“And then there are people like Ferdie,” Mikkel said, grinning.
“He’s studying medicine,” Ellukka said, “so he could just be learning in the infirmary. He does go there a lot, in fact.”
“Right,” Anders said remembering what Bryn had said the first time he’d been introduced to the Finskólars. “But everyone who meets him, they like him. Ferdie could end up accidentally ruling the world, he’s so charming, so maybe Leif wants to make sure he turns out to be a good person, just in case.”
“Exactly,” Mikkel said. “In Ellukka’s case, she’s such a good storyteller that I think Leif wants to be sure she turns out to be a good person, too. Stories are powerful, they can sway people to believe all kinds of things, todoall kinds of things.”
“Of course I’m a good person,” Ellukka said, with a huff. “The best.”
“Well, whether they belong with us or not, Nico and Krissin are making this very difficult,” Lisabet said.
“Agreed,” Anders said. “We’ve already got the Dragonmeet looking over our shoulders, we don’t need more watchers.”
Anders had hoped they’d be studying independently that morning, so he could work on the riddle with at least some of the others, but yet again, luck was against him.
“Good morning,” said Leif, as soon as they entered. He had the two youngest members of the Dragonmeet with him—Saphira and Mylestom. Anders saw now what he’d missed when the Dragonmeet was gathered around the table in the Great Hall—Saphira used a wheeled chair like others he’d seen in Holbard. There was a knob on each wheel, so she could grab it and turn it, and she wore brown fingerless gloves to protect her palms. She and Mylestom—she round-cheeked and smiling, he lanky, straight-backed, and serious—had taken up places by Leif’s desk.
“This morning,” said Leif, “we are going to have an unusual lesson. Although it’s not often discussed, we’re going to talk through the events that led up to the last great battle.” A small murmur went through the classroom, and he inclined his head to acknowledge their surprise. “With all that’s currently happening, I feel you should know more. Even the oldest of you were children then, and the reasons for it were not simple. Ellukka, can you tell the class the first and most important rule of historical stories?”
Ellukka nodded. “There are at least two sides to every story, and usually a lot more than that. So you should look for the sides you don’t know, and then ask yourself why you didn’t hear them.”
“Exactly,” said Leif. “So we will tell you our version of this story, but as we do, I want you to remember Ellukka’s rule. If you see another way the story might be told, speak up.”
They all nodded, and Anders glanced over at Nico and Krissin, who were already glaring at him, as if they were preparing to hold him personally responsible for everything the wolves were about to do wrong in this story. But he was curious as well—he’d always been told the dragons simply attacked one day, and Leif was making it sound like there was more to it than that.
“Ten years ago,” Leif began, “the youngest of you—Anders, Rayna, Mikkel, Theo—were only two years old. And the oldest, Patrik and Isabina, were only eight. Back then, the city of Holbard was growing very quickly. The wind arches at the harbor were being repaired. Lisabet, can you tell everyone about the arches?”
“They’re the biggest artifacts on Vallen,” Lisabet said. “They stretch all the way across the harbor mouth, and they make sure that no matter how windy or stormy it is outside, inside the harbor it’s always calm. They’re the reason so many people from all over the world come to Vallen to trade.”
“Just so,” Leif agreed. “A pair of wolf designers called Hayn and Felix had been working with one of our dragonsmiths, Drifa, and her team, to repair the arches.”
Ferdie raised his hand. “You mean dragons were there in Holbard, workingwiththe wolves?”
“Exactly,” said Leif. “There were disagreements, and we were two very different groups, but this is not just the story of the last great battle. It’s the story of how we dragons stopped working in Holbard. How we stopped working together with the wolves.” He paused, to let the murmurs around the classroom die down, then continued. “The arches were already very old, and had begun to let in gusts sometimes, endangering ships. Repairing them was a very difficult job, and it required a great deal of fine detail. We had to pause regularly to research, to discuss the best next steps, and to consider our work.”
“I can think of a different way to tell that,” Rayna said, raising her hand. Leif nodded, and she continued. “The wind arches are important,” she said. “If they’re not working, food doesn’t get into Holbard. And ships don’t. People need what’s on those ships to make a living, and just to survive. To dragons, it’s important to discuss everything forever and ever—” She paused as Saphira laughed, and even Mylestom covered his mouth with one hand. “Sorry, but it’s true.”
“It’s true,” Saphira agreed. “We’re the newest members of the Dragonmeet, and we’re learning all about long discussions.”
“Well,” said Rayna. “Maybe dragons felt like they were doing it the best way they could. But maybe the wolves, and the people in Holbard, felt like the dragons were deliberately taking their time. Sometimes it’s hard to understand what the delay is.”
Anders fiddled with the stack of papers on the desk in front of him—some of Isabina’s mechanical drawings—and straightened them one by one, though there was no need to do it. These were his and Rayna’s parents they were talking about. Felix and Drifa. Working together on the arch.
“Very good, Rayna,” said Leif. “Whether you’re right or wrong, I do not know, but this is a perfectly valid point of view. I wish we could think so clearly about what happened next. Somebody, we don’t know who, murdered one of the wolf designers, Felix.”
A gasp went around the room, and Anders bowed his head. It was so hard to hear it said so simply, and pretend it was only a story to him too. Hayn had said that he, Anders, looked like Felix, but he wondered what he had been like. If he had been loud and confident like Rayna, or quiet and thoughtful like Anders. What kinds of things he’d have shown the twins if he’d had a chance to raise them.
If Anders had a chance to speak to Hayn again, he’d ask him.
“That’s sad,” Bryn said, “that he was killed. But what does it have to do with the battle?”
“Ah,” said Leif, his usually friendly face turning grim. “The same day Felix was killed, the dragonsmith Drifa was seen flying away from where his body was found.”
“She killed him,” said Bryn slowly.
“Or,” said Lisabet, “she was running away from the person who killed him.”
Every head in the room turned toward her, but Anders glanced up at Leif and found the Drekleid gazing thoughtfully back.
