Dragons of Wild (Upon Dragon's Breath Trilogy Book 1)

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Dragons of Wild (Upon Dragon's Breath Trilogy Book 1) Page 14

by Ava Richardson


  The magician held the stone in his palm, passed one hand over the other. The stone vanished and in its place appeared a flower. “A yellow flower for a yellow-named girl. He glanced again at the scrap of cloth and murmured, “Amelia.”

  Bower stepped up to my side, frowning and pushing a little between me and the magician. “What’s going on? Is this man threatening you?”

  As if I could not take care of a threat. I gave Bower a stare. I don’t know what was funnier—the idea that an old man could be a danger to me or that Bower might rescue me when he’d been unable to take care of himself in the woods. I shook my head and jabbed an elbow into Bower’s side. He was going to offend the magician for a certainty. “Bower, show some respect. This man has magic.”

  “Bower, you say?” The man squinted at Bower, his white-filmed eyes seeing something perhaps that normal eyes could not.

  “Saffron, I don’t like this,” Bower muttered. “I glimpsed Vic in the theater and the entertainment is about to end. We must be ready to leave.” Leaning close, he whispered, “This old man cannot be like you.”

  “The girl has paid for my services, Bower of House Daris!” the magician said, his voice suddenly grave and loud.

  Bower glanced around us and his frown deepened, pulling lines to his forehead.

  “He knows your real name, and he made my rocks vanish.”

  Bower crossed his arms over his chest. And half the city has heard about House Daris—a wild guess means nothing.”

  “Do not be alarmed, Bower of House Daris.” The old magician stood taller now. His voice deepened. The gray in his beard turned white in the lights and his eyes almost seemed to clear. To my eyes, he looked ten years younger. He really was a magician—this proved it. He gave bower a smile. “Your identity is safe with me. The girl has paid for me to find her parents, and I will do so. I have a name to work with so let the hunt begin. But I need somewhere quiet to work the most sensitive of spells. You have a mansion nearby…with a library.”

  Bower dropped his arms to his side. His eyes narrowed. “More guesses. And why should I take you to House Daris? So you might rob it of what little is left?”

  I pressed my lips tight and wanted to punch Bower, but the magician nodded and said, “Of course, m’lord. I understand your concerns. We live in dangerous times and one cannot be too careful. But I can offer you proof of my skills.”

  He thrust his arms wide and his staff seemed to glow. His cloak fell back and a sudden puff of black feathers showered to the ground as if he had shrugged them off his skin. His cloak shimmered in a deep, scintillating red, almost like dragon scales.

  I gasped and clapped a hand over my mouth.

  Bower did not seem so easily pleased. He shook his head and gave a snort. “You’ll have to do a lot better than that. You could have secret panels in your cloak and strings attached to your wrists or fingers to pull them.”

  “Bower,” I hissed the word at him. If he wasn’t careful, he would offend the magician and I would lose this chance to find my family. I glanced at the magician.

  He didn’t seem insulted by Bower’s doubts. He lifted his chin and stroked his now white beard. “Then I shall show you another of my skills.” He pulled a plain, silver ring from what seemed to be out of the air. A simple square had been carved into the metal. “This is the Adamant Ring. It has the ability to freeze a man solid and leave him unable to move. Do you dare try it?”

  Bower huffed out a breath. “We have no time for this nonsense. Saffron, come on—we’re going…”

  “I’ll try it,” I said. My stomach ached with the need to prove to Bower this man was what he said he was. I had to have his help—and Bower had to know that, too.

  “You are indeed a brave girl.” The magician dropped the silver ring onto my outstretched palm. I slipped it onto one finger. It fit snugly and seemed cold to me. It didn’t feel magical to me—I could sense nothing from it. Even Jaydra snuffled at it and turned her nose away as if uninterested.

  Tipping my head to one side, I asked, “Are you sure this is working?”

  “I haven’t said the magic words yet, child.” He raised his staff and passed one end over my fingers, muttering strange words I couldn’t understand. I didn’t feel any wave of power. Bower’s eyebrows lifted high. I shrugged.

  “Only I know the command to activate the ring’s powers.” The magician pointed to a nearby metal railing that seemed meant to keep anyone from walking across the grass. “Grab that with your free hand.”

  I did so. The ring clicked against the railing and the metal felt scratchy and cool on my skin. A lump lodged in my throat. Was Bower right—was this just an old man who knew a few tricks?

  The magician lifted his staff again and muttered something.

  Growing tired of this, I tried to pull my away, but something had stuck my fingers to the railing. It held me fast. My fingers tingled as did the ring.

  Den-sister? Jaydra sent me her worry. I thought to her, Doesn’t hurt, just feels tingly. “She’s hardly frozen. And I’ve seen suggestion work like this before,” Bower growled.

  The magician shook his head, and touched my hand with the tip of his staff. A sharp jolt of energy spread over my skin. I pulled my hand off the railing. My heart was racing. I flexed my fingers and gave the ring back to the magician. But how I wished I could keep it to study its power.

  “Please, great magician, tell me where to find my parents!”

  “Of course, child. But as I said, I need space and quiet to work my spells of finding.”

  I turned to Bower stepped between me and the magician. He grabbed the ring from the magician’s hand. “Try now to make me freeze? Can you do so without my touching metal? Can you? Saffron wasn’t frozen.”

  I tugged at Bower’s hand to get him to give back the ring. “What under the skies are you doing?”

  “Magnetism,” Bower said. “That was how you did it—magnetism.” Bower pushed the ring back into the magician’s hand. “I’ve read of such a thing—how metal can be made to stick to metal. It was once something used to make a compass work, and the dra—and riders used it. It is forbidden as are all the sciences from the old days.”

  The magician stepped back. He turned to me. “If that is how you feel, I will leave. Magic cannot work where there is no faith.”

  He turned and strode away from us, vanishing into the crowd now stepping from one of the huge buildings that surrounded the grassy square.

  I turned and thumped a fist into Bower’s chest. “Look what you’ve done! I’ve lost my chance to find my family.”

  Bower shook his head. “I am so sorry, Saffron. He was not a real magician. But he made my stones disappear. He knew your real, full name. He stuck my hand to the railings.” A hollowness formed in the pit of my stomach. What if Bower was right? But he could not be. Magic was real.

  Bower waved a hand. “There are rare metals that fell to earth from the skies and have been thrown out of ancient volcanoes. They attract other metals. By using the right combination of metals, you can make metals stick to each other or repel.”

  “It sounds like magic to me,” I muttered. I was angry with Bower. I wanted to run after the magician, but I was certain that Bower had insulted him so much that he would never help me.

  The cloth with the name Amelia had fluttered to the ground. Bending down, I grabbed it up and pushed it back into my pouch, could I still smell the hint of lavender.

  “I really am sorry,” Bower said

  Turning away from him, I stuffed my cloth back into my pouch. “I don’t want to talk about it. Now where is this friend of yours?”

  We didn’t have to wait long before a young man with curly hair, a narrow long face and in a fine tunic made of soft fabric and fine black breeches strolled over to where we were waiting. He saw us and one hand dropped to the short sword he wore at his hip.

  Saffron? Jaydra gave a low nicker. I could feel her tense. Putting a hand on my knife hilt, I stiffened, ready to defend us shou
ld I have to.

  Bower stepped from the shadows. “Vic, it’s me. Don’t be a fool.”

  “Daris?” He glanced around us and waved us toward a waiting carriage. “Get in. Quick before anyone see you with me.”

  I stood my ground. “What of my horse?”

  The youth—Vic—glanced at me. He shook his head. “Tie it to the back.”

  Den-sister? Jaydra sent me a warning dislike of this Vic.

  Be calm, Jaydra. This is Bower’s friend. Follow us.

  She gave a loud, not-very-horse-like snort. Vic turned away to talk to a man who had to be his driver, for the man had already mounted to the top seat and was focused on steadying the nervous horses. They weren’t too pleased to have a strange, giant horse stepping up so close to them.

  Bower helped me into the carriage—it had steps, unlike any wagon I’d seen, and inside fabric covered the benches, making them soft. It even smelled good—like leather and soap.

  Vic climbed in after us, slammed the door and clasped Bower’s arms. “You look a Gypsy,” Vic said and grinned. I thought they looked complete opposites with Vic in fine garments of black and Bower in a simple tunic, breeches and boots and his turban. Vic wore no hat, but jewels glinted at his throat and on his fingers.

  “Bower, you’ve grown some muscles.” Vic smiled, but his good humor didn’t reach his eyes.

  Leaning back against the soft seat, I crossed my arms. Right now I wasn’t happy with Bower or his friend.

  Voice low and urgent, Bower said, “We really need your help.”

  Vic turned to look at me in a way that made my skin crawl. I had only seen the oldest and wildest dragons ever look at me like that before they remembered I was actually a den-sister and not prey. “Who is this lovely vision, Bower?”

  Disgust swirled up in my stomach, knotting it. Jaydra’s rising anger bled into my mind as she sensed my own annoyance.

  “This is… Lady Saffron,” Bower said.

  Eyebrows pulled tight, I shot Bower a sideways look. What did he think he was doing, naming me a lady?

  Vic’s smile widened. “What House do you hail from? None of the older families, I am sure or else I would remember meeting such a charming lady.”

  I clenched a fist and resisted the urge to put it into action. Chin lifting, I told him, “I hail from the Western Isles.” There, that wasn’t a lie. Weren’t the dragons the oldest creatures on the islands. And the noblest.

  Fluttering a silk kerchief to his mouth as if to wipe away his widening smile, Vic said, “I never knew there were any…good families that far west.”

  Bower interrupted with an impatient wave of his hand. “There’ll be time to work out lineages later. For now, we need something to eat and a place to stay.”

  For a moment, Vic kept staring at me. I stared back, giving him my fierce glare.

  Vic was the one to break away, turning to Bower. “Of course I’ll do everything in my power to help you, but you have to help yourself as well. You don’t realize how difficult things have become. The king has called for your head. House Daris is finished. I have no idea what good I can do for you. And you could not have appeared at a worse time. Torvald is teaming with Iron Guard as the king readies for his great fair to celebrate his reign.”

  Bower frowned. “A fair? King Enric’s never held such a thing before. Why now?”

  Waving a hand, Vic said, “The proclamation that went out simply said the king expects to usher in a new epoch—and will celebrate a new safety and security for the realm.”

  Bower’s mouth pulled down even more. He shook his head once and said in a tight voice, “That does not sound promising to me, but just get us past the Iron Guards who may be guarding the streets around House Daris.”

  Face going pale, Vic clenched his silk scarf in one hand. “I was going that way anyway. But…well, I supposed I could take you to the old park, just behind your house. But what if there are guards?”

  Leaning back in his seat, Bower glanced out the window. “I can find a way in.” He glanced at me and smiled. “I told you I would get you into the city. Now Vic will get us to House Daris and we’ll find food, rest, and what you need.”

  I forced a stiff smile and I could not help but wonder if Bower’s friend’s help might have a hidden cost.

  11

  The Painting

  I wasn’t sure I could trust Vic to be honest, but a phrase I had read floated up in memory—I don’t have to trust him, I just have to trust him to be him. The one thing Vic would hate is any fuss caused by him calling on Iron Guard. Vic would not want the responsibility.

  He was also obviously a bit taken with Saffron. That annoyed me, but it was something to our advantage. Besides, Saffron could look after herself. It was a little sad that Saffron—someone I barely knew—could prove more trustworthy than could someone I had known since childhood.

  Vic had his carriage take the lanes around the back that led to the park behind House Daris. He seemed torn between wanting to remain near Saffron and wanting put as much distance between himself and me as he could. Caution won out over his interest in Saffron, for he stayed in the carriage, doing nothing more than handing Saffron from the coach with a gallant smile and a promise that he would be pleased to show her all the best parts of Torvald. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to avoid telling Vic not to be such a ninny and that Saffron could manage better without him. I feared we were both better off without the little help he was offering.

  His carriage moved off, leaving Saffron and I standing under a large sycamore tree that was starting to shed its leaves. Below us in the lower tiers of Torvald, lanterns gleamed and around us this neighborhood seemed quite with only the sound of a dog barking in the distance. I had mixed feelings about being so close to home again—I had left never expecting to return, and now my muscles seemed knotted with tension for fear of the Iron Guard being on watch and a reluctance to see what had happened to House Daris.

  “These are all your houses?” Saffron asked. She spun around in a slow circle and then leaned her shoulder against Jaydra.

  I managed a small smile. “No, this is a neighborhood of mansions, most of which have fallen on hard times like House Daris. Either the noble families that had once lived in them have moved or died out. House Daris stands at the end of the avenue.” I pointed to the old family house, but didn’t move. Was that a shadow by the front gate, under the decorative portcullis or a guard?

  “There’s someone there,” Saffron said, her voice low. Laying a hand on my arm, she nodded at the front gate. I sucked in a sharp breath and let it out. I thought everyone in the city must hear it. A match flared and lit the face of a guard. He lit a pipe and doused the match, falling again back into shadow.

  “How did you know he was there?” I whispered to Saffron.

  She shrugged and glanced at Jaydra, as if the horse-dragon had told her someone stood watch in the darkness.

  “How do we get in?” Saffron asked. She glanced at Jaydra. “And no, we are not flying up to the roof—that’s going to get us noticed for a certainty.”

  I started to tell her I was not going to suggest flying, but maybe the dragon really had thought up that idea. I told Saffron, “My house—if I can really claim it to be mine still—is made of stone, with a wall that’s overhung by the trees. The garden stretches into the park. There’s a place where ivy vines are thick and lead up to the trees. We can climb over the wall and then slip in an upstairs window.” I glanced at Jaydra. “I don’t think your horse can climb—but can she stand watch for us?”

  “Do you have stables?”

  I nodded. “They’ve not been in use in years, but they’re still standing and you can slip into them from the park.”

  Saffron nodded and swapped stares with Jaydra.

  Jaydra snorted, tossed her head, but followed us as we headed for House Daris. The horse-dragon trotted into the shadows behind my house that led to the stables, almost seeming to disappear.

  Saffron shot me a qu
ick grin. “She’ll use her own tricks so as not to be seen. One of the few good things about the fact that this city doesn’t believe in dragons is that it makes it easier for us to hide.”

  We walked over to the back of my house.

  Seeing it again stirred an uncomfortable sense of within me, as if my skin no longer fit me.

  After seeing Jakson, I had started to remember my old life—and it had felt right to help those people down there in Monger’s Lane. This city wasn’t a bad or an evil place. Deep down it was like what Saffron had talked about…. A den…a family. But now, staring up at the walls to a house that was no longer my home I realized this was no longer my den. I would never be welcome here again. I was starting to think that my earlier idealism to try and make a difference within my city was just a childish dream. We climbed the ivy with ease—I had done this for many years as a boy and the actions brought back memories of better days when my parents had still been alive and the world seemed a simple place. Reaching the top of the wall and the trees, I motioned for Saffron to follow me. She made a face at me as if I was asking the obvious. Up we went, on thick, oak branches. The trees shivered a little, but we reached the top floor and the window with the latch that never fully caught. But I had no need to try and open it. The little window was smashed and broken open. It made it easy for me to climb in, heaving myself over the sill and slip inside.

  I’d had a worry that the servants might still occupy the house—or guards might be inside. I need not have feared such a thing. The house had been wrecked.

  Glancing around the room, my heart stuttered and anger swelled in my chest. What few furnishings had been here had been smashed—not even taken for use elsewhere but hacked to bits. The statues that had been too large to move and sell lay as rubble scattered across the floors, which looked scarred by metal boots. With a tightness in my chest, I made for the library, trying not to see the destruction around me.

  In the library, moonlight flooded the room through holes punched in the roof. The room wasn’t just ruined by rain that had gotten in, it had been deliberately destroyed.

 

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