dragons breath 01 - stalked by flames

by Susan Illene

  It sat at the foot of the mountains on a hill of green grass with dragons flying patrols above. Dark gray walls rose thirty feet high and surrounded the fortress. Along the ramparts, there were a series of jagged spikes designed to tear into a dragon if he flew too close. Four guard towers—one at each corner—provided a full view of the surrounding area and any incoming enemies. They could launch assault weapons capable of tearing dragon wings at a moment’s notice.

  The castle, also dark gray, was set in the center. It rose higher than everything else around it with spirals and spikes protruding from every rooftop. All the windows were tall and narrow, but there were walkways at the top of the third level where the pendragon and his family could come out to enjoy the view—in human form.

  The entire clan lived inside those walls. There were over two hundred smaller buildings, including barracks, shops, and homes. They all had pointed rooftops and spikes jutting from them similar to the castle.

  His ancestral home was designed so that no one could enter it safely by air. They had to land outside the walls and walk on foot through two sets of sturdy gates made of a fire-proof metal they called zaphiriam. It was impregnable to pure dragons. They’d attacked the fortress enough times to test its strength.

  Aidan caught sight of his sister, Phoebe, in a clearing outside the fortress. She held a zaphiriam sword in front of her, slicing it through the air and giving instructions to the next generation of female warriors. From the looks of it, this was a second-year class.

  Male and female shape-shifters who wished to undergo training volunteered once they reached twenty years of age. They had to pass a brutal trial that tested their physical strength, stamina, and prowess. Only about half made it. The process had served their clan well for thousands of years by helping them select the best candidates to become warriors. He’d made average marks on his—little more than enough to pass. Except for Donar and his sister, no one knew Aidan could have scored higher if he’d wished.

  Phoebe wore her long black hair in a tight braid. Only one strand of silver was left loose to fall on her cheek. All the female members of his family had a few silver streaks in their hair. They passed the trait down generation to generation. She’d also inherited their height and large bone structure. Aidan was only a few fingers taller and perhaps a stone or two heavier than her. Though to be fair, he was the smallest of his brothers.

  She was the first female in their family to become a warrior. He’d heard stories of when she was a mere five years old they’d had to hide all the weaponry. Too many times they’d found her in her room practicing with zaphiriam knives and swords she’d pilfered—often the ceremonial ones hanging on the walls. Her wooden toy dragons were forever littered with stab wounds. He had to wonder if they might have represented her two older brothers.

  Aidan was born sixty years after her and didn’t witness those days for himself. All he’d known was the fierce warrior she’d become. Seeing her now in her fitted black camrium attire, she appeared as if she could fight off a handful of opponents at the same time. Her top was in a halter style that showed the well-developed muscles in her shoulders and arms and her pants fit like a second skin on her legs.

  Donar landed next to Aidan in the clearing. Flames covered them as they changed to their human forms. In the beginning, shifting could be quite painful, but after a few decades one barely noticed the discomfort.

  “I’m off to see my father,” Donar said, glancing toward the fortress gate.

  “Are you going to help him?” Aidan asked. “From what I hear, the masons have more than their fair share of work.”

  Donar grimaced. “I promised I’d assist him for a few hours.”

  “Good. The sooner the repairs are done the sooner we can breathe a little easier.”

  “Save the speech. I’ve heard it enough times before.” His cousin shook his head and walked off.

  Donar’s father came from a line of dragons who could generate two types of flames. One that could destroy anything it touched and another that could fire-proof stone, metal, and a few other materials such as the cloth they wore. The rare ability was highly valued within his clan. Only about a dozen had mastered the skill and most specialized on one type of medium. For Donar’s father, it was stone.

  Aidan turned to observe his sister and her five female students. In their first year, they would have learned hand-to-hand combat, but in their second they began working with swords. Though they’d all be twenty-one or twenty-two, they appeared younger. Shape-shifters aged slower than humans. Their dragon form developed at an even more gradual rate.

  One of the girls appeared to be having greater trouble than the others handling her blade. He rarely assisted in training warrior candidates, but he could use the practice if he wanted to help Bailey—assuming she accepted his proposition.

  “Put your hips into it. Your body is too stiff,” he said, walking up to the girl.

  “Okay,” she said, drawing her brows in concentration and trying once more. “Like this?”

  Her eyes were dark gold as she looked up at him and her brown hair had the faintest hint of red as it glinted in the sun. She was from one of the low families, but if she worked hard, she could earn prestige as a warrior.

  “Not quite.” He gave her a stern look. “You must twist your hips more.”

  She made another attempt, improving a bit.

  “Good. Now do it a hundred more times,” Aidan ordered.

  He left to join Phoebe. She stood with her arms crossed as she watched her students from a distance. It was a method of giving them space to become familiar with their weapons. When he reached her, they clasped arms in their human form of greeting.

  Aidan indicated the girl he’d just left. “That one will need a lot more practice if she hopes to pass her sword skills test.”

  “I know,” Phoebe said, sighing. “To make matters worse, most of her family hasn’t crossed over yet and it’s affecting her training.”

  He arched a brow. “I thought the last of our clan arrived two days ago.”

  “Not quite. We’re still missing about ten, including her parents and sister. Right now all she has is a younger brother. He’s a five-year-old handful and takes all her attention when she’s not here practicing.”

  Dragons could be hard-hearted about many things, but families tended to form tight bonds—except his own, of course. He hoped the girl reunited with hers soon.

  “Who is caring for the boy now?” Aidan asked.

  “Two human women are keeping watch over clan children while their families work.”

  Ah, yes, it explained why he’d seen so many young ones running about the great hall. That’s where the humans spent most of their day doing tasks the dragons would rather avoid—such as cleaning and preparing meals.

  It had only been a little over twenty years ago that they’d started appearing one or two at a time in Kederrawien—the dragon world. Somehow, they’d crossed over from Earth and couldn’t get back. It had only worked going one way until recently.

  Any humans the pure dragons found first, they killed. It was only the shape-shifter dragons who provided refuge for them. Over the past two decades, his clan alone had acquired over a hundred. Between the twelve total shifter clans around the world, they may have saved thousands of humans.

  His people didn’t keep them as slaves, but they did require them to work if they wished to stay in the fortress. Most chose never to leave again once they were settled. Even since returning to Earth, the humans who’d gotten used to living among the shifters chose to remain. The pure dragon threat still existed and only the ones who missed their families enough to take the risk left.

  Phoebe pulled Aidan to the side, farther from the trainees. “So where have you been today?”

  “Out patrolling.”

  She gave him a skeptical look. “Since when are you voluntarily going out on patrols?”

  Aidan had cultivated a reputation for being lazy and apathetic. Sometimes, he wond
ered if he might have done too good a job of it.

  He shrugged. “There’s a whole new world out there and even more humans than we saw through the veil. You should see them run whenever one of us comes near them. They scream and flail their arms about like small children.”

  If he discounted the ones with guns, of course—they could be quite annoying. Bullets striking his scales were a lot like mosquitoes biting into his skin. It didn’t hurt much—unless they hit the small bones in his wings—but it was uncomfortable enough he preferred to avoid it.

  “You should stay close to home where it’s safe,” she cautioned.

  He kept his amused smile in place. “I always take Donar with me. Not to worry.”

  “That’s a small comfort.” She snorted out a puff of steam.

  Donar was actually a very strong fighter, but like Aidan he didn’t show off his skills.

  “Will you mourn my loss if something happens to me?” Aidan asked.

  There was a brief softening of her eyes. “If only because you’d leave me behind with Zoran and Ruari.”

  “Speaking of Zoran, our eldest brother is coming now.”

  Phoebe stiffened.

  “Did he hear me?” she whispered.

  “No, he’s just leaving the gates,” Aidan reassured her. “But he looks like someone has been pulling on his tail.”

  She took a deep breath and turned to face Zoran as he came their way. Even in human form, their brother was massive with muscles bulging from every part of him. It was almost unnatural. Aidan was convinced he could feel the ground shake when Zoran walked. He had straight black hair kept at shoulder length and yellow eyes that never showed anything except hatred, distrust, or anger. It was as if he’d been born with nothing but the darkest emotions.

  “I need to speak with Phoebe alone,” he growled when he got close.

  Aidan clasped both Zoran’s upper arms and smiled broadly. It was the highest form of affection he could give his brother in human form. He only used it now because it was clear the four hundred and fifty-year-old shape-shifter was in a bad mood. Aidan would do what he could to soften his attitude for Phoebe. Even if it irritated his inner dragon to do it.

  “It’s so very good to see you, Zoran,” he lied. “I trust you’re doing well?”

  “Well enough,” his brother answered, pulling away.

  Aidan was always thankful Zoran wasn’t the brightest of his siblings.

  “The repairs on the fortress are going smoothly?”

  Throm—the pendragon—had let his oldest son take charge of restoring the walls. Aidan might not have much respect for his brother, but Zoran seemed to be doing well at this task. He’d organized crews for quarrying rock from the mountains, masons to shape and fire-proof the stones, and others to put the completed blocks in place. Not one minute had been wasted since the project started. Zoran must have found a good foreman to keep things running smoothly.

  “The walls should be finished by tomorrow if the masons work through the night,” his brother answered in a gruff voice, then gave him a distrustful look. “What do you care?”

  Aidan lifted a shoulder. “I’m merely concerned for the safety of our clan.”

  Zoran’s eyes turned to a dark gold. “You’d better go, whelp, before I lose my patience with you.”

  Aidan must have overdone his praise. That was the problem with his brother. Regardless of how you behaved toward him you could set him off. Aidan had to ignore the growling inside his head that demanded he strike Zoran down.

  “I’ll see you later.” He gave Phoebe’s arm a squeeze.

  She gave him a warning look. “Stay out of trouble.”

  “I always do,” he said over his shoulder as he walked away.

  “What a worthless whelp,” Zoran said before Aidan got far. “When I become leader of this clan I’m going to have him hauling stones for the masons day and night. That’ll teach him some respect.”

  Aidan’s steps faltered for a moment. It took everything in him not to turn and challenge his brother, give in to his dragon and prove he wasn’t weak. It would be satisfying, but it would ruin his long-term plans and make him a target. He needed to avoid bringing attention to himself right now.

  He took several deep breaths and kept going. Zoran wasn’t worth it. Aidan would head into the fortress and find something to distract him from beating his brother into a bloody mess.

  Chapter 13

  Aidan

  Aidan entered the keep and followed the cobbled road that made up the main thoroughfare. It was crowded with humans and dragon folk—all of them searching for ingredients for the midnight meal that was a handful of hours away. One could find a variety of foods, including fish, chickens, fruits, and vegetables—more types than they’d ever had back in Kederrawien. Shopkeepers had scoured the nearby countryside to gather it all or paid others to find the food for them. He couldn’t remember his clan ever looking happier or healthier.

  He stepped around a few human children attempting to kill petroes with large sticks. They were fire-breathing insects that crossed over from Kederrawien with them and looked like miniature dragons. It was the juices extracted from the petroes’ dead bodies that could heal burns.

  He wondered what Bailey would think if she knew that was what he’d rubbed on her friend’s throat. Probably better she didn’t find out, considering her low opinion of him already. Then again, she wasn’t immune to his charm if her reaction to his studying her body was any indication. She might distrust him, but she was curious about him. Perhaps there was hope for them to come to some sort of understanding with each other.

  Aidan worked his way toward the far corner of the keep where the mason and blacksmith shops were located. There were six tall stone buildings in a row near the fortress walls. Each stood two floors high and had an overhang at the front, providing shade against the hot sun. They served as living quarters and workshops.

  He found Donar and his father, Olin, at the first building. Both were in their human forms, blowing blue and purple flames at gray stones. Slowly, they turned them into the darker gray that indicated they were now fire-proof. The process also made them stronger and more resilient against blunt force.

  Donar finished his and straightened, eyes lit up with hope. “Did you need me to go somewhere with you?”

  “No.” Aidan leaned against a post. “I’m just here to enjoy the sight of you working.”

  Donar snorted. “As if you know what that means.”

  As the pendragon’s son, Aidan wasn’t required to do anything except maintain proficient fighting skills and serve his father. He could take on another job if he chose, but no one expected it. His brothers certainly hadn’t. The taxes his family collected on the clan ensured they didn’t want for anything.

  Over the years, Aidan had visited most of the shops and learned the basics of nearly every trade they had in the fortress. It had given him a better understanding of the clan’s inner workings, but his older brothers had laughed whenever they caught him out. He hardly cared since knowing how to do things for himself made him less reliant on others.

  “Would it make you feel better if I helped?” Aidan lifted a brow.

  His cousin’s face reflected surprise. “You would do that?”

  It had been a long time since he’d last offered. “For today.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you would,” Olin joined their conversation. “We’ll be up all night otherwise. There’s a space inside for you to work if you don’t mind the heat.”

  No one in Aidan’s immediate family knew he’d inherited the gift for blowing both types of flames. There were stories about his mother’s father being able to do it—which was the side Donar came from—but neither she nor her two eldest sons had gained the ability. Aidan hadn’t even known he had it until around the time he turned sixty.

  One day he’d been watching Donar practice and for some inexplicable reason decided to give it a try. At first, his flames had come out red and orange, destroying
half the stone. Then they’d turned to purple and blue, hardening the remaining half. Olin had seen it as well and encouraged him. Over the next decades, he spent at least a few hours a week perfecting the skill until he could do it almost as well as his cousin.

  Next, he’d found a blacksmith willing to keep his secret and teach him. That had been even more useful since it meant he could forge his own weapons. He was still working on perfecting the art with camrium cloth. It required thinner, lighter flames since it was more delicate. So far he’d only made one set of clothes successfully.

  “Come on,” Donar said. “I’ll get you set up inside.”

  They passed through the open doorway. It was dim in the workroom and much warmer, but a light breeze coming through the windows helped keep it from being too stifling. They passed a set of stairs leading to the living quarters and went to the back where there was a smooth stone worktable. Donar picked up a large chunk of rock from a broken boulder and set it on top.

  Aidan looked it over. “What size do you need it?”

  His cousin pointed at a row of lines cut into the table. “Each side equal, going from here to here.”

  Aidan studied the lines Donar indicated. The stone would need to be about the length of his forearm. It wasn’t for one of the outer walls, then, but likely for a workshop or home.

  “Very well.”

  “Enjoy yourself.” Donar clasped his arm and left.

  Aidan would have loved to work outside, but he couldn’t risk being seen by anyone close to his family. If his brothers found out he inherited the skill, it would cause a greater rift between them. As it stood now, they didn’t see him as competition.

  Once the pendragon died, there would be a contest held to decide who replaced him. Three noble families were eligible to participate with a total of twenty candidates who were of the right age—between two hundred and six hundred years old. From among them, the elders would choose five to compete, usually the oldest sons.