Dragon Force: The Complete Series

by Lucia Ashta

  While we walked up the treacherous mountain path, with all the things I needed to be mindful of, I barely gave any thought to what would happen once we arrived at the chieftain’s house. But once we did arrive, the chieftain ordered the people away under the pretense that the dragon charmers needed to secure the dragon, and we were left alone with the chieftain and his emissaries before I’d had the chance to prepare for what he might do—not that it would have mattered much, anyway. He was the chieftain of our tribe, and I was but a girl, an invisible one at that. Even Dean and Shula would be forced to do whatever he commanded.

  And he got right to the commanding part. “Jore will lead you down to the area I’ve set aside for the dragon. I assumed you’d want to be near the dragon to fulfill your duty to protect her, so your accommodations will be with the beast. As a baby, with both deformities and injuries, she’ll require more care. This way, you’ll be positioned to give her what she needs.”

  “Very well,” Dean said while Jore moved to lead us all. “You had time to prepare these accommodations since you learned of the dragon? I only discovered her a short time ago.”

  “A good leader of his people must be prepared for anything. Besides, I work with seers. I know things long before others do. It’s part of my job.”

  “I understand,” Dean said, and it sounded like he was understanding a whole lot more than what the chieftain was saying with his words. “In that case, since you’ve set up the accommodations so that I’ll be near the dragon, then I think it will better serve our people if Shula returns to the Dragon Force. I’ve already developed a good connection to the baby dragon, and she seems manageable. I’d feel better about things if Shula were out there teaching the dragon trainees and preparing them to move forward. She can incorporate my group of students with hers and continue lessons so that we don’t lose any time.”

  Chieftain Pumpoo seemed to be considering it.

  “If we need to find someone capable of riding a dragon, then we need to continue lessons and progress in the Dragon Force. If I’m not there to do it, there’s no one better to take my place than Shula.”

  “And Yoon? He seems sensible and plenty capable.” Yoon also came close to idolizing the chieftain. “He could take over both of your groups for classes. It’s more likely that the dragon rider will be one among the dragon charmers, anyway, not the new inductees.”

  “Maybe. But no one in the dragon charmers has even come close to riding a dragon, not even Shula or me. Dragons resist this more than any other intervention. We’ve tried.”

  “Then this dragon might hold a key to riding dragons. The work with this dragonling is as important as working with the inductees. No, I think you and Shula will both stay here. Yoon will take over.”

  “Your Greatness, I respectfully ask that you reconsider. I’ll be at greater ease if Shula is handling the Dragon Force, and I’ll be better able to focus on my work with the dragonling.”

  “I don’t need to reconsider. I’ve made up my mind. You and Shula will stay and focus entirely on the dragon.”

  “But—”

  “Are you questioning my judgment, dragon charmer?”

  Dean hesitated just long enough that I thought he might speak the truth. But he chose caution instead. “I mean only respect, Your Greatness, and to do what is best for our people. I will do as you wish, as will Shula.”

  “Good. Keep your focus on the dragonling, and everything will go well,” the chieftain said. I had no doubt he meant everything would go well for him. “Now, go with Jore. I have other matters to attend to.”

  Jore started to lead Dean and Shula, who continued to walk on either side of Rosie so I would be protected, to the back of the house.

  “Dean,” the chieftain said from beneath his orange shade.

  “Your Greatness?”

  “I expect that your oversight in informing me of the dragon right away won’t happen again. You will deliver any news to me first and right away, is that understood?”

  “Of course. I understand.” Dean’s “I understand” sounded a whole lot like the one I gave Mother. Just because he understood didn’t mean he agreed. The chieftain started to walk away when Dean stopped him. “Your Greatness?”

  Pumpoo turned, and the two emissaries that carried his shade turned with him. “Yes?” It was neither a patient nor a gentle kind of yes.

  “Will you kindly tell us what it is exactly that you hope us to achieve in working with this dragonling? So that we can focus on accomplishing this goal as rapidly as possible?”

  Pumpoo studied Dean, then Shula, before saying, “Your focus should be on finding a way to charm dragons sufficiently that they’ll allow you—or someone else—to ride them. And you should discover any link this dragonling might have to faithum.”

  “Faithum?” Shula broke her silence to ask about the art that was forbidden to our people—by the chieftain.

  “Yes, faithum. Faithum is dangerous, as dangerous as dragons, if not more, which is why I’ve forbidden it. But if the dragons possess faithum, we can’t ignore that. We have to understand it so that if we need to wield it against our enemies, we can. King Oderon’s raiders could invade our lands again at any time. Or the twins the seer saw could walk across the rock plains. Or the dragons could turn against us. Any matter of threat could descend upon our people at any time. Do I want to use faithum? Absolutely not. Do I believe it’s a terrible risk to take? Yes. But if anyone will take the greatest risk of all for our people, it will be me.”

  Dean and Shula’s green eyes were wide with restrained reaction. The chieftain was lying, and I didn’t need the centuries of experience of the dragon charmers to figure that out.

  Shula asked, “What makes you believe the dragons have faithum, or that faithum even exists?” The charmer with her fierce demeanor and severe braid down her back didn’t possess the smooth diplomacy of her friend. Dean hurried to take over. “Shula asks, I’m sure, because the information would be helpful to deliver what you ask of us. We’ve never looked for faithum before, as it was forbidden.”

  Again, Pumpoo studied Dean and Shula while he appeared to deliberate. After he seemed to reach some conclusion, he said, “I know faithum exists, and that the dragons have it, because I feel faithum.”

  Dean and Shula stiffened. Rosie, between them, sensed the shift in their bodies and looked from one to the other and then to me. Thankfully, the chieftain was too busy pinning the charmers in his stare to notice.

  “Because I sense faithum, I know better than anyone how dangerous it is. That’s why I forbade it. To spare all my people from the terrible dangers of this magic of old. I need to understand more about faithum, how to access more of it, to further protect our people from it.”

  Ah. Finally. The truth comes out. He wants to access more of it. The chieftain was dangerous enough already without amassing more power, more... faithum. It seemed insane even as I thought it. I’d barely allowed myself to consider the possibility of faithum all this time, even being the way I was. And then since I revealed myself to Dean, two of the strongest men of our tribe had admitted to the existence of faithum.

  Faithum. It was a thought I had every intention of wrapping my mind around.

  The chieftain continued. “Now you understand why you must perform your work in isolation. No one can find out about faithum nor any advancement we make in it through work with the dragon. No one can hear rumors or draw assumptions.”

  “We understand,” Dean said, and his face told me that he understood even more than I did, far more than what the chieftain was outwardly revealing.

  “If you have no more questions, follow Jore. We all have work to do, and the sooner we do it, the better off our people will be. I’ll check on your progress later.”

  Before Dean or Shula had the chance to respond, the chieftain turned again and started to walk away. When his back was to them, a look of ferocious intent settled across Dean’s face—for just a quick moment, long enough for me to hope the charmer h
ad a plan that would save us from the chieftain. Because the chieftain was brewing some terrible plan. I didn’t bother trying to have an open mind or hope the leader of the Ooba people wasn’t the charlatan I was rapidly becoming convinced he was.

  “Follow me,” Jore said and set a quick pace to the backside of the house. Dean and Shula exchanged looks, but followed. I led Rosie behind them.

  “I didn’t realize there was anything back here,” Dean said.

  “That’s because it wasn’t your business to know,” Jore said. He led us past the house and onto a faint, narrow trail through the trees behind the chieftain’s house. He lived at the edge of the village, just as my family did, only on the opposite side. It never occurred to me that the chieftain, like us, might have something to hide.

  “There’s something this far away from the village?” Dean asked after we’d walked a bit.

  Jore didn’t answer, until he said. “We’re here.”

  “Here where?” Shula asked.

  “Your accommodations.”

  “Our accommodations?” Dean said. “Are you serious?”

  “Deadly.”

  “Then where the hell are these accommodations?” Dean sounded angry. I took comfort in his anger, I allowed it to wash over me and take the place of my fear. Anger was better than fear, especially when a big, fierce, muscular dragon charmer of legend backed it up.

  “Here,” Jore said again, this time with a malicious sneer. He bent over to dust leaves off what looked very much like a trapdoor... to a trap.

  “You’re kidding me.”

  “Not a bit.” I’d never had reason to dislike Jore—until then. He finished dusting off the trapdoor and pulled it open. “The Great Chieftain Pumpoo asks that you leave your weapons here before entering.”

  “And why would we do that?” Dean asked.

  “Because your chieftain orders it, of course.”

  “I’m in the habit of thinking for myself.” Dean’s anger was back, and so were his borderline treasonous statements.

  “The Chieftain Pumpoo doesn’t share his reasoning with me.”

  “I’ll bet he doesn’t.”

  Jore scowled. “I follow orders, as should you. Everything the great chieftain decides is for the good of the Ooba people. Now, leave your weapons, or I’ll be forced to go get the chieftain and tell him you refuse to follow his orders.”

  When neither Dean nor Shula moved, Jore said, “What’s it going to be? Just remember that the chieftain will put you to death for defying a direct order in contravention of the people’s well-being.”

  Both Jore and the chieftain liked throwing around ideas about the well-being of the Ooba people. I was getting the sinking feeling they no longer knew what that was, if they ever had.

  “What are you getting out of this?”

  “Why whatever do you mean? I simply follow orders.”

  “Cut the crap, Jore. What’s he giving you?”

  “Unlike you, I don’t require reward or reason to follow the chieftain’s orders.”

  Dean glared until Jore snapped, “I’m the chieftain’s closest adviser. You figure it out with your great reputation and legendary prowess.” Jore spit out the accolades like insults. “If you’re so great, you figure it out, figure it all out. You’ll have plenty of time to think, that’s for sure.” He laughed, and it was a sound nearly as ugly as any I’d heard the chieftain make. “Last chance. Give me your weapons, or I’ll tell the chieftain and the execution officer.”

  Shula looked to Dean. Only when he started to slowly unfasten his belt, sheaths, and scabbards did she do the same.

  “I expect every single weapon back in perfect condition,” Shula said as she placed her weapons belt on the ground. She stood the same height as Jore, but I would have bet all I had that she could take him down, and keep him down, without breaking a sweat. “Or you’ll answer to me.”

  Jore twitched before holding his head high and saying, “Nothing will happen to your weapons while you’re in there.”

  “I expect them back,” she said.

  “You’ll have them back when the chieftain approves.”

  “I’d expect nothing less from you.”

  Jore looked as if he couldn’t tell if the warrior woman had insulted him or not. “Leave all your weapons on the ground. I’ll collect them after I close the door. Now get in.”

  Dean, hands on his unfastened weapons belt, holding it in place, moved toward the door and looked down. “How exactly do you expect us to get a dragon, who weighs far more than any of us, down a ladder?”

  “That’s not my problem.”

  Dean took a step toward Jore. “Then whose problem is it?”

  “Yours,” Jore said, his chest puffed out. “Get moving, or I’ll tell the chieftain.”

  “You’ll tell him what exactly? That we have no way to get a dragon down a freaking ladder?” Dean huffed. “This is ridiculous. We’re not doing this. Shula, take your weapons back.”

  Shula reached, but Jore was closer. He pulled one of her knives and held it in front of her face. “Stop, or I’ll cut you.”

  Shula didn’t look frightened in the least. If anything, she looked energized, like he was finally giving her something she could work with.

  “I mean it,” he said.

  “What are you going to do?” Dean asked. “No one’s here to back you up, and the chieftain is long gone by now.”

  “You don’t think the chieftain didn’t anticipate your resistance, do you? The two most fearsome charmers?” The deranged smile was back. Chieftain Pumpoo chose quite the crew. “He thought you might resist.”

  “He did, did he?” Dean said, taking a step toward Jore and the knife he pointed at Shula.

  “Oh yes. He authorized me to deliver a message for him.”

  “How kind of him.”

  “If you don’t get down there with the dragon, without your weapons, he’ll take out someone you care about.”

  “Shula and I don’t have families. There’s no one for him to threaten.”

  “Oh, that’s where you’re mistaken. The chieftain has plenty of leverage.”

  “We’re listening. Spit it out already.”

  “If you don’t get in there, he’ll take out one dragon trainee for each time you refuse.”

  “And by ‘take out,’ you mean kill?”

  “Aye.”

  “Kill?” Shula said. “The chieftain would openly kill his people?”

  “Oh, I’m sure it won’t come off that way. The chieftain is skilled at what he does. He’s brilliant.”

  “So you’re not pretending anymore, huh?” Dean asked. “No more the great and mighty Pumpoo who sacrifices everything for his people. No more fake smiles and speeches.”

  “The chieftain is a great man. His vision for the Ooba people is beyond what little minds like yours are capable of comprehending. If he puts on a show, it’s only to bring about the greater good for all.”

  Dean shook his head. “He has even you fooled.”

  “He does not. It is you who are fooled, and I’m out of patience. Are you going to be responsible for the death of young students of the Dragon Force?”

  “No, I am not. You are the one who’s chosen to share responsibility for the chieftain’s actions. So go tell him if you must, and tell him you’ve shared his real intentions while you’re at it.”

  “Oh, I haven’t shared his real intentions. Not even close. You have no idea what he’s capable of, or what he’ll manage to achieve. No idea. You’ve never glimpsed his brilliance as I have. Too bad you won’t be around to see any of it.”

  Even though Jore scrambled to cover up, I could tell he hadn’t meant to say that last bit.

  “We won’t be around to see any of it? Is that why you’re telling us all this now, because the chieftain intends to get rid of us?”

  Jore didn’t respond. He’d said too much.

  “And what, the chieftain is planning on killing the dragonling too?”

  “I
don’t need to tell you anything more, and I won’t. Get in. Now. And give me your weapons belt.”

  “After what you told us, why would I do that?”

  “Because the chieftain orders it, so you must.” Jore was out of arguments.

  “If you’d like to take my weapons, go ahead.” Dean stretched his arms out to the side, making me duck and hurry to move out of the way. His weapons belt didn’t slide down as I expected it would. He’d refastened it when I hadn’t noticed.

  Jore looked at him, and then at Shula. “Just get in. I’m going to get the chieftain.”

  “Good for you,” Dean said, holding Jore’s jumpy eyes.

  In one smooth step, Shula bent to retrieve one of her knives, and hit Jore in the back of the skull with its pommel. Even pointing a blade at her, he hadn’t stood a chance. He crumbled to the ground, the blade falling from his hand, and a foot hanging over the edge of the trapdoor, where only a deep and plunging darkness rose to greet him.

  “Wha... What did you do that for?” I asked. Jore couldn’t hear me anymore. He couldn’t do much of anything. His mouth hung open as if he were in a deep sleep.

  “If we went down there, we’d never come out,” Dean said, as if he’d realized Shula was going to knock Jore out all along. “They would’ve killed us sooner or later.”

  Shula was already refastening her weapons belt.

  “Really?” I asked, even though I’d heard Jore threaten dragon trainees with death.

  “Without a doubt. You don’t survive the constant danger of death everyday like we have without learning to feel when it’s coming. They would’ve killed us for sure. Which can only mean one thing.”

  “Pumpoo is getting ready to do something bad, very bad,” Shula said. “So bad that he doesn’t want us around to protect against it.”

  “Exactly. And you know what that means, don’t you?”

  Shula appeared to. I had no freaking idea. “What? What does that mean?”

  “We’re going to take Chieftain Pumpoo down before he can do whatever he means to do.”

  “Precisely,” Shula said. “We’re all that stand in the way of Pumpoo and his evil machinations.”