Dragon Soul

by Diana Green

  “Doesn’t matter. There’s no better dragon anywhere. She should be glad I want her.”

  “Humble as ever,” Oliana muttered. “I can’t imagine why she doesn’t fall swooning at your feet.”

  “Exactly. I’ve tried everything—showing off and bringing her presents. None of it works.”

  “I don’t know what you expect me to do. I can’t make Lirris like you.”

  “But you could help me find the right words, maybe even write her a poem or something.”

  “You? Write a poem?” She couldn’t help laughing. It was such a preposterous idea.

  “I can do it. At least, I think I can, with your help. Or maybe you could just write it for me. That would be even better.”

  She frowned. “And why would I do that?”

  “I’ll owe you a giant favor. The biggest ever.”

  “I see.” She crossed her arms, considering. “You can start by giving my book back and leaving me in peace.”

  “What about the poem?”

  “I’ll think about it, but only if you leave me alone for the next hour. Understood?”

  “Sheesh. I don’t know why you have to be so—”

  “Goodbye Orlis.”

  “Bye, for now.” He tossed the book into her lap and left.

  Thank goodness! She found her place on the page and returned to reading. The hero went down on bended knee, his eyes alight with devotion. The heroine’s heart fluttered, and Oliana fluttered along with her. If only such a noble male would woo her.

  High-pitched giggles shredded her reverie. She peeked around the fuchsia to see Stesha, Ulani, and Mio coming through the garden gate. Their heads were tilted together, no doubt sharing gossip. Thankfully they hadn’t seen her.

  She hopped up, threading her way amongst the denser bushes to find a new hiding place. In the overcrowded fortress, solitude was hard to come by. Unfortunately, she could never leave without taking several guardians with her.

  Though the surrounding country was now fully conquered, her father worried for her safety. He protected her like a child, despite the fact she’d seen nineteen summers.

  How she wished to shift to drake form, leap into the air, and fly away. Wouldn’t that be marvelous? She could soar over the ocean, without another soul in sight.

  Of course that wasn’t going to happen. Someone would spot her the instant she tried, and her father would assign guards to go along. He didn’t understand how that ruined the experience.

  Temptation tickled at the back of her mind. She did have another option, albeit risky. If father found out, he’d have a fit. He’d be sure to seal the tunnel, and her secret would be spoiled.

  On the other hand, what good was a secret tunnel if it was never used? As long as she only left the fortress for a short time, no one would know. She’d just pop out for a quick expedition and be back before lunch.

  Excitement bubbled in her chest. What a perfect way to enliven an otherwise tedious day. Now it would be special, memorable, something to write about in her journal.

  She pushed through more shrubbery, brushing spider webs and seed pods from her hair. At last she reached the inner face of the fortress wall. It loomed over forty feet high, curving away to the north.

  Following along the wall’s base, she came to the abandoned temple. It had once been used for worship of the human’s gods, but now the door hung askew, and the floor tiles were cracked. One corner of the roof had caved in, allowing wind and weather to further damage the interior.

  She thought it sad, that such a pretty building should be left in ruins. Hardly anyone came here, except for children, to play, and possibly lovers seeking privacy. As far as she knew, none had discovered the tunnel. If her luck held, it would remain a secret.

  Picking her way through fallen debris, she reached the rear most room. From there she followed a set of narrow stone steps to an underground level. Without her dragon dark vision, which she enjoyed in both her forms, she wouldn’t have been able to see a thing. As it was, she could make out dim shapes.

  Behind a pile of rubble, the tunnel mouth opened. It appeared like nothing more than a darker shadow in the gloom. She had discovered it purely by chance and only once had the nerve to explore further.

  The other end came out into a wooded ravine, hidden from view of the fortress. Perhaps it provided an escape route for the humans who used to live here. Maybe some of them fled through this very tunnel when the dragons attacked.

  A twinge of uneasiness tightened her stomach. What if other humans used it now, to enter the stronghold? What if they came at night, to slaughter the dragons in their sleep? Her father would want to know such a possibility existed.

  But that was ridiculous. She shoved the thought away. Humans were puny and fearful, no match for dragons. Even taken by surprise, her father’s warriors would crush any attack. There was nothing to worry about.

  Unable to resist the lure of freedom, she crept into the tunnel. The air was stale, without a breath of movement. She felt along the sides, moving with care as the faint light faded, and the floor angled downward.

  An eternity seemed to pass as she made her way along the length of the tunnel. Once, her foot came down on a pile of animal bones, startling a shriek out of her. Several times, tiny creatures scurried across her hand, where it rested on the earthen wall. But she continued on, feeling every bit the brave determined heroine.

  Finally she came to the other end. The previous time she’d been there, she’d barely peeked from the tunnel mouth. Now she stepped boldly out, committed to full exploration.

  Light blinded her momentarily, as she moved into dappled sunshine and shade. Trees rustled in the breeze, and a small creek chortled merrily along the ravine bottom. Two gray squirrels dashed up a gnarled trunk, while a blue jay hopped from branch to branch, its feathers shiny as satin.

  What a charming place. She felt silly for not having come here before. There were no wild-eyed human rebels lurking behind the rocks. It was peaceful and utterly sweet.

  She made her way along the creek, jumping from rock to rock, till she found a deeper pool. Here the water rippled like liquid emerald and topaz, reflecting the surrounding foliage. She pulled off her shoes and sat on a fallen log, dabbling her toes in the water.

  Who cared if the hem of her skirt got wet? The fabric would dry soon enough. No one need ever know where she’d been. This was a treasure for her alone.

  Now, to finish the chapter she’d been reading before Orlis interrupted. She slipped the book from a pocket in her gown and turned to the marked page. Ah, yes. The hero on one knee, filled with poetic ardor.

  She soon became lost in the story, forgetting all about where she was or how much time passed. The heroine’s evil stepmother plotted against the young lovers, and a rival threatened to slay the hero. It was all terribly exciting.

  When she looked up, at last, the sun had moved to the west, and shadows grew long across the ravine. Despite the warmth of the afternoon, a chill brushed over her skin. She had forgotten about lunch, and someone might notice her missing.

  Then she saw him, standing on the far side of the pool. The stranger held so still, he might have been a statue, except his long silver hair lifted in the breeze. It struck her as an odd color, when his face showed no more lines than a male in his prime. It gave him an uncanny, ageless appearance.

  His eyes were cold gray, almost as pale as his hair. She’d never seen the like. They gleamed, as if lit from within, seeming to pierce through her.

  Was he human or dragon? Usually facial features, combined with body language and body type were enough to answer that question.

  With him it was not so easy. He was tall for a human but leaner than most male dragons. His clothes looked to be made of expensive cloth, but they were worn and travel stained.

  The proud set of his mouth spoke clearly of dragon, as did the arch of his brow, and the lordly way he stood. No cowering human slave, for certain. He studied her with a calm, almost frightening,
calculation. Didn’t he know who she was? Her father would tear him limb from limb if he dared lay a hand on her.

  “What is your name?” she demanded, rising from the fallen log.

  “You need never know.” His voice had a cool edge. He spoke three words she didn’t recognize, lifting his hand in a slow spiraling gesture.

  She tried to speak again, but her voice wouldn’t respond. Panic surged through her body as she tried to move, but nothing happened. Her legs remained planted to the ground, her arms locked at her sides, as if she had turned to stone.

  What sorcery did he wield? Magic was outlawed in her father’s land. How dare he defy the high-lord’s command?

  “You have saved me much trouble,” the stranger said, lips curving into something like a smile. It wasn’t the least bit comforting. “I didn’t know how to proceed with my plans, but you have shown me the way.”

  Help me! Please! Scared out of her wits, Oliana grasped for a mind link with her father, brother, or anyone. It didn’t matter who, just so long as they came to rescue her.

  “They won’t hear.” The stranger looked almost pitying. “I blocked your ability to link minds. There is nothing you can do.”

  Please! Save me! She screamed silently, praying he was bluffing. Could anyone steal a dragon’s mind link powers? And how did he know what she thought? Was he telepathic?

  “This is for the best,” he told her, leaping across a narrow point in the stream. He moved with the easy agility of a cat, making no more sound than a shadow.

  “You have an important role to play, whether you like it or not.” As he spoke, he came closer, reaching out to touch her cheek. “Strange. You look so harmless…innocent even. A person might forget what monsters spawned you.”

  His lips thinned to a grim line. “In truth, you’re no different from the rest, except in one important aspect. You are the one who’ll help me wipe dragons from the world. And for that, I thank you.”

  Chapter Two

  Hathos forced his mind to focus on the present moment, sending healing energy to Arkin’s fractured arm. It appeared to be a complex break and not easy to mend. This wasn’t a good time for his thoughts to wander.

  On the other side of the bed, Orwenna worked with Arkin’s shattered ankle. She had the harder task, but she also had more experience. Magic radiated around her body as she worked, giving her a celestial glow.

  Over the last few years, gray had begun to streak her hair, and the lines around her eyes deepened. She moved slower and went to bed earlier in the evenings. These were all normal signs of aging, but the process happened so much faster with humans. It saddened him.

  Though they weren’t related by blood—Orwenna being his father’s stepmother—she had always felt like a natural grandmother to Hathos. More than that, she was his teacher, guiding him in the uses of magic. His strengths differed from hers, but the instruction she provided proved invaluable. No one else in the clan had her knowledge.

  At first she taught him spells and charms, but try as he might, Hathos couldn’t master them. Healing came naturally, as did the art of divination. He had a gift for seeing beyond the boundaries of time and space, often receiving insight from his dreams.

  That’s what distracted him now. He’d had a powerful dream the night before. It was so vivid and real, he couldn’t shake it, though the day was almost over.

  “All better,” Orwenna said, patting Arkin’s ankle. “I hope you’ll be more careful in the future.”

  “I will. Sorry.” Arkin looked remorseful, and she gave him a tired smile.

  “How is the arm coming along?” she asked Hathos.

  “Almost finished. I’m not as fast as you.”

  “That’s all right. It’s more important to do the job well.”

  Reining in his scattered thoughts, he completed the healing, aware of Orwenna’s thoughtful gaze resting on him. She probably sensed something was amiss.

  Arkin thanked them both, hurrying out of the infirmary with a quick salute. He looked anxious to be up and about, active as always. In that, he was typical of most young dragon males, bursting with energy.

  Watching him leave, Hathos felt wistful. He had never fit in with the clan youths, lacking the fiery drive that kept them all scouring the mountains for challenge and adventure. His was a quieter nature. It set him apart, a solitary soul, even amongst his own kind.

  “Come onto the balcony and clear your head,” Orwenna suggested. She stood in the stone archway leading outside. “I made sandwiches, for lunch, but we never had time to eat.”

  Dragonvale’s rooms and balconies were carved into a cliff face, affording them pleasant shade at this time of day. Below, the valley stretched golden in the slanting light, while the highest mountain peaks shone with snowy brilliance.

  “I never grow weary of this view,” Orwenna said, taking a seat at the round stone table. “I fell in love with it, from the first day I arrived.”

  “Thank goodness you decided to stay.” He couldn’t imagine Dragonvale without her. How incredible, to think the clan ever hesitated in accepting this exceptional woman.

  Orwenna gave a gentle laugh. “How could I resist? Huroth is the love of my life, after all. “ She pushed the plate of sandwiches toward him. “Now eat.”

  They both fell silent, focused on their food. The sun sank lower, the light turning to rich amber. It glowed over wildflowers, thickets of vine maples, and stately cedars. A long V of geese winged overhead, starting south for the cold season.

  “It’s early for migration, don’t you think?” He watched the birds with a vague unease.

  “Maybe we’ll have a hard winter,” she said. “Animals can sometimes sense these things.”

  He shivered, foreboding prickling his neck and down his spine. Something was coming. He felt it under his skin like an itch. A storm approached, but not the kind bringing wind or rain. No. He sensed a far stranger disruption, something he couldn’t easily define.

  “Want to share what’s bothering you?” She fixed him with a knowing look. “You’ve been distracted and jumpy all day.”

  “I had a dream…about a golden she-dragon.” He swallowed, aware of how silly that sounded. Young males often dreamed of such things, but this was different.

  “Go on,” Orwenna encouraged.

  “She was in trouble, trapped in some way. I couldn’t see what held her, but the pain and fear were palpable. I felt them like they were my own, as if there was no separation between us.”

  “You’ve always had strong empathic tendencies. Do you think this she-dragon is a real living being, trying to contact you?”

  “Yes. I’m sure of it. She reached out to me, calling for help. There has to be something I can do.”

  “Did you learn her name or where she comes from?”

  “No. The dream gave me nothing useful.” Frustration colored his voice.

  “Are you sure?” Orwenna leaned forward. “Consider any impressions you’ve had, even awake.”

  “Well…” He thought back over the day. “I have been unsettled, feeling like something’s about to happen. It was especially strong when I watched the geese flying over, just now. I sensed they were flying toward a gathering storm.”

  “In the south?”

  “Yes.”

  “Interesting. I wonder what it means.”

  “I feel like I should take some action, but I don’t know—”

  Surprise! I’m home!

  Words plowed into his consciousness, interrupting his stream of thought. The mind link was vibrant and unmistakable. It sent a jolt of happiness through him. Valla must have arrived from Red Crag.

  He looked up and glimpsed her azure wings silhouetted against the pale sky. She dove, dropping past them at an alarming rate, only to pull up at the last moment and land flawlessly on the balcony of the main hall. It sat just twenty feet down the cliff, affording them a fine view of the spectacle.

  “She’s such a show off,” he said, unable to keep the smile from hi
s face.

  “Ever since childhood,” Orwenna agreed.

  He hurried to the balcony railing and leaned over, giving Valla a wave. She raised a wing, tipping her head back in a roar of greeting. Her scales shimmered with the colors of a summer ocean, while her eyes glinted like aquamarine jewels.

  Other dragons rushed out of the main hall to welcome her. More than three years had passed since she left to live with the Red Crag clan, and they all missed her. She was the eldest of the new generation, born after the mysterious ice spell ended. It made her a surrogate big sister for the younger dragons, Hathos included.

  Before his eyes, she shifted to eldrin form, ancient magic rippling and swirling around her like smoke. One moment she was a winged fire-breather, the next she held the form of a woman.

  Her hair fell in luxuriant dark waves. It framed high cheekbones, an expressive mouth, and eyes that were usually greenish-blue but sometimes deepened to indigo with strong emotion. In this she was a blending of both her parents, Rhourik and Abeah.

  In personality she also expressed their two influences. Like her father she was brave and generous. Like her mother, proud, willful, and given to bursts of temper. Few in the clan had escaped her sharp-tongue, but she was equally quick to offer praise and help.

  She had been protective of Hathos, as a child, especially when the others hassled him. Young dragons were boisterous and given to rowdy play, but Valla always made sure he was looked after. It created a bond between the two of them.

  He ran to the main hall, eager to speak with her. This visit was a surprise. Had her mate-bonding with Drang, the Red Crag chieftain, turned sour? If that was the case, he wouldn’t mind.

  Like most of the young males, he was a touch smitten with Valla. She was bold, beautiful, and one of the clan’s fiercest warriors. Who wouldn’t find such traits compelling?

  Confident strength radiated from her as she moved through the hall, embracing some dragons, punching others playfully on the arm. She wore supple leather armor, fitted to her lean form like a glove. A sword and two knives hung strapped to her belt, while daggers peeked from sheaths sewn into her knee-high boots.