A Dragon's Mind: A New Adult Fantasy Dragon Series (The MINATH Chronicles Book 1)

by A. L. Tippett

  Another ad slid onto the screen, this time a collection of wanted notices from local shops. A jeweller was offering a decent price for gold, a local workshop was looking for welding apprentices, and one of the stallholders from the Mandar City Market was chasing animal hides. Sera fingered the blade that always hung at her side and gazed thoughtfully into the distance. She enjoyed hiking and camping on her weekends off, and she desperately needed a break from Tyler.

  As if her thoughts had summoned him, Tyler stepped out of a gunsmith shop across the street. Sera’s heart rate increased as she quickly sought cover. With no other options, she stepped behind the noticeboard and prayed to Ghaia he hadn’t seen her. She didn’t dare peek out in case the movement caught his eye. Having to deal with his grating personality all week was more than enough, she couldn’t bear to see him on weekends too. She started as a finger caught a lock of her hair and tucked it back into place behind her ear.

  “What’s a beautiful and talented Tracker like yourself doing hiding away over here.” Tyler’s voice crept over her skin, leaving her feeling like oil had stained her core.

  “Hunter Tyler,” came her stiff reply.

  “Come on, Sera, no need to be so formal! You and me, babycakes, we’re the best team in the MRO. It’s time we were a team outside of work too.” He slid a hand over her shoulders with too much familiarity and slipped it possessively down to her hip.

  “Don’t touch me, Tyler,” she spat, stepping out of his grasp.

  His grey eyes flashed before he pulled his mask back into place. A friendly smile that failed to reach his eyes put her on edge. He combed his fingers through his sun-kissed hair, styling it carefully before glancing over his shoulder. Sera followed his gaze and realised that the street was empty. A warning shiver raced up her spine. Catching her by surprise, he slammed her body face forward against the noticeboard. The cold bite of a pistol pressed against her back.

  “Don’t test me, Sera. You would be nothing without me. You owe me. If I hadn’t chosen you as my Tracker, you would have been picked last. Your Hunter would have been Vashti. You know she hates you. If you were ever in danger during a mission, she would let you die. You’re lucky I chose you.”

  “Let me go. You’re hurting me.” She could fight her way out of the position if she wanted, but last time she tried that, he had pulled some strings and gotten her suspended from work without pay for a fortnight.

  He pressed himself closer to her, pinning her frame tightly against his, and ran his hands slowly along her body, savouring each curve. He grabbed a fistful of her loose hair and tilted her head toward him. “I can do what I want. I own you.”

  At the sound of the gunsmith’s door opening, he let her go and stepped back. His eyes were stormy as he tugged the front of his jacket closed.

  “See you at the office, babycakes.” He flashed a smile with a silent promise that things weren’t over yet.

  She shuddered uncontrollably as he sauntered down the street. She needed a boiling shower to scrub away the darkness he had left on her soul.

  Chapter Seven

  Opening her eyes after a restless night, Sera lay still on the floor of her prison. She focused on keeping her breathing even as she observed her surroundings, a tactic she had learnt at MINATH to centre herself and remain composed under pressure. The dawn was breaking, the sun’s warmth seeping into the cave, filling her with the hope a new day brings. A moth fluttered nearby and landed on the shadowy side of one of the ribs in front of her. Drops of water fell from the stalactites intermittently, splashing onto the rocky floor. Moss hung in the shadows, untouched by the sunlight. Ants busily marched in line, engrossed in their own little world, without a thought for the plight of the trapped woman. Her eyes darted to the ceiling, having caught a flickering movement above her head; a beautiful honeyeater flitted around the cave. Golden plumage covered the bird’s little body with flecks of jade green under its wings. Its back was a vibrant splash of indigo that she glimpsed as it flitted away from her towards the mouth of the cave where it landed on one of Arius’ four horns. He sat motionless at the lip of the cave, staring east, so still he could have been cast from bronze. The rising sun’s light glinted off his copper scales, emphasising his majesty. With a gentle shake of his head, he dislodged the honeyeater and looked toward her cage. The morning glow threw the spines lining his jaw into sharp relief against the pale sky. Captor or not, he was still a fine specimen of a beast.

  She was startled out of her reverie with a loud grumble from her stomach cramping, eager for breakfast. The cloud of dejection that seeped into her soul last night had abated, replaced by a renewed sense of purpose. She had to escape, if for no other reason than to return to her father. He wouldn’t survive on his own if she died here. He had no one else. Her resolve hardened.

  I won’t let that happen. I won’t give up. I must do everything I can to get back to Dad.

  First, she would eat. Then, she would make an escape plan. Determined, she rolled to her feet, her boots clicking against the bony prison. The dragon stood and turned sharply at the sound and stalked toward her.

  “You didn’t sleep well,” he stated, peering down at her through the ribs. Sera felt very small with his massive body looming over hers and glared at his unsolicited proximity.

  “You would be correct in your assessment,” she snapped back.

  Fear, hunger and exhaustion were making her less tolerant than usual, so she pinched the bridge of her nose and inhaled slowly. It wouldn’t do any good to anger a dragon, no matter how kind he had been so far. She was still his prisoner.

  Arius’ brows pulled down, hooding his eyes as his lips curled up over his teeth. “You would do well to remember who is caring for you, Seraphina.” A low growl slid from between his jaws. “You will need to watch your tone. I am not the only one troubled by your power. Others may not be so forgiving of your outbursts as I.”

  Conciliatory now, she ducked her head and apologised. “I’m just so tired. So much has happened in the last two days. It’s a lot to take in. I’m sorry if I caused offence.”

  His expression softened and he snorted softly in her direction. She had expected his breath to reek of raw meat and death, but it didn’t. A vision of curling up beside a warm fire on a winter’s night after enjoying a hearty meal filled her mind. She shook her head, trying to dispel the feelings of comfort and security he had evoked within her. He was a dragon, and therefore couldn’t be trusted.

  “You are forgiven. As it is, you can catch up on your rest today. I must take my leave of you now. I’m going hunting. I shall return to you tomorrow.” He placed another haunch of meat beside her cage. “I will leave fresh water and more of the venison here, should you wish to eat.” He hesitated before continuing, “Do try not to get into trouble while I’m gone.”

  What? He’s worried about me now? Or is that his way of saying, don’t try to escape? “I don’t think I can cause too much trouble stuck in this cage.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “But thanks for your concern.”

  He snorted. Whether he was annoyed or amused, she couldn’t tell. With that, he leapt into the emptiness and gave an almighty beat of his wings; the powerful backdraught buffeted her body and swirled her auburn hair around her face. By the time she had tucked the errant strands back behind her ears, he had disappeared into the clouds.

  ***

  Her face flushed, her breathing heavy, Sera flopped down onto the floor of her prison. After devouring the meat Arius had left her, the gamey flavour overpowering her tastebuds, she had tried everything she could think of to escape. She had tried to squeeze out between every rib, but all the gaps were too narrow. She had tried to climb every one of the bones of her cage but the moisture from the cave made them too slick for her to gain purchase on. She had shoulder barged every bone until her body was too sore to take any more. Not one had budged. The stalagmites on each end were unnaturally smooth and wide at the base with a tapered point metres above her head, making it impossible
to get out that way. After a quick scan around to ensure she was alone, she had even taken her shirt and trousers off and tied them together to make a cloth rope. After tossing her makeshift rope toward the tips of the ribs above her head until her shoulders ached, she had to concede it wasn’t long enough. She’d been attempting to escape for hours with no sign of progress.

  I wish I had Firinne.

  It might have helped her in her escape plans. At the very least, if she had her knife, she would feel slightly more equipped to handle the dragon.

  Eyeing the cooked venison, she sat down with a groan. She announced to the empty cave, “I’m going to get bored with only eating meat soon. I wonder if the dragon would accept a request for some greens to be added to the menu?”

  She started giggling at her own joke, stupid as it was. The cackling became unhinged and morphed into sobs of hysteria that bounced around the open space. She was no closer to escaping than she had been yesterday. She would die in this cave and her father would never find her. Tears continued to flow down her cheeks as she thought of her only family member. Her heart squeezed in her chest and she sucked in gasps of air. Letting go, she allowed the panic to consume her for a moment. Then, dragging in deep breaths, she focused on relaxing her shoulders. Slowly, she drew the pieces of her sanity back together. She was exhausted and disheartened. She would rest for a time, gather her strength, and try again. Sera made a vow to herself. She would not give up. Eyelids heavy, she allowed her eyes to close and drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Eight – Two Weeks Ago

  The rain misted through the city’s high-rises, washing the grime of the day from Sera’s skin. She turned her face up to the sky, enjoying the feel of each drop on her body. Every time she had to work in close quarters with Tyler Grayson, she left feeling like her skin was covered in an oil slick that she couldn’t remove without scrubbing it away in a boiling shower. Unfortunately, since he was her assigned Hunter, they were partnered until retirement unless one of them was killed in the field, so there was nothing she could do to escape him.

  She flattened herself against a grey building and waited as a Tauron trotted past her, trying to keep dry. The half-man, half-bull, was clutching his briefcase to his chest along with a paper filled binder. Waiting and watching were the main parts of her job. She would find clues to the whereabouts of a rogue mythic by speaking with locals, following the target’s physical tracks, or by seeking out the remnants of magic that they often left behind. Back at MINATH the students sometimes joked that Trackers needed their own type of magic to find the beasts. It was just a joke though, everyone knew that only the mythics had access to magic. Studying this particular Tauron, she noted the glasses that kept sliding down his nose, the ink-stained hands and the logo of the Mandar City Bank branded on his hindquarters.

  A banker through and through.

  Recalling her studies, she contemplated their world’s history. She was so used to the way things were, she couldn’t imagine what it was like before the Peace Covenant. Centuries ago, the magical beasts that roamed the land were thought to be fiction, a lie made up by parents to scare children into behaving themselves. Two hundred years ago, the world had entered a golden era of abundance and peace, at which time the population of mythical creatures had expanded and shown themselves to the humans. In an effort to keep the peace, the government had formed the Mandar Institute for Negotiators, Alchemists, Trackers and Hunters along with the Mythic Relations Office. Their purpose was to foster positive relations between the human race and the creatures that had previously been thought of as fables. For a little over a century the inhabitants of both the human and mythic races worked together to create a new world where they worked side by side.

  As she continued walking home, she noticed the bustle of the city seemed more frantic than usual as humans and creatures alike hurried to get out of the rain. Sera kept her pace steady and relished the change in the temperature as the humidity seeped away. Unbidden, her feet stopped in front of a shop. Peering through the display window, she smiled as she saw the gargoyle, Alistair, busy making a new stone carving. She always loved stopping in to see his latest creations. He glanced up from his work, bared his teeth in his awkward version of a grin and beckoned her in. The tinkle of the bell as she entered was welcoming and familiar, and she took a moment to admire the life-size carving of a hippogryph that took up most of the front room.

  “Seraphina.” Alistair slowly nodded his heavy head in greeting.

  “Hey, Alistair. You know I keep telling you to call me Sera.”

  The gargoyle shrugged a shoulder and returned his attention to his current piece of art. He didn’t speak much, but when he did she made sure she listened. The sound of his diamond-tipped fingernails carving into the piece of stone grated on her ears, but it was worth it to see the creation he revealed with each pass of his hands.

  He inclined his head toward the stone hippogryph in front of her and grunted, “Tormund modelled for me.”

  She whistled. “It’s just beautiful. As your art always is. Although, I do sympathise for your poor ears if Tormund was your model.” She giggled. Her old teacher was notorious for talking the ear off anyone who stayed still long enough. Coupled with the mostly silent Alistair, it painted an amusing scene.

  “I guess you haven’t had much time for any other new pieces if you’ve been busy sculpting the hippogriff?”

  “Not much.” His voice scraped like sand against stone. He paused for a moment as if debating whether to tell her. “There is one new piece.”

  “May I see it?” she asked, always eager to admire his handiwork.

  He jerked his granite wing toward the back corner of his shop, behind the counter. A myriad of small carvings, no larger than the size of her hand, cluttered the low shelf. She had seen them all before. Her brows knitted together as she carefully moved some aside and found the newest addition. She gasped and quickly dropped her hand away. Eyes wide, she turned back to Alistair. He sat as still as any of his sculptures, his back turned to her.

  “You made a dragon?” she hissed quietly. “Alistair! You have to hide this. If you get reported…” She ran her hands through her hair anxiously. “You know it’s not allowed.”

  He turned to face her and stated, “It’s for you.”

  “For me?” she squeaked. “You know I’ve always wanted one of your artworks, but I can’t accept this. If the MRO finds out about it, you will end up in the IRC and I would, at the very least, get fired. There is no tolerance when it comes to the discussion of dragons.” She whispered the last sentence, afraid someone on the street might overhear them.

  “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

  Exasperated, she rolled her eye. “Of course I won’t tell on you.”

  “Do me a favour then. Pick it up. Look at it. And leave it here. I’ll keep it safe for you.”

  Worry consumed her, making her feel sick. “I’m scared,” she said softly.

  “Will you live your whole life by other people’s rules?” His pupils bored into her.

  “This is the law, not a simple matter of deciding whether to ignore the fashion police and wear socks with sandals,” she muttered. Sighing, she buried her fear. “Fine. I’ll have a look at it, and then walk away and pretend I never saw it.”

  Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to ignore her training and turned back to the shelf. Gingerly, she picked up the miniature dragon and cradled it in the palm of her hand. Running her eyes over the extinct mythic, she couldn’t help but admire every facet of the creature that Alistair had painstakingly carved. The exquisite detail of the scales that covered its body almost made it look like it was writhing in her grasp. The wings were flared wide, and somehow Alistair had made them appear almost translucent. Each tiny claw, tooth and spine was accounted for. But what captured and held Sera’s attention were the small sapphires that glinted in the eyes. Enraptured, she ran her fingers along the snout and stroked the precious stones. They flared like blue fire and an
electric thrill swept through her veins. She cried out in shock and quickly shoved it back on the shelf.

  Glaring at Alistair accusingly, she asked, “Did you know that would happen?”

  “That what would happen?” he responded innocently.

  Maybe I imagined it. Maybe it was just a trick of the light. She struggled to give herself a logical explanation.

  “Never mind.” She shivered, the blue orbs still burning in her mind’s eye. “I have to get home, Alistair. I’ll try to visit again next week.” Hugging her arms around her torso, she hurried out of his shop and back into the pouring rain.

  Chapter Nine

  As she slept, dreamlike images filtered through her mind like a sieve. She couldn't quite grasp any of the fleeting visions that ran like water through her hands. A blast of energy encompassed her body as she was propelled forward into Arius' consciousness once more. She could hear the wind whistling over his wings, feel the chill of the night air as tiny frost crystals gathered along his wingtips. Sera felt the strain in his muscles as Arius flapped his wings hard, shaking the ice from his limbs and pushing the air away from him as he came in to land on an exposed mountaintop. A storm crackled around him, lightning sparking briefly before vanishing and stealing the light away with it. The bright flashes followed by such darkness made it challenging to make out their surroundings. Suddenly, three dragons emerged from the cloud-filled sky. One was an opalescent white, delicate and feminine as if birthed by Caelhi, the Goddess of Air. The next, even larger than Arius and shining gold, was surely a son of Bhelanos, the God of Fire. The last was darker than the night that surrounded them, an inky pool of pure muscle. His malevolent presence was more demon than god-like. They joined Arius in the clearing on the mountain. The beating of their wings combined to create their own thunder. As they landed, the storm calmed and a quiet settled over the evening. The dragon that shone like an opal walked towards Arius and gently nuzzled under his chin.