Dragons of Dark (Upon Dragons Breath Trilogy Book 3)

by Ava Richardson

  No, not like this. The rising energy was too much. It felt like it would pour out of me uncontrollably. What if I tried to cast magic and it hurt Bower, or Ysix, just like all the times before? I thought, gritting my teeth against the rage that was bubbling up inside of me. As soon as Dol Agur had told me that strong emotions must be how I accessed my magic, it made sense. This anger seemed to come with the power, and the more I used magic, the worse I felt. My anger always there, under the surface, and I was terrified that once I let it spill out, it would wash away the person that I had been, and I would become just like Enric.

  Saffron? Jaydra’s mind brushed against mine. Although I could sense that her attention was torn between Ysix and me, she managed to turn her head to regard me with a concerned look. Saffron, you are in danger.

  “I know,” I said, as the magic painfully crawled its way up through my chest. The anger was only growing inside of me. I was angry at One-Eye, and I was furious with those other wild dragons for so easily giving up on the alliance that we had created, just as I was furious even at these villagers, for not holding out against Enric!

  Saffron, you are in danger, Jaydra repeated, and this time she had turned her whole body around to block my view of the challenging dragons above.

  “I—I know,” I gasped, feeling the waves of angry emotions welling up, threatening to drown me. “How do I stop it?” I wished that Dol Agur was here, not following behind with the rest of the Stone Tooth people.

  It felt a little like the dream battle that I had with the king; the same, cloying sense of being slowly suffocated by something that I couldn’t stop as the King got stronger and stronger, and I seemed to get weaker and weaker.

  Above us, One-Eye snarled and jumped suddenly forward down the slope, mock-charging Ysix. The blue queen reared up, displaying her long powerful neck to show she was completely unafraid of the other dragon. They were within striking distance now, and Ysix’s neck muscles were starting to swell as she called on her flame…

  That’s right! Burn her! Burn all our enemies! Destroy them! Anger curled through my belly, and my hand started to rise almost of its own accord, as the wind above us changed.

  No, Saffron. The words were soft, but the will behind them was cast iron. A shadow fell over my eyes, and something tugged me off my feet with incredible gentleness.

  “Den-sister? What are you doing?” I gasped as I found myself dangling from her jaws, her teeth neatly holding me by the scruff of my tunic, as she turned her head and neck right around and dropped me, daintily, on her own back.

  How dare she! I felt the anger spasm inside of me, directed not only at the wild dragons, but now at Jaydra herself. My den-sister. How could I be angry at her?

  This is not you, Jaydra said, as her powerful muscles bunched and moved underneath me. She turned and ran, opening her wings. She was going to fly me away from the confrontation below, she was going to try and save me from myself. I grabbed on tightly to the ridges of spines on her back.

  Only, this isn’t myself, is it? I thought, feeling the rush of wind and the force as she leapt into the air.

  No. Saffron may be angry, but there is a darkness trying to break through to your mind. I can sense it, Jaydra said as she beat her powerful wings and the winds gusted with a touch of the cold mountain frosts about them, shredding the clouds, catching the smoke of the burning village, and fanning smoldering embers below, making towers of flaming infernos leap up into the air. Had my anger summoned those winds?

  But there was also something else that was emerging from below. A different energy rose on the slope between the two challenging dragons, and it rang in my head like the sound of a gong.

  HEAR ME, DRAGONS OF THE MIDDLE KINGDOM, Bower shouted, only it wasn’t just his voice in my ears, it echoed in my mind as well. He was using his king’s ability to command the dragons to calm down, to make peace.

  “Oh no,” I murmured. How could he ever think that it was a good idea to command queens?

  YOU DO NOT HAVE TO FIGHT, Bower roared. The land of the Three Kingdoms was whole, once. All dragons flew where they wanted, how they wanted, and nothing stopped them. Now, each dragon family rises against another, argues over scraps.

  He was trying his best, but the answer couldn’t be that easy.

  There is a greater enemy that forces you to fight like this. That enemy is the same for all of us—King Enric! Bower tried, but a sudden crashing sound, cut off his speech.

  “Bower!” I screamed, the fear that my closest human friend might be injured outweighing the anger that was boiling around the core of my being. I looked down to see the wild Queen One-Eye lurch forward suddenly, spilling rocks and masonry from the boundary wall in a wide spray down the hillside, some of it hitting Queen Ysix, but none of it doing damage. Ysix flared her wings and darted forward, not to attack Queen One-Eye as I had thought, but instead to buffet Bower out of the way. He tumbled across the battle field, and his outrage and hurt poured through me.

  Saffron, no! Jaydra’s voice called, sounding to me as if it were coming from far away, growing fainter until all I could hear was the pounding of my own blood in my ears as I rose to my knees on Jaydra’s back, gathering my feet beneath me, the small part of me that was watching, quiet, not knowing whether I would stand up on Jaydra’s back, or whether my magic would pull me into the air all by itself.

  All I knew was that no one would ever hurt my friends again. No one would hurt Bower, or Ysix, or anyone else. There was only one way to make sure that all our enemies learned their lesson.

  No.

  The voice that spoke and broke through whatever grip my magic, or my anger, had on me was ancient. As old, it seemed, as the mountains themselves. Older than me and Jaydra, older than Ysix below, and even older than One-Eye. It was a voice that I knew well, a voice that belonged to none other than Zenema.

  “Zenema?” I said, looking up as an immense shadow crossed over us, blocking out the thin, watery sun; but I did not feel cold at all. If anything, I felt warmed by joy at the mere sight of the ancient dragon that had reared me. Her wingspan dwarfed ours, and cast a shadow over the entire slope of the hill, instantly sending electric shivers of awe through all of the watching humans and dragons.

  Children, brood-mother Zenema said and I felt all the island dragons returning the same affection up to their brood-mother as I did, for they were all fiercely loyal and it must have been ages since she had flown out this far into the mainland.

  Hush. I came when I could, her voice was like the far-off rumbling of thunder in the mountains, or the warm glow of golden honey, aged for years but still containing the summer’s freshness. With a steady tail flick, she glided past us, and circled ever so slowly towards the burning village, One-Eye, and her daughter Ysix below.

  Her effect on her own brood was galvanic; no dragon, myself included, could keep our eyes from her. She was a true queen! Whenever I saw her, she brought with her a feeling of safety and security; of home. As I felt relief, the magic within me dwindled in time with my calming emotions.

  The wild Queen One-Eye was spitting and writhing, whipping herself up into a frenzy against the larger white dragon above, who so clearly emanated power and grace as she flew lower and lower towards them. Looking at the wild queen, I could barely keep track of the way that she writhed and moved on the ground, she was spitting and whirling so quickly, her claws lashing out at phenomenal speeds. Despite their size difference, she might hurt Zenema in a fight, I thought, feeling vaguely disrespectful or treacherous for even thinking it.

  All the other dragons, both Island and dark, had wheeled further away to give the three queens room to fight. Two queens. I corrected, noticing how even Ysix had fallen to the sidelines of the battle out of deference to her mother.

  Suddenly One-Eye jumped into the air, the way that a weasel or a cat might do to snatch at a low flying bird. Zenema the White moved at the same instant and, for a brief moment there was a deafening tumble as both white and dark dragon rolled
over and over each other. I saw jaws snapping, talons and claws flaring, and wings and legs clasping. I heard the screech and squeal of pain, and then it was all over. Zenema stood tall on all fours, hissing as One-Eye jumped back.

  The wild dragon snarled once, and then leapt into the air and flew back towards the mountains, not even attempting to call any of her children to rally or follow her. The wild dragon had been beaten, and she knew it, she flew oddly and I could see that she must be injured, but I could not tell how seriously as she fled the battlefield.

  “But her brood—” I looked to where the Three Rivers riders still clung atop their wild dragons, who still flew in worried, panicked circles. They were making cooing, reassuring noises to each other, but it was Ysix who answered them, trilling at them to be calm, that there was nothing to worry about. Zenema had won the battle, and the children of One-Eye who had chosen to join our coalition were now loyal to Ysix and Zenema.

  The air was split with further cries, as more dragons came towards us from the furthest Western Isles. They were the last of Zenema’s brood, joining their mother and us in the fight against King Enric.

  “Bower!” I shouted joyously below, to see him running across the ground, towards Zenema but then I noticed that Zenema had a savage wound down one side of her neck, ripping through her fire-sacs, fire-sacs from where dragons made their fire. Dark, rich blood as thick as syrup hissed as it dripped on the earth.

  Mother Zenema! Jaydra didn’t need any of my encouragement to fly down towards her mother, and around us the other island dragons flapped and swarmed to coo and snuff at their den-mother’s wound. I felt immediately soothed, being surrounded by their large, warm bodies—all my fear and anger and my terrible welling magic gone. I knew then that the dragons were meant to be here, fighting alongside the humans for a shared world.

  And Zenema had saved me, even from myself, I thought, as Bower cut through the swarm of dragons.

  “Please, friends and kin! Give the Great Queen Zenema some space! We need room to work!” he said, and, amazingly, the island dragons paid attention and slowly drew away to leave a wide circle around the now-sitting Zenema.

  Jaydra alighted at the edge of the circle, next to Ysix, and I slid off to run across the ground towards Bower and the other figure he was welcoming into the circle.

  “Mother Gorlas? Can you help?” I asked anxiously. All around us the smell of dragon blood was thick in the air, like spiced rum.

  “Well, I have treated a dragon before you know, when some of the wild dragons had infections, but that was usually a case of lacing their meats with herbs, not bandaging or stitching…” Mother Gorlas looked at the large white dragon with a high degree of suspicion. It was as if the matriarch could almost sense the power coming from the den-mother just as palpably as I could.

  “Any help you can give, Mother,” Bower asked, laying a hand to the side of Zenema’s foreleg. The white dragon had stretched her neck and head out on the ground, to bare the wound to the elements. Though her eyes were half-closed—in submission or pain, I did not know—they still glittered and span with sun, fire, and gold.

  Zenema? I reached out, with both mind and hand, and instantly felt her attention rest on me.

  Saffron-daughter. Child. It was full of warmth and affection. You have grown, I see. Her voice against my mind sounded weaker than I had ever heard it before. I let out a low moan of despair, to be given a quick, scolding look by Mother Gorlas.

  I will be fine. I have fought many battles in my seven centuries of life, Zenema said.

  “Seven centuries?” Bower gasped, and I realized he was sharing the conversation with Zenema and I, although Mother Gorlas and Jaydra and even Ysix seemed oblivious. I wondered why Zenema would want to talk just to us, the two youngest here perhaps, and not even her own blood-kin.

  Of course you are my kin! the voice of Zenema came back stronger in rebuke, and I felt a heavy thump as Zenema flicked her tail against the ground, breaking the earth and scattering rocks.

  “Easy now, ma’am, easy,” Mother Gorlas said. She had summoned the village girl who had been talking to Bower before, and together they had found somewhere a brass-colored metal cauldron, which they were busy filling with water. Mother Gorlas worked quickly, quietly, and efficiently, not in her usual loud and somewhat caustic way. I wonder if that means that it is a bad injury, then? I shuddered, turning my attention back to the giant white.

  “And you are my den-mother; the only mother who cared for me,” I said, directing my affection towards her. It still hurt to realize that, even though I now knew that Amelia, my real mother, had died a long time ago and had never had a chance to look after me herself.

  Oh, Saffron. Sometimes I forget that you are still human, Zenema’s warm voice washed over my mind. You humans with your worries and doubts. Life is simpler as a dragon.

  “Yes, Queen Zenema,” I murmured, watching how Mother Gorlas started selecting herbs to crush into the water, and soon, a sharp and sweet smell filled the air.

  Daughter-Saffron, Lord Bower—come closer. There are things that I have wanted to tell you, important things that you should know, Zenema said, her voice taking on a more serious, darker tone, before I may not have the chance again.

  My heart sank in my chest at her words.

  You two have the same spark and fire that I remember of the old ways, of the old Riders of Torvald, Zenema croaked, and Bower’s chest swelled with pride as if it were the greatest compliment that anyone had ever paid him. Probably it was. I felt selfish and small though, because I wanted Zenema to say something else apart from our destiny.

  It is a long time past, but the memories of that time are coming back to me. I remember when I would fly over flat green lands, not the ever-moving blue of the Western oceans. Zenema’s voice purred. I think now that all of our minds have been fogged, both human and dragon. Something happened that drove a wedge between our races, and ensured that humans would hate dragons, and that dragons would forget their human companions.

  “The nightmare-magic?” Bower caught my eye. I nodded. It had to be.

  But you two, you have done something to break that old spell. Maybe it is just the fact that a Maddox and a Torvald are working together to unite the kingdom, or perhaps it is that you are both coming into your own magics. The world is a strange place, and whatever new power you two are creating between you, it is strong and breaking down the fog that stands between our races.

  “But we still have to fight the king,” Bower said at my side, and, once again, I felt that inner flash of anger, this time at Bower interrupting Zenema, and at how he thought this the right time to correct her—a queen!

  ‘Easy, sister,’ Jaydra said, raising her head to sniff in my direction.

  Zenema herself spoke next. Ah, Saffron-daughter, she said, her warmth brushing over my mind, and all at once I felt covered and contained with the fierce affection and pride emanating from our den-mother. I felt a stab of shame, for my immature flare of temper.

  Saffron, you are stronger than even you think. You are already brave, and you have more friends around you than you can see, Zenema said to me. Her voice, although weak, was comforting and encouraging. Of course, I knew these things, but somehow it seemed that, of late I had not been feeling them. What was happening to me? Was I giving into the dark side of my magic, and becoming like Enric?

  Child, you could never be like that evil man, Zenema assured me. If he is even a man at all anymore. I have seen your spirit, Saffron Maddox of Home Mountain, and it is pure.

  As soon as I heard those words, the fear and anger in my heart eased, draining away and leaving me feeling grateful that she was here. I did not feel strong like the white dragon insisted, instead I felt very sad that she had been hurt for us.

  Saffron, you have the greatest burden upon your shoulders, as it is you that will face King Enric. You will have to face that part of yourself that doubts your strengths, and lashes out, and is angry. You will have to learn to accept your p
ast, and even your family.

  “No!” The word burst out of me, shocking Bower and Mother Gorlas beside me. “I can’t do it,” I said, knowing that I spoke truth. I couldn’t accept the Maddox side of me. “You are my mother, Zenema!” I said. “No one else. Not the Maddoxes, not Torvald…”

  I could even feel the intake of breath of Bower beside me. He lived for the citadel, or seemed to. But right now the citadel seemed a long way away.

  No, Saffron. I am not your mother. I am Queen Zenema, and you are the one who will unite the old and the young, the dragons and the humans again. You will rule them from the air above and the land below. There is no shame in it. You are not King Enric, and he is not you. You are your own.

  Despite the fact that she was arguing with me, telling me how very wrong I was, there was no annoyance or anger coming from the dragon. Instead, I felt waves of compassion and pride. It made me feel even more unprepared for the battle to come.

  But there is also something else that I must tell you both, Zenema said in our minds. I commanded some of my brood to stay and guard the human villagers while the rest came with me. We left the islands as soon as we could, when we had diverted and harried the king’s navies.

  On the long flight here, I was remembering more and more about the old riders and how humans and dragons might have more in common than we thought. There used to be a time, an ancient time, when dragons would choose their human companions. This was even before your grandparents, Lord Bower. There was a time near the start of the world when the humans and the dragons would have a grand ceremony called The Choosing, which allowed any dragon that felt the call to seek out the human it felt companionship with. The dragons had to be prepared in their own way by the queen.

  “And the humans?” Bower said, eyes wide with excitement.

  And the humans would have to make sure that their heart was ready to be bonded with a dragon. The new pairings would be announced to the community of both dragons and humans, otherwise neither family would accept them, Zenema said.