Into a Dragon's Soul: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (Chronicles of the Four Book 3)

by Marissa Farrar

  “We need to find water,” Orergon said.

  Dela shook her head. “We can’t leave the egg here alone, and it’s heavy. I don’t want to carry it any distance.”

  “You and Vehel stay here,” Orergon replied. “Warsgra and I can see if there are any streams through those trees.”

  Vehel was happy to have some time alone with Dela. Since Warsgra had mentioned about his brother taking Ridley, he’d been twisted with guilt. Even though he hadn’t been there and knew nothing about it, he still felt responsible. It was his family, after all. Why was it that whenever his father or brothers came into things, they always seemed to mess things up for him? He didn’t want Dela to think badly of him now.

  They watched the other two make their way down the hillside, and then he turned to her.

  “I’m sorry, Dela.”

  She frowned. “What are you sorry for?”

  “It was my brother who took yours. I’m ashamed of being related to my father and brothers at times.”

  She reached out and squeezed his hand. “You weren’t even there, Vehel. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Maybe not, but I still feel responsible for my own kind.”

  She gave a cold laugh. “The humans aren’t exactly perfect either. We’ve caused more harm than the Elvish ever have. I won’t take on all of their sins, just like I don’t expect you to, either.”

  She had a point. It was because of the humans that he hadn’t been able to do magic his whole life, but he didn’t hold her responsible for that. It was different, though, when it was direct family.

  “I wish I’d known,” he said instead. “I wish I’d been able to stop Vehten from putting your brother in the catacombs.”

  He was surprised he hadn’t heard that they’d taken a human male prisoner. News like that would normally have traveled around the castle. But perhaps their father had realized things might turn ugly if news got out that the Elvish had taken a human hostage. Surely Vehten doing that had broken the Treaty long before him doing magic had?

  Or else Ridley had simply not made it back with Vehten and had died in the Southern Pass, just like Dela had believed all these years. The possibility made his stomach turn. He didn’t want Dela to be disappointed either. But she needed to know the truth, and the only way they’d ever get that truth would be directly from his brother’s mouth. He was ashamed to admit the idea of confronting Vehten and his father made him nervous. Would they make him appear weak and pathetic in front of Dela? He vowed to do everything he could to stand up to them.

  A black dot appeared on the horizon and quickly took shape.

  “The dragon’s back already.” Acid curled up his throat at the thought of being able to eat something.

  “Good. I’m starving.”

  Vehel’s arm found its way around Dela’s waist, and he held her close, both of them ducking as the massive creature swooped, circling the hillside once, before setting himself down. The dragon ducked his head and dropped several charred lumps on the ground.

  Vehel sniffed at the scent of burned meat. “Appetizing.”

  Dela jabbed him in the side with her elbow. “It’s meat, and it’s already cooked for us.”

  She went to the dragon and ran her hand along the scales of his long neck. “Thank you,” she said, and the dragon snorted out a puff of smoke from his nostrils.

  She continued along the length of his neck until she reached his head and the spot where he’d dropped his catch. Vehel imagined how those scales felt beneath her palm—warm and smooth, with ridges where they overlapped. He didn’t dare stroke the dragon, knowing he was only tolerating the men because they were with Dela. He didn’t like to imagine what the dragon would do should one of them upset her.

  Still, he followed her to the charred lumps of meat that had been dropped for them. It was impossible to tell what they’d been when they’d been alive, and Vehel couldn’t help wrinkling his nose.

  Dela crouched at the offering. “Once we get the blackened skins off, I bet the meat beneath is good to eat.”

  “I think maybe Warsgra or Orergon would have been better for this job,” he said. “I probably should have gone to get the water.”

  She turned to look over her shoulder, her eyes wide. “Oh, by the Gods. Sorry, Vehel. I completely forgot you don’t eat meat.”

  He twisted his lips. “If it comes to eating meat or starving, then I’ll eat the meat, but as for skinning the creatures, Warsgra or Orergon would definitely have been better choices.” The other two men were hunters by nature, where he’d grown up in a palace, surrounded by fine things. Things hadn’t always been that way, as he’d been born in a time of war, but he’d been too young to remember the harder times.

  “Did someone call my name?” called a deep, gruff voice from farther down the hill.

  He turned to see Warsgra and Orergon heading back up the hill toward them. They’d created leaf cones, which he assumed held water, and their pockets bulged with some kind of fruit.

  “Yes, I did,” Vehel called back. “We have a job for you.”

  Warsgra lifted his nose to the air. “Aye, I can smell it. The dragon did good.”

  Dela smiled with pride. “Yes, he did.”

  Orergon reached into the leather pouch at his side and pulled out some fruit Vehel didn’t recognize. “Here. We thought you’d appreciate these.”

  Vehel took the fruit and looked down at it doubtfully. It was the size of his palm and had a thick pink skin that didn’t look edible. “Thanks.”

  “Crack it open,” Orergon told him. “It’s good, I promise.”

  He did as Orergon instructed and split the fruit open to reveal hundreds of juicy pink orbs. He scooped them out and tipped them onto his tongue where they exploded with sugary liquid.

  He nodded. “It’s good.”

  Warsgra handed him one of the leaf cones filled with water and then looked around to see what the dragon had brought. “And this is even better.”

  Without any of the squeamishness Vehel had shown, the Norc lifted the first of the charred lumps and stripped back the outer layer, which Vehel guessed must have been the animal’s skin. Just as Dela had predicted, the meat was cooked inside, and the scent of it even made Vehel’s stomach growl.

  They drank the water first, not having any way of containing it without spilling, and then sat together on the ground. Warsgra tore off chunks of meat, wrenching off a limb or two to chew on, and handing the best parts to Dela, while Orergon did the same to the second charred lump. Warsgra threw the cleaned bones to the dragon, who caught them like a pet dog—only a thousand times larger—the bones crunching in one snap between his teeth.

  Vehel eyed the meat the others tucked into. The fruit wasn’t anywhere near as filling, but it was foreign to him to put something like that in his mouth. He wasn’t as physically big as Warsgra and Orergon either, so needed less, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still hungry. They were a long way from any oceans, and their travels over the Great Dividing Range to the Southern Trough meant they weren’t going to be going near the ocean any time soon. There were always river fish, but he doubted he’d have much access to a river when he was flying on the back of the dragon.

  Tentatively, he reached over and tore a piece of meat from the carcass. It wasn’t pleasant, but he needed to stay physically strong for Dela, even if that meant eating meat.

  Her hand on the back of his stalled him. “We can try to find you some fish,” she said.

  He shook his head. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

  She smiled at him. “You’re no burden, Vehel.”

  Even so, he popped the meat in his mouth and chewed. It wasn’t as bad as he’d thought it was going to be—a little like a dried fish, only juicier. The others were all watching with the expressions of anticipation.

  He swallowed and shrugged. “Could have been worse.”

  “Good man.” Warsgra ripped him off another piece and handed it to him.

  It wasn’t som
ething he’d ever eat with the gusto Warsgra showed, but at least now he wouldn’t risk passing out from hunger and falling off the dragon’s back to his death below.

  Chapter 3

  Dela

  When the food and water was finished, they got back to their feet.

  It was time to leave.

  Dela picked up the dragon egg. There was still no sign of it hatching, other than the movement she’d felt before—no cracks in the shell, or tapping on the inside. It made her doubt she’d felt anything before. She’d been in a heightened state of anxiety when she’d experienced the movement. Maybe she’d imagined it? Or perhaps the baby dragon was simply sleeping now, or had gone back into a kind of hibernation that she must have woken it from when she’d moved the egg? Maybe the adult dragon would know more? She wished she could communicate in a way that involved more than emotions and senses. Though she was able to communicate, it wasn’t the same as being able to have a conversation.

  The dragon flattened his massive body to the ground to allow her to climb on. She took the spot at the front, between his body and right wing. To keep the weights about even, Vehel climbed onto the opposite side, and then Orergon got on behind her. Warsgra took the final place at the back on the left-hand side. The dragon was huge and fearsomely strong, so there was no concern about him being able to carry them all a large distance. He’d already flown them far from Anthoinia to bring them to safety.

  With the egg nestled against her body and everyone in place, Dela reached into her pocket with her other hand to close her fingers around the piece of Dragonstone she carried. The stone heated in her palm, and her eyes slipped shut. Energy poured through her, and she felt her body heating from the inside out, even her eyeballs burning against the backs of her eyelids, and she knew if she were able to see herself, her eyes would be the same golden color as the dragon’s. Her surroundings fell away, and all she was aware of was her connection with the beast. Their thoughts were joined, and she didn’t even need to say what she wanted or where she needed to go. In her mind, an aerial image of the Southern Pass appeared as they soared above it, the valley a dark crevasse far below. The dragon swept along the length of it, the snow-topped mountain peaks of the Great Dividing Range stretching on either side.

  The images she saw weren’t occurring in real time. She was viewing the dragon’s memory of the place, of how he’d seen it before. By seeing his memories, she knew he understood where they needed to go.

  The dragon’s wings began to move, lifting up and then beating back down. He got to his feet, rocking them from side to side, and Dela leaned in closer to his body to keep from tipping off. He took a couple of strides and launched off the ground. They were up, climbing higher and higher into the sky. She risked glancing down, but already the ground was no more than an expanse of various shades of green, with snakes of blue running through the patchwork. She remembered how difficult they’d found it to locate water sources when they’d been up north, and how much easier it would have been if they’d been on a dragon’s back then. They’d have just been able to spot the blue from a distance and have the dragon take them directly there.

  “How long do you think it’ll take us to reach the Southern Pass?” Vehel called over to her from the other side of the dragon.

  They held onto the giant spines running down the length of the dragon’s body.

  “I’m not sure, but I’ll guess at more than an hour.”

  She’d lost track of how long it had taken them to reach the hillside from Anthoinia, and it all depended on how fast the dragon was flying, which was another thing that was impossible to judge. It felt fast, the air rushing past her ears, threatening to snatch away her words.

  “We’d better settle in for the ride, then,” Warsgra shouted across at her.

  They climbed higher, reaching the point where clouds gathered in wisps. It was impossible to be bored while experiencing the rush of soaring through the damp softness of a cloud. The dragon beat his wings when he needed to climb higher, and dipped his head down to descend. Dela leaned back as he reduced height, her breath caught and her heart beating out of her chest. There was nothing more exhilarating than flying on the dragon’s back, except perhaps when she was inside the dragon’s mind and felt as though she was the one doing the flying.

  Her thoughts went to Ridley. Since Warsgra’s news, he’d been on her mind the whole time. She hated to think of him terrified and alone, wandering around catacombs in the Inverlands. What had he done for Vehel’s brother to take him prisoner? Had they fought about something, and Ridley had insulted him? Ridley had always been a bit fiery, and it wouldn’t have surprised her if he had. The Passover was always dangerous, though they didn’t normally expect the danger to come from one of the other races. What would have happened if people had learned the Elvish had taken a human prisoner? Would anyone have cared?

  It was hard, but she needed to try not to focus on Ridley at this time. She still had to deal with the human army coming through the Southern Pass, and also with the Norcs at the Southern Trough. Having the dragon was going to go a long way toward getting people to listen to her, but that didn’t mean they’d agree with her. She hoped Warsgra would be able to speak with his own people and make them see that fighting the humans wasn’t the way to go, but if the human army continued to descend upon them, they couldn’t be expected not to defend their homeland.

  Less than an hour had passed when the dragon began to descend.

  Dela risked craning her neck and leaning out to get a better view of where they were heading.

  Sure enough, the line of mountains of the Great Dividing Range stretched ahead of them, which meant the Southern Pass must be close by, too.

  “We’re nearly there,” she shouted to the men.

  Orergon’s hand found her shoulder and gave her a squeeze of reassurance. “Are you all right?”

  “Nervous,” she admitted. She didn’t want to be. She wanted to be strong and fearless. After all, she had a dragon, and a Seer had predicted she would one day rule, but this was still so new to her. She still thought of herself as just a girl from Anthoinia, a blacksmith’s helping hand—not even a true apprentice, really. How was she supposed to rule?

  Dela took a deep breath—as best she could against the air rushing around her, whipping her hair away from her face—to steady her nerves. She had to remember that Dragonsayers were meant to rule. This was her destiny, even though she hadn’t been raised as Dragonsayers had been in the past. Things were different now, but that didn’t mean they’d changed for the better. She needed to focus on all the wrongs she planned on making right.

  “Look, there!” Vehel pointed beyond the dragon’s head, toward the Great Dividing Range. They were closer now and were able to make out the black line of the Southern Pass. As they got nearer, the black line widened into a gaping chasm. A chill ran down her spine, and Dela shuddered. She recalled all too clearly what had happened the last time she’d been in the Southern Pass. She remembered the loss of her best friend, Layla, and all the others who had died when the Long White Cloud descended, and blinked back tears.

  What would happen if the same thing occurred again? Would it tear through the army from Anthoinia? She recalled the horrors she’d seen within the clouds, the demons that lurked there, waiting to tear out people’s souls. In a way, if the cloud descended, that would be one part of her problem taken care of, as she would no longer need to worry about them attacking the Norcs, but she didn’t want more people to die, especially not in such a horrific and terrifying way. And what would happen to them on the dragon if they had to go through the cloud? Would dragon fire destroy it? Or would they simply be able to fly high enough to avoid it?

  Orergon leaned forward. “How far through the Southern Pass do you think the army will be?”

  She shrugged. “I have no idea, but they’ve been traveling for several days now, so it won’t be near the start. I guess it depends on what they’ve come up against during the journey.” There
were many dangers; they all knew that.

  They reached the pass, but instead of going through it, the dragon remained above, just as he’d been when she’d seen into his memories. The pass was wide enough to take the span of the dragon’s wings, but the creature must know of the dangers the place held. By flying above, they were still able to see the floor of the Southern Pass and so catch sight of the human army as they marched through—assuming they’d made it this far.

  The warmth of the dragon’s body kept the chill of the mountains at bay, but icy fingers prickled Dela’s face as she peered down, watching out for any sign of the army. They’d grown used to warmer climes in the north, and none of them were dressed for the mountains.

  “I hope your people will be able to lend us some furs,” she called over to Warsgra.

  “Aye, I’m sure they will. Just as soon as they pick their jaws off the ground. This is one hell of a way to make an entrance, especially as most of them will assume I’m dead.”

  She grinned over at him. It certainly was a way to make an entrance. She wondered if the human army would spot them flying above them, too. News of the existence of a dragon would be all anyone would be talking about in Anthoinia, especially as half the city had turned out to watch them hang, and, in turn, had seen them rescued by the dragon. But there was no way for the story to have reached the army yet, and they’d be marching on, oblivious. Chances were the first time they’d get any idea that dragons still existed was when they spotted one soaring high above them in the Southern Pass.

  They continued to fly, the dragon skillfully navigating the peaks on either side. The Southern Pass took days to travel on foot, and though the dragon flew fast, in order for Dela to be able to see anything in the Southern Pass, he’d been forced to slow down.

  The farther they crossed the Great Dividing Range, the colder it got. Even the heat from the dragon didn’t serve to keep the chill away, and she ran her hand over her head to discover ice crystals had formed like tiny snowflakes in her hair.