Immortal

by Nicole Conway

  “People are always afraid of change.” Julianna had a contemplative glint in her eyes as she stared at Jae’s statue. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean change is bad. Change is necessary, even if it frightens us. Without it, we would never grow.”

  “Maybe you should just give my coronation speech instead. You’re better with words than I am.”

  She swatted playfully at the back of my head. “Felix Farrow, don’t you dare try pushing your responsibilities off on m—”

  I stole another kiss before she could finish, making her blush and pout.

  For a long time, we stood together in the gardens of my family estate. We stared at the statues of Jaevid and Beckah, standing side-by-side against the backdrop of a gray sky. The winds picked up, and in the distance I could see the waves frothing and capping. There was a storm brewing, unusual for this time of year.

  “What do you suppose he meant?” Julianna was whispering again.

  “About what?”

  “About returning to us when we need him.” She turned to look at me with worry in her eyes.

  I didn’t want to tell her that I was concerned, too. After that encounter with Ulric … I was still rattled and trying to assure myself that you couldn’t put any faith in the ravings of a madman. Still, something about it sat wrong in my mind. And when I thought about Jaevid’s parting words, I was even more nervous. I still had absolutely no idea what he’d been talking about. I was restless at the thought that there might something else—something worse—coming our way.

  “Whatever he meant, there’s nothing we can do about it right now except continue to do everything we can to rebuild,” I replied. Reaching over, I took her hand in mine and held it firmly. “And as for Jaevid … I’ve decided to believe in him the way believed in me. He thought I could rule Maldobar and change things for the better. I think we haven’t seen the last of him. I think that if anything threatens this kingdom again, Jaevid is going to have something to say about it.”

  Julianna gave my hand a little squeeze. It hurt. I'd accidentally cut open one of my palms on that jagged black crystal that was set in the royal throne while battling that stupid pig. It still hurt, even if it was hardly more than a gnarled pink scar now. The soreness hadn't gone away.

  I could see a difference in the way Julianna regarded Jae’s statue, as though he baffled her. “It’s nearly impossible to believe what he could do. A timid, gentle, halfbreed boy from the gray elf ghetto?”

  Something caught my eye, a glimmer on the horizon reflecting the light from a break in the clouds. The shimmer of dragon scales. I couldn’t be sure from so far away, but I thought I recognized the familiar silhouette of a certain blue dragon—now free of his saddle—sailing proudly on the stormy winds.

  “No, not impossible,” I corrected her. “But definitely unexpected.”

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I’d like to express my deep gratitude for all my faithful (and incredibly patient) readers for supporting the series. I feel truly blessed to have been able to share Jaevid’s journey with you all!

  Also, thanks for not killing me for the cliffhangers.

  A special thank-you to my agent, Fran Black. I can’t thank her enough for all her hard work, guidance, and dedication. She’s a rock star!

  To Georgia McBride, thank you for taking a chance on my timid little halfbreed dragonrider, his blue dragon, and me. We are eternally grateful!

  A big thank you to my parents, grandparents, and family—but especially my loving husband. I had never had anyone support my love of writing as diligently as he has. From helping me with details and dialogue, to dropping everything to make sure I make it to signings and events, Keith Conway, you have made me fall in love with you all over again.

  NICOLE CONWAY

  Nicole Conway is the author of the children’s fantasy series, THE DRAGONRIDER CHRONICLES, about a young boy’s journey into manhood as he trains to become a dragonrider. Originally from a small town in North Alabama, Nicole moves frequently due to her husband’s career as a pilot for the United States Air Force. She received a B.A. in English from Auburn University, and will soon attend graduate school. She has previously worked as a freelance and graphic artist for promotional companies, but has now embraced writing as a full-time occupation.

  Nicole enjoys hiking, camping, shopping, cooking, and spending time with her family and friends. She lives at home with her husband, two cats, and dog.

  Introducing

  Savage

  Book 1 in

  The Dragonriders Legacy Series

  (unedited)

  Nicole Conway

  ONE

  The jungle was quiet, but my bare feet made a squishing sound on the damp moss that covered the enormous tree limbs. Everything was still dripping with cold dew. The first rays of morning sunlight bled through the canopy overhead, turning everything a surreal shade of green.

  I crept as quietly as I could, squeezing my bow tightly in my fist. My heart was pounding. I was already sweating.

  All of a sudden, a brightly colored parrot burst from the foliage and fluttered across my path. I lost my footing and wobbled, flailing my arms to regain my balance. My stomach lurched. I opened my mouth to yell.

  And then she grabbed my belt from behind.

  Enyo dragged me down into a squat. Together we watched the bird disappear into the distance. Then she shot me a hard look. Her eyes sparkled like aquamarines in the dim light.

  I scowled back at her. It wasn’t my fault. The stupid bird had come out of nowhere.

  I wrenched out of her grip and slung my bow over my shoulder, crawling down a steep turn in the limb and leaping over into the next tree. That was how you moved in Luntharda—scurrying from tree to tree like a squirrel. The ground wasn’t impassable, but it was extremely difficult terrain. Not to mention it was practically writhing with things that would have been happy to make a breakfast out of a pair of novice hunters who weren’t technically supposed to be this far away from the city.

  “This isn’t going to work, you know.” Enyo muttered as we scaled a network of vines, climbing higher and higher.

  I ignored her, but I couldn’t out run her. Even if I was taller, she was much faster. Together, we ran along the boughs, leaping, dodging, and climbing until I knew we had to be within earshot. I stopped first and Enyo skidded to a halt beside me. She was grinning wickedly.

  I was glancing around for the perfect spot right above the narrow, well-beaten trail that zigzagged through the underbrush below. Faundra left those trails when they moved between their favorite grazing spots.

  I found it—the exact, ideal spot where an overgrowth of giant lichen made a great place to hide. I slipped my bow off my shoulder and took out an arrow, making sure to check the fletching and the shaft for damage before I set it in the string.

  “Say you do actually kill one this time. Say we even manage to field dress it and get it back to the city. Do you really think Kiran is going to be okay with you running off without him?” Enyo whispered as she tucked herself into the lichen beside me. I could feel the heat off her skin when her arm brushed mine.

  “Well obviously if I did it without him, then I don’t need him in the first place, right? I’m not a kid anymore,” I growled under my breath. “He’s holding me back on purpose.”

  That was debatable, really. Gray elves went through puberty around fifteen. Their hair turned from black to white as freshly fallen snow, and their bodies matured. After that, they were considered adults and could choose a profession, get married, and basically do whatever they wanted. I was sixteen. I should have been treated like an adult, too.

  There was just one problem—I wasn’t a gray elf. And to make matters worse, my adoptive guardian, Kiran, didn’t want me trying to make my first kill yet. He didn’t want me going anywhere without his presence or permission. He treated me like a child.

  “Maybe because you never listen,” Enyo muttered under her breat
h. Maybe she thought I couldn’t hear her.

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Just shut up. Why did you even come?”

  She glared back. “Well if you die, someone should at least be able to explain what happened.”

  “Pfft,” I snorted and looked away. “Just stay out of my way.”

  Enyo pushed some of her long, coal black hair behind one of her pointed ears. “And stay here—I know, I know.”

  A twig snapped.

  Immediately, we both fell silent. My heart was pounding and my palms started to get sweaty. This was it, the chance I’d been waiting for.

  One by one they started emerging from the morning mist. The herd of faundra traveled quickly with their littlest fawns grouped in the center to shield them from predators. The does were as big as horses, some even seven feet tall, with their white pelts flecked with soft gray markings. They had long, powerful legs and one kick to the face would crush your skull like an egg. But they weren’t the ones you really had to watch out for.

  The stags were even bigger. Their shaggy pelts had stark black swirls and a blaze right down the front of their snout. Their heads were crowned with sweeping white antlers that had ten razor sharp points. You definitely did not want to be on the wrong end of those.

  “Beautiful,” I heard Enyo whisper faintly.

  I smirked.

  Then we saw him—the alpha male. He was bigger than the other members of his herd by far. He had a single black stripe that went from the end of his snout, down his back, all the way to his tail. He was older, so his pelt was thicker around his neck like a mane, and all the other black marks on his hide had faded away. His horns sloped back to almost touch ends with four extra points on each side.

  I was so excited I could barely breathe. When I drew my bow back, my hand wouldn’t stay still. It made my arrow point bounce all over the place.

  Enyo placed one of her hands on my back.

  I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to remember everything Kiran had taught me. I took a deep breath. I listened to the jungle. Then, slowly, I opened my eyes again and took aim straight for the alpha male’s heart. My hand was steady and my bowstring taut.

  All I had to do was let go.

  Something caught my eye. It was fast, like a flickering shadow darting through the underbrush.

  I got a bad, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that made all the tiny hairs on my arms and neck stand on end.

  Clenching my teeth, I tried to ignore it. I tried to fight it. But I couldn’t.

  The cold chill came over me, making my body jerk beyond my control. The bowstring slipped, and my arrow went flying. It zipped through the moist air, grazing leaves and lodging deep into the side of a doe. She bucked and bleated, sending the rest of the herd into a frenzy. They bolted in every direction, disappearing like ghosts into the jungle.

  But the doe I’d shot was badly wounded. I knew she couldn’t run far. Without thinking I ran for the trunk of the tree and started my descent, jumping down from branch to branch.

  “Reigh! Stop!” Enyo was screaming at me.

  I ignored her. There was no stopping now. When my feet finally struck the forest floor, I went to the spot where I’d shot her. There was blood on the ground and more droplets speckling the leaves and ferns, leading away into the undergrowth.

  Enyo seized my wrist suddenly. Her face was pale with fright. “We can’t be down here. It’s too dangerous.” Her whispering voice trembled.

  “I can’t just leave a kill lying out there,” I argued.

  “Something will have heard them,” she pleaded. “Something will smell the blood!”

  “Go back to the tree and wait for me, then.” I snatched my arm away from her and pointed. “I’m finishing this, with or without you.”

  Her expression faltered. She looked back at the tree, then to me, with her eyebrows crinkled and her mashed into a desperate line.

  “I said go!” I yelled.

  It startled her. She backed away a few steps, then turned to run.

  ***

  I tried not to think about all the rules I was breaking as I dove into the foliage, alone, to track down my kill. The blood trail wasn’t hard to find even among all the towering fronds and enormous leaves of the plants. I’d never stood on the jungle floor alone like this before. I felt insignificant, like a tiny insect, as I looked up at the giant trees. In fact, everything seemed bigger now that I was this close to it. The air seemed cooler, too. The canopy was so far away, like a distant sky of endless green leaves. It gave me chills.

  Or maybe that was just my problem acting up again.

  I crept through the undergrowth, traveling fast and trying to stay out of sight as I followed the blood trail. The drops were getting bigger and closer together. She was slowing down. It wouldn’t be long.

  And then I saw her.

  The doe was lying in the middle of a small clearing between two big ferns. She was motionless, but I could see her side rising and falling with the shaft of my arrow sticking straight. She was still alive.

  I quickly shouldered my bow and drew my hunting knife. As I got close to the edge of the clearing, I hesitated. I did a quick glance around, waiting to see if anything or anyone else was nearby.

  But everything was quiet. Everything was still.

  The doe bleated loudly when she saw me. Her legs kicked and her eyes looked around with wild anxiety. Standing over her, I could feel my hand beginning to shake again. I had to kill her. I had to end her suffering—preferably before she gave away my position to every dangerous predator in a five-mile radius.

  I put my knee over her snout to hold her head still. She was too weak to fight me off. Her milky brown eyes stared straight ahead as I drew back, ready to plunge my dagger into her heart.

  Then I heard it; a deep, heavy snort from the edge of the clearing. I looked up just in time to see him stride free of the underbrush, his white horns gleaming in the morning light. The alpha male had come back for her.

  Our gazes met. His ears flicked back and he stamped a hoof. I tightened my grip on my knife. I tried to think of what to do—any fragment of a lesson Kiran had given that would help me right now.

  There wasn’t one.

  The stag lowered his head, pointing all those deadly horns straight at me and charged.

  I scrambled to my feet and ran for the nearest tree. I could hear his thundering hooves on the ground, getting closer and closer. I wasn’t going to make it. I was fast, but he was much faster.

  The second before I could grab onto the lowest handhold, I heard a bowstring snap. The alpha bellowed. I dared to look back, just in time to see him fall and begin rolling. An arrow was sticking out of his haunches. He tumbled toward me, rolling like a big furry boulder. I tried to climb, but it was too late. The massive stag smashed right into me.

  The impact knocked the wind out of me. Something popped. One of my arms suddenly went numb. I was being crushed between a tree and a very angry faundra stag. Something sharp sliced right across my face. It must have been one of his horns. I felt the warmth of my own blood running down my face.

  “Reigh!” I heard Enyo’s voice.

  So did the stag. He staggered back to his feet, shifting his weight off me. I could breathe again, but I was seeing stars. I crumpled to the forest floor in a daze.

  “Don’t just sit there! Climb!” Enyo yelled again.

  The stag was charging straight for her, even with an arrow sticking out of his flank. She clumsily drew back another, her whole body trembling with terror. Her eyes were stuck on the shaggy monster galloping straight for her. I could see her hesitating, trying to decide if she should fire or flee.

  She wasn’t going to make it either way.

  Something inside me snapped, like the last raindrop before the dam broke.

  I screamed, yelling her name at the top of my lungs. The chill came over me again, a coldness that rushed through every vein, making my body jerk and my
eyes tear up.

  But this time I didn’t fight it. I clenched my fists and let it take me.

  Time seemed to slow down and stop altogether. I could feel my pulse getting slower. My puffing breaths turned to white fog in the air. Before me, darkness pooled, amassing into one dark, inky puddle on the ground. It rose up like a flickering column of black flames, and took the form of him …

  The black wolf I called Noh.

  He looked at me with a smiling canine mouth and red, wavering bogfire eyes.

  “Kill it,” I commanded.

  “With pleasure,” his hissing voice replied.

  TWO

  I couldn’t remember a time in my life when Noh hadn’t been there. Ever since I was a little kid, he’d always been right there, hiding in the back of my mind, like a memory from a former life that refused to fade. And almost as soon as I’d noticed his presence, Noh had absolutely terrified me.

  It wasn’t that he’d ever tried to hurt me. Somehow, I didn’t think he could have even if he wanted to. But I could feel his presence just as clearly as I could sense his intentions—and they weren’t good. He thrived on my anger, my sadness and confusion. Whenever Kiran and I had an argument, he would start creeping around the corners of the room, slipping soundlessly from shadow to shadow, almost like he was waiting for something.

  Waiting for me to finally lose it.

  I didn’t know what he would do. Frankly, I didn’t want to know. And Kiran had warned me over and over that I had to keep myself under control, I had to make sure not to go too far. The repercussions could be severe. Noh might hurt someone, and it would be my fault. I was the only one who could see Noh. I was the only one who could hear him, and the only person he listened to. I could control him—for now. But Kiran worried that if I let him off the chain, if I let him have his way, that might not be the case anymore.