Spark of Lightning: Storm Warden Chronicles Book 1

by Jessica Gunn

  “Honestly, I’m not sure what I believe anymore.” I pinched the bridge of my nose for a second, then turned back to him. “When does training start? I hope I haven’t overslept.”

  “Not at all. It’ll begin soon, though,” Eli said. “I’d suggest a light breakfast that you can eat while we walk. Zezza won’t be able to participate in the training, but she is of course welcome to come along.”

  Zezza straightened herself as if to prove she could actually handle anything and Eli would be smart to learn that. It was a lot for a small dragon to express, but it was easily evident in the way her draconic arrogance was beginning to show itself.

  I went over and scooped her up to her normal perch on my shoulder. “Easy, Zezza. Be nice to him.”

  She trilled and rubbed her snout against the side of my face happily. Her wings came around my shoulders in a hug-like motion. Warmth swelled in my chest in that moment, something raw that transcended the normal protective feelings I had toward Zezza. I touched a hand to her back.

  “I got you too,” I said. Then I changed and grabbed a granola bar and followed Eli to the training grounds.

  The sun shone down on us, peeking through the giant leaves in this rainforest. The air was warm and humid still, but cooler overall than yesterday. Zezza hovered nearby as always while Eli and I walked in silence.

  I’d become convinced since arriving that the Lair was simply a paradise. Beautiful weather, amazing views. Sure, the volcano at the center seemed to constantly be spewing smoke and that was more than a little concerning. But it seemed like the kind of thing the people here weren’t worrying about. So as we passed by a clearing in the canopy and the volcano came into view, I tried to put it out of mind.

  After about a half hour of traversing the jungle, Eli paused for a moment and pointed on ahead. “The training grounds are over this ridge. We’ll walk through the nursery on our way so you can see what’s at stake in your position.”

  For the first time since appearing on this island, Eli’s words had taken on the same commanding, hard tone as his words had had when he’d saved me from Kristian.

  “Yes,” I said, following him.

  A few minutes later we were standing outside a building made almost entirely of walls of stained-glass with a support beam structure made from metal. Inside, shadows of tiny creatures flew past the windows due to the way the rising sun was casting light on the glass. The shadows were about the same size as Zezza.

  Oh, my god. Nursery. Of course!

  “Are those more baby dragons?” I asked, my voice higher-pitched with excitement than I’d care to show to a stranger. As weird as Zezza’s hatching and subsequent life had been, she was the cutest thing I had ever seen.

  Eli nodded, his lips parting with a smile. “The newest brood. They hatched in the early morning hours yesterday before we left to fetch you. It is why I was later than I should have been in returning to the mortal weave to get you.” He led me to a door on one side of the building and set his hand on the handle. “We can only be inside for a few moments, but I think it’s important for you to understand.”

  He opened the door. For some reason, my heartbeat nearly stopped and then skittered. Like somewhere deep down, I subconsciously already understood. But it hadn’t been until Eli had swung open the door and revealed a wide-open space filled with half a dozen dragon shifters and easily three times as many baby dragons flying and stumbling around that it hit me.

  Zezza trilled so high-pitched, I had to clamp my palms over my ears as she careened away from me and into the fray. Tiny little dragons in all sizes and colors and species flew around, creating a youthful and adorable mass of chaos. I couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear. Red and blue, silver and gold. Bronze, white, rainbow, some the shades of semi-precious stones. So many of them! So little and precious, pretending to be fearless with one another but also being the smallest, most fragile creatures.

  I took a seat in a nearby chair and watched as Zezza played amongst them. A few of the dragon hatchlings gained some courage and wandered nearby. I held out my hand to them. At first, they’d run or fly around my head excitedly, but then they each slowed down, touching their snouts or wings to my hand. One by one, they gave me their names and childish titles via the same draconic telepathy Zezza seemed to have. Adabi the Playful. Nabi the Fire. A sapphire-hued dragon named Rala proudly introduced herself as the Trickster.

  Each and every one of them introduced themselves to me and… bowed sort of. As if they knew what I was. Who I was.

  The Warden of the Storm.

  But… while Zezza’s power seemed to be stormy in nature—the wind and lightning, and my whole water-walking venture—these hatchlings were nothing like her. Some puffed fire and soot out of their noses. Some swam around in a small pool of water as if they were born for it. Others still flew by potted plants and left trails of flowers behind them. One especially rambunctious purple-ombre-scaled dragon hatchling seemed to be constantly followed by a stream of monarch butterflies.

  So where had the “of the Storm” portion of the name come from?

  Eli, as if reading my mind, leaned over to me. His arms were crossed at his chest, though he chuckled at some of the antics happening around us. “They say many dragons flying together sound like an oncoming storm. That when they roar, it’s louder than any thunder and lightning that even Zeus could produce. You wouldn’t know it looking at these little ones, though.”

  “Zeus, eh?” I asked as Zezza reappeared at my side and crawled into my lap. No doubt marking her territory. As one of three sisters I knew jealousy when I saw it and Zezza was bright green with it. “Do dragon shifters believe in mortal mythology?”

  Eli shrugged. “We were mortals once, too. Long ago. But no, your mythology just makes for good analogies.”

  “Guess so. How often do the dragons here lay eggs? Have babies? Whatever the term might be.”

  “Mate?” Eli asked, looking over at me.

  My face flushed again. “No, how long until eggs hatch? You said I needed to understand what’s at stake. What do you mean?”

  Eli shifted so he faced me, his back to the brood. “Dragons are magic. At their very essence and core they are a gift from one of the Old Gods, the same Old God who created the first Warden and Guardian to protect the Storm. The same Maker who gave mortals the power to shift into dragons. Because of this, and because dragon eggs can take decades to hatch, when the pure dragon population begins decreasing, keeping what’s left safe becomes the highest priority. The eggs only hatch when they feel the time is right.”

  And Zezza thought hatching after midnight after I won an insane poker game was the best time she could ever pick? You’re an interesting little one, that’s for sure.

  Or, as Eli would probably love to hear me say, maybe it was fate after all.

  “Is the population waning?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Slowly, over time. Since the ley-lines were struck, many of the adults and eldest ones, those over a few hundred years old, have begun getting sick and dying. We are not sure why. Which is what makes this brood precious. They may be the last of their kind if this continues.”

  My mouth dropped open some as I looked down to Zezza. She found me at the same time all of this was happening at the Lair. The meteor struck, and years later, somehow her egg ended up at Lunar Royale. The next morning, I was told of my destiny. I winced, even thinking the word, but all of this couldn’t be just a coincidence.

  Everything happens for a reason. Maddie used to tell me that all the time.

  Maybe she, and by extension Eli, were right.

  I wasn’t sure what I could do about the dragons dying, though. If broken ley-lines were the root of the issue, that was way beyond my ability. The mysteries of ley-lines had confused mortals ever since the meteor hit. But if dragonkind as a whole—which I guess I was a part of now—didn’t find an answer soon, these were the last of the true dragons.

  Zezza was slowly losing her kind.

&nb
sp; Sadness and a heavy feeling in my gut washed over me. I pulled Zezza closer and thought, You won’t ever be alone. Not while I’m around.

  She looked back at me as if she understood. And then she bowed her head a little bit.

  Almost like she was saying, You won’t ever be alone either.

  Emotion stung my eyes. I wiped away a few tears before they could begin to fall and asked, “Is this the first brood born since the meteor struck?”

  If that was the case… that was so long ago now.

  Eli’s amused expression dropped as his eyes turned a stormy shade of grey that matched parts of his armor. “Yes. Do you understand now why it was so important we find you? Why, even though you had no idea about us and our world, this weave, that we bring you here? Why there has been so much wasted time and now potentially another supernatural war?”

  I nodded solemnly. “The other supernaturals… they think you’re all dead and gone. If they knew how many dragons were left, how many hatchlings there were that might one day grow into weapons for them…”

  Shit. The Supernatural War that had been waged over control over the mortal weave years ago had also stamped out dragonkind and the dragon shifters. Or so we’d thought.

  If there was a second Supernatural War, and if this time the human mortals with their modern weapons were ready for it, there was no telling who or what—if anything—might be standing at the end of it all.

  And all of this worry over one dragon egg at a poker game that I’d happened to not only force my way into but had also won.

  I chuckled nervously with the realization. Then the chuckle bubbled over into a deep laugh that sent Zezza flying off of me in surprise.

  Eli looked at me like I was insane. “How can you possibly find any of this funny, Vera? Another war could end everything.”

  With amusement twisting my lips, I met his gaze. “Because I think you’re right. If this all isn’t destiny, then I don’t know what is.”

  Chapter 17

  An hour later found me outfitted in a set of leather armor. Eli knelt down beside me and cupped his hands. Beside the two of us was a massive red-scaled dragon who had introduced himself to me as Bux.

  “Don’t worry,” Eli said, still waiting for me to step into his hands and then up into the saddle strapped to Bux’s back.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  I mean, he wasn’t. I’d known he wasn’t. Eli had warned me earlier that we’d be riding dragons today. I’d known this was coming.

  But in this exact moment the sight of a saddle on a dragon mixing together sent my head spinning into lands of disbelief.

  “He’s a gentle giant,” Eli said. “You’ll be safe with him.”

  “She’ll be safer on the ground,” Elena said curtly. She hovered above us on a much thinner, longer dragon the color of the ocean. She had her runic sword tucked in a sheath behind her and an expression that said she was ready to watch me eat dirt.

  I lifted an eyebrow. If there was anyone I’d love to prove wrong more on this island, I had yet to meet them.

  “All right, Bux,” I said as I laid a hand on his burning ember scales. “I have never done this before, so please bear with me.”

  “In this lifetime,” Bux mused, his deep but lighthearted voice echoing in my head. At least the dragons couldn’t speak speak. Just this weird telepathy thing. I wasn’t sure what I would do if I heard actual words coming out of their moving mouths. “Before, you have done this many a time. Have faith, young Warden. You will remember.”

  “You think I have the same genetic memory with past Wardens that you guys have with your kind?” I asked.

  Zezza nudged one of my legs and looked up at me. I smiled back at her and gestured to my shoulder.

  She remained on the ground.

  “It’s okay, Zezza. Come on.”

  “She knows we must have our time together,” Bux said into my mind. “To show you the ways of the dragon riders.”

  If a dragon could pout, Zezza was doing it in flourishing colors. I knelt down beside her and gave her a quick hug.

  “I won’t be gone long,” I whispered. “When you’re big enough, we can go flying too.”

  She projected an image of us flying together in my head, soaring high above the clouds on a clear day.

  Huh. So Zezza could imprint more than her past genetic or more recent memory… but also ideas and fiction too?

  “Let’s go,” Elena drawled. “Before we lose daylight and the ability to attend the feast.” With a swift command to her dragon, she was gone. Above her, on a dragon the same color of the green and black scales on his body, was Tharin.

  Irritation spiked within me. I swallowed it down and rolled my shoulders. Now or never.

  I grabbed hold of a handle on the side of the saddle and stepped into Eli’s cupped hands. He lifted me until I could swing my leg up into another holster. Bux was huge. Not quite the size of the sea serpent, but much larger than the Speaker’s dragon form had been. Which meant in order to actually get into the saddle, I had to climb.

  So climb I did. Zezza followed beside me, flying upward inch by inch as I ascended until finally, finally, I was in Bux’s saddle. I strapped myself in and gripped two handholds on either side of the back of his neck.

  “Okay, Bux,” I said. “What now?” I looked over his side at Eli down below. He was mounting his own dragon. Even here, with Elena and Tharin nearby, it was Eli and Eli alone keeping an eye on me. Being a mentor of sorts. I didn’t get the impression that Tharin particularly cared that much either way about me. But Elena confused me. Her constant rudeness and want to seemingly have nothing to do with me was really starting to get on my nerves. It was concerning, not least of all because it seemed like if Eli was my mentor, we’d all be spending a lot of time together.

  Surely Eli’s success, and therefore mine at being Warden, was an important thing to their kingdom? Wouldn’t she want a hand in training me too?

  She soared off with Tharin in tow. At least Tharin turned back to wave at me encouragingly.

  “Now,” Eli began. “Riding a dragon is much easier than riding a horse. Especially when not doing so in battle.”

  “Okay.” He had my rapt attention. I figured if Bux was going to move suddenly, I’d feel his muscles move first.

  Eli grinned. “So long as there is trust between dragon and rider.”

  “Trust?” I leaned over so I could look down Bux’s long neck to his head. His large, gold reptilian eye was already watching me carefully. “What do you say, Bux? Can we trust each other?”

  A loud, thunderous chuckle shook both my mind and my body as Bux’s muscles constricted and he began to stand. In my mind, he said, “I think the more appropriate question is: Can you trust me?”

  Before I could answer, Bux pushed off from the ground, his massive leathery wings spreading widely around us. Eli and his dragon dodged out of the way barely in time. This sent Bux laughing again, doubly so as a small scream tore from my throat at the unexpected take-off.

  I clutched the handholds as the ground below Bux and me quickly became a kaleidoscope of colors, a colorful blue beneath us. At first, I pressed my cheek against Bux’s scales, trying to squelch the scream continuing from my mouth and regain some self-control. But the further up we flew, the more that scream turned into a laugh.

  “This is insane!” I called. Oh, gods. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Soaring high above the ground, surging into the clouds above, being surrounded by a mass of scales and fluffy white clouds. I was giggling, giddy as I could ever remember being.

  “I am glad you enjoy flying,” Bux said as he continued climbing until we were almost above the clouds. They split, allowing a clear view of the ground far below. “It is a gift both our kind and the lesser shifters share. A gift no other can claim.”

  “Honestly, Bux, this is amazing.”

  There were no words for this feeling. I was terrified of falling, but I trusted this creature’s form and muscle mem
ory to keep us aloft. Exhilaration bloomed within me, pushing the fear away, and making room for pure joy.

  But then there was this deeper feeling, like when I’d first seen Zezza emerge from her egg. And again when she’d first used her lightning abilities in front of me. And when she’d first touched my mind with hers.

  Tears stung my eyes as a knot formed in my throat. I lifted one hand to wipe away the tears as I grinned, laughing even as I cried. I lifted both hands up into the sky and enjoyed the insanity that was riding a massive, actually real dragon.

  It was up here, amongst the clouds, where euphoria began picking away at the shell around my heart, the iron-clad armor I’d donned long ago to keep others out. To keep connection impossible, and in not allowing connection, also preventing loss.

  But, gods… Zezza. Bux. Even Eli. This entire island.

  I felt joy. And connection to them all.

  Most of all, I felt the fear of loss again. That maybe my actions had indeed begun to trigger another war.

  I would do anything as the Warden of the Storm to keep Zezza safe. And Bux. And Rala and the other dragon hatchlings.

  For the first time in a long time, I cared.

  Chapter 18

  By the time Eli walked Zezza and me back to our cabin, I was exhausted. My shaky legs beneath me dared to collapse the entire walk back. Somehow, I made it to the front door without falling or—even worse—needing Eli for support.

  Everything on the walk back suddenly seemed brighter. The flowers more vibrant, the skies bluer. Gods, there was even a skip in my step.

  Happiness. But not only happiness. It was… life. Feeling alive.

  I’d almost forgotten what that felt like outside of endangering myself by working at a casino meant for supernaturals. Or forcing my way into one of their games.

  Zezza, though… she’d been silent and almost sullen on our return trip.

  I bent down before the door and picked her up. “You okay there, Ms. Sulky?” I chuckled, but… she didn’t appear to enjoy the joke nickname very much. “Zezza?”