SPARK
Book #1
CLAN OF DRAGONS
by
Nancy Lee Badger
Copyright © August 2016
by Nancy Lee Badger
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system-except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the Web without permission in writing from the publisher.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. AMZ
Cover illustration copyright © 2016
by Nancy Lee Badger
All rights reserved.
DEDICATION
When a writer’s love for Scotland tangles with her imagination, a book about dragon-shifters is the result. I want to dedicate this book to my readers who have enjoyed my previous books with dragons filling the pages. They have asked for more. Sorry it has taken a few years, but the Clan of Dragons series is finally here!
THE STORY
Nancy Lee Badger brings you another story filled with Scottish dragons and shape-shifters. She again fills her paranormal fantasy with romance and danger, and with characters you will remember. Some will tug at your heart. Others will make you wish for their demise. SPARK is the first book in a brand new series, Clan of Dragons.
What can a young dragon do to prove to his older brothers that he is their clan’s best chance to save their species? In the Black Cuillin Hills, on Scotland’s Isle of Skye, Evan heads to the village of Morbhan to find a way to interact with humans. To learn their language and customs, and to get close enough to a red-haired beauty to mate with her, the brown-winged purple dragon shifts into a copper-colored horse. When his new hooves protect her from Lord Toal MacMorgan’s inappropriate demands with a well-placed kick, she thanks Evan by brushing his silky coat. Things are looking up.
When an unfamiliar horse kicks Toal into the creek, releasing Vika from his roaming hands, her appreciation turns to horror. A sputtering Toal demands that the animal die. Anger makes Vika agree to a wager. A three day hunt will determine the fate of the horse she names Spark. Failure will mean his death, and the loss of her freedom. Pirates, wolves, a wild boar, and a handsome stranger lead her on a wild ride. She discovers her heart is in as much danger as her life.
Table of Contents
DEDICATION
THE STORY
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
EPILOGUE
FREE EXCERPT
SMOKE-CHAPTER 1
ACKNOWLEGMENTS
AUTHOR NOTES
Author Bio
Connect with
CHAPTER 1
Evan stared into the heavens while a gust of bitter wind ruffled the scales along his tail. The morning sun was making its way slowly upward, forcing the stars to disappear, while a heavy fog hid the earth, far below his perch. A heaviness filled his scale-covered chest, as well, because the news hurt. The future of their kind was in jeopardy.
Days earlier, Cliona had died. When in the form of a red doe, a human hunter had brought her down with his deadly arrow, ending Dougal’s chance at happiness. Dougal and Cliona were lovers, and his oldest brother had only recently realized that she carried their unborn dragon offspring.
Two lives lost.
Two very important lives.
Cliona was the last breeding female of their kind, and their offspring would have meant that the dragon clan of the Scottish island of Skye would endure.
From a peak somewhere above Evan, Dougal roared. The deep mournful howl reminded him of rolling thunder, which was probably what villagers would assume caused the sound. Evan and his remaining brothers hid from humans in the stony perches of Skye’s Black Cuillin Hills. They lived in caves beneath the sharp peaks that rose west of the Scottish Highlands surrounded by the sea, and across the narrow channel of the bay. The hills were home for more years than Evan could recall. Their numbers had dwindled due to the weather, accidents, and the occasional hunter. To his knowledge, no humans knew they shared this area of Skye, but they crossed paths when in their other forms.
The freedom to shape-shift into forest animals meant a lot to his brothers. Dougal enjoyed shifting into a red stag, and running free though the trees and meadows. Wynn was partial to wolves, whose numbers had decreased as steadily as their dragon clan. Their environment was changing too fast, and dragons faced an uneasy future. “We be on the brink of extinction.”
As Dougal landed beside him, his talons scraped along the bare rock surface, and the mountain shook. Large pebbles rained down on their middle brother, Wynn, who growled but did not move from his lower perch. Dougal sighed, and Evan kept silent. Letting his brother talk first was safer. Dougal’s eyes glowed like angry flames, as red as his scales. His mood was as black as the wings he slowly folded over his back. Dougal’s newfound hatred toward humans was teetering on all-out war. Evan didn’t feel he was in the wrong, but talking with his brother while Dougal was in pain was dangerous.
Below them, Wynn shook dirt and rock from his folded white wings. His green scales usually melded with the nearby forests and meadows, but stood out on the black cliffs and rocky summits. The fog would keep them safe from prying eyes for a while longer. Evan was just as bright against the hills, with his purple-tinged scales. To help hide from humans on infrequent sunnier days, he clasped his brown wings around his body, making him blend in with the treeless crag.
As the sun rose higher in the sky, his brother’s silence was scarier than waiting for him to start a conversation, so he jumped. Landing with a thud beside Wynn, he furled his wings once more, gazed up at Dougal, then nudged his brother’s shoulder.
“Evan, keep quiet,” Wynn whispered, as he glanced up at Dougal. “What ails our brother today? Cliona died days ago.”
“Dougal be inconsolable. Cliona’s meaningless death has filled him with guilt. He says her death be all his fault because he neglected to warn her of the approaching hunting party. When they headed to their cave to sleep, a storm was brewing. If he had not decided to sleep late, he would have gathered their breakfast and fed her in the safety of their cave. He had no idea she wished to run through the rain in her deer form.”
“I can understand why he feels like he does, but she must have seen the signs. Even if she had not heard their approach, she should have smelled the humans.”
“Aye, they have their own unique odor.”
“For that reason, the blame be on her, but I will not confront Dougal with that. He would gain nothing from a negative opinion from the likes of me.”
Evan nodded in silent agreement.
Wynn spoke the truth. The sky was brightening, as the sun climbed higher in the east, over the mainland. Its rays turned the morning dew into sparkling gems that littered the nearby peaks. He glanced up at Dougal again.
“Our brother’s once deep red scales have turned du
ll and lifeless.”
“This I noticed, little brother, when he rained broken rocks upon me head.”
Evan snorted. Light gray smoke drifted from his nostrils, and his brother coughed, making Evan chuckle. “When I came out to hunt at nightfall, he had wrapped his black wings and tail so tightly around him, I nearly missed spotting him on the peak. When I feared his mood was as black as his wings, I sped into the forest, to the west.”
“Did you catch anything worth sharing?”
His brother’s stomach growled. “Nay, Wynn. The forests around the village be empty, and I did not wish to venture farther, not when Dougal be in such a state.”
“What can we do?”
“About what?”
“Evan, what shall we do about getting Dougal a mate?”
Evan sighed, and rubbed his aching left thigh with his snout. It seemed a lifetime ago when a flaming bolt of lightning had scorched his scales, narrowly missing vital organs. Before it had marked him, he had spent the cloudy afternoon in pursuit of a lovely young dragon, only to watch the same bolt of lightning kill her, and turn her into so much ash. The scar lingered, and throbbed whenever rain headed their way.
He shoved aside the pain-filled memories. Instead, he turned to gaze at his brother, Wynn, the middle dragon. His green eyes had clouded, and his green scales had dulled, though the sun shone down upon them both.
“We have searched for years. There be no more female dragons within a day’s flight of our den. What can we do?” Wynn flicked a raven from his right wing. The bird screeched, and flew away.
“Fly farther inland? Or, across the sea? Mayhap there be some on one of the other western isles. Or, east, to the Highlands? Rumors abound of a creature looming beneath the surface of Loch Ness.”
“Be you daft, brother? A swimming dragon? I have never wanted to dive into a lake, or the sea. ‘Tis not natural. And during this search, far and wide, what happens if you do not find a mountain crag, or dark cave in which to sleep? What if humans spy you flying overhead? There be clouds, this day, but the sun grows bright, and the sea breeze shall push them away. With no clouds or fog to cloak you, humans might discover they be not alone on this island.”
“Aye, Wynn. Whenever I fly farther inland, I never see fog. Mayhap it only exists near these cliffs, and the sea. I do not wish to leave the Cuillin Hills, but the elders spoke of other ways to make certain our clan survives.”
“And they said these words of wisdom before they died, without leaving us a clue as how to accomplish this great plan.”
“That we be the last of our kind be sad, but I propose to end this,” Evan said. He wasn’t sure his brother believed him, but he was old enough to finally gain their respect. After he took on the task of finding them all mates, they would not look at him as their little brother.
“How can we end this problem? We be facing annihilation. Shall I head inland with you?”
“Nay. Someone ought to stay with Dougal.”
Wynn nodded, and glanced back at Dougal. “With Cliona gone, I fear he does not wish to live.”
With his massive red head tucked beneath a wing, their brother appeared asleep, which was a blessing. Evan clenched his talons in frustration. Clumps of black basalt tumbled toward the valley floor, but the heavy mist hid their progress. “I shall go alone. Promise me you shall stay and keep an eye on him?”
Wynn spread his wings, soaking up the sunlight, and drying the thin membrane. He flicked his tail, and stretched. Evan followed, mimicking his brother by stretching to his full height. This simple exercise was liberating after a night spent hunting unsuccessfully, while worrying about their older brother.
“Where exactly do you plan to go?”
“Listen, Wynn, I propose to scout the nearest human village. Mating and procreating be something every life form needs to survive, aye?”
“I suppose you speak the truth. What will you do in the village? Dougal always demands we keep our distance.”
“I shall learn their ways, language, and customs. I shall shift into a human, and mate with one of their females.”
Wynn gagged.
“Brother, ‘tis the only way to see if we can create another generation of dragon-shifters.”
“Mate with a human!” A voice, more a barked growl, thundered from above Evan and Wynn’s heads. As he landed beside them, their older brother’s wings blocked the sun. Their mountain perch shook, and huge boulders tumbled through the mist to the unseen valley floor.
“I hate the humans. They killed me mate!” As Dougal stepped closer, a blast of red-orange flame shot toward Evan, but he held his ground.
The smell of his singed purple scales wafted up, but he knew Dougal was the one in pain. Evan nodded at Dougal, and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I understand this, and I be filled with sorrow for your loss, but our future be in peril. We be the last of our kind, I fear.”
“Take care where your allegiance lies, brother. The humans will die by these talons.”
Evan stepped closer to Dougal. The anger visible in his brother’s snarling maw might waylay his plans to investigate the humans. “Nay, not until we discover if we can put them to good use.”
“I heard you speak of mating with them. Be you daft? They smell bad and taste worse.”
“You have eaten one of their kind?”
Dougal flapped his black wings, then curled them around his belly, as if recalling tasting something vile. “Aye. Once, when fishing far out to sea, I spied two males clinging to an overturned vessel. I kept me distance, but watched as a huge shark pulled one beneath the waves. The other screamed and screamed, and I put him out of his misery. Do not shun me. I killed him with me talons quickly, then ate him. The toothy fish ate his companion alive.”
“You will have to accept that I want to try and see if we can live beside them,” Evan said.
Wynn snorted, and a tendril of green smoke escaped his left nostril.
“Not helping, Wynn,” Evan said.
“Listen, young one, how can you think to interact with a species when you don’t understand their language, let alone their customs?” Dougal asked.
“I have a plan. I shall shift into a creature they deal with every day. I will listen and learn.”
“A creature? Hmm,” Wynn said, and scratched his left ear with his talons. “Don’t become a cow. They get milked twice a day, and I do not believe you will enjoy that.”
“Not if they yank on his udders. If he shifted into a bull and they touched him down there, well…”
“No one goes near the bulls, and a cow does not have…that, so I will not change into either.” Evan shivered at the thought.
“Goats, sheep, and chickens be no good. The humans have a habit of slaughtering one or the other, then roasting it for their supper.”
“How about a dog?”
“They have very few because they be used to hunt wild boar, a fearsome creature that be quite plentiful around the village of which you speak. Feral boars often take one or two dogs down with them. Besides, the mangy beasts get kicked a lot.”
Evan looked at his brothers, and bared his teeth. He was growing disgusted with their unhelpful attitude. Releasing a heated, acrid burst of sparks and flames, he silently vowed not to say another word. Not until one of them said something useful.
“If you insist on this foolish venture, I suggest we fly down into the forest and watch from the trees. If Evan wants to become one of these humans, possibly saving our species, we should help. Do you not agree, big brother?” Wynn glanced at Dougal.
Evan glanced at neither. His lids drooped, until his eyes closed. He prayed all would be well, and that Dougal would help them in their quest. If Dougal agreed to help, it might keep the older dragon’s mind off Cliona’s death.
“Aye, lads, ‘tis a good idea. I have no love for humans, but wolves be dying out, and there be less and less red deer roaming the island. Humans continue to populate the hills, valleys, and even the oceans, though sharks be their
adversaries in that venue. I’ve heard tales of mythical selkies, the shape-shifters that like to walk the shore, though I’ve never spotted one. Whales seem plenty, along with seal and otter, but they do not hunt the humans.”
“We, and the humans, hunt them,” Evan said, and smacked his lips. He loved fish for dinner.
Dougal nodded. “Aye, we hunted humans centuries ago, but no longer. These humans have gained strength, cunning, and agility. Strong creatures, they be, since their numbers grow. They could be the only creatures hardy enough to bear our young.” His voice broke.
Evan opened his eyes and glanced at his older brother. Dougal had covered his head with his black wings, again. Wynn’s maw twisted from a slight smile into a frown. His upper fangs glistened. Were those tears dampening his cheeks?
Evan’s tongue flicked out, and he caught the scent of wolves. They didn’t bother him, but sensing them somewhere between their cave, and the village, was peculiar. Wolves on the Island of Skye usually kept inland and to the north, but sometimes they would venture into the open meadows where the human’s flocks of sheep and goats grazed.
Unfurling his wings, Evan arched his back. He flapped the thin leathery membranes, and the sun turned their normally muddy brown into the color of melted copper. He gazed at his older brothers. “I propose we head to the village, land in the forest, and watch the villagers go about their day. An idea will spark inside of me, and I shall begin me quest for a mate.”
Dougal said nothing, but nodded his huge, red-scaled head. Wynn sighed, and unfurled his snowy wings in silent agreement. They acted like they doubted he could accomplish such a feat.
Evan jumped into the air. As his wings snapped and propelled him into the morning sky, Wynn followed him. He did not look back to see if Dougal followed them. He had faith in his oldest brother to do the right thing.
Although one future had died with Cliona and her unborn bairn, Dougal was still a young two hundred and thirty-eight years, and strong. He was a mighty warrior, and he would come around, should their experiment bear fruit.
Spark (Clan of Dragons Book 1) Page 1
