The Redwood Rebel (The Redwood War Book 1)

by Lorna George

  For a moment she wondered whether Cygnus had meant to truly keep his word, or if the guards had orders to execute her at the city gates. It seemed the most likely, but part of her was still curious. Again, she turned over his choice of only two guards, feeling somehow that it was wrong, and played the scene out in her head until it began to ache.

  Stepping carefully between the few damp, fallen leaves, she ignored the chill that seeped into her bones. Naomi had been cold all night, but although she could easily blame the cool spring weather, she knew it was more than that. The strange seizure that had brought her to her knees yesterday was also giving her pause. At the time she had suspected illness, or maybe poison. It wouldn’t surprise her that Cygnus would try to end her that way, and would explain the lack of guards. The more time passed, however, the more Naomi began to believe it was something far worse. She knew the feeling of magic, and now she was certain she was under some sort of spell. Cygnus had told her she would be watched, and now she felt deep concern that he had meant it in a very literal way.

  She had no magic of her own to check or try to repel it, and worrying didn’t help anyone. For now, all she could do was concentrate on getting her strength back and staying alive as she steadily made her way South, towards the port of Pearpetal.

  Releasing a slow breath, Naomi at last spotted the rabbits, and silently, she pulled her bowstring taut, taking aim. She was about to release, when an almighty shriek split through the quiet early morning of the forest, causing the rabbits to scatter. Naomi instantly looked up, her arrow taking new aim up towards the canopy of trees, and for a fraction of a second she was frozen in horror as a creature from a nightmare pelted down at her.

  Forcing herself back into movement, Naomi fired the arrow at the monster, but wings spread wide, it wheeled around and caught the projectile with ease. With a speed and movement remembered from times past, Naomi reached back into the quiver and pulled a second arrow. Rolling out of the way as the winged creature soared past her, talons outstretched, she nocked the arrow and again took aim. The beast shrieked and cackled, and Naomi watched it down the length of her arrow. Its body was that of a large bird, the colouring and build of a hawk, but its head was that of a beautiful woman. She had no hair, only more feathers that ran sleekly from her crown and down her back to meet with the rest. Naomi hadn't seen such a creature before, but she had heard of them and their vicious natures, their thirst for blood. She also knew that Lord Cygnus kept the majority of harpies nesting at his home fief of Appleby in the North, safe roosting in exchange for fealty.

  She expected it to make another dive for her, but a great, ground shaking roar caused both her and the harpy to turn their attention back up to the sky. A dragon? Surely not? How could Adrienne or Cygnus have ever won their stoic loyalty after Ffion was in such a state, and ruled by one who had behaved so dishonourably? The very thought of it made Naomi furious. There was no way it could be hunting her; it must be after the harpy.

  Turning her aim back to the wheeling creature, she fired and missed. The harpy screeched again and shot up above the canopy in answer to a second roar. Naomi cursed, then unable to see what was happening above the forest cover, made a quick decision. She ran for a nearby tree. Bow slung across her back, she made short work of the branches, but soon found herself out of breath. Her arms began to ache. She grit her teeth and ignored it, blowing her hair out of her face even as it stuck to her sweaty brow. She had been climbing trees her whole life; she wasn’t about to stop now. It felt even more important to prove to herself she was still capable than actually seeing what this dragon was up to.

  At last, muscles burning, she broke the forest canopy. She was blinded for a moment by the bright sunlight, and scrubbed at her eyes frustratedly. The noise of the dragon and the harpy battered her ears, and at last she could see. The scene unfolding before her in the vast, blue sky was heart-stopping, and Naomi found herself instinctively reaching for her bow once again.

  There was a dragon, but it was small. Well, it was much bigger than her, but small for a dragon, at least. Perhaps only a hatchling? The sun glanced off its scales, all different sizes and making a most unusual swirling pattern, revealing it to be black in colour, which was another oddity. Ffionite dragons had large, uniform scales, usually in the shape of various leafs, depending on their lineage, and their colours changed with the seasons of the trees they shared their appearance with. They were also large, heavily-horned beasts that walked on their back legs. This dragon, however, seemed to have front legs as well, reminding Naomi of some sort of winged, wild cat. It had an almost blue sheen to it, and its sleek form, odd scales, and lack of spines made her realise this creature wasn’t a local.

  She had seen the great, serpentine dragons of Tsumetai, and knew that they were different in each country. She had yet to see a dragon from Koren, and that this creature might be one filled her with awe. It was fast, making it difficult to really assess, and the scream of a harpy interrupted her deep wonder of the beast.

  There was more than one of the harpies now, and looking around swiftly, she counted four. One harpy was a difficulty for her, just as four was apparently proving too much for the small dragon. Even as it snapped its sharp jaws at one and evaded another, there was always the third and fourth swooping in to attack. It was struggling, and she could see even from here that it was wounded. Foreign dragon or not, she wasn’t about to sit here and watch it turned into harpy fodder.

  Nocking another arrow, she lowered herself to hide as much as she could from the sharp eyes that might find her. Naomi took careful aim and fired. She hit the largest harpy as it wheeled around to attack the waning dragon, and it screeched in pain as the projectile buried itself deep in its shoulder. Naomi didn’t wait for it to get its bearings, or for the other two to realise what was going on, before she fired again and hit another in the flank. Another angry shriek, and Naomi shot again.

  Flapping without any coordination, the harpies began to squawk oddly. Waiting until none were looking her way, and hoping the wind wouldn’t carry her scent towards them, she fired another arrow, narrowly missing the base of a skull. The dragon, now collecting himself, took advantage of the confusion and with a mighty bellow, grabbed the nearest winged beast with its sharp jaws and shook it violently. He dropped the dead mess of feathers and flesh and it plummeted lifelessly to the forest ground. The harpies scattered. Another cry, fear and pain heavy in the sound, they all but collided in their haste to escape. The dragon roared, victorious, in response.

  Naomi smiled slightly and moved to climb back down to the ground once more, when the sky exploded into flames. She gasped in shock at the intense heat as the dragon, head thrown back, blew a great column of fire into the light blue sky. For a moment she almost regretted her decision to help, as with one slight turn of its head, the forest would be on fire. A Ffionite dragon would only burn the forest under extreme circumstances, usually to flush away some blight or other. Their respect for their home and the creatures they cohabited with was too great. This dragon, however, was unpredictable, and there was little she could do. She had never seen a dragon behave this way before, and couldn’t be sure it would understand her if she tried to communicate. Such action could only make things worse.

  Abruptly, the fire ceased, thankfully without so much as brushing the forest. Naomi sighed with relief, then noticed the dragon looking directly at her. She wasn’t all that surprised that it had located her, but before she could incline her head in respect, as was the usual greeting for dragons, its left wing faltered, causing it to snort in pain and jerk downwards. She saw a dark gash at the base of his shoulder, but didn’t get the chance to think further. The dragon began to lose height far too quickly, trying to save itself with its good wing, and tilting it to crash down through the thick canopy of trees below.

  Naomi clasped the nearest branch to brace herself as the forest shook with the impact, then swung into action. Her waning strength almost forgotten, she climbed down the vast tree with
ease, and landed lightly on her feet. The rabbits were long gone, and she could hear her horse whinnying from her nearby encampment. She began to run towards where the dragon had fallen, rubbing at her arms to try and dispel the strange tingling sensation that spread across her skin.

  Truthfully, she should have been running the other direction. She should have gone back to her camp, collected her supplies and her horse, and gotten as far away as possible. If the dragon started a forest fire, she needed to get clear. Even if it didn’t, that little display was bound to draw attention, and that was something Naomi really didn’t want to get caught up by.

  Still, there was something pulling her. It was almost instinctual, and she didn’t really question it. She felt a responsibility towards him. She’d helped chase the harpies away, and making sure he was alright afterwards seemed like a logical step. The dragon was only small, but it had hit the ground hard, and even though she had only been able to briefly glimpse his injuries, the fact that they were serious enough to take him out of the air was cause for concern. Perhaps she could calm him enough that he wouldn’t torch the woodland.

  Soon she came to where the dragon lay, its breathing laboured and eyes closed. The uprooted trees around it still creaked, and the new clearing above them made Naomi more nervous than the scaled creature in its centre, as she prayed silently that the harpies wouldn’t return.

  She could see the trail of destruction from the dragon’s fall, the grass and soil torn up in its wake. Dark blood poured from the wound on its back, which she could now see was so deep that a little bone was exposed. She could feel the warmth of the fire breather as she drew closer, her skin continuing to tingle oddly, raw magic dancing across her own body as it seemed to reflect from the sunlight on the blue-black scales.

  Even as she crept closer cautiously, she looked with interest over his form. Her initial thought that he bore no spines was corrected as she noticed from his crown of black horns and narrow muzzle was a slim line of spines running all the way to the base of his neck, between his shoulder blades. They hadn’t been distinguishable from a distance, as instead of spiking out, as Ffionite dragons were prone to, they were tucked neatly into an almost plaited design. She could also tell that while he was a relatively young dragon, he was fully grown, and not a hatchling as she had first suspected. He was streamlined, but he was strong, and his body and wingspan were perfectly proportioned, despite the left one hanging uselessly at his side.

  As she examined him at a safe distance, knowing how temperamental any injured creature could be, one of his eyes opened to look at her. It was a bright yellow with gold flecks exploding from the dark iris like sparks, making her blink in amazement at the sight. His eye closed again, and she felt an odd spasm of heated magic press down on her.

  ‘Thank the gods…’

  It took a moment for Naomi to register that the dragon had spoken into her mind, surprised that he had been able to reach out despite her own lack of magic. Dragons, in her experience, could usually understand what was being spoken to them by any other creature, but for them to communicate back usually took magic from both parties. It had shaken her somehow, to hear like that. It had felt intrusive, but oddly comforting as well.

  Taking a breath to steady herself, she held up her hands in a gesture of harmlessness. ‘You’re seriously wounded. I can help, if you’ll allow me?’

  The dragon’s startling eyes opened once more, and he tilted his head to a different position where he rested so he could see her more clearly. Naomi was a master of keeping her expression neutral if she needed to, her voice too, but the churning emotions inside were a different matter. Dragons could sense your soul, and Naomi knew how broken she was, how dark a place her mind was. She tried to push her intentions forward, concentrate on her honest desire to be of help, but she still felt him somehow rummaging around in places she’d rather stayed private. For a while she grit her teeth and tried to bear with it, until the strain became too much.

  ‘You’re being incredibly rude,’ she informed him. ‘I understand you trying to ascertain my honesty, but there’s no need for you to look further than that.’

  Naomi was almost knocked back by the wave of surprise that came from the dragon, but felt him immediately pull back. He eyed her almost lazily for a moment, then the faint echo of deep, warm amusement nudged at her mind. It was over very quickly, but even the shadow of it was enough to prickle her annoyance.

  ‘No offence, but while you’re laughing your scales off, you’re actually bleeding to death.’ She crossed her arms even as his eyes bore into her. For a moment they were at a stand-off, eyes locked, each battling for dominance. Naomi’s eyes began to sting and she was sure she would have to blink, when the dragon shifted in pain and winced. The blood was pouring from his gaping wound now, pooling on the grass and being absorbed into the ground. She felt overwhelmed by concern and winced along with him.

  ‘Let me help you,’ she coaxed. ‘I don’t want to leave you like this.’

  The dragon sighed and there was a soft warmth to the magic that brushed past her as she felt his acceptance. Naomi realised how tense she had become while waiting for his answer. It was an odd sensation, but she didn’t have time to question her peculiar empathy for him.

  ‘My camp is nearby,’ she told him, taking a step back. ‘I have supplies, and I’ll need a few herbs I can-’

  ‘No!’ he roared, knocking the breath out of her with his vehemence.

  Hands over her ears, despite it making absolutely no difference to the ringing his bellow had left in its wake, she snapped back before she could stop herself. ‘When you’ve quite finished!’

  The dragon made no reaction to her annoyance, eyes boring angrily into her. She had no idea what she had supposedly done to warrant such a violent reaction and was quickly losing patience.

  ‘You will not leave,’ he hissed. ‘You will stay.’

  ‘Look, either you want my help or you don’t. I haven’t got any way to help you like this, and I can’t tarry here,’ she paused, fleetingly concerned by how much she should say. ‘I’m being hunted myself.’

  He sighed quietly. ‘I know.’

  He seemed to suddenly relax, but her initial relief at his apparent understanding dissolved when she realised he was looking at something behind her. In one smooth motion she had taken the hunting dagger from its sheath at her hip, turned, and fallen into a defensive position. In the few seconds it took, she saw three Korenian soldiers standing with bows aimed directly at her. Before she could even consider her chances, from the corner of her eye she saw more movement and realised they were surrounded. Glancing at the dragon, she felt his smugness wash unpleasantly through her mind. Apparently only she was surrounded.

  ‘Surrender your weapons.’

  He was so sure she would do it, this dragon from Koren who she had only wanted to help. Naomi gripped the blade tightly and scowled. She should have known better. Koren was allied with Adrienne now, and their soldiers were some of the best in all of Ilios. They were clever, using the harpies to draw her out like that.

  ‘Submit!’

  She couldn’t take out all of these archers. She was tired, at the very edges of her strength, and despite her bow being across her back, it might as well have been leagues beneath the Southern Ocean for all the good it was now. The thought of her dark cell twisted her gut. Raising her chin in defiance, she lifted the blade to her own throat. They would not take her alive this time.

  ‘No!’

  A surge of terror that was not her own tore through her body, and the ground seemed to move beneath her boots. There was an eruption of heated magic from the dragon and the knife was torn from her hands by an unseen force. Naomi and all of the archers were knocked to the ground, and she was sure she was dead, certain he had just incinerated her and the forest with his fire breath. She tried to shield her face from the burning temperature, but she couldn’t move.

  Then it stopped. The heat was gone, the magic withered away, and not a
sound could be heard. She wasn’t entirely certain the dragon hadn’t somehow blown her ears out with his careless power, until a few leaves rustled in the faint breeze of the early morning. She blinked, then looked hesitantly to the dragon.

  Except the dragon wasn’t there. Instead, there was a man. A Korenian man. Despite his injuries, he was struggling up to his feet, and she tried again to move. Magic she recognised held her down, and she smothered a bellow of outrage that fought to free itself from her mouth. He looked at her then, his face twisted in apparent fury and those same yellow eyes flashing dangerously.

  One of the soldiers rushed forward to offer support as he stumbled slightly, but he was waved aside even as the scent of heated magic filled the air like crushed mint and citrus. As his hand passed over his upper body, she saw how he straightened and knew he had healed his wounds. From her sprawled position on the grass, she couldn’t see all of the other soldiers, but the few within her sight were now standing to attention. A sickening suspicion turned her stomach over.

  ‘My King,’ the first guard muttered, bowing and taking a step backwards.

  The old title “Dragon King” suddenly took on a whole new meaning as her hunch was confirmed. She looked back at the man who had been so gentle in the darkness and found it far easier to recognise the dragon instead. His long, curling hair was tied into a slim, neat braid down his back, reminiscent of the interesting spines that had adorned his neck, so black that it shone blue in the early morning light as his scales had done. For a second she remembered how it had felt under her fingers, then angrily shoved the memory away.

  ‘How dare you try to harm yourself in such a way,’ he growled as he stood over her. ‘After all that has passed, all you have put me through, you owe me better than that.’