Bonds of Fire
Page 1
Bonds of Fire
By
Sophie Duncan
This publication is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organisations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
An imprint of Wittegen Press
https://www.wittegenpress.com
Copyright 2011 by Sophie Duncan
https://www.wiitegenpress.com/sophieduncan
Cover art by Tasha D-Drake
Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favourite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.
ISBN: 978-1-908333-09-4
~*~
Dedication
Thank you to Tasha for all your help.
~*~
Contents
Bonds of Fire
Afterword
~*~
Bonds of Fire
Drekken drew in a deep lungful of air, gagged and then coughed violently as his mouth filled with dust. His first instinct was to push himself away from the ground, but his muscles strained and he only managed to move his head to the side as weight pinned him to the earth. Momentary panic sliced down Drekken's spine as he remembered the wall collapsing down on top of him, but he stifled it quickly with well-practised discipline and forced himself to still. He took in several more, smaller, but calming breaths and assessed his situation like any good officer.
Rubble was pressing down all over his body, but he could feel his gliders still spread out above him from his hasty landing and their leathery surface was protecting much of his body from direct contact. He tested the implants' response by flicking his shoulder blades and they shifted, although his right shoulder complained, so he guessed he was in one piece, more or less. However, the rubble above him groaned and shifted, pressing his legs down even more, and so he halted his movements.
Heart hammering in his chest, Drekken waited for the shifting to stop, breathing shallowly to minimise his intake of the acrid dust that filled the little space around his head. He didn't like enclosed spaces, he needed the feel of the wind on his skin as he flew high above the trees on Miri's back, and he thought of his dragon as the waiting went on. He had no idea what had happened to her: the battle had been thick and bad, four squadrons of dragons at close quarters with an overwhelming number of strike jets. They had been the more manoeuvrable, natural wings being much more agile than metal skeletons, but the Feras had been developing new weapons that could tear off a dragon's wing and avoiding one such attack had forced Drekken to bail from Miri's saddle. His gliders had saved him from crashing to earth, but then the wall had come down and he had not been able to return to his friend.
However, there was no time to dwell. Miri was alive, otherwise he would have known, so working himself free was the most important concern. Pushing Miri's fate to the back of his mind, Drekken focused on his current predicament. Apart from his shoulder, there was no more overt pain, so Drekken wriggled carefully, aware of the precarious pile of concrete above him, until he had his hands close by the sides of his body. Then, knowing he probably only had one chance, he focused his energy and, with one more breath, pushed up with his arms and legs and flexed his gliders. It felt like his wings were being ripped off his back as broken wall weighed them down and his shoulder screamed at the strain, but Drekken growled out his pain and forced himself upwards.
The weight above him tumbled away and the relief of freedom washed through Drekken's shuddering body. His limbs were trembling too much for him to make it off his knees, so he came to a halt still waist-deep in rubble and blinking away the dust in his eyes. He scanned his immediate area, training kicking in even though he couldn't see clearly, and he only relaxed when he caught no sign of movement. It was quiet now, no sounds of magic or dragon-fire exploding overhead, just the eerie silence of a town destroyed by fighting and Drekken sagged, using his left arm to stop himself collapsing completely. As he moved, it proved the last straw for his helmet and the armour fell off his head, landing in two pieces in front of him, magic arcing wildly out of the circuitry within its layers.
"Dammit," Drekken swore as his only means of communication died.
That was it, he was on his own in some godforsaken mountain village in the most disputed territory of the war: his day could not get any worse.