by Cyle Young
Merrileen the Reef Rider
Cyle Young
A3 Publishing
Contents
Glossary:
Map of Keth
1. Get caught doing good. Corol Proverb
2. Hidden wisdom has no worth.
3. Nobility breeds contempt.
4. A good lamb never wanders far from the shepherd, and a good shepherd never wanders far from the lamb.
5. The sword only strikes clean from a skilled hand.
6. Hate fills the caverns of an empty man’s soul.
Bonus First Chapter:
About the Author
Announcement:
Also by Cyle Young
Copyright © 2016 by Cyle Young
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For Patricia,
Glossary:
Aken: Olvish word of love and respect. Taught to draka as a launch command.
Bagh Nakh: Claw-like weapon concealed in the palm of the hand. It attaches over the fingers.
Battleflight: Aerial combat while riding a draka.
Cift: Term for a draka rider and his draka.
Coraq: Term for half-human, half-corol offspring.
Draka: The small offspring of one of the Ancient dragons of Ol.
Drakaback: Riding aboard a draka.
Drakruach: Draka breath. The weapon(s) a draka has to defend or attack with. The breath emanates from the draka’s mouth in a cone or line. Each draka type has two distinct drakruach. After one use, the draka must rest for an extended period of time before using its drakruach again.
Durban: Site of the waveschool and capitol of the Northern Reaches.
Favored Sons: Humans in Nod, chosen offspring of Ol.
Horn dale: Prosperous port city on Keth’s Western coast.
Ictus: Corol word meaning “shock”.
Kak: Insult meaning “jerk”.
Kelldonia: Free city state off the Western coast of Keth.
Keth: One of the human kingdoms in Nod.
Nod: The planet.
North Wing Army: Draka army of the Northern Reaches made up of all eight draka types and numbering around 1500 cifts.
Ol: The god and creator of the universe.
Pterasor: Agile winged dynosars. It resembles a pterodactyl, but can be ridden by humanoid races.
Ramulus: Corol word meaning “splash”.
Map of Keth
1
Get caught doing good. Corol Proverb
Corol Proverb
“Gilly, gilly!” A chorus of chants erupted from the beggar children of Horndale.
Merrileen tugged at the tip of her hood, sinking her head deeper into the shadow beneath. She squeezed the bagh nakh in her palm. The dull backsides of the claw-like blades dug into the underside of her slightly webbed fingers.
“Ignore them, Merr.” Her father pushed his body in between her and the aggravators. He intercepted the next insult with a threatening wave of his hand. With a reassuring touch to her lower back, he escorted her through the agitated crowd.
She could shut them up. One quick strike with her concealed weapon would send them scattering like a school of yellowtail from a diver. A single rake from the bagh nakh would leave a scar none would forget.
Her stomach twisted at the thought.
Mother had raised her better. The Corol weren’t a violent race, but then again, she was only half like them.
She could thank her Favored Son father and Corol mother for making her a half-breed. A Coraq, or gilly, as the mainland children so kindly reminded her.
Her pale blue skin and small neck gills were far from inconspicuous. She was nothing but an illegitimate outcast from both the haughty Corol nobility and here amongst the contemptible Favored Sons.
For the last few cycles, father had forced her to accompany him on each of his trips to Kethian lands. She hated every minute of the tortuous experiences. But even though she would cry, he’d still insisted. With firm resolve, he’d said the trips would allow her to develop skin like a whale. At first Merrileen had wondered if he’d wanted her to gain weight, but repeated conversation brought more clarity. Father desired for her to live a normal life, which meant being able to deal with insults and injury from less enlightened peoples and race.
But their insensitive comments still hurt.
Over the cycles Merrileen had grown better at shrugging off the affronts. Why did they have to make fun of her for being different? Back home she wasn’t looked down upon. She was unique. Special. And on her island home of outcasts, no one would ever allow anyone to be treated like this.
But Kelldonia wasn’t like Horndale.
In fact, Kelldonia wasn’t like any other place in all of Nod. Folks of all races and creeds had found refuge in the free city-state. Life on the volcanic isle wasn’t without it’s difficulties, but her sixteen cycles had been relatively judgment free. Everyone was accepted. And not just the meek races of Dwarol, Olves, and Corol, but the militaristic Favored Sons were accepted right alongside some of the more savage Bogrin, Gobbin, and Orckin.
People accepted each other on Kelldonia. No king ruled, and no ruling class sat above any other race. Everyone was equal. If any problems arose between two individuals, an elected tribunal was organized to arbitrate the disagreement. The simple process worked, but she doubted any of these mainlanders would accept such progressive equality.
The Kethian people were too judgmental and vile.
How her father could share the same blood as these animals, yet still be so kind and loving, was a mystery. Maybe that’s why he left? Or at least partially.
Father always told her he’d left Keth because of mother. A chance meeting on the docks had changed everything for both of them. If mother hadn’t been so clumsy on land they’d never have met. She always said that it was fate that brought them together. When she slipped and fell into the tanned arms of her savior, she wanted nothing else other than him. Her mother warned that no matter how romantic their running away together seemed, it also brought cycles of heartache and sorrow when their own families excommunicated them.
Merrileen didn’t care about what her extended family though about any subject. The story of her parent’s first encounter always brought a smile to her lips and a chill to her spine. She dreamed of finding that kind of love one day. Would she ever be so lucky to find a man that is willing to give up everything he’d ever known for the sake of their love?
She hoped so. But the fading gilly chants contorted her sly smile into a solid frown.
No one could ever love a half-breed.
At least she had Jux. She shared a special bond with her father’s reef draka. Father hadn’t believed her when she’d first told him she could feel Jux’s emotions. He’d never heard of such a thing. No drakarider had ever been able to feel his draka.
But Merrileen wasn’t a drakarider.
She knew how she’d felt. Father’s doubt didn’t deter her from proving him wrong. Over time he came to realize the unique connection she shared with the large winged animal. He didn’t understand it, but neither did she.
Father responded to the realization by letting her take Jux out for flights—all by herself. They’d never allow an untrained girl to ride solo on drakaback in Keth, or anywhere else for that matter.
But she was no normal girl.
Flying on drakaback made her feel alive. In all of her sixteen cycles, nothing ever brought her any happiness that compared. Her thoughts drifted from the torment of her present to memo
ries of soaring like a pelican looking for dinner—only a wings length above the crashing waves of the Western Sea. She imagined mist droplets spraying her wind swept cheeks as her sandy hair—a reminder of her favoredness—twirled in the wind behind her.
“Gilly.” A dark haired boy ambushed her. Standing before her, his eyes enflamed in disgust. Crooked yellow teeth poked through his mischievous grin.
Merrileen wiped her face. The wetness hadn’t been from her imagination of salt spray, but the spittle of the angry beggar boy.
She’d make him pay.
He should have stayed with the others. All shewanted was to get some food supplies for her kindred back home. If the boy hadn’t gotten the hint when father had interceded earlier, then she’d teach him a lesson with her bagh nakh. It wouldn’t kill him, but his face would never look the same.
But he deserved it.
Or at least she tried to convince herself that he did.
Merrileen readied to strike, but before she could lunge out, she doubled over in pain.
Had he hit her first?
That’s be just like a favored Son. Daydreaming had kept her from paying close attention. She should have struck him first. Initiating violence wasn’t in her nature, butjustice was. This boy needed to experience true evenhandedness, and she knew just the gilly who could teach him respect.
But as her stomach anguished, she struggled to stand up straight. Her breaths grew labored. She’d never been hit like that. Where did the boy hide all that strength?
“I didn’ do that.” Hands held out in front of him, the beggar boy backed away. The surprised look on his face agreed with his actions.
But if he didn’t hit her, who did?
Merrileen brought a hand to her face and coughed hard into it. She scanned the small street, but no one else stood within striking distance. It didn’t make sense. Someone must have attacked her.
She’d hoped to question the boy, but he’d already disappeared around the corner of a mudbrick building.
Coward.
Another blow to her abdomen sent Merrileen reeling. She collapsed down to one knee and the quick reaction of her free hand saved her lips from kissing the dusty street below.
“Merr, are you fit?” Father’s worried voice wavered.
The strong feeling had leached up into her chest, but it wasn’t pain. She hadn’t realized the sensation at first, but it was unmistakable now. An anxiety greater than she’d ever known overwhelmed her entire being. But the extreme emotion didn’t belong to her—it belonged to Jux.
Father’s muscular arm slid under her chest and pulled her to his side. He held her for a moment and repeated his question.
Merrileen nodded. She had never felt Jux’s emotions without touching him directly. But the reef draka was miles away.
Cycles ago, when father had deserted the North Wing Army to marry mother. He’d taken Jux with him, that act was a crime against the throne. If anyone discovered father or Jux, he’d be arrested on the spot. To ensure they could purchase supplies without any hassle, father had stashed the cobalt and pearl colored creature in a friendly farmer’s barn, a donkey’s ride up the coast. It had been hours since they’d last touched.
Her mind had to be playing tricks on her.
But when the third wave of emotion hit her, all doubt left her mind—danger.
They had to get back to the barn—now. Someone or something, maybe even Jux himself, was in grave danger.
Merrileen took a deep breath and swallowed hard. She mustered all of her strength and turned to look deep into her father’s emerald eyes. “Father, we must return to Jux.”
“We will, as soon as we buy the—”
“No.” Merrileen grasped his forearm and squeezed. Harder than she’d intended, but tight enough he’d get the point. “We need to go now.” She motioned to her stomach. “I can feel Jux. Something is very wrong.”
2
Hidden wisdom has no worth.
Corol Proverb
Every terrible thought Merrileen could imagine raced through her mind. Horrible possibilities flowed into her conscience, almost as fast as her feet carried her through the narrow streets of Horndale.
Had someone found Jux? Had her draka been captured? Or worse—had he been injured?
She’d never known Jux to have suffered any real injury. Father said the draka’s resilience was because of some leftover magic from the creation of the world.
Merrileen didn’t believe in that nonsense. Not a single person she’d ever met had ever seen any evidence of magic. Neither had she.
There was no such thing as magic.
She sprinted ahead of her father and the other Kelldonian men who traveled with them. She ducked under vendor awnings and dashed through the small gaps between people like a pickpocket running from his pursuers. She didn’t waste time looking for father. He’d catch up, eventually.
Mother had told her many a legend or tale about Ol, Ancient Dragons, and the paradise of Gahn. Sure, they were interesting stories for bedtime, but that’s all they were. No rational person would ever believe they were real. As a child, she’d mused about magic swords, powerful enchantments, and love potions. Now that she was older, she knew better.
But as the dull ache in her gut reminded her of Jux, she pondered an explanation. How could she feel him from so far away? The Corol people were attuned to creatures of the sea. They could sense the emotions or condition of a sea animal. Merrileen’s mother had awareness down to even the smallest of fish. But she didn’t share her mother’s affinity with the ocean—at least not until Jux. He was her first sense.
Flying on a routine supply run to the mainland, Merrileen had slipped her open palm up against the cool blue scales under Jux’s saddle. Almost instantly, the reef draka’s joy had washed over her from head to toe fins. The animal’s happiness pressed into her consciousness as they soared above the aquamarine waters below.
But that sensation was nothing like today. She wanted to vomit, but she knew she couldn’t. Merrileen had never been this unsettled before. Her own anxiety had never caused her body to feel this way. The intense reaction of her body to Jux’s current emotional state was one she would be glad to never experience again.
The crowd thinned when she reached the city gate. Not much further and she’d be at the hitching post to collect her donkey. She stole a look over her shoulder. Her father emerged from the gate not far behind.
Good, there’d be no delay.
Father had left Harold Fedsol to watch over their five gray donkeys they’d left a short walk down the main road that led west from the city. The boy, not much younger than her, was too quiet for her tastes. Maybe he was nervous around her, but he rarely spoke. Even though he was shy, he made a reliable servant.
Merrileen looked for the top of his shaggy head as she crested a small hill. She spotted him, but he wasn’t alone.
A broad chest hooded figure stood a full head and shoulders taller than him. An ivy-colored cloak draped over the man’s large build like cloth over a padded chair. Decorated metal greaves peeked beneath the low brim of the garment. She’d know them anywhere.
Xilgo?
What was he doing here?
Didn’t he know how dangerous it was for an Orckin in Keth? If a Kethian soldier or drakarider spotted him, he’d be captured or killed on the spot.
At least they’d try too.
Heaving breaths masked her weak attempt at a sly smile. Xilgo was a fierce fighter. Better than any Favored Son. They’d never take him alive.
But they shouldn’t even have the chance.
Then it hit her like a like an unseen wave. If Xilgo was here—then it wasn’t Jux that was in danger—it was Kelldonia.
3
Nobility breeds contempt.
Samaran Proverb
Father wasted no time. At the sight of Xilgo, their entire party saddled the donkeys without a word. Merrileen had already taken her place in the front of her father’s saddle. The donkey’s awkwar
d trot jostled them with each step.
“How bad is it?” Father’s voice rang in her ear as he’d shouted to Xilgo in obvious compensation to overcome the thundering hooves.
“Full siege.” Xilgo’s hood flapped loosely in the breeze. His coal hair bounced but never frayed, locked tight in its customary Orckin braid. A pointy ear protruded through the dark mass like a seashell in the black Kelldonian sands.
Father pressed. “Freemen? Pirates?” He paused before saying, “South Wing?”
Merrileen could almost hear the gulp in his throat as he expelled the last words. On more than one occasion father had share his fear of the South Wing Army coming to Kelldonia. Mother had often expressed the same nightmare. If it was the South Wing, father would be arrested and tried for desertion.
A death sentence.
Jux would be captured and returned to Durban. She couldn’t bear the thought of either one happening.
“Pirates.” Xilgo clasped his jaw. A determined crease traversed his brow. Two thumb-sized fangs running from his upper teeth-line guarded the edges of his chin.
Pirates they could handle.
A sigh of relief slipped from Merrileen and she released the white-knuckled grip she hadn’t realized squeezed hard on the saddle horn. Father had led them to victory over the homeless invaders many times. But surely Xilgo could have fended off the pirates too. The former Orckin warrior was father’s second in command of the Kelldonian militia. Together they defeated many a pirate. So, why did he have to come to Keth this time?
Father had the same question. “Pirates? Why did you come to Keth to gather me for Pirates?”
Xilgo’s normally pale green skin reddened across his face. “They have a dozen ships… and their leader is demanding our full surrender.”
