Dragons of Dark (Upon Dragons Breath Trilogy Book 3)

by Ava Richardson

  One by one, each of the precious pouches of the nightmare-magic remedy proved empty apart from a few crumbs.

  “Could someone come in here and use them? Maybe they didn’t know what the potion was for?” I asked, feeling secretly relieved, but also a little scared. I was no longer protected. I would be free to use my magic, but would also be at the mercy of the king.

  “All of our apprentices know not to touch this bench!” Mother Gorlas was suddenly angry. “And the mixture is so unique, that I cannot imagine it being used for any other purpose…”

  A little bird skull on the end of a string, the skull no bigger than my thumb…

  I was hit by a sudden memory. “Wait. How long did you say it took for the potion to work?”

  Mother Gorlas’s eyes flared in annoyance. “I am not the one to be speaking to about this. It is Dol Agur, clearly, who has been rearranging or interfering with my things!”

  “No wait, Mother Gorlas, this is important. You said it would take a few hours to work, after I drink it?” I pressed.

  “Yes. At least, that is how it seems to work for you,” Mother Gorlas said. “You drink at morning and nighttime, and a few hours later, you appear to be…dulled somewhat. When you imbibe the potion at night, its effects last the seven, eight watches right through until morning…”

  “So,” I reasoned, “the person who drank it might not even know about it for a few hours?” I said.

  “No, I shouldn’t think so. And the effect will build slowly, so that you might not even notice at all.” Mother Gorlas frowned at me. “What is it? Out with it, Saffron!”

  “Well, not only were we betrayed on the river plain,” I said hesitantly, wondering if it was a good idea to tell her. But I had to. “But something happened out there, between the riders and the dragons. Suddenly all of the dragons started to lose their sense of their riders,” I said a little nervously.

  “Their sense of their riders?” Mother Gorlas repeated. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, the dragons can sense their riders, not just their bodies, but their emotions, their desires, and their fears,” I said, trying to explain the bond that I had with Jaydra. How could I explain the fact of something so simple; that I was brought up with Jaydra, and together we are one? And that over time the same thing would likely happen, was already happening, between riders and the dragons they rode.

  “And the dragons use that bond to help them fly in formation. Anyway, just before we were ambushed, that link was suddenly cut off. The dragons and the riders couldn’t fly as well as they had, they couldn’t fight as well, they couldn’t act as one. It felt the same as when I take the potion.”

  “Did this thing happen to you, as well, out there?” Mother Gorlas asked severely.

  “Yes,” I said immediately.

  “And you think that it is the potion doing this?” Mother Gorlas asked.

  “I know it is,” I answered emphatically.

  “But you are so close to Jaydra!” She shook her head. “This is terrible! Why didn’t you tell me it had this effect before? We cannot afford to keep on using it if it kills your connection with your dragon-sister!” Mother Gorlas said, and my heart crowed in triumph that she understood how important this was to me.

  “What if someone dosed all of the Dragon Riders heading east the morning of our departure?” I asked, my suspicions already coming to their terrible conclusion.

  “But how?” Mother Gorlas asked, shaking her head. “Who would do such a thing? Who is the traitor?”

  And then it hit me. The porridge we’d all eaten that morning. The extra helping of honey.

  “I think I know,” and I shook my head, furious and hurt.

  22

  Bower, Who Kills, Leads

  “We have heard, Lord Bower, that you lost not only ten riders on your recent raid, but also five dragons!” Chief Vere announced to the assembled throng, not even bothering to look at me as he spoke.

  I stood in the crowded main tent, the air heavy with smoke and the scent of cooked meats and wild herbs, facing the chiefs and the heads of the camp for what seemed more like an interrogation than the dinner and discussion it had been billed as. This is all an act on Chief Vere’s part, I thought. The man played the crowd expertly, first turning to one side of the room and then to the other, making sure that he maintained eye contact with those who were unsure of supporting him, and relying upon the cheers, and the snarls, of those who already did.

  “More food, sir?” said Tan, at my elbow. He looked pale and confused by the raised voices, the undercurrent of anger and suspicion in the air.

  “No thanks, Tan. Go on, get yourself some food and get going.” I motioned towards the flap in the tent.

  “Thank you, sir,” Tan said, ducking his head and making his way quickly to the back of the large tent. He’s only a few years younger than I was when I started this whole adventure. Was I ever really that young? That immature? I must have done a lot of growing up over the last year or so. I thought back to my long escape from Torvald, of hiding by the sides of roads, of finding solace and learning how to look after myself, and then meeting Saffron.

  My mind immediately went to my closest friend, whom I knew was even now drinking the terrible potion that would dull her connection with her den-sister Jaydra. My stomach knotted. What was I doing to her? Did I have to do this? I had some vague idea that, with my king’s ability to talk to any dragon, I might be able to act as some sort of go-between between her and Jaydra, between the riders and their mounts, but could I coordinate an entire attack on my own? Was my ability really that strong?

  “Five dragons, Lord Bower!” Vere was almost shouting this time and was joined by a rising clamor as the burliest Three Rivers warriors pounded the tables with their knives and fists in agreement. “How can we continue like this, forever losing dragons? Did we not lose dragons and many fine warriors in our first battle, when we also lost our War Chief Ryland?” he thundered. “And did we not also lose dragons and warriors on Lord Bower’s latest escapade?”

  My dislike for the large, mustached man deepened. We were betrayed, my mind kept repeating to me. We were betrayed, and this man is beginning to sound very much as if he might be the one responsible!

  Betrayal? A reptilian voice slid into the back of my mind, and I knew the shape of that mind immediately. It was Jaydra. If this man opposes you, you must fight him. Dragons are either strong or they are weak. Whether this man betrayed you or not, he is your enemy.

  “I don’t know yet if he is the traitor,” I whispered as I confided in her, wishing that life were so simple as it seemed for a dragon. In Jaydra’s world, I reckoned the solution would be as simple as challenging Vere for being her enemy, and fighting until first blood.

  But a king cannot fight all of those who would be his enemies, I thought.

  Why not? Kings need to rule. Those who kill, lead, Jaydra said in my mind. Apart from the increasing enthusiasm that I had for such an idea, I knew that I couldn’t.

  “A king has many enemies,” I whispered under my breath to Jaydra, and left the explanation at that as Vere turned once more to me, emboldened by his supporters.

  “Really, Lord Bower, our force was already so small compared to King Enric’s, and now after losing five dragons,” he began, raising himself up and putting on his most humble and considered of expressions, “it’s clear that we cannot defeat the king in open battle.”

  Here it comes, I thought.

  “But our very young king will find out, I am sure, that not everything can be solved by heroes and heroines in armor, bearing swords,” Vere went on, and though I knew he was baiting me, I couldn’t stop the anger that welled up in me.

  I gritted my teeth at this insult.

  Kill! Kill! Kill! Jaydra in my mind was saying, and I found that I had stood up, my muscles tensing as if I were about to leap over the tables and throttle Vere with my bare hands. Things would be so much easier if I could deal with things as a dragon would, I thought, as
a cool hand touched my fist.

  “Easy, Lord Bower,” murmured Dol Agur at my side, though her fist clenched tightly around her war hammer, resting lightly on the table.

  How dare he! I thought. It was Vere’s decision for me to lead a raid, to prove my strength to the rest of the warriors.

  Those who kill, lead, Jaydra said once again, fueling the fury rising in my blood. I would almost have given in to it, even casting aside Dol Agur’s hand from my own and launching myself at the fattened Three Rivers Chief were it not for the look of gleeful malice in Vere’s jowls. He’s enjoying this, I realized. He wants me to lose my temper, so that he can claim that I am but a petulant child.

  “And, pray tell the assembled, Chief Vere, just what do you think would be a solution to the tyranny of the king?” I asked, my voice dripping with acid.

  “Very well, I shall spell it out for you,” Chief Vere said and his lackeys laughed with derision. “Here, then is what we should do: we should retreat to the mountains, back to where us Three Rivers peoples come from.” There was a muted cheer from his side of the room at that suggestion. “And, quite simply, we keep training the dragons, and we inform the king that if he ever wishes to regain control of the mountains and our mines ever again, then he will have to treat with us. Make concessions. Offer us some of that southern trade.”

  This time, the cheers from his side of the room were much more hesitant than they had been previously. I could see that the assembled warriors and chiefs were wary of the idea of treating with such a callous and cruel tyrant as Enric.

  “And does the Chief Vere believe that King Enric will react kindly, or generously, or even reasonably to these demands?” I asked. At my side Dol Agur nodded at the question, and I even got a few ayes from the far side of the room.

  “The king can react however he wants, but he will have to treat with us if he ever wants access to the mountains!” Chief Vere said pompously.

  I opened my mouth to accuse him of stupidity, but, before I could, Dol Agur stood, and with one loud thunk, struck the feasting table with her hammer. The sound was loud enough that everyone suddenly sat up and paid attention.

  “Chief Vere is a fool,” Dol Agur said, to the agreement of her fellow Stone Tooth heads. “We Stone Tooth who live in the farthest north, past mountains that few human feet have ever trod, have been attacked by the king. We thought for many generations that we were safe from the wars of the southern lands. But we were wrong. The king sent his armies to us in flying machines that destroyed many of my kinsmen and women, just as they destroyed the village of Kingswood above us. If Chief Vere thinks that he will be unreachable in the mountains, then he is much mistaken.”

  “And the dragons will not answer to Chief Vere,” said a voice by the tent door, and I turned in shock to see Saffron, Mother Gorlas, and the other wisewomen and shamans of both Three Rivers and Stone Tooth at her side. Together they filed into the tent, marching without pause, claiming the space as theirs.

  Had she taken the potion? Saffron looked fiery and impassioned, not subdued and tranquilized as she usually was after she had taken the concoction.

  My sister! Jaydra’s voice echoed inside my own head, as I heard, in a curious doubling-effect, her dragon roar of joy.

  “Lady Saffron,” Chief Vere turned, alarmed at the intrusion. “Please await your turn to speak!” he began haughtily, but Saffron ignored him.

  “If Chief Vere wishes the dragons to fly with him, then he will have to agree to my terms,” Saffron said, standing directly in front of Vere, alongside me, her eyes flashing angrily as she stared around the room. “Mine and Lord Bower’s.”

  The stunned silence held for just a moment, before the room erupted into uproar.

  “Saffron!” I said, half in excitement, half in shock. Leading was a delicate business, and a king couldn’t just go around demanding obedience. As much as I wanted to remind her of this, I couldn’t bring myself to as I admired her confidence so much.

  More than that, I realized I agreed with her.

  “Lord Bower!” Chief Vere roared. “Are you going to stand for this—this hijacking of the rebellion? Will you do whatever the dragons say?”

  That was when I saw it. What was really motivating the Three Rivers Chief: fear. He is still afraid of the dragons, I thought. Just like the Three-Rivers clan’s people of old, who used their wild mountain dragons for sport and servitude, he thinks dragons are only there to be controlled, or driven away.

  The tent’s canvas walls were shaking with the clamor of people pounding plates against the tables, and feet stamping on the mud floor. Everywhere, the warriors voiced their agreement or derision of one side or the other. Saffron bent her head towards mine.

  “We know who the traitor is. It isn’t Vere,” she whispered, and I looked at her in shock, but she shook her head quickly. “Not now. Not here.”

  I nodded and turned back to survey the chaos. Everywhere warriors argued, while the wisewomen and shamans of both clans argued back, castigating them for being fools. The room was fairly evenly split amongst those who appeared to be siding with Chief Vere, and those who were siding with Saffron, me, and the dragons. Most of our contingent, rather unsurprisingly, were made up of the Stone Tooth clan, as well as most of the newly chosen Dragon Riders of both tribes. The other side consisted mostly of refugees and Three Rivers warriors who had no direct dragon experience.

  But the tide was turning. Mother Gorlas and the other wisewomen had convinced the refugee families that our side was the only one that made any sense, and the representative of a large contingent of Kingswood families loudly proclaimed, “We aren’t going to be fodder for the king’s archers again!” and crossed to our side of the room.

  Chief Vere and his cohorts were losing, and they looked one way and then the other, angry and scared.

  They are the hardcore Three Rivers warriors who had always hated dragons, I thought.

  “Will you stand for this? To have dragon masters?” Chief Vere railed at the crowd. “What if they decide that you, and your flock, or your children are fit meat for their bellies?”

  “That’s it!” I shouted at the terrible accusation, crossing over the table, but Saffron reacted even faster. In the fraction of a second before I finished speaking, she had already crossed the space and slapped Chief Vere good and hard across the face. The sound was sharp like a whip crack, and reverberated around the room.

  “How, how dare you, a woman, strike me!” Vere growled, rolling and cracking his shoulders. My hatred for him deepened. So he wasn’t just an idiot, he was a bigot as well, I thought.

  “How dare you insult the dragons who have done nothing but be imprisoned and starved by you, who have seen their den-brothers, their den-sisters, and their den-mother slain for your stupidity!” Saffron countered.

  Vere was furious, and he moved with a speed that I did not know that he possessed. His hand swept out and backhanded Saffron across the cheek. Although Saffron was clearly the fitter of the two, she was still much smaller compared to the chief’s prodigious weight and bulk. She fell backwards and hit the feasting tables with a heavy thump, blood splattering from her lip.

  “No!” I stepped forward to Saffron’s side, my hands moving to the weapon at my hip as I shielded her body.

  The stunned silence in the tent only deepened as the night outside erupted into the howls and shrieks of the island dragons. Even though we couldn’t see them, we could all hear the thunder of their wings as they lifted into the air to rally around our tent, baying for the blood of the one who had struck their sister and friend.

  “See?” Vere roared. “Now do you see? That witch girl has called the dragons, and you would have us live in fear under them!” He pointed a slender, wickedly sharp dagger at us.

  The dragons called louder now, and the tent’s canvas whipped and cracked with the wind of their passage. No one inside the tent dared speak.

  “Chief Vere,” I demanded, and the large man’s eyes were vicious and hate-fi
lled. He has never wished to follow me, not at all. In my hand was my own dagger, not as sharp or as fine as his, but functional and rough. “You have struck a trusted companion of your king, and for that, I will give you a choice of punishment,” I said, my words spilling from my mouth before I had a chance to think what I was saying.

  Kill! Kill! Kill! The words of Jaydra and the other dragons were filling my mind.

  “You can either flee this place with whomever wishes to go with you. Flee to the king or flee to the ends of the world for all I care, but never, ever come back to the Middle Kingdom again—”

  “Bah!” Vere spat disgustedly.

  “—or you can face me, right now, in single combat,” I said.

  “Lord Bower! No!” Dol Agur hissed behind me. I knew what they were thinking. That one slip of the knife and they would lose their king. But they will have Saffron, I knew. And I would not stand and let her be attacked in my presence.

  “On what authority can you command anything of me, boy!” Chief Vere spat.

  “On the authority of the rightful throne of Torvald,” I said. “On the authority of the sacred Dragon Mountain. On the authority of the dragons that circle around us, and of the blood that is within my veins.”

  The air inside the room crackled with the tension, as they watched the much larger chief and once a great warrior tower over me, the boy-king.

  “You have your choice, Vere. The only hope for this world is with my blood and with Saffron’s dragons. Either stand with us, or get out of the way!” I demanded.

  Chief Vere moved. Without a grunt or a snarl or any sign, he lunged forward with a sharp stabbing movement. I only just managed to counter him, parrying the blow with my own blade and sending a shockwave up my arm into my elbow. I didn’t even know how to parry with a knife, it was so small compared to a sword, but I tried not to think about it as Chief Vere came at me again.