Scaled Soul (Dragon Academy Book 1)

by Gage Lee

  Nearly a hundred feet high and twenty-feet wide at its top, the scaled wall had been built after the third great war between dragons and eldwyr. The Scaled Council had ordered the walls be raised to protect their kingdoms from being overwhelmed by the cursed wilderness that encroached with unnatural speed. The walls held back the ferocious growth and provided a secure border line between the chaotic growth on the outside and a stable, orderly society on the inside. To many of the keep's residents, the barrier represented safety from whatever lurked outside the keep.

  To Taun, that safety felt more and more like a prison.

  Because the wyld was no longer growing. Like the walled fields worked by his father’s landsmen, the forest had gone stagnant and still. Its ancient trees still towered over the wilderness, but new growth had come to a stop.

  Or, so the scouts reported to his father.

  The world was changing, and not for the better.

  Taun leaned against one of the crenellations that had once given cover to defensive archers. Five hundred years ago, an entire garrison of soldiers had manned this wall. They'd watched for the eldwyr, strange hybrid creatures out of nightmare that legends said were equal parts plant and animal. An illustration Taun had once seen showed a tall, slender figure standing atop a tree that had grown right up into its legs. The image had haunted the young man for years. But, unlike those guards who had once watched over the wall, Taun had nothing to fear.

  If the eldwyr had survived their last war against the dragons, they'd gone into hiding far from the lands of men. For hundreds of years, the dragon-built walls had waited to repel an enemy who'd never appeared.

  “Axaranth's Folly,” Taun said, remembering the name of the dragon who'd spearheaded the construction effort after the last war. How much time and effort had the dragons and the humans they commanded wasted building defenses when they'd already defeated their enemies?

  And it wasn't just the walls. Axaranth had ordered men and other dragons around, commanding them to do his bidding like a child pushing pieces across a game board. The ancient dragon's work had filled the world with massive, pointless construction projects. The walls that encompassed the entire border of the great Scaled Empire. Massive watchtowers that loomed over empty stretches of land like statues to forgotten gods. Devastating weapons that had, over the centuries since their construction, been slowly dismantled by the dragons who’d descended from Axaranth and the other great warriors of his age.

  With no eldwyr in sight, there was no need for engines of destruction. The dragons who now ruled this mighty empire had raised taxes, year after year after year, until the border keeps and the honorblades who oversaw them could no longer maintain standing armies. Even the Ruby Blade Keep, a frontier stronghold deep within the territory once held by the eldwyr, had fewer than a hundred guardsmen. And most of those were barely trained landsmen who only responded to emergencies.

  Taun had been breathing pneuma in, letting it flow out, as he thought of the empire’s troubled history. Something foul had reached his nostrils just then, a smell not of rot or decay but...he couldn't put his finger on it. His eyes roamed the forest beyond the scaled wall, taking in the towering trees and the deep shadows beneath them. The horrific odor had set his hackles on end. There was a familiarity to that alien scent that unnerved him. His eyes roamed the world beyond the wall in search of the stench's source. There was nothing on the ground that would explain it.

  Look up. Quickly. The voice in Taun’s thoughts held a note of urgency he’d never heard before.

  Taun’s eyes snapped up toward the sky and stopped at the forest's canopy.

  Something was in the trees, watching him.

  No. Not some thing.

  Things.

  A dozen or more creatures had emerged from the cover of the gray needles at the top of the mighty ironpine trees. The figures were short, but lanky, their arms and legs far too long for their bodies. The weight of their attention pressed against Taun's nerves, like pins just about to break the skin. Even at this distance, he felt their scorn and hatred against his thoughts. They watched him for a moment longer, eyes flashing in the sun, and then the trees swallowed them up as if they'd never been there at all.

  The smell came again, raw and primal, the musk of a hunting beast on the prowl. A faint memory from Taun's childhood pulled its way up from the deep recesses of his mind. He'd been hiding behind his father's legs when the emissary from the capital landed. The dragon, fifty feet from tail to snout, had shown the humans a smile. But in the moment before it had shed its massive form for one more suitable to dealing with humans, Taun had been overwhelmed by its scent.

  That's what drifted on the breeze.

  The smell of a dragon.

  Yes, man-child. A dragon. The familiar voice had a dangerous edge to it now. It had never spoken so clearly, or at such length before. And if you wish to survive, a dragon you will heed. The eldwyr have returned. They will scramble down from those trees and find your people. They will crack their limbs open and plant their seeds in the marrow. They will grow roots in their minds.

  The power of those words rocked Taun back on his heels. Their undeniable authority made it impossible for him to disbelieve the impossible. The voice in his head belonged to a dragon, and he’d been talking to it for years. “What should I do?”

  Find me in the wyld before it’s too late. You are east of me, man-child. If you hurry, we might still save your family.

  Taun didn't hesitate to follow the dragon's commands. The power of the thoughts that had invaded his mind was terrible, but the monsters he'd seen in the trees had filled him with an existential dread. Taun would have thrown himself into an open smelter if the dragon had told him it was the only way to save his family from those horrors.

  “What's your name?” Taun called.

  Axaranth the Terrible, last of the great dragons.

  Chapter 2

  TAUN LOOKED DOWN OVER the crenellations, his heart pounding like a galloping horse. A wave of nausea washed over him as the dragon repeated its command.

  Jump. It is the only way to reach me in time to save your family.

  “Jumping to my death doesn't seem helpful,” Taun said.

  Keep your breath smooth and even. Channel water pneuma to slow your fall.

  “I can't,” Taun said. “I don't know how.”

  Axaranth snarled in Taun's thoughts. Your king has failed you, man child. If you cannot do it for yourself, let me do it for you.

  The dragon's presence grew in Taun's mind. It swelled through his thoughts like a burning shadow. Panic washed over the young knight. He felt like he was drowning in the dragon's essence.

  “Stop,” Taun barked. He pushed back against Axaranth and was relieved when the dragon's mind receded. “Tell me what to do.”

  Despite the horror that had gripped Taun at the sight of the eldwyr and his confusion over the dragon's invasion, Taun felt a surge of giddy hope. If the dragon thought a human could channel pneuma, then it had to be possible. And now Taun had the greatest teacher he could have hoped for.

  I am no tutor. Do what I say. And you will likely survive.

  “Likely survive?” Taun asked incredulously.

  Nothing is guaranteed. But do not fear death. If you perish, I will animate your corpse and use it as an instrument of vengeance. You will be a heroic myth to light the dark nights of your people.

  Taun's thoughts raced. He did not like the sound of any of this. But the feeling the eldwyr had left in his thoughts, the absolute terror, reminded him that his family needed him to be strong and brave right now. He was the only hope they had.

  “You'll save my family if I die?” Taun asked.

  You have my word. I will do my level best to destroy the eldwyr before they can harm anyone. Are you ready? Time is short.

  “What do I do?” Taun asked.

  Breathe in, then jump. Stay close to the wall. Direct short bursts of pneuma through one hand to push yourself closer to the wall, and l
onger bursts from the other into the wall to slow your descent. I will be there to aid you if your strength is insufficient. It should work at this distance.

  “Should?” Taun's stomach curdled. He shook his head. This was no time to be a coward. If his death would save his family, that was a worthy sacrifice. The Ruby Blade Keep needed its master more than it needed a fifteen-year-old youngest son.

  He pushed back his screaming survival instincts, clambered up onto the wall between crenellations, and stepped off the edge.

  THE PNEUMA TAUN HAD inhaled coiled inside a space at the center of his being. It felt impossibly small, little more than a wisp of mystic smoke. But he did as the dragon commanded and pushed it out of him at an angle that he hoped would drive him into the wall while simultaneously driving it into the stones beside and below him.

  A purple haze emerged from Taun's nostrils and mouth. The wind of his fall immediately tore the gauzy light apart.

  And still Taun fell.

  Let me save your life, man-child. You are more use to me alive than dead.

  “Do it!” Taun shouted.

  A wave of turbulent confusion blasted through Taun's thoughts. The dragon entered his mind like a hurricane and seized control. Taun's lungs ached as the dragon forced them to inhale far deeper than the young knight had ever managed on his own. Pneuma, cold and damp as a winter's fog, filled his lungs. Fluid strength rushed down his arms and legs, then burst free of his body in streams of vivid azure light.

  Taun watched, enthralled by what the dragon had done. The water pneuma slammed into the wall in a narrow beam that pushed the knight up and away from the wall. A wider spray from the opposite direction shoved him back toward the fortifications. The friction from the opposing forces slowed Taun's falling speed from instantly fatal to merely bone-crushing. The pneuma flowed through him with incredible force that sent spirals of pain ripping through Taun's body. He felt bruised from the inside out.

  You have neglected your training. Let this pain be a reminder of your failing.

  “No one's trained me to do any of this!” Taun protested, anger and fear wresting some control of this mind back from the dragon.

  More pneuma washed through his body, slowing the knight's fall even further. The dragon didn't respond to Taun until they were safely back on the ground.

  You have suffered more damage than I had anticipated. Your body is not suited for channeling pneuma. Take a moment to recover before your heart bursts.

  Taun groaned and nearly sank to the ground. His bones ached like a rotten tooth, and his muscles were as rung out as if he'd spent a dozen hours hammering steel hot from the forge. More frightening than those aches and pains were the sharp stabs that flared every time his heart beat. The young knight wanted to take a three- or four-day nap, but only gave himself three breaths. His family needed him.

  “Where are you?” Taun asked the dragon in his thoughts. His voice as shaky from the combination of exhaustion and the rush of adrenaline triggered by his suicidal step from the top of the wall.

  Your determination is commendable, man-child. I lie to the west. The eldwyr are closing in on me. And your family.

  “Warn me if I get too close to the monsters,” Taun whispered.

  Then he took off through the forest as fast as his legs could manage. His knees wobbled with every step, but Taun braced himself against the trees he passed and kept on moving. If he fell, he'd crawl. And if he couldn't crawl, he'd drag himself through the forest by his fingernails. Stopping while his family was in danger was not an option.

  As powerful as his father and siblings were, none of them stood a chance against the eldwyr. Those ancient horrors had powers men could scarcely imagine. They'd been so terrifying the dragons had resorted to terrible measures to stop their encroachment. Known as the Roils, the horrible rituals used by the dragons churned the very seas of creation to drive back the eldwyr. The Third Roil, in particular, had sent a wave of destruction through the infinite worlds that filled even the dragons with dread at what they’d done.

  There is no need to exaggerate. We did what had to be done to save our lives and the lives of our subjects. Were it not for my Roil engines, this world would have fallen. You exist because of me. Some might say that means your life is mine to use as I please.

  Taun ignored that and continued his mad scramble through the forest. He swiveled his head left and right, up and down, searching for any eldwyr. Legend said those creatures could travel through the roots of trees and spring up without warning. The young knight did not want to run into one of those. He'd left the sage's tower with only a dagger for defense, and he didn't fancy his odds of defending himself with that. If he'd only had time to gather his armor, maybe a horse. A thought occurred to him.

  “Why didn't you reach out to my father?” Taun asked. “Or my brothers or sisters? They were already out here. It would have been faster to use them than me.”

  Surely you do not believe you were my first choice, man-child. For years I searched for a suitable host. Sadly, you were the only one who understood my words.

  Taun wanted to let out a triumphant shout. His studies had paid off. He couldn't wait to tell Shaus and Raul how wrong they were about the importance of learning the draconic runes.

  Yes, your achievements are incredible. You are as accomplished as a dragon whelp of five winters. Very impressive. Eldwyr to your left.

  Taun wanted to tell the dragon that almost no human knew how to read draconic runes, but the creature's last words froze his tongue to the roof of his mouth. He angled his course to the right, darting between the boles of ancient trees bigger around than he was tall. He took a quick glance through the forest to his left and nearly froze in his tracks.

  A group of eldwyr slipped through the woods as effortlessly as a spring breeze. Their bodies were thin and flexible as saplings. They bounded from tree trunk to tree trunk, sparks of green light flaring from their root-like feet with every leap. Yellow light flowed up from the ground and swirled around their legs, filling them with the strength of the earth. There were far more of them than Taun could count.

  “I can't defeat that many,” Taun whispered.

  I can. But only if you hurry. The time for stealth is gone. Run fast. Find me here.

  Taun picked up the pace, no longer worried about hiding from the eldwyr. Images of a metal tower rising up through the forest floor filled his mind. It was taller than the scaled wall, taller even than Sage Lantan's towering spire. A scorching silver light poured from an enormous sphere at its top, casting long shadows past the trees that surrounded it. Taun had never seen anything like that in all the time he'd spent looking out over the wyld from the top of the keep's wall.

  Impossible. You are close. You should see it any minute. When you reach me, we will activate the tower's defenses and annihilate our enemies. The cursed eldwyr cannot stand against the might of an elemental cannon.

  Taun wanted to believe in the dragon, but his confidence wavered. If the dragon had its hopes pinned on a tower that Taun had never seen, things were about to get very ugly.

  Just run.

  The next minutes stretched out into an eternity of fear. The eldwyr seemed to appear out of thin air behind Taun. They laughed at his clumsy run, their voices rasping against his ears like bare boughs rubbing together in a winter's wind. The young knight knew they could catch him whenever they wanted. The dark creatures were toying with him, drawing out his fear and reveling in the thrill of the chase.

  Taun had never wanted to kill anything before.

  But he wanted those eldwyr dead.

  Left. A hundred feet. Hurry!

  The tinge of panic in the dragon's thoughts lit a fire under Taun's heels. He leapt over a fallen log, skidded under a low-hanging branch, and sprang back to his feet. He drew in deep breaths, scrambling to hang onto the pneuma. He imagined the raw power flowing into his legs. Maybe it was his imagination, but he would have sworn he moved just a little faster. The young knight's world narrowed t
o his footsteps hitting the ground, his lungs filling with air, and the trees flashing past him. He had to be close to Axaranth. Then he'd turn the tables on his enemies.

  You have arrived.

  Taun's boots slid on the fallen leaves that lay in a thick layer across the forest's floor. He turned in a circle. There was nothing here.

  And the eldwyr were close enough for Taun to see the green glow of their eyes through the forest's gloom.

  “There's nothing here,” Taun gasped, sucking air into his aching lungs. “No tower, not even a single stone.”

  The dragon went silent. For a moment, Taun worried the ancient creature had abandoned him to his fate.

  There is a staircase to your right. I cannot explain what happened to the rest of the tower. When I settled in for my final rest, it was a gleaming bastion of my authority.

  Taun knew exactly what had happened to the tower. Axaranth had vanished from the world more than a thousand years ago. Time had eaten his accomplishments.

  But none of that mattered. Taun scanned his surroundings for any signs of a staircase. He'd nearly given up hope when his eyes fell on a narrow slice of shadow between two trees. He raced to it, knowing that his life was over if he was wrong. The eldwyr were too close for second chances.

  “Yes!” Taun shouted when he reached his destination. The shadow was a slot in the earth surrounded by chunks of rubble worn smooth and corroded by exposure to countless seasons. The young knight didn't pause to celebrate his find.

  The steps were slick with patches of moss, and Taun slipped more than once as he hurried down into the ruins. His eyes struggled to adjust to the gloom once he'd left the sun behind. The footing became more uncertain, and soon the knight had to brace himself against the wall to his left as he followed the steps into the darkness.

  Summon a pneuma lantern before you fall and break your neck. I cannot guide you if you cannot see.

  “Sure, sure,” Taun said. “What makes you think I know how to do that?”