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About the Author
The Dragon Empire Excerpt
Dragon Seer
Heather McCorkle
Copyright 2013 Heather McCorkle
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means without written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarities to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. To the extent any real names of individuals, location, or organizations are included in the book, they are used fictitiously and not intended to be taken otherwise.
Some stock images are from Bigstock. Cover and interior design by McCorkle Creations.
ONE
~*~
An urgency that Ashanti didn’t quite understand pushed legs that were not her own faster across the frozen landscape. With each step that sank deep into the snow, her heart pounded harder. This inefficient human form wasn’t made for traveling across such terrain. But she had to wear the guise. If one of her kind was caught outside of their lands the punishment could be severe. That thought was enough to keep her confined within her borrowed form.
Wind howled across the white hills, tugging at the fur cloak that she wore, whipping it out behind her. Though this exposed her midriff to the subzero temperature, she scarcely felt it. Beneath the body she was still herself, still governed by the laws of nature that applied to her kind. Cold was natural to her, comforting. Too bad nothing else about this situation was.
As she squeezed her eyes shut, she saw bodies upon the snow, men, women, even a baby, lying in pools of blood, bodies torn to shreds. An entire trading party. If only she could see how, why. But it didn’t work that way. All she knew was that she had to save the baby. The details weren’t clear, but she knew that failure would mean a bleak future involving dragons, the races of people, and a terrible war. She felt it so strongly that it pulled at her very being.
Pushing her shoulders back, she stood taller and trudged on ward. The squeak of snow and the steady rhythm of her breathing were the only sounds that broke the stillness of the day. Perhaps she was wrong, perhaps there would be no slaughter. Maybe it was a dream, a delusion after all. She was nearly convinced to turn around and go home, when she crested a hill and caught the scent of blood upon the wind.
Every muscle in her tensed. It took the last ounce of control she had not to whisper the word that would break the magic that held her in this body. She didn’t dare risk it, not when she was unsure of what awaited her on the other side of the hill.
This shouldn’t be happening to her. Her birth status dictated that she was of the artist class, not the seers. But she couldn’t deny the horror playing through her mind. It was a vision for sure. Innocent blood would stain the snow if she didn’t stop it. And there wasn’t a soul she could tell unless she wanted to end up under the care of the clergy class who would think her insane. That meant she had to handle this on her own. Her stomach clenched so hard it bent her over.
How could she stop such a thing? More to the point, why should she? To interfere in the dealings of people was forbidden. She would be exiled if she was discovered. As she trudged forward, she wondered if the vision had only been a waking dream, a figment of her overactive imagination stirred by her desire to be something important. Yes, that was it. She was no seer. She couldn’t be. Birthright was not such a fickle thing to be changed at the whim of nature. The only way to prove it was to see what lay over the hill. Part of her still insisted that the object of her vision lay just over it. Her eyes flicked up to where the rolling white hills met the light blue sky. Squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath, she pushed on through the snow.
A high-pitched scream broke the stillness of the winter day. Another followed it, and another. Grunts and battle cries echoed on the wind. The language was elven, just as her vision had predicted. She ran up the hill. Her borrowed form sank so deep into the snow that every step took precious seconds. Her vision was real, and she was going to be too late. Agonizingly long moments later, she burst atop the hill.
The valley that stretched below held a scene of carnage that turned even her iron predator’s stomach. A small wagon was overturned, flames devouring its canvas covering. The two horses tethered to it lie still in a pool of their own blood and entrails, huge bites taken out of the poor creatures. Five elven bodies lay near the wagon. Their blood stained the snow. Long hair the color of starlight streamed out behind an elven woman as she ran from the carnage, a bundle clutched to her chest. A large shadow darkened the snow behind her, gaining on her with each step.
Ashanti didn’t want to look, but she had to. Her eyes were drawn to the sky above the elven woman. Blue scales covered a lean body with grasping forelegs and powerful hind legs that were poised to grab its prey. A long tail with spikes thrust out from the end whipped behind the creature’s body, steering it upon the unpredictable air currents so low to the ground. Leathery wings beat a steady rhythm, blowing plumes of snow toward the fleeing elf. An elongated snout filled with fangs that were bared was perched upon a neck that was nearly as long as the creature’s tail.
“A dragon? No. That’s not possible,” Ashanti murmured.
As the dragon dove for the woman, Ashanti’s paralysis broke. The something deep inside her that knew things she shouldn’t have been able to know, propelled her forward. She had to save the child in that woman’s arms. Tearing at the ties of her cloak, she threw it open wide and let it fall to the ground. She kicked out of her boots, pulled her simple dress up over her head and plunged down the hill. The cold hair felt wonderful on her bare skin, even better when she let go of that skin and allowed her true form to emerge.
Wings unfurling, she kicked off the hillside with her powerful hind legs and took to the air. Long emerald-hued neck stretched out before her, she bellowed a challenge to the offending blue dragon in their native tongue. The blue’s head shot her way and it blanched. Wings beating hard, it turned to flee. Flexing the muscles and nerves within that activated her breath weapon, Ashanti opened her jaws wide and spat a crackling line of white lightning toward the blue. The blue dodged to right. Soft sizzling was followed by the stench of burning scales.
Before she could get close enough to get a good look at its face, the blue whipped around with a tilt of one wing. It went after the elven woman again. She looked over her shoulder, and went sprawling into the snow. She arched her back and hunched her shoulders, protecting the babe in her arms as best she could with her small frame. The blue’s viciously spiked tail slammed into the woman’s back, eliciting a scream. Again the dragon swung, striking her in the side, before beating its wings hard and rising higher into the air. By the time Ashanti reached the elven woman, the blue was only a speck against the distant sky.
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