Dragon Novels: Volume I, The

by Irene Radford

  Three slow breaths brought her close to a trance. Three more and the void beckoned. Carefully she visualized the place she must take herself and Simeon. The office on the ground floor. She’d been there before with a bribe to Brunix for making the silver lace she preferred on her black gowns.

  A quick grab at the power of the void and a quicker release. Visualization of their bodies three heartbeats before the beginning of the spell, but inside the building.

  The air around them shifted and shimmered. Blackness, cold, no sense of body or self. Five heartbeats she endured the sensory deprivation. Then the image of the neat, white painted office wrapped around her and Simeon. She landed heavily, body and head spinning. Her passenger began searching the office before she had fully recovered.

  Katrina didn’t waste time sorting and choosing lace. Making a basket of her skirt she gathered the shawl and as much of the Tambrin lace as she could carry. Her pillow, the one P’pa had sold to Brunix, fit under her arm, the patterns tucked neatly inside the cylinder.

  Her coworker, Taalia, staggered into the flat, more intent on loot than her own safety. Katrina barely spared her a glance. There was a second pillow and piles of lace for any who cared to grab them. She hated the thought of this greedy, spiteful woman claiming anything. With Brunix dead and the city collapsing around them, possession didn’t seem to matter any more.

  In moments she was back in the workroom.

  Jack stood beneath the window where he had sheltered her from Brunix and the palace magician. An expression of relief, bordering on bliss, filled his bruised and filthy face.

  “I’ll need you to Sing again, Katrina,” he said. His eyes were closed and his chin lifted as if listening to something far away.

  “What . . . what are you going to do?” She couldn’t bring herself to stand next to him. His entire body seemed to glow with an eerie blue light.

  Ghosts were supposed to look like that. Once more she looked for signs of her mother’s spirit. Half relieved and half disappointed at not finding her, she turned her full attention on Jack.

  Sounds of more buildings crashing together outside dominated her senses.

  “We’re cut off. I have to transport you and the lace to Shayla,” Jack stated.

  Fear pressed against Katrina’s chest. Transport? Magic! Where did he get the strength and the will?

  “Now listen closely. Shayla is large and formidable. But she won’t hurt you. Don’t be frightened. You must secure the lace to her wing with touches of glue.” He held out a pot of spirit gum he’d liberated from Brunix’s office on the way to the workroom. “Small touches of the glue, just enough to hold the lace in position.”

  “I can’t do it alone, Jack.”

  “You must. I have to stay here to keep Simeon and Rejiia from following you. I sense them coming closer. Sing while you patch Shayla’s wing. Sing like you did in the dungeon. The dragon will take you and your father to safety.”

  “You have to come with me, Jack. I can’t let you die here.” She rushed to his side, dropping her pillow at their touching feet so she could grab his arm.

  “I’ll follow when I can.” He opened his eyes and looked at her with longing. “Remember me kindly, Katrina. Now Sing as if your life depended upon it.”

  The only tune that came to mind was the work tune she hummed to herself as she worked alone at night. A few hesitant notes rose within her. Then certain that her songs gave this magician power, she opened her mouth wide and let the notes soar with her heart. If he needed more power to come with her, then she’d give it to him.

  Jack felt another major ley line collapse. His preparation for transport faltered. The void appeared and disappeared before him.

  Someone had thrown a powerful spell very close.

  Rejiia or Simeon? How close were they?

  He sent his awareness in a quick dart around the building. Two lives filled with purpose approached.

  “The shawl is near. I can feel it. The runes threaten me!” King Simeon’s voice.

  “Upstairs. The source of power is directly above us,” Rejiia said.

  The king’s mistress was close. Too close.

  Jack faltered in his deep breathing. The memory of the pain she had inflicted upon him sent his heart racing. His mind went blank. He had to get away from her!

  “Jack, what’s wrong?” Katrina tugged at his arm.

  Reality and purpose broke through his instinctive panic. “Rejiia and Simeon. Let go of my arm so I can send you to Shayla.”

  “No. She’ll kill you this time. You must come with me.” She held tighter as she changed her Song.

  Jack ignored her plea and accessed the void. From memory, he built a mental picture of the field outside the lair. He added the waterfall and the pool, tall cliffs and clumps of stunted Tambootie trees. The dragonets and Shayla climbed into the picture of their own volition. Lastly he added the big blue-tipped male, Fraank, and Corby.

  Then, he drew on all the power of the ley lines as he moved Katrina and her bundle of lace into the field, an arm-length from the edge of the pool. He’d better send her pillow, too; she’d risked much to salvage it.

  He barely noticed the feminine arm clutching his shoulders. He heard only the love ballad Katrina Sang with renewed vigor.

  “There they are!” Simeon called out. “She’s got the shawl. We have to stop them!”

  Cold blackness engulfed Katrina suddenly, painfully. She cried out but no sound emerged. For several heartbeats she lost contact with her body and her senses. Jack seemed to dissolve beneath her grasp.

  Before she could panic, awareness of her feet returned. Spongy grass beneath her ragged slippers. Birds chirping. A roar in the background.

  Instinctively she ducked away from the sound, expecting the ceiling to crash around her. Then she realized ’twas only water rushing from the mountains toward the sea. Were they on the riverbank?

  Bright sunshine pierced Katrina’s closed eyelids. Shivering and scared, she continued clinging to Jack. His body felt solid once more beneath her grasping hand.

  Cautiously she opened one eye a tiny slit. A lush meadow filled with wild flowers sparkled with dew in the first kiss of the morning sun.

  Bees flitted from flower to flower. A pool fed by a mighty waterfall lapped at her feet. Bushes rustled, and she was certain someone or something watched her with predatory instincts.

  Born and bred in the city, she’d never seen anything like this wild valley.

  “Jack?” she whispered. “Jack, where are you?”

  He, too, opened one eye. “You are where you are supposed to be, outside the dragon lair. I’m supposed to be back in the city, preventing Rejiia and Simeon from following you.”

  “I . . . I . . .” Katrina stammered and blushed. Only then did she become aware that her arm was still wrapped around his naked shoulders. His arm held her close against his side as if he never intended to let go. A hair’s breadth separated her mouth from his. Their hearts beat in unison as they breathed in counterpoint.

  A long moment of awareness awoke within her. She stared at the curve of his full lips surrounded by a sensuously thick beard and mustache. A part of her needed to know if the silky hair was as soft as Tambrin.

  “Jack! You’re back,” a quavering male voice called. The man, thin and stoop-shouldered, appeared from behind the curtain of the waterfall.

  Jack stepped away from her and turned his head toward the man. A chill of foreboding planted itself in Katrina’s mind as Jack removed the warmth of his body from contact with her—though only half an arm-length separated them.

  Something familiar in the approaching man’s voice brought Katrina’s gaze away from the wonder of Jack’s mouth to watch the man pick his way around the pool.

  “What happened to you, Jack? You’re a mess. Worse than in the mines. And who is this with you?” The man shielded his eyes from the increasingly bright sun with his hand. He blinked several times and then stumbled over nothing. “Stargods, is that you, K
atrina?”

  “P’pa!” Had his hair and beard always been so thin and gray? “Oh, P’pa,” she rushed to his side, still cradling the treasure of lace in her skirt.

  Father and daughter stared at each other for long moments, drinking in the sight of a long-lost loved one.

  The pain and the anger against P’pa she had nursed for three years faded at the sight of his frail body. What she had suffered at the hands of Brunix was nothing compared to what he must have endured in the mines.

  Jack had lived through the same anguish as her father and emerged strong and resourceful.

  Her father had wasted away. Dark purple shadows made hollows of his eyes. Knots of pain gnarled his finger joints. His shoulders bent under the weight of the world.

  “Katey, how you’ve grown! A beautiful woman now, tall as your M’ma and more beautiful than ever.” Hesitantly he gathered her into his arms. Tears flowed freely from both of them.

  “I never thought to see you again, P’pa. I never hoped to find . . . to find . . .” Her thoughts clumped in her throat unable to get around three years of unshed tears.

  He doesn’t know that you were sold into slavery also. Spare him, please. Jack spoke directly into her mind. His pain at having to watch his only friend waste away in a long death became her pain.

  “But for Jack I wouldn’t have survived. I owe him my life. I owe him more for bringing you to me.” P’pa coughed. A great shuddering exhalation.

  Katrina, with her ear pressed to her father’s chest, was reminded of the tremors beneath Queen’s City.

  “P’pa,” she moaned, holding him close. Frantically, she prayed that he had escaped the mine in time, that fresh air, sunshine, and rest would heal him.

  “Fraank, Katrina, I must tell you that Tattia did not commit suicide,” Jack said sadly. He didn’t want to talk about death now. His own hovered too close. But he had to give these two people, the only people in the world he dared call friends, the slight comfort of the news. “Simeon had her murdered.”

  Fraank swallowed deeply several times as if Tattia’s death had just happened, not three years ago. “How do you know?” he finally said.

  “Her ghost sought me out. She was stabbed with a ritual knife by one of Simeon’s coven. The same knife that killed Brunix.”

  Katrina hung her head briefly, then looked up. Relief smoothed the lines of grief on her beautiful face. “Thank you, Jack. I suspected as much. There is a little comfort in knowing she did not take her own life.”

  “Do you remember, the night before she died, Katey. She was almost happy that night. She acted as if she had found something to hope for.” Fraank dashed a tear from his eyes.

  “Sorry to interrupt with bad news. You can reminisce later, Fraank. We’ve work to do and enemies on our tail,” Jack reminded them. A shirt appeared in his hands. He winced as he slid his arms into the sleeves. “Where’s Corby?”

  P’pa shrugged his shoulders. “Haven’t seen the bird.”

  “I hope he’s all right. ’Tis a long flight from the city.” Worry furrowed his brow and marked his posture as he scanned the picturesque vale for signs of one noisy, black bird.

  Chapter 37

  ‘Oh my!” Katrina whispered. Jack watched her eyes grow round and her mouth open in wonder as two dragonets, Rufan and Amaranth, glided into the valley and landed at his feet. As tall and as long as he, either of the two were enough to frighten away most predators. Only the silvery softness of their fur and the ill-defined edges of babyhood made their appearance less intimidating.

  Rufan greeted him with a joyous nudge of his steedlike muzzle. A nudge that nearly toppled Jack into the pool. The knob of Rufan’s unformed spiral horn pressed painfully into Jack’s still damaged side.

  Amaranth tried to ease Jack’s grimace of pain by fanning him with his silvery wings. The resulting wind sent waves of water from the pool back into the waterfall.

  “Hi, ’gnets. Where’s your mama?” Jack hooked his arm around Amaranth’s neck, effectively curtailing any further pranks. And while he touched the purple-tip, he gathered as much magic as he could to repair and replenish his body.

  He also looked through Amaranth’s memories for the remains of last night’s hunt, properly roasted by dragon fire. A thought brought a hunk of meat, big enough for him and Katrina to share.

  He smiled at Katrina’s rapidly changing expressions. First she tried to giggle at the eager antics of the baby dragons. Then the rippling sound died aborning as Shayla emerged from the lair. The vastness of her crystalline outline reminded them that Amaranth and his companion were still babies after all. Momentary fear, then awe widened Katrina’s eyes until he could see cloud shadows in them.

  (Welcome.) Shayla nodded her head in greeting. (The children missed you, Jack.)

  “I missed them too, Shayla,” Jack said around a mouthful of meat.

  Katrina dipped a hasty curtsy. Her eyes were still glued to the dragon and her mouth slightly agape. But the beginnings of a smile tugged at her lips.

  “I . . . I brought you some lace, ma’am,” she stammered. “How do I address a dragon?” she whispered aside to Jack.

  A little of the strain of the last few days showed in the tight cords of her neck and glazed eyes.

  (We prefer the use of names, Katrina.)

  “Yes, ma’am . . . I mean, Shayla.”

  “Our enemies will follow shortly,” Jack interrupted. “We have to set the patch without delay.” He scanned the skies uneasily for signs of Corby. An entire day and night had passed since he’d sent the bird. How far could one lonely jackdaw fly in that amount of time?

  While Katrina spread her treasure of Tambrin lace out on the grass, Shayla hunkered down close by, wings slightly spread. Katrina kept looking up at the dragon as if she expected to be eaten at any moment. Fraank knelt beside her. Jack paced wearily, stretching his senses for any sign of Rejiia and Simeon.

  “No need to fret, Katey,” Fraank soothed his daughter. “Shayla and her family hid me from Simeon’s agents. They’ve fed me and kept me company. They’ll not hurt you.” The older man fingered the lace.

  Jack scanned the skies once more. He allowed his gaze to linger on the irregular knob atop the cliff. The blue-tipped male still perched there, surveying the vale.

  (I will keep watch, Jack. You may work your spell and then we will all flee to safety,) the blue-tip said.

  What about the babies? Can they fly well enough to reach a safe haven? Jack kept half his attention on Katrina and Shayla as they examined the lace. He kept munching the meat, refueling his body, even after the venison had lost its first savory appeal.

  (We’ve been practicing flying in the void. Don’t worry about dragons. Worry about yourself and your lady.) A chuckle rippled from the male dragon’s throat.

  Jack was about to contradict the dragon about his status with Katrina and changed his mind. Arguing with dragons just wasted breath. They never changed their minds.

  Where’s Corby? he asked, focusing his mental words on a tight line to the dragon.

  (I cannot find him.) The dragon sounded puzzled but not worried. (He is a wild bird and did not bond with you easily. He fought my compulsion to aid you with many temper tantrums. He may have returned to the wild now that your quest is nearly finished.)

  “I hope so. I’d hate to think Rejiia managed to capture him after all. She is the more powerful of our two enemies. Simeon’s obsession with the runes within one piece of lace has narrowed his power. He sees only one objective and ignores all other possibilities and dangers.”

  Dragon thought exploded in Jack’s mind. (Runes! What runes?)

  “Part of a design Katrina’s mother wove into one of those pieces.” Jack gestured toward the selection of lace spread out on the grass in a prearranged pattern for attaching to the wing. “Nothing important.”

  The blue-tip spread his wings and glided from his perch into the meadow. The wind from his passage scattered the array of lace like sea foam on the beach of th
e Great Bay.

  Shayla stretched her undamaged wing protectively over Katrina and the frothy lace. Her high-pitched hiss of reprimand pierced Jack’s ears. He slapped his hands over the offended organs.

  Too late he realized the temporary deafness obscured another sound born on the wind.

  But the dragonets heard it and greeted the invasion of their peaceful vale by a flock of noisy crows with mock anger. Ten baby dragons took wing, eager for a new game of chase and harry.

  The crows were being herded by a purpose more fearsome than a dozen playful dragons. Scout birds broke away from their arrowhead formation and flew in the opposite direction, screeching defiance. The dragonets left the main flock to pursue the individuals. Deep within the birds’ ranks struggled a wounded member of the flock. They all dived together for the pool at the base of the waterfall.

  “Quickly, Katrina, get the patch set. Anchor it with a Song and the glue. Shayla, as soon as you can get air under that wing, take Katrina to safety. Brevelan’s clearing will shelter you until it’s healed. One of your mates can carry Fraank. Take the babies with you. Especially Amaranth and his twin. We can’t take a chance that Rejiia will trap them and gather their magic!” Jack barked orders right and left as he erected his personal armor and settled himself for the battle of his life.

  “What about you, Jack?” Katrina asked as she shook out the largest piece of lace in the collection. The shawl wasn’t large enough to cover the hole in Shayla’s wing. She would need many of the smaller pieces to complete the patch.

  “I have to delay Rejiia and Simeon here. They’re right behind the birds. They probably followed the trail of our earlier transport. They can’t be allowed to follow Shayla.” He turned his back on the patching procedure.

  The squawking flock of black birds zoomed downward with increasing speed. They were close enough now for Jack to pick out the weakest member. A larger, stronger bird flew directly beneath it, preventing it from falling when its wings failed. Other birds circled it in tight formation, protecting it from the worst of the wind.