Sky Warriors: Poleuthan's Thief (Sky Warriors Saga Book 1)

by Pendragon, Nicole

  Ange frowned feeling troubled, she did feel a draw that had her walking towards the mountains that night and she even felt a pull now that made her feel comfortable in Showl’s company. She felt a strange sense of instinct that she could…trust him.

  “I hardly know anything about…all this magic going on,” she protested, waving her hand in a circle in the air out of exasperation, causing it to twinge in pain. “How do I know I’m not dreaming? I don’t even know what it means to be a Dragonbound, I’m a thief of the Black Owls…or at least I once was…” she trailed off sorrowfully.

  Showl blinked, compassion and pain in his gaze. “So that mine site…is that where you were injured?” he asked, anger suddenly lancing through his voice. “Was it those men in uniform that did this to you? That almost got you killed?” he snarled.

  Ange flinched at his sudden violent tone, fear suddenly rushed through her as she noticed his fangs but this time most of his teeth were sharp and serrated, and his nails had grown into long black talons that held her hand.

  Showl glanced up at her as she tried to pull away, a regretfully expression took his face as he let out a deep breath and to Ange’s amazement his teeth dulled and his talons slowly retracted and became normal fingernails. She still couldn’t suppress the shudder of fear as she snapped her hand out of his grasp.

  “I’m…sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he gave her a sad smile. “You know I will never hurt you, right? A dragon could never bear the thought of hurting their Soulbound.”

  Ange’s nodded, unconvinced as she pulled her knees close and stared at her infected hand trying to think of anything other than the transformation she had just witnessed. She was truly starting to believe he was mad, with his constant mood swings and all.

  Showl let out an audible sigh and extended his hand out carefully to her, she grimaced and reluctantly surrendered her hand to him, only because it was starting to hurt. He set himself to work, slowly breathing an icy cap over her wounds, this time it burned as the infection was killed but she remained still and didn’t allow herself to utter even a hiss. He then took her right wrist and glared angrily at the bruised flesh for a moment as his fingers stroked the injury before healing it as well. Ange froze in surprise as his face was suddenly very close and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her but instead he gazed at her warily as his lips parted and an icy mist began to crawl on the right side of her face. She forgot that she had been burned there too. She sighed with a trill as the pain left and he pulled back. For unknown reasons she felt her hammering heart plummet with disappointment.

  Before she could contemplate on the emotions, Showl pulled away from her and stood as he pulled his shirt over his head again before reaching for his chest plate and snapping it on. Ange noticed at the front of the armor, at the neckline came out a head that she had missed before, it looked like a mighty beast, but its face had very distinct birdlike features to it, like the cutting of small feathers and a beak like edge to its jaws while curling horns curved up to the shoulders. Though the shaped of a dragon was unmistakable.

  “Does your stomach hurt?” Showl asked concerned as he picked up his gauntlets and slipped one on.

  Ange grimaced as she pulled up the edge of her shirt and noticed the light bruising over her torso, it was sore but no unbearable. “It’s sore, and I am not sure how much it will hurt once I start moving,” she admitted.

  “Would you like me to heal it?” Showl offered with a wary tone. “I did not assume because I imagine taking off your shirt would not exactly be a comfortable situation for you.”

  Ange’s face reddened at the mere thought. Talk about blunt.

  “No, I think a can manage a bruise for a few days, thanks for the offer though,” she yanked the shirt down as if in a final statement. He did not looked pleased with her response but he did not protest.

  Instead he knelt before the fire and picked up a stone carved bowl and served what smelled like delicious soup into the container before offering it to her.

  Ange felt her stomach growl fiercely as she took the bowl happily form his hands, a wide smile passing over her face as her mouth watered at the sight. Golden broth, chunks of heart meat, herbs swimming amongst the liquid and a few basic vegetables floating among the contents. Then the scent hit her, it smelled absolutely divine to her starved stomach.

  She marveled at the stone bowl momentarily, it looked like it been carved by hand and it was absolutely smooth with carvings on the side. As she stared at it, she recognized the mountains encircling the bowl, the twin suns above them and a small city in the distance.

  She blinked as he handed her a spoon. She nodded gratefully and was thankful no spinach seemed to be in the stew, she wasn’t a fan of many greens. She took a big and eager mouthful, ignoring the hot broth that scald her tongue, it was warm and fell perfectly into her empty stomach.

  Ange scooped up a chunk of meat next and chewed it, marveling at the texture and softness.

  “What kind of meat is this?” she asked curiously. “It’s really good.”

  Showl smiled. “Thank you, I’m glad you’re enjoying it. There are two kinds of meat in this stew, the meat of a raptor-walrus or what some people like to call feathered-walrus and shell-penguin meat.”

  Ange froze stricken as she recalled the cute little black and white birds with gray-green leather turtle-like shells on their backs and under their bellies that Daren had shown her once in a book. She found her appetite suddenly lost.

  “Is something the matter?” he asked concerned as she set the bowl down before her.

  She frowned, her voice coming out like a sob of disbelief. “You really cooked those cute little birds into the stew?”

  Showl blinked puzzled. “Cute?” he echoed, he chuckled a moment later. “Have you ever seen an actual shell-penguin? Cute is most certainly not the first word that comes into mind.”

  Ange scowled annoyed. “I have seen one…in a book,” she added a little sullenly at the end. “And they were definitely cute.”

  He smiled and nodded complacently. “I’ll show you some real shell-penguins one of these days,” he promised. “And then you can decide whether they’re cute or not. For now, pretend I didn’t mention them and eat, you need your strength.”

  Ange frowned and looked down at the stew, still feeling hungry, she nodded and tried to ignore her appall at eating a cute bird and instead focused on her surroundings rather than what she was chewing.

  She looked about the cave and noticed several sol-lanterns that glowed over the carved cave walls.

  She blinked as she noticed shelves cut out of the dark stone with rows of books on them. The cave looked more like a library than a home, even a stone table was cut out of the same rock, and looked like it was moveable like the two chairs tucked underneath its round surface.

  There was no bed.

  Ange ate as she contemplated the cozy library-like home. She focused her attention to the cave entrance and noticed how large it was and wondered how they weren’t freezing even with a fire. As she narrowed her eyes and looked harder she realized it was lightly snowing, but it seemed distant from the cave.

  Is Showl keeping the snow away? She wondered.

  She ignored the thought as Showl handed her another bowl, she took it silently, thinking about the Black Owls.

  Her chewing slowed as she thought about her lost comrades and wondered if anyone got away alive. Her hands tightened around her bowl and spoon. She stared into the liquid thinking about Vera and Garrett, then Daren. She snarled as anger flared to life, she was going to gut him the next time she crossed his path. She had to go back to Cyridell and see if the guard’s words held truth, if their base was destroyed, and if all her family had really been killed.

  She scarfed down the rest of the stew, feeling a lot better as she put down the bowl and then yanking her black leather shirt over her chest, she noticed her gloves next to Showl’s cape, clean. She yanked them on realizing she had a lot to thank the drag
on for, if he was what he actually claimed to be.

  “What are you doing?” Showl asked bewildered.

  Ange stood up, feeling her legs shake a bit and her stomach felt sore.

  She looked at Showl, feeling determined and remembering her few and meager manners with disdain. “Thank you for taking care of me, but I’ll be returning to Cyridell now,” she informed as she turned to grab her cloak.

  Her hand was caught as she grasped the black fabric, his hold was unyielding around her hand and she blinked shocked that she hadn’t heard him even move.

  “You’re going back there?” he demanded angrily. “Not over my dead carcass you’re not!” he snarled.

  “What?!” Ange snarled yanking her arm away as she swept her cloak over her shoulders. “You have no right to tell me what to do!”

  “You’re still weak!” Showl pointed out exasperated pinching the bridge of his nose as he stood before her, closing his eyes as if he was trying to calm himself. “I’m your dragon, Angeline, and whether you like it or not, I am going to protect you,” he said with finality. “Whether you want to bond with me or not doesn’t make a difference, now that I’ve found you, I am not leaving your side.”

  Ange froze, taken aback by his sudden words as he glared down at her stubbornly, his arms crossed as he stood in her way, his entire form intimidating as he towered over her.

  Ange spat irritated as she looked away and headed for the wall her dagger was imbedded into. She grabbed the hilt and made a heavy attempt to yank out the blade. It was stuck and pretty deep.

  “I don’t know what you are!” Ange growled angrily as she heaved at the blade, it didn’t even budge. “You could be insane for all I know, mad!” she yanked forcefully, to her dismay the blade snapped under her fingers. She growled infuriated and tossed away the broken dagger, she would have to steal a new pair.

  She turned back to Showl, beyond frustrated. His beautiful face showed he was just as irritated. He sighed, his hand stretching out to her, an invitation.

  “Come with me,” he ordered softly.

  She glared at his hand then his face, untrusting. “Why?”

  His face was impassive, cold. “You have doubts, I will get rid of them for you.”

  Chapter 7: A Blade Encased in Ice

  Ange blinked, wondering what he could possible mean, and how he would make her believe him.

  She stared at his hand, her body becoming rigid as she dared not move closer to him. She felt indecisive, another emotion she was also not accustomed to.

  Showl sighed, before she could move, his arm swept underneath her, knocking her over easily as he lifted her into his arms and walked for the cave’s entrance in a few long strides.

  “Do not struggle,” he commanded sternly as he stopped at the mouth of the cavern.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Ange spat as she tried to pull herself out of his arms.

  He glared down at her as his arms tightened on her. “Unless you wish to fall a thousand feet to your death, you will remain obediently in my arms,” he warned.

  Ange let out an exasperated laugh, her smile taunting. “I thought you said you would never let me get in harm’s way.”

  He smiled wickedly. “You were listening,” he replied approvingly as his face inched closer. “And you are correct, I would catch you without fail, but I’m starting to think the fright might actually be a healthy experience for you.”

  Ange’s face countered with anger and disbelief. “You wouldn’t dare,” she hissed.

  His smile became unpleasant. “Would I?” he asked rhetorically as his hold loosened deliberately around her, he winked devilishly.

  Ange gasped as she grasped his arm and latched on. “Alright already! I’ll behave!” she felt a tremble run down her body and she couldn’t tell whether Showl was being serious with his threat or simply tricking her, she rather not find out he actually meant his words. She gaped as she gazed down from the ledge where they stood, she couldn’t see the ground below with the whirling snow obscuring the world in gray.

  “There’s a good girl,” Showl commended approvingly, his grasp on her small form tightening securely around her shoulders and legs again.

  Ange fumed as she glared back at him, her anger rendering her silent.

  He smiled happily like an exited child, unaffected by her fury.

  Ange’s anger melted away into astonishment as a ripping cut through the air. She gazed over Showl’s shoulder in utter shock as a pair of white wings shot out from his back. Thick white feathers stretched out from the downy limbs, she could even see the underlay of sinew throughout his long and powerful wings.

  Ange’s thoughts returned to the story of Angeline, the dragon that men called an angel. She realized Showl’s wings were almost pure white, tiny black flecks dotted the lower half of his primary and secondary flight feathers.

  Before she could observe more, she found her sense of gravity gone. She locked a scream in her chest as she suddenly realized they were in the air and she clutched tightly against his armor. Powerful wing beats rushed the air past them which she noticed were surprisingly silent.

  She found her fear and curiosity warring with one another as she looked around, the air was clear where Showl flew through, though to Ange’s surprise she noticed a stream of flurries following closely behind, as she looked harder it appeared almost as if down was falling from Showl’s wings. She never thought that snow could look so beautiful.

  She blinked and glanced up at Showl who was smiling thrilled and to her shock, his yellow golden eyes were fixed on her, intense and eager.

  She swallowed and looked away and realized how quickly they were climbing through the air as the face of the mountain quickly moved by, too fast for her to capture the shape of even a rock.

  Ange gasped the air rushing to her face ceased and she gazed bewildered at a flat plateau as Showl’s wings opened wide as they slowly drifted to the ground.

  The unexpected tableland was round and many feet wide in diameter, perhaps two hundred feet or more. It looked like it had been naturally cut out of the mountain, which encircled most of the open ground and still climbed higher into the sky.

  Curiosity and confusion mingled with her as Showl landed gently on the ground without a sound and lowered her to her feet. She stood still, gazing about and wondered why the mountain around the flat land was covered in snow, yet the circular stone platform was untouched.

  Her eyes traveled to the center of the flat stone floor, there stood a large crystal, smooth yet cut with facets and spikes of clear ice jutting out from its base. She realized that the gleaming stone was actually no natural crystal, it was all ice and in its center gleamed something long and slender. An eerie mist swirled around the object.

  A familiar and powerful pull began to yank at her, urging her forward. She didn’t fight the strange instinct as she stepped closer, Showl slowly trailing behind her as she headed for the mound of ice, curious and full of wonder.

  As she neared, the object within the ice seemed to sheen with eager brilliance, calling her. She paused, feeling the cool misty air that encircled the ice formation kiss her face with coolness. Ange was surprised she didn’t feel cold in the least, especially now that she knew she was so high up in the mountains. In fact, she felt neither cold nor warm, the perfect temperature. Absolutely comfortable.

  She blinked for a moment before focusing her gaze on the ice and the mysterious object deep within its frosty folds.

  She gaped in surprise as she recognized a long sword within the ice. Even through the ice structure she could identify graceful designs along the sword’s hilt that were similar to the designs on Showl’s armor, at the end of the hilt was a clear stone held by black talons, she almost couldn’t discern the crystal from the ice encasing the sword. Upon the blade where glyphs she was not familiar with, and at the end of the characters was a symbol etched into the blade that she would recognize anywhere, her mark.

  “It is yours.”


  Ange jerked up and away from the ice, startled by the sound of his voice. She turned her perplexed gaze to Showl as he walked past her and across to the other side of the large ice formation, his fingers trailing over the ice, Ange realized he had taken his gauntlets off again.

  “Mine?” she echoed.

  He nodded, his face somber and his eyes thoughtful as he stopped in front of the ice encased blade and took a step back. Ange had to look around the mysterious object to see his face.

  “If you take it, the bond will be completed,” he stated quietly.

  Ange blinked and gazed at the sword deep within the ice.

  “Why a sword?” she asked confounded. She had never handled one, and wondered its significance. It looked primitive compared to the weapons soldiers carried, yet her daggers had also been primitive, simple.

  “The Key is no mere weapon. It is a key and lock all in one, a living piece of my very body and the contract that binds us dragons to humans. It is a medium made of my flesh and energy, born when I was born, and utterly indestructible yet it will die if I die… When the Souls Binding Contract occurred, I suppose the seal or key could have taken any shape…” his voice became thoughtful, lost. “But it took the shape of a weapon, dragons had no need for such crude tools. They already are a part of us, our fangs and claws have always been a part of who we are. But you humans always need something more to defend yourselves…perhaps that is why it takes the shape that mirrors our own natural defenses, so that our partners and carrier of half ours souls can better protect themselves and the heavy burden they are charged with.”

  Ange frowned, his explanation left more confusing questions than answered. But she figured it was just as much as a mystery to him as it was to her.

  She felt unsure, yet thrilled. She found herself locked in a struggle she did not completely understand. On one hand, she was excited at the idea of being bound to a dragon and having all the powers and gifts he had mentioned. On the other side, she felt reluctant and even scared at the idea of living for ages and possibly relinquishing her shattered dream of becoming the leader of the Black Owls someday, and that she could rebuild the guild if she really wanted to, though it would take a long time.