Dragon Guardian of Land

by Keira Blackwood

  I said, “It’s Astra, Astra Rhodes.”

  “Astra.” He rolled the syllables over his tongue, like he was savoring each and every one.

  And it did things to me, swirly things to my insides. I swear, if he was just a regular man back on my boat, I’d be tempted to tear that scrap of fabric from his hips and ride him while he said my name over and over again. Not that I ever did that kind of thing.

  And it didn’t matter how hot he was, because he wasn’t a regular man. He was a dragon, and I was his prisoner.

  I forced myself to look away.

  The cave lit up as a flash of light came from behind me. I turned, and Celedon was sporting wings again, big green scaly appendages like a pterodactyl’s. He spread his wings, taking over the shore with their vast expanse, and with a few powerful flaps he rose up toward the spiked ceiling of the cave and flew past me.

  “I must attend to other matters.” His voice boomed over the water as he soared toward the exit to the cavern. “You may explore the lake. The water is clean and safe to swim in and drink.” He landed just beyond the opening to the bridge that ascended up the river passage. “You will stay here.”

  Thick woody vines erupted from the floor in front of him and reached to the top of the river passage, creating an impassable wall. A rainbow of flowers bloomed on the bars, separating me from Celedon.

  And I was left in my beautiful prison.

  Alone.

  Chapter 6

  Astra

  What’s worse than being trapped in a dragon’s den? Being trapped with my own thoughts.

  I lay on the shore by the edge of the water, exactly where Celedon had left me. Time had passed, though I had no way to tell how much.

  I stared up at the ceiling, at the sparkling stone daggers, knowing I should get up. It had been long enough. I needed to get up.

  My energy felt like it had been siphoned away, like if I lifted a finger, it would be too great a burden for my body to bear. So I lay still.

  Images flooded my brain, memories of my ship tipping over, of my father running toward the pirates. The glass had shattered. The waves flooded in, thrashing, pulling. It was a nightmare I couldn’t shake, and it was real.

  Somehow I’d ended up here. Alive.

  If I could do it, why not someone else from the crew, too? Dad or Polly could be out there, on the coast unconscious, waiting for help. Waiting for me.

  That was all the motivation I needed. My crew could be out there, and a captain never gave up.

  I forced myself to sit up, and I listened.

  Water moved, creating soft, lulling sounds. But that was it. There was no flapping or vine earthquaking sounds. There was no one here but me.

  I headed up the vine bridge to my cell door.

  The plants were so densely grown together that I could only see through a few tiny partings in the leaves. I wrapped my fingers around two of them. They were as thick as small trees and just as solid. I tugged, but they didn’t budge.

  Back down at the bottom of the bridge, I looked around for something I could use as a weapon or tool. I stopped at the threshold of the living quarters Celedon had created for me. Walking in felt like giving up. I’d do it if I had to, if there was something useful for me to wield, but all I saw was beauty and luxury—nothing I needed.

  The only other possibility was the lake.

  I knelt down on the edge and peered into the water. My reflection was a mess—dark, sunken eyes, wild hair. I hardly recognized myself. But that wasn’t important either.

  Deep below the surface were rocks and crevices. It was too dark down there to see well, but there could be a way to swim out of here. There were bound to be passages along the lake floor, and even if not, there was always the river.

  Could I swim uphill against the river current, holding my breath long enough to resurface on the other side of the rocks? I wasn’t sure.

  No, not with as worn down as I was. It was too dangerous. I needed a better plan.

  Deep down at the bottom of the lake, something white sparkled in the flower-light. Like the giant crystal stalactites that covered the ceiling of the cave, there were a few tiny stalagmites at the bottom of the lake between others that were at least as big as me.

  The crystals might just be pointy and sharp enough to tear through the vines.

  I pulled off my boots and socks and set them beside me on the ground. My clothes were finally dry, so I wasn’t jazzed about the idea of getting them wet again.

  One last listen for signs of Celedon’s return, and I was content that I was alone.

  I peeled my shirt and pants off, and dipped my toes into the clear water. It was cool but not frigid. Not bad at all, really. I slipped down waist deep and waded into the lake. Honestly, under different circumstances it would have been quite pleasant.

  I sucked in a deep breath and dove for the nearest crystal. If I had to guess, I’d say it was about twenty feet down. The lake was darker the deeper I swam, but I could see well enough to know when I’d reached my target.

  I grabbed the crystal and pulled. Instead of budging the thing, my hand slipped right off the top. I grabbed the crystal right at its base with both hands and put my feet on the rock surface below, hoping to get some leverage. This time, I pushed off the rock with the strength of my legs and wrenched the crystal at an angle.

  The sparkling stone crystal snapped free of the earth. A cloud of dirt trailed behind it, fogging the otherwise clear water.

  Prize in hand, I swam to the surface. The air was cold as I filled my lungs, colder on my wet skin. Shivering, I redressed and ran back to the vines that were blocking my escape.

  With the sharp end of the crystal, I stabbed and tore at the vines. The stone tore through the green flesh with ease.

  “Yes!” I was giddy with my first taste of victory. I would escape this cell.

  The tear healed over with an ugly brown scar right before my eyes.

  “No!” And just as quickly, I was crushed with another taste of defeat.

  Magic—Celedon had said his power had to do with magic. If magic was real, what did that mean about my dad’s journal? Was his whole excursion based on a truth I just didn’t understand?

  It didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was escape.

  These vines weren’t just made with magic, they were magic. Or something like that.

  I flopped down onto the vine bridge, which was probably made of the same stuff as the door. The impact jostled some dirt from the wall around the door. I only noticed it because it landed on my face.

  I shook my head and spit the dust from my lips. Everything in the whole damned underground cave was immaculate. Not a speck of dirt to be found, even on the floor. But this...this was promising.

  I sat up and put my hand to the wall next to the vines. There was stone freaking everywhere. Everywhere but right here. The vines were outlined by a section of dirt.

  Celedon must have had to alter the composition of the stone to grow the plants here, or something like that. Plants need dirt, lucky me.

  Weapon in hand, I chipped away at the hard soil. The crystal knocked chunks of rock and dirt down to the water below. They plopped as they landed, a satisfying anthem for my escape.

  Soon I wouldn’t be a prisoner anymore. I’d search for my people, for other survivors of the wreck. Soon I wouldn’t be alone. And I’d be free.

  Chapter 7

  Celedon

  Rest eluded me, so I paced my quarters.

  After chiding Astra for her dishonesty, I’d lied to her and fled her presence. In nearly three hundred years of living, I had never spoken anything but truth before. And then she crashed into my life, an earthquake devastating everything that had been.

  I’d never felt so unsettled. Never so drawn to anyone. I was losing my composure, and I didn’t care for it.

  I’d thought I needed time and distance to clear my mind, yet being apart seemed to only feed the poison that was my agitation. But at least I had develo
ped a plan of action.

  First, I would speak to her, preferably through the door.

  Then, when I had a better grip on the truth of Astra’s situation, I would speak to Kaelestis.

  I put on a fresh pair of pants and closed my eyes, listening to the movement of the water beneath the stone floor. There. I pinpointed the location of the lake. With the swipe of my palm, I opened a hole in the wall. I imagined the hole as a snaking tunnel that led to the lake chamber, and as I willed the earth, it obeyed.

  I followed the tunnel into the cavern where I had left Astra.

  Quiet—the cave was too quiet.

  A sense of dread hung over me like a mountain carried on my shoulders.

  Something was wrong.

  “Astra?” I called out.

  No reply.

  I checked her room and peered down into the water. Astra wasn’t here.

  Where was she?

  Up the bridge, I examined the stalks I’d created to close the entry. There were marks from shallow cuts at the base of one of the plants that had since healed. That wasn’t how she’d escaped. There was a hole in the dirt alongside the bars. If I had to guess, it was just enough space for her petite body to fit through.

  I should have been more careful.

  With any luck, I’d find Astra in the tunnels. If she made it outside, my chances of finding her before something happened to her diminished. The island’s terrain could be perilous for someone who wasn’t familiar with the cliffs and streams, with the animals and shifter inhabitants.

  My people had intended her as an offering, tying her up as a snack for a dragon. What would the others do if they encountered a human? What fate would she meet if she came across the hyena tribe? Or one of the tribes who served my brothers? It was at least as likely for her to find trouble as it was to find help.

  And if Astra attempted to leave the island, she would not breach my brother’s barriers a second time.

  I had to find her first.

  With a flick of my wrist, the plant gate aged in reverse. Blooms shrunk into buds, and thick stalks shrank into shoots, until the plants and their roots had reverted to seeds. Then those, too, returned their elements to the earth, so the bridge met stone, and it was as if the gate had never been created.

  I followed the path over the river bridge and the granite hall, noting a patch of bioluminescent moss was missing from the wall. I listened for sounds of movement down wayward passages when the tunnel split. There was nothing.

  When the floor became dirt, there were boot prints to follow, signs of confusion and backtracking. But without question, she’d made it outside.

  At the mouth of the cave, Astra’s tracks became less distinct, disrupted by the stones and grasses of the forest floor. The forest was dark, the thick canopy soaking up so much of the moonlight that little reached the ground.

  More time had passed than I’d realized. Poor night vision would be a disadvantage for her, one that made her less able to move quickly. Still, there was no telling exactly how far Astra had run. She was both spirited and determined.

  I could search on foot, but my best chance was to fly.

  The urgency I felt as I took off was both foreign and unwelcome, much like the other new emotions Astra had evoked in me. Wayward thoughts clouded the clarity I required to properly focus on the task at hand.

  What if she stumbled into the desert? What if she encountered a golden anaconda?

  I suppressed the what-ifs, and the worry that came with them. The human woman would be fine. If she wasn’t, my duty was not disrupted, so why did it matter? I didn’t have an answer.

  Her wellbeing was important to me.

  Wind carried me over the forest. Wings spread wide, I spiraled out from my cave, scouring the ground below for signs of Astra. There was none.

  I’d underestimated her, first in my assumption that my warning and my blocking of the passage would be enough to dissuade her from her goals. Second, in my hopes that she’d remain close, and that finding her would not be difficult.

  Lycaon Village came into view. Expansive tree houses were interconnected by a system of vine bridges, much like the one in my cave. Other huts clustered below, all walled in by a living palisade. There appeared to be more dwellings than I remembered, more gardens, more life. Torches kept the village alight, even in the darkest of night.

  There also appeared to be more villagers outside than expected, given the hour.

  Perhaps another tribe had come for guidance after capturing Astra.

  I swooped down and landed in the center of the village. Those who had stood in the way quickly moved.

  Cast in light, I shifted back to human form.

  Two women ran up to me and wrapped a cloth over my hips, whispering to each other. Villagers who had scattered gathered once more in the center of the village. Others poured from their dwellings—men, women, and children alike, waking from their slumber for a glimpse of their guardian dragon.

  How long had it been since I’d visited my people here in the village? None were familiar to me as I searched their faces. Perhaps it had been too long.

  “My lord, Celedon.” There was a voice that I recognized, one that belonged to my warrior.

  I turned to Thorn.

  “What brings you to the village? News of the blight?” His face remained hard, but unfounded hope rippled through the crowd.

  “No,” I said.

  “Looks like we won’t need you to reach him after all.” A thin man appeared beside Thorn. His eyes were sunken and wild, the hair on his face and head unkempt. Nothing about the man’s appearance was alarming in and of itself, but the combination paired with his wild scent...well, that was a different story.

  “Introduce us, Thorn.” The man elbowed my warrior.

  Thorn’s mouth grew tight. He did not wish to do so.

  “It is fine,” I said.

  “My lord Celedon, this is Herrik, Alpha of the Coyote Tribe.” Thorn shifted his gaze over the man beside him.

  Coyote—one of the tribes that was not connected to any of the guardians.

  Herrik held out his hand as if to shake mine. A woman gasped.

  “What business do you have in Wolf Village, Herrik of the Coyote Tribe?” I clasped my wrists behind my back.

  His jaw ticked, and he did not respond. Time away from the guardians had made the alpha both bold and lacking in etiquette. I didn’t appreciate the familiarity this man assumed.

  “I come to ask a favor.” Herrik’s face split in a wide grin.

  Thorn’s face grew red, his muscles tense. I clasped his shoulder in reassurance. I did not blame him for the coyote’s behavior.

  Herrik continued, “As a gesture of good faith between tribes, we’d like you to open this.” He pulled a golden cube out from his cloak, and held it out to me.

  Thorn snatched it from his hand, and inspected it.

  “Not you,” the coyote sneered.

  “What is it?” Thorn asked.

  “It has nothing to do with you.” Herrik attempted to reclaim the cube to no avail, dancing around Thorn in an attempt to get close. Thorn easily deterred him, holding out an arm to keep Herrik back.

  Thorn handed the cube to me. Herrik froze, his eyes widening.

  It was engraved with ornate gold markings that resembled vines, and felt lighter than it looked. I turned it over in my hands. There appeared to be no latch or indication that it could in fact be opened.

  I looked to the coyote. His beady eyes were dark and greedy.

  This man was not to be trusted.

  I squeezed the box in my fist. “I will accept this gift as a gesture of good faith between the coyote and wolf tribes.”

  His expression dropped, but he did not protest.

  “Come, Thorn,” I said. “We have matters to discuss.”

  I slipped the cube into the magical storage space that could not be seen or reached by anyone but me. My pocket appeared as nothing more than a slit in reality, while in actuality it
was a small portal. Then the two of us walked through the village to the gateway and out into the forest for privacy.

  When we were far enough that no one would overhear, Thorn turned to me and frowned. “They told me what happened while I was away. About the woman. I apologize for—”

  I waved my hand. “It is not your fault. Has she returned? Has Astra been seen?”

  To my own ears I sounded too invested, too anxious. I could only imagine what Thorn perceived. Image was of no consequence, though; all that mattered was finding Astra.

  “She...escaped?” He looked over my face. “No, I haven’t seen her. No one has said anything about finding her a second time.”

  I nodded. “Search for her. She is not to be harmed. Astra is under my protection.”

  I only prayed I wasn’t too late.

  Chapter 8

  Astra

  Somehow, I managed to find my way first through the forest and then the jungle without breaking any bones or being eaten alive. Navigating the island was an entirely different experience alone in the dark. I was sniffing out the way on my own instead of being ushered forward by a group of muscle men.

  As I stumbled onto the shore, I dropped to my knees and ran my fingers through the sand. The cool crystals fell away as I lifted my palms. I did it.

  Darkness lifted, stygian blue fading to the unique haze that meant the sun would soon rise. I rose to my feet, wondering if this was the same place I’d washed ashore. The beach seemed to stretch on for miles in both directions, though it was hard to tell for sure.

  I picked a direction and started walking, wondering just how big this place really was. Celedon had said, “You can’t escape the island,” or something like that. I figured that implied the place didn’t have a name and needed one. I could call it Rhodes Island after myself, but that was boring and a little too much like Rhode Island. Dragon Island. Yep, that was it. It would have been a lot more ominous if he’d told me, “You’re forever trapped on Dragon Island.” In my head it was his deep voice saying the words, and I shivered. Funny, since I wasn’t even cold.