. Class is dismissed.” He watched Lucian as he left the room.
“Draconus,” Vulcan asked as the boys were leaving, “did you let him win?”
“When in the last three thousand years have I ever allowed a princeling to win?” Draconus snarled. “No, I did not allow him a victory. He managed to sneak past me.”
“More than that,” Vulcan added, “he put you on the defensive. Few of our students have reached that stage this quickly.”
“I am well aware of that. I’m the one who gets defeated, remember?”
“I realize that, Draconus. I’m just saying that he was very angry.”
“Angry, yet controlled enough to use it to his advantage,” Draconus said with a hint of respect. “Most humans aren’t capable of controlling their emotions at all. He’ll be dangerous if he ever meets with a dragon in the future.”
“You think so?” Vulcan asked.
Draconus didn’t answer right away. “You are keeping me from my dinner and I’m very hungry. All that fighting turns quite an appetite.” He turned and walked through the large gate into the cave-like lair underneath the castle.
Vulcan considered the conversation he’d just had with Draconus as he left the room. He also considered what he had watched during the class period. When Lucian had first begun the fight, it was without any sort of plan or rhythm. He was just hitting in anger and hoping to get lucky. For having no actual plan, he’d done very well. Then something had changed; he had gotten himself into a rhythm and had managed to begin anticipating Draconus’ moves. Scratching his chin thoughtfully, Vulcan left the dragon fighting classroom and headed to Calista’s office. Upon entering, he said, “I need to talk to you about Lucian’s schedule next year.”
“Anything wrong?” Calista asked. “We’re still planning on him having the class.”
“No, nothing’s wrong,” he replied. “But I was wondering if he could be added to the double portion of dragon fighting with George.”
“Really? Why the sudden change?”
Vulcan related what had happened during the class and Draconus’ response. “I think a double portion would be of great benefit to Lucian.”
“That’s highly unusual. You don’t normally have fourth-year boys capable of defeating Draconus,” she commented.
“No, the last time was Prince Martin and that’s been some years ago.”
“Martin,” she repeated. “Adrian’s father. Yes, I recall he did quite well in your class.”
“All that aside,” he said, “I think Draconus is holding back. He is very put out at having been defeated.”
“I’m sure. Let me talk to him. If you indeed feel that it would be best to put Lucian in a double portion, than perhaps it would be best to consult Draconus.” She rose and they walked down to the classroom. As though walking into her own room, she entered the cave. “Draconus, I’d like a word.”
The dragon glared at her. “What are you doing here?”
“As headmistress I can go where I please, Draconus,” Calista replied, not in the least bothered by his tone and temper. “I need to know what happened this afternoon with Lucian.”
“Why does it matter, Calista? The boy got lucky.”
“From what I understand it was more than merely getting lucky, Draconus,” she said seriously. “It is imperative that I know your opinion on what happened.”
“Well, Calista,” he sneered, “it would appear you’ve already been told about it. I haven’t the time nor the desire to speak about the class. If you’d like to join my supper, or rather join me for supper, you’re welcome to stay.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Draconus, you are on dangerous ground. I will find out what happened, whether from you or other sources is irrelevant. However you are the most qualified to assist me in understanding the strengths and weaknesses my boys have. Since you are too tired to discuss it with me now, I’ll call on you in a couple weeks. I expect a better reception.” Without waiting for Draconus to have a chance to respond, Calista left the cave, followed by Vulcan. “I hate that dragon,” she said as they moved out of the classroom. “I will consider your request. In two weeks I will come again and see what we can learn from him. If he is still being stubborn, I’ll consult with Maeve.”
The next week flew by in a flurry of homework and late-winter snowstorms. Saturday dawned cold with lightly fluttering snow outside. While some of the boys had hoped that snow would cancel the activities, the princesses arrived perfectly on time. Lucian was glad to see Moira and Allegra. He hugged his sister and smiled as Moira said, “So, you defeated the great dragon, I hear. Congratulations.”
“But I didn’t write to you about the dragon,” he said.
“No, you didn’t. But, George and Jacobi both wrote to their princesses about it and you did tell Allegra.” With a teasing tone she chided, “You really shouldn’t be afraid of telling me things like that. I think it’s wonderful that you were the first in your cla
ss to defeat a dragon. Not many princes get that distinction.”
“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t write to you about that. It had been a rather long day anyway,” he said with an apologetic smile.
“I understand,” she replied. “So how are your other classes going?”
Soon their friends joined them and they all went in to have breakfast together. There was much laughter and chatting until Calista rose and began to announce the schedule for the day. “Due to the weather, we have had to alter our usual festivities just a smidge. There will still be a scavenger hunt; however it will only take place in the castle. Following that activity, we will have a soup and salad luncheon here in the dining hall.” She waved her wand and dozens of lavender pieces of paper flew through the air and into the hands of the princes. Lucian looked over the list. “This is the weirdest scavenger hunt list we’ve ever had,” he said.
“None of these are items,” Clarissa added as the others looked at their lists.
“They’re all assignments or places,” George explained. “Look, there’s the sonnet assignment and here’s an art thing. I’m guessing you ladies are responsible for that one. I haven’t had an art class since my second year. And we have to do them in a specific room. No wonder fourth-year students never win the scavenger hunt.”
“Well, this year it’s even more impossible.” Adrian pointed to the other