Dragon Soul

by Diana Green

  Hathos waited by the massive stone fireplace, hesitant to push through the gathering. The clan had grown in number, and they formed quite a crowd, thankfully all in eldrin form. There wasn’t a room big enough, to hold them as drakes.

  “Hathos!” she cried, coming over and embracing him. “How’s my favorite dreamer?”

  “I’m well. How are you?”

  Her smile slipped a little. “I’ve been worse.”

  Did he sense a thread of discontent, woven through her words? There might be more to her arrival than a simple visit home.

  “How long will you be staying with us?”

  “I can’t say for sure.” She avoided his eyes. “My plans aren’t solid yet.”

  “No matter.” He squeezed her hand. “We’re just happy to have you home, for any length of time.”

  “Thanks.” Warmth returned to her voice and she gave him another hug. “It is good to see everyone.”

  ****

  Valla slogged up the steep slope, forcing her legs to continue pumping, even though they ached from the effort. She’d run miles already, seeking the calm brought on by exhaustion. Lately, that seemed the only way to quiet her restlessness.

  Staying in eldrin form worked best. Like this, an hour or two of rigorous exertion gave her relief. Her drake body had too much energy. It took days to wear it down.

  If only she understood what forces drove her. Why did she yearn for more than the life she had, certain some greater destiny awaited, beyond the curve of the horizon? How could contentment be so elusive?

  Hers was not a bad lot. Far from it. She loved her family and friends, both at Dragonvale and Red Crag. This was a time of unprecedented peace for the clans, with little internal strife and no significant external dangers. She should be happy.

  Perhaps that was the problem. Life was so easy, of late, it provided no way to test herself. The warrior skills she’d worked hard to hone were of little use. Her powers as a dragon weren’t needed.

  Years earlier, human tribes from the north had formed an alliance with the remaining trolkin. Together, men and monsters rose up, attacking both dragon clans as well as many human villages. It had been a difficult time, pushing her to the limits of her stamina, courage, and ability.

  She’d just come of age when the fighting broke out. It was her first battle experience, and she proved herself many times over. This was what she was born to do, defend the clan and demolish the enemy. Nothing could be clearer.

  Despite the hardships of that time, she’d never again felt so alive. As a warrior, her sense of purpose had been rock solid, her contributions unmistakable. Now, she lacked direction. There was no foe to vanquish, no victory to secure.

  Most she-dragons her age had offspring, motherhood giving their life focus. Though she mate-bonded with Drang, no pregnancy resulted. Over time he grew resentful, desire for an heir proving stronger than his feelings for her.

  Finally, they agreed to part ways. Their passion had been brief and volatile, not a foundation for lifelong partnership. He immediately mate-bonded with another, and she returned to Dragonvale.

  Some might think her unhappiness stemmed from the ending of their relationship, but she knew better. Drang had never been her true love. He provided a temporary distraction only. Surely life had more to offer than superficial dalliances.

  Breaking through the tree line, she jogged onto a rocky ridge, now lit with the first rays of dawn. Wooded mountainsides dropped away on both sides, still shaded from the early sun. Mist clung to the valleys in soft shrouds.

  Drinking deep of the cool air, she turned to face the sunrise. Swaths of pale blue contrasted with orange and pink clouds, creating a glorious palette of color and light.

  “Oatha!” she cried, lifting her arms to the sky. “Show me the way. What am I here for? Where is the path I was born to walk?”

  A pair of hawks soared overhead, wings tipped with gold, their sharp calls the only sound to break the morning stillness. She stood, open and waiting, but nothing happened. No divine guidance appeared. No inspiration struck. Oatha had given her life, but what she did with it remained her responsibility.

  “Some kind of sign would be helpful,” she grumbled. Hathos received portents in his dreams. Was it too much to ask that she be given a message also? Just a hint, pointing her in the right direction.

  The scent of elk wafted to her sensitive dragon nose, drawing her thoughts away from her troubles. Holding a hand up to shade her eyes, she searched the mountainside. There they were, a small herd, entering a clearing less than a mile away.

  She hadn’t answered the big questions in her life, but at least she could do something useful. Hunting put food on the table, and there were worse ways to spend a morning.

  She left the ridge top and jogged down a densely forested slope. Evergreen needles softened her footfalls, releasing their sharp clean smell into the air. An owl winged silently through the dim trees, bound for home before the sun rose higher.

  Valla, I need to speak with you, right away. Where are you? Hathos sent the words to her, his agitation obvious.

  I’m hunting. What’s so urgent?

  I’ve just had a vision, and you were in it. I think you’re supposed to go south with me.

  Go south? This was the first she’d heard of it. What are you talking about?

  I’ve been having these dreams…His mind link fell silent a moment. It’s not easy to explain. Can we do this face to face, please?

  Of course. Just give me a few minutes. Her curiosity aroused, she decided to postpone the hunt.

  I’ll be having breakfast in the main hall. Meet me there.

  She ran to an opening in the trees, large enough for her to comfortably shift. Dragonvale was only a short flight away, in drake form, and she didn’t want to delay. It hadn’t escaped her notice that Hathos’ vision coincided with her own prayer to Oatha. Maybe she’d receive a sign, after all.

  Excitement sped her wings as she raced home. Why was Hathos planning to travel south? He’d never spoken of a desire to explore. Was his mission dangerous, hence the need for her help?

  More questions tumbled through her mind as she landed in the largest cave, at the top of Dragonvale’s cliff. She shifted back to eldrin form, hurrying down stone steps and passageways to the main hall. Morning sun poured in the eastern windows, while tempting aromas of sausage and oat cakes filled the room.

  Valla’s mouth watered as she heaped food on a large plate. Rising in the wee hours and running for miles honed her appetite. She felt like she could eat a mountain goat.

  Hathos sat with his parents near the fireplace. Harith and Nyssa looked robust and happy as usual. It was enviable how well their union had weathered the years. Never had two dragons shared a stronger more joyful love.

  How did they do it? Her own parents had often fought, and she had yet to find a stable partnership. Perhaps she was too much like her mother. No matter how many mate-bonds Abeah entered, none of them lasted.

  “Come eat with us,” Nyssa called, waving her over.

  Valla joined them, sitting down next to Hathos. He looked handsome as ever, his coppery hair shining in the morning sun, just a few shades darker than his mother’s fiery curls. His finely sculpted features mirrored Harith’s face, but his eyes were unlike either parent.

  A beautiful mix of green and golden brown, they made her think of a summer glade, warm and inviting. She never felt judged by those eyes. They might sometimes look sad or distant, but unlike Drang’s eyes, they were never cold and dismissive.

  “Sorry to make such a fuss,” he said, giving her an apologetic smile. “I shouldn’t have interrupted your hunt, but I was caught up in my vision. I couldn’t think straight.”

  “Not a problem. I’m dying to hear what it’s all about and why you’re going south.”

  “We’re eager to hear the same,” Harith said, stabbing a sausage link with his fork. Despite his calm exterior, a spark of concern shone in his midnight eyes. He probably wasn�
�t thrilled to learn his son planned to leave Dragonvale.

  “I’ve been having a string of intense dreams,” Hathos explained, keeping his voice low. “In them, a golden she-dragon is calling to me for help. She’s being held captive by a sorcerer. I sense him at the edge of her awareness, like an ever-present shadow. She’s terrified and desperate to escape.”

  “What’s his reason for keeping her?” Nyssa asked.

  “I don’t know. All I get are impressions. Whatever he’s doing, it causes her pain. She’s also frightened for the fate of her family and the other dragons they live with. This sorcerer means to harm them.”

  “How many other dragons?” Valla couldn’t hide her surprise. Their clan had long since given up searching for more of their kind. “Do you think they really exist?”

  “I can’t explain it, but yes. I’m sure the she-dragon is real, and so are the ones she fears for. There seem to be quite a number of them.”

  “That’s fantastic!” She had enough experience with Hathos’ dreams to believe him. His sixth sense usually proved to be spot on.

  “The best I can tell, they live far to the south, which is likely the reason we haven’t heard of them. In my dreams I’ve caught glimpses of brown hills beside a turquoise ocean.”

  “So, you want to travel there to help?” Nyssa’s brow furrowed as she spoke. “That could be a tremendous journey, and you have so little information to go on.”

  “I realize it sounds crazy, but I can feel her need drawing me. I have to answer her call, or the—”

  “And you want me to come along?” Valla interjected, unable to contain herself. It had the makings of an excellent adventure, freeing an innocent captive and discovering a new dragon clan. Maybe with fresh options to choose from, she’d finally find her life-mate.

  “I didn’t plan on asking anyone to accompany me.” Hathos stared at his plate. “It could be a long time before we come home, and I can’t know what dangers we’ll face, along the way. It’s a lot to expect of anyone.”

  “But this morning you had a vision, with me in it?” she prodded.

  “Yes. It seems you have a role to play.” He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “The vision showed many things, most of which I don’t understand…strange lands, creatures I’ve never heard of, unimaginable magic…and all connected to the sorcerer and the she-dragon. I’m certain there’s more at stake than the fate of one individual. Powerful forces will be unleashed, and we have to do something to stop it from happening.”

  “That’s a huge leap to make on faith,” Harith said, frowning. “Perhaps you should wait till you’ve spoken with Ruki at Red Crag. She’s experienced with magical visions, and it would only take a fortnight to visit her.”

  “No.” Hathos straightened and shook his head. “We must leave now. The sooner the better. It might already be too late.”

  “Too late for what? You’re making no sense.” Nyssa’s voice sounded tight with worry.

  “Visions don’t always make sense.” Hathos grimaced and shoved his plate away. “I can’t explain it. You’ll just have to trust me.”

  “I do,” Valla offered. “And I’m ready to leave with you. Today.” She’d asked Oatha to reveal her path, and now it lay before her, clear to see. A heroic quest was exactly what she needed.

  Hathos released a long breath. “I’m so glad to hear you say that.”

  “Of course you are.” She grinned. “I’ll make sure you get home in one piece.”

  “This is all so sudden,” Nyssa said, turning her eyes to Valla. “But I feel better knowing you’re going with him. Fighting has never been a strength for Hathos.”

  “And reading the future has never been one for me. This way, we make a perfect team.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Chapter Three

  The young she-dragon moaned, stirring restlessly in her sleep. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her skin looked paler than it had a week ago. Vadin noted the changes with a twinge of guilt. She suffered, and it was his doing.

  “I can afford no pity,” he muttered, turning away from her moonlit cell. How much worse did the human slaves suffer, beaten into submission by their dragon masters? This creature didn’t deserve compassion. She was the daughter of a despotic monster, complicit in his brutal crimes.

  When he first took her from the ravine near the fortress, he hadn’t known her lineage. The fact he’d found a lone dragon seemed fortune enough. Then he read her mind and learned her father claimed the position of ruler, fashioned after the dragon lords of old.

  Like them, this tyrant had to be stopped. The humans in this region were overpowered, unable to fight their own battles, so it fell to Vadin. He couldn’t spare sympathy for one whimpering female. Her sacrifice remained critical to his victory.

  Striding outside, he welcomed the brisk night breeze on his face. The day had been unusually hot and still for this windy island. The sea had lain flat as glass, the rocky bluffs seeming to ripple as they baked under the noon sun.

  Now the waves were choppy, their whitecaps glowing under the moon as they pounded the shore. He breathed deeply of the salty air, letting it wash away his doubts. The path before him required absolute commitment. There was no room for a soft heart or wavering mind. Too much rested on his success.

  He’d tried various types of magic on the she-dragon, but so far nothing backfired. It remained a mystery why the ice spell had imprisoned him. What differed between his sorcery then and now?

  Pacing the narrow beach, surrounded by the booming surf, he pondered this question. In casting the ice spell, he’d targeted all dragons, not just one. Perhaps that was the key.

  Somehow he shared a defining quality with dragons, a marker the spell sought out before activating. Instead of responding to a specific individual, the magic was triggered by a vital essence, an attribute basic to all dragons.

  If only he could isolate that singular quality, he’d have his answer. But how, when he dealt with a race who changed to a second form at will?

  For millennia dragons had been shape-shifters, since they first encountered and admired the eldrin. Legends told of how Aurek, the dragon hero, learned to shift his scales, spikes, and leathery wings, to take on eldrin form, mimicking those who were the first and greatest of all races. The beautiful immortals befriended him and taught him magic. And so, dragons and eldrin mingled.

  How was Vadin to separate those two essences? None of his arcane books contained such a spell. Of course, true eldrin had not walked the world for many a long age. They were lost in an ancient war with demons, sacrificing themselves to save all others. Beyond that, little was known of them.

  But what if he sought the she-dragon’s essence at the exact moment of shape-shifting? When changing into a drake, wouldn’t the beast’s defining qualities be revealed? Everything he knew of transformation magic led him to believe it was possible.

  Anticipation fueled his steps as he hurried back from the beach. How had he overlooked this possibility? His reliance on spell-books might have become a handicap. He explored uncharted territory now and so must think for himself.

  Above him, the half-ruined tower loomed, a darker shadow against the starry night sky. It wasn’t the most comfortable dwelling, but given his circumstances he couldn’t be choosy. At least it had a functioning prison cell. The roof kept out most weather, and the hall served as a ritual chamber.

  Finding the island with its abandoned tower had been fortuitous. Almost as lucky as capturing a lone dragon. If he believed in gods, he’d have sworn they supported his cause.

  “Get up,” he barked, rapping on the cell door. “We have work to do.”

  “It’s the middle of the night,” the she-dragon mumbled, pulling a tattered blanket over her head. “Leave me alone.”

  “You will do as I say.” He drew a symbol in the air and spoke an ancient word of power. “Rise.”

  She complied, unable to resist the control of his magic. In silence they descended the long st
airs. Gaping holes in the tower wall allowed moonlight to illumine their way. At the bottom, a rat dashed across the cracked and pitted floor, disappearing behind a pile of rubble.

  Vadin considered killing the rodent, but he needed to save energy for working with the she-dragon. One rat, more or less, wouldn’t make a difference. The place was a hovel, but it suited his purpose well enough.

  They entered the hall, a cavernous space, large enough to accommodate more than one dragon in drake form. This room served as his ritual chamber, while he used the kitchen for eating and sleeping. Here, he’d cleared away all the broken and decayed furniture, leaving only a table for his magical implements.

  At times like this, he sorely missed his blue sorcerer’s staff. It had been a tool of great power—impossible to replace. When he woke from the long ice spell, it had been missing, along with his most prized grimoire, and several other items. While he slept, thieves apparently found and plundered his chambers. A hard loss indeed.

  “Go stand in the center.” He gestured to a circle of symbols marked on the floor.

  “Please. Don’t make me do—”

  “Silence.” Her voice vanished as he spoke the command. She shuddered, eyes wide and pleading.

  “This may hurt,” he warned. “But it won’t kill you.” His stomach twisted at her pitiful expression. She looked frightened out of her wits, and rightly so. In her eyes, he was a monster.

  “When it’s over, the pain will stop, and I’ll give you a sleep charm. You can rest through tomorrow.” This concession was the most he dared. If kindness entered into the equation, his overall resolve might crumble. A heart of granite. That’s what he needed.

  Once the she-dragon stood in place, Vadin took three long slow breaths. He raised his staff, this one carved from bone and set with a white stone. Words of transformation and binding poured from his mouth, while he walked the circle of symbols. They blazed to life, glowing like embers as he passed by.

  Unlike the other spells he’d cast on the she-dragon, this didn’t come from a book. He created it, in the moment, following the guidance of experience and instinct. That was how the ice-spell had come to life, all those centuries ago. Taking the same approach now seemed fitting.