Dragon Dreams (The First Dragon Rider Book 2)

by Ava Richardson

  Lady Bel was partly right, I thought in alarm. One of the many reasons why the northern kingdom was thought to be so uncouth was that the mountains were either infested with wild dragons or wild folk. You couldn’t travel far in numbers like this without drawing the attention of one or the other.

  But I couldn’t leave him. He was my father, after all. As cold as he was, as horrible as he was, as much as I hated him for the way that he treated me like a tool – he was still my father. I would be a better daughter, and a better woman than one who would just abandon her family when they were in need. It didn’t mean that I had to agree with them, just because I didn’t want to see them get ripped apart by dragons. “I have to,” I said, allowing the Lady Bel to seize the reins of my pony as I slid from the saddle, and landed with a neat tumble to the floor of the road, my bow at my side, and already running and pressing through the throng of fleeing people.

  “Char!” the lady shouted in outrage at my retreating back.

  I ducked past the last wave of people who were fleeing into the woods for safety, just in time to see the first wild dragon land on the far side of the road. It came in screaming, landing with a running thud as its claws tore out great hanks of roots and boulders from the grip of the earth. Whereas that fast landing might hurt a larger and heavier dragon, these wild ones just rolled, uncoiled, and coiled again like an angered snake, moving with incredible speed as it finally came to a stop.

  “Warriors, steady…” my father was shouting from ahead, clearly visible from where he stood behind a large defensive semicircle of warriors. I ran to his side, already releasing my bow from my shoulder as I did so.

  “Char? What in all hell’s name are you doing here?” My father barked in anger, sparing me a glance, but he was far too much the soldier to let family annoyance and anger upset his life and death plan. “Well, seeing as you are here – did that monastery teach you anything about how to deal with these wild dragons?” he snapped, looking straight on at the curious wild dragon, who was a few hundred meters away, and hissing at the air in our direction.

  “Not a lot,” I said truthfully, swallowing nervously.

  “Excellent,” my father cursed through gritted teeth, before raising his voice to shout to his men, “We use fire! Wurgan?” My father called to where my brother was marshalling his worried and almost-panicking horses.

  “Wurgan!–Marshal the front ranks to hold them off,” he called, and my brother obeyed immediately, sliding from his horse to start barking orders at the assembled warriors and forming them into defensive semicircles around the position of the prince.

  “Rear ranks gets pitch, lamp oil, rags, and tinder boxes. Anything you can to make torches and fire pots, understood?” my father directed.

  “Aye-aye, sire!” the various sergeants shouted, quickly organizing the men as yet another of the wild dragons screeched and screamed to a landing, this time farther down the roadway from us. We had dragons on two sides, the third could pick to land to our north or between us and the woods. Either way, we would be cut off.

  “Char must stay safe! Char must stay safe!” Paxala was almost shrieking in my mind. I felt her stretching her long legs, unfolding her giant leathery wings, readying to pounce…

  “No, Pax – don’t get involved!” I begged her, shouting out loud and causing my father to shoot me a strange look.

  “Pax? Isn’t that your dragon, is one of these wild dragons her?” Around us were the sounds of running feet as soldiers quickly started emptying packs, pouring out lamp oil onto rags, and tying them to sticks, spears, even the heads of their weapons.

  “No! Of course not, I was just…overexcited,” I tried to explain but my father was already distracted by the screeching cry of the third wild dragon, as it landed behind us, between where we were huddled on the roadway, and the courtiers had fled into the trees. We were cut off, and so were they.

  “No!” I shouted, as the wild dragon behind us hissed first at us, and then turned and tumbled towards the woods, clacking and grinding its rows of razor sharp teeth.

  “Skreeyar! SKREEEYAR” The heavens were split by the sound of trumpeting shrieks as yet another giant shadow eclipsed us all. My father looked up in dismay, but it wasn’t dismay that my heart felt. It was a wild and terrible hope. I didn’t want Pax to get hurt, I didn’t want to see Pax even in danger–but Pax was also my connection to the world of dragons. She might be able to convince these wild beasts to flee.

  Swooping over our heads came Paxala the mighty Crimson Red, bigger than the wild mountain dragons, but younger. Her wingspan cast a shadow that covered the road, and each of her talons were the length of a man’s sword. Her long neck speared the sun, and from her snout she snarled and gnashed teeth as large as the axes that were carried below her.

  CHAPTER 13

  MINE

  “Paxala!” I shouted once more in alarm, as the Crimson Red swooped low over our heads, causing my father’s warriors to duck and shout.

  “Char? Is this your doing?” my father was shouting, trying to rally his troops – but I had no time to spare for him, as I broke from my father’s side to run towards her.

  “Sssss!” There was a loud hissing and a thud, as the wild mountain dragon between us and the forest lashed and thrashed its tail, splitting apart the stone and packed earth of the road in its fury. I stumbled and froze, as all about me warriors fell backwards.

  “Mine!” said the Crimson Red’s voice in my mind as her shadow fell over me. There was a mighty thump and the ground shook as Paxala landed with her forelegs protectively over me, her wings beating so furiously as to make a hurricane. The Crimson Red was challenging the wild dragon for me, not letting the mountain reptile make any other movement towards me if it wanted to keep its claws.

  Where’s Neill? I thought looking up above me to Paxala’s neck, fully expecting to see my friend hanging on. He was nowhere to be seen – had Paxala flung him off her back in her own attempt to get here the quicker? Oh, by the gods. I swore, slowly setting an arrow to my bow and crouching in the shadow of the red dragon’s claws. In front of us the wild hissed and thrashed its tail, but it did not attack – it dared not, as Paxala, as young as she was, was still the larger of the two; and while Paxala stood here, the wild mountain dragon couldn’t afford to detract its attention to go after the other humans. I watched as the two started to sway and bob their heads on long necks like serpents, about to strike.

  “Paxala, no – please don’t fight – you’ll get hurt,” I pleaded.

  “Char fights. Paxala will fight,” her words came back to me, laced with anger and aggression. “Paxala needs to know how to fight, if she is to defeat Zaxx, yes?” she argued. The terrible thing was that she was right – but how could I convince her not to take on three faster dragons than her? Especially when she had never engaged in dragon combat before?

  “Sssss!” The hissing noise of another of the three wild dragons rattled through the air, as the slightly fatter wyrm that had landed on the road reared up suddenly, displaying its breast and neck sacks before thumping with stocky feet onto the road below. It was challenging Paxala, I knew, and I watched as it started to stalk on heavy, stiff and proud legs towards the dragon we had in front of us.

  “Sckrech!” Paxala croaked at it, raising a foot to pay deep furrows into the ground ahead of us. “Come, look at my claws, brother dragon. Are they not sharp?” I could hear her jeering and taunting the new arrival.

  “Pax…” I said warningly, even as my father’s horns could be heard coming towards us. He had managed to rally his soldiers, and was running up the road to join his daughter.

  The wild dragons roared and chittered; two in front of us, one on the other side of my father now. I watched the two flickering and lashing their tails. They moved constantly, not like Paxala who was much more catlike – elegant and smooth, choosing precisely when and where to move. No, these wild dragons were like agitated serpents in the way that they coiled through themselves and even each oth
er. They moved lightning-fast, teeth flashing, claws ripping the ground.

  “Pax – I have an idea.” I breathed quickly. “They are quicker on the ground, but you have the larger wingspan. If you can out-fly them…”

  “Flee? Run? Char wishes me to run?” Paxala said in anger. She was almost in full battle-mode now, I could tell. The muscles of her neck that helped pump whatever gasses or ichors produced her fire were full, and the larger, overlapping plates around the back of her neck were fraying, angry, and challenging.

  “Not run. Fly. We’re faster in the air,” I said to her, looking at the two dragons ahead of us, and the phalanx of northern soldiers rallying behind. I knew some of those soldiers. I didn’t want any of them to get hurt, and I knew also that they wouldn’t hold back from the bloodshed. What if their stray axe blows or spear throats found Paxala in the melee? No. I couldn’t allow her to get hurt.

  Thinking quickly, I dropped the arrow, turned and seized Paxala’s elbow spike, and pulled myself up to the crook of her shoulder, the wing joint, and settled myself in behind her neck.

  “Hsss! Paxala flinched a little in alarm at my sudden movements. She still had a way to go before she could accept humans to ride on her with ease.

  But now she will have to, I thought in grim satisfaction, using my knees to squeeze her strong slabs of muscle at the crook of neck and shoulder. “Fly now, Paxala, we’ll tire these little wyrms out, we’ll show them what a real dragon can do!” I congratulated her, knowing that flattery was always the best way to Paxala’s heart. She reared up, throwing back her head to roar triumphantly.

  “Woah,” I had to scramble to seize onto her neck spines and larger scale ‘ruff’ just to stay on. “But keep me onboard at the same time!” I yelled awkwardly, as Paxala leapt into the air above the wild dragon’s lashing forms and into the air. With a flick of her broad and strong tail she whip-slapped the larger one across the snout, causing it to hiss and jump after her, as did its fellow.

  Two down. “Yes!” I shouted, punching the air before my mind had a chance to catch up with what the rest of me could see, and my face fell. “Oh no.”

  I was on a dragon, and we were being chased by two very fast, very ferocious, wild mountain dragons known almost definitively for their ability to eviscerate and disembowel their prey.

  “Pax…?” I murmured, as the wind whipped my hair around my head and tore the words from my lips. “Fly!”

  The larger Crimson Red was slower to get up into the higher airs, I saw. Within moments the wild dragons had caught up with Paxala’s tail, and were snapping at it with their rows of circular, serrated teeth.

  Fly, Pax, fly… My breath caught in my throat; it was chill up here. The ground beneath us had become a green and brown blur, and the only sound that I could hear was the booming and crashing of the wind as it tore around us, and the sudden, bird-like shrieks and hisses of the dragons. My fear was a white-cold thing, as sharp as ice and as quick as lightning. It was beyond apprehension or terror, and somehow made my stomach turn and my jaw clench in a feeling that was close to exhilaration. How could I be excited about being so close to death?

  I heard the clash of iron-hard teeth biting nothing but themselves as the Crimson Red once again lashed her tail out at one of their maws. My heart was thudding, as fast as a rainstorm as Paxala rose higher and higher into the air… No time to feel the frost. No time to hesitate as I hunkered lower and closer to the dragon’s neck, willing her on with all of my might.

  Slowly, with mighty wing-beats we drew away from the smaller dragons. It was simple physics. Paxala had the larger wingspan, so she would be faster. She had to be faster. The dragon underneath me surged forward, her wings moving faster and faster as her muscles warmed up and she found new reserves of strength. The two wild dragons fell away and we powered upward, upward, and upward until we broke through a haze of cloud and suddenly it seemed as though we had reached the top of the world.

  “By the stars and stones….” I swore, blinking around us.

  Paxala flared her wings wide, as the rivers of air currents that we had been fighting through had suddenly stopped. We were gliding over a hazy sea of gold, and white. Clouds that, leagues below had been barely visible as just white mists were, from this great height, a delicate blanket of strange hills and valleys. The sun was bright and higher still in the sky ahead of us, so bright that every time I turned my head in its direction my eyes swam and bright neon aftereffects glared across my vision. I had never seen anything so beautiful as this, just as I had never traveled so high on Paxala before.

  Distantly to the West there were lines of shapes breaking the golden cloud-sea. Dark shapes with their own cloud-storms and waves piling up around them.

  “The northern mountains,” I breathed in awe. They were the gateway to the northern wastes’ endless high plains of ice. I turned, blinking, looking at just how far and how clear everything was. I had never dreamed that the world was so big.

  “This is all…beautiful,” I breathed.

  “Yes, it is.” Paxala agreed, and for one, eternal moment we were locked together in silent awe at this world above the world. This dragon’s playground. Our reverie was broken however, when darker shapes burst from the cloud layer below, I saw how their boiling shapes struggled with the thin air. The wild mountain dragons didn’t have the wingspan to drag themselves against this windless place. I watched as below them the hazy gold of the cloud shook and rippled as their movements tore at it.

  “Shall we?” I asked Paxala, my teeth chattering a little in the high and thin air and cold of the clouds.

  In response, the Crimson Red let out a triumphant roar, turning expertly on her gliding wingtip and plummeting straight down, towards the two wilder dragons as fast as one of the arrows from my bow. The wind tore at my face and hair as I gripped with my knees and hands and gritted my teeth. My eyes squinted to just the tightest of slits as the wind howled and roared in my ears, rising in pitch as the wild dragons beneath us grew closer and closer…

  Paxala folded her wings close to her body the way that a crow does, adding to the insane speed she was reaching as she reached out with her claws-

  “Ssckreayar!” she roared as she slashed past them, the speed of her movement knocking them from around her like children’s toys, her claws ripping through the heavy leather of wings. The two wild dragons snarled and snapped at her as she flashed past, but they didn’t have the time to attack as she was there and gone in a second, and they were tumbling out of the sky.

  “Wooohoooo!” I was shouting in enthusiasm, and below me the Crimson Red was also roaring her delight. For one, perfect moment we were no longer the princess and the outcast, or even the girl and dragon – we were one—a fierce hunting creature.

  But the feeling dissipated as I saw with horror the greens and browns of the earth rushing towards us faster and faster. The large acres of green became forests, became trees and creeks and small clearings and bothies, just as the browns and greys became roads, fields, roadways, and my father’s soldiers—

  “Pax!” I screamed, as she unfurled her wings and changed her flight, sending us in a sickeningly fast curve down the roadway, just tens of feet over the head of the remaining wild dragon and the semicircle of my father’s troops above it.

  Below me, my eyes caught a glimpse of bodies lying on the floor, of thick blood here and there from the battle. It was hard to defeat just one wild dragon in battle, but my father’s soldiers were well-trained, and had managed to drive it away from the road.

  At the sudden darting flight of Paxala, however, and the confused and pained hoots and whistles of its fellows, the wild dragon took fright, bellowing and snarling at the few spear men who chased it, turning and tumbling through its coils as it jumped away from us, away from the road, and away from the battle.

  “Yes, flee little dragon. These are my humans.” Paxala flared her wings to slow her down, turning in an arc around the battlefield, and seeming to get ready to chase the drago
ns again.

  “No, please, Paxala, don’t,” I begged her. We had won the day mostly out of surprise and luck, but I couldn’t say how we would fare on their home territory, and possibly with other wild dragons nearby. “I couldn’t,” I said, feeling a little queasy. “Please, set me down – I am not used to such flying as you are.” I made excuses, causing a pulse of amusement from the dragon beneath me.

  “Then we shall have to train you, little Char, how to accompany a dragon when she is a-hunting.” The idea seemed to amuse the dragon to no end, as I had been telling her that they needed to learn how to be ridden by humans for so long, when in reality it was all the other way around.

  “Yes,” I agreed, holding on to her scales as Paxala took another lazy circuit of her victorious battlefield, before making a big show of landing with large beats of her wings (which appeared entirely unnecessary to my eyes). Show off.

  “My daughter, what a beast she is, what a magnificent, brave, and fierce creature,” my father was congratulating us. Flattery, I thought. It comes so naturally to him. Not concern. Not asking how I was.

  I slid unsteadily from Paxala’s shoulders, to the crook of her front leg, and then climbed down to her ankle, and then staggered onto the ground.

  My father was clapping his hands as he walked up to greet me, but his eyes were on Paxala above, admiring her curves, her muscles, and her strength. “Did you know that she was here? Or maybe she followed you? Does she come when you call?” My father was saying in wonder, only half interested in the answers as he beamed, finally, at me in particular. “She will make such a wonderful addition to the northern armies. Just look how she dispensed with those wild dragons! Imagine what she could do if we mounted some steel halberds on those claws of hers. Or blades on her tail,” he marveled. Around us, soldiers warily picked themselves up and similarly looked in awe at the fighting dragon in front of them.