Dragon Tide Omnibus 1

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  There he was!

  He was hurrying through the grasses chasing after a bright blue butterfly. I was about to cheer with relief when I saw what else he was running toward. A group of men and women on horses – holding long lances and wrapped in the same loose clothing as Octon – but without the goggles and masks and with tabards bearing rock-shaped sigils – were stopped, pointing up at me. One of them appeared to be shouting.

  I froze in place. If I ran to Nasataa, I would draw their attention. If I did nothing, he would run right to them. I didn’t know what to do. Should I charge them and seize their attention?

  There was a loud roar behind me and Damokas surged into the air, wings flapping powerfully and head reaching high into the air as his scream tore through the afternoon sun. Vyvera was on his back, her glittering eyes fixed on the patrol.

  I didn’t wait. I seized the opportunity to run down the hill toward Nasataa as the patrol sent a stream of arrows toward Damokas. I hadn’t even noticed their bows! I glanced toward them as I ran, and I saw them aiming at the Black dragon, pointing strange devices that looked like bows held horizontally. They snapped rapidly, firing at the dragon as he climbed higher and higher.

  If I hadn’t drawn their attention, they wouldn’t be attacking my friends. I should have controlled my panic.

  I called to Nasataa with my mind, but he didn’t seem to hear. He was still running headlong toward our enemies and the gap was too big to get to him first. That didn’t stop me from running. Not even when I turned my ankle in my heeled boots, pain flooding my mind at the pop sound of it twisting under me. I fell to the ground, smacking hard against the hard earth, and then scrambled back to my feet again, grabbing my staff from where it had fallen in the grass. One foot didn’t want to take my weight.

  I waved my arms, trying to get Nasataa’s attention.

  I was too late. One of the men sprang from his horse and ran to the little dragon, grabbing him in both arms and dragging him to the horses. I was still running, despite the pain and the strange way my foot kept turning under me at every step as if it couldn’t quite support my weight.

  They couldn’t take him! Not my Nasataa!

  An ache so strong I didn’t think I could hurt that badly seized me as the horse he was on reared. The eyes of all the patrol were turned to me and I could tell that they wanted me, too, but then I was pulled backward, strong arms gripping me and fighting me into the grass.

  I saw the leader of the patrol watching me. His expression hardened and then he pointed forward and they charged down the road away from me.

  They were taking my Nasataa and I didn’t know where they were going. A sob tore through my lungs and I fought the arms holding me. Why hadn’t the patrol turned back to get us, too?

  Heat seared me as strong arms lifted me up and jostled me as my captor ran. I knew it was Heron without having to look, but why was he carrying me?

  It took some effort to keep the staff held out from us so that the blade on the end didn’t hurt him as he ran.

  A wave of heat hit me in the face and I turned to see flames rushing through the grass all around us. The trees on the hillside were already in flames. The whole valley was like a crown of flame and ash.

  “I can run,” I called out to Heron. I was only slowing him down.

  “Not on that ankle,” he said.

  And I should have been grateful that he was saving my life and carrying me to safety, but my eyes were still fixed on the retreating backs of the soldiers carrying my baby away.

  Where were they taking him? I wished with all my heart that I had paid better attention and that I’d been able to keep him safe.

  In the distance, Vyvera’s Black dragon was nothing but a dot in the sky.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “This way,” Octon said bursting out of the flaming grass like a bird from her nest. I gasped as he led us at a run across the road, ducking into a wooded copse and then past that to a flowing river – clearly the source of the creek we’d been drinking from.

  At the edge of the river, he pulled a wall of woven branches and vines aside and tugged out a small boat he had hidden there.

  “Put her in there,” he ordered Heron, and Heron practically threw me into the boat before tugging a big canvas over my head. He shoved the butt of my staff roughly under the canvas.

  “Stay put,” he hissed and then I heard the banging of oars being thrown in the boat and a scrambling sound.

  “Tug them on over your clothes. They’ll be a close fit. You’re a big man,” Octon said.

  There was a rustle of cloth and then the boat was jostled back and forth and pushed forward – launched, I assumed – into the river. The splash of oars hitting the water was followed by another whisper from Octon.

  “Follow my lead. We row in time and against the river.”

  Heron grunted in response and they shot through the water.

  I tugged at the canvas, trying to see but before I could get out a hand pushed me down.

  “Stay under the canvas,” Heron hissed.

  I didn’t know how long I waited there, tension filling me. Every moment felt like an hour. The longer I hid here, the further away my enemies took Nasataa. What if they were killing him already? What if he was hurt or hungry and no one was there to take care of him?

  And where had Vyvera gone? She’d disappeared in a flash without one second’s thought about the rest of us. I’d trusted her. I’d been a fool.

  It felt like hours before I heard Octon whispering to Heron.

  “This channel, this one here.”

  And even longer before the boat bottom scraped on something and the canvas was pulled off my head.

  “Sorry for the delay, little lady,” Octon drawled in his honey-thick accent. “But it was the only way to get you out of there before the Bubblers came to put out the fire. A clever distraction your friend made. It gave us time to escape while their Patrol went chasing after her and the dragon.”

  “But the little dragon. Nasataa,” I said. I could barely keep from crying as I said his name. I’d failed him.

  “They won’t dispose of him until they’ve talked to their authorities. No one does anything in our lands without a written judgment from an authority. So, you have time to rescue him if you wish. But for now, let’s deal with you.” He looked up at Heron. “Can you carry her again?”

  I looked back at him and nearly jumped. Heron was swathed in the red clothing and goggles of the people here and he looked like a giant Rock Eater.

  He chuckled at my shocked expression.

  “There are a lot of people on the river. Good thing Octon had extra clothing!”

  He lifted me with ease, carrying me as we followed Octon out of the boat. It had been pulled up on a grassy bank along the river. Beside it, a small cabin sat, squat and ensconced by massive, sprawling trees.

  Octon opened the door and we followed him into a cluttered home. Tools and implements and stacks of books filled every available space and were hung from the walls and from lines strung across the top of the room. Gnarled knot art hung on the walls and fishing buoys were strung out across the floor. Someone was mending a net. Someone else was half-way through stitching something leather. Someone else had started a beadwork project and then walked away. Heron set me down on a bench on top of a pile of books, putting my feet up on his knee as he squatted down and began to remove my boots.

  “I can do that,” I protested but he didn’t stop.

  “We can wrap the ankle,” Octon said, bringing a long bandage to where I was. “But I don’t have shoes for her except for the soft woodland boots the people to the south favor. They don’t have to fit precisely, so she could wear a pair of those.”

  As soon as Heron had my boots off he began to feel my foot, rocking it back and forth and flexing it up and down until I gasped. Then, he began to spool the bandage Octon gave us around my ankle, tying it tightly and expertly.

  “It’s not a bad sprain,” he said, his touch gentle
on my hurt foot. “If you keep it wrapped and are careful, it will heal fast. Just keep this strand of bandage tight to support it while it heals.”

  “Thank you,” I said, feeling my cheeks heat at the kindness he was showing.

  “Let me find you those boots,” Octon said as Heron fussed over the bandage.

  Octon returned with soft boots that only went as high as my ankles. They were made of soft fur and he was right – despite being a bit big on me, the soft shape of them made that unimportant. He also offered me goggles, a mask, and the red flowing outfit.

  “Thank you,” I said sincerely. If we had to sneak in somewhere to rescue Nasataa, it would be easier with local clothing. “What is the purpose of the goggles and mask?”

  He looked uncomfortable at the question but eventually, he answered.

  “Our land has grown barren of magic. The Saaasallla’s Finders often use their special abilities to blow holes in the earth and sea looking for new sources of magic. We wear the goggles and masks to protect ourselves from the things that fly up in the dust. There are strange things buried in the ground – things men were not meant to disturb.”

  That was unsettling. I pointed at the goggles on the top of his head. “How do you know to make sure they are on?”

  “You’ll know,” he said shortly.

  “By what manner do these Finders ‘blow holes’?” Heron asked with narrowed eyes. It made sense that would be the part that got his attention.

  “It’s a secret,” Octon said. “But it involves combining powders and liquids.”

  Heron was still frowning when a boom sounded outside the cabin and Octon pulled his goggles over his eyes so quickly that it looked like instinct. Eyes wide, we copied him, but after a moment he pulled them back up and strode to the door, opening it wide. An exhausted looking Vyvera stepped through.

  “We need to go,” she said. “Now.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Why?” Octon asked.

  “Your cabin is surrounded.”

  I scrambled to my feet and Heron slung an arm under me while with my other hand I leaned on the staff and with his help, I hobbled out of the cabin. Behind us, Octon riffled through his things, going from stack to stack as he tossed things into a huge pack.

  “Hurry!” Vyvera said to him. “We’ll all have to cram onto Damokas’ back. Four is a big load.”

  Heron helped me outside and up onto Damokas while Vyvera tried to chivvy Octon into hurrying. Around the cabin, I heard the snap of sticks and the creak of branches – telltale signs of sneaking around us. I clutched the Dragon Staff, too worried to speak out loud. My other hand found one of Heron’s as he settled in place, gripping it tightly. He squeezed it reassuringly.

  Things had gotten scary fast.

  At the first flash of red in the trees, I gave a strangled cry and at the same moment, Vyvera and Octon ran from the cabin, a long scarf and some device I didn’t recognize trailing from Octon’s bag as their clothing flapped behind them.

  Damokas shifted nervously from foot to foot and with good reason. The first arrow zipped toward us and embedded in a tree beside Damokas’ head with a thunk. It was still quivering when Vyvera launched herself onto Damokas’ back.

  Octon shoved his overly-full bag to me and I gripped it, trying to shift it into a position where it could balance on Damokas’ back while Heron grabbed the smaller man and pulled him up behind the saddle. He was still tying him in when Damokas kicked up into the air.

  There was a yell from the treeline and a series of curses as red figures emerged. A hail of arrows was let loose – more enthusiastic than accurate. They streaked around us, some of them bouncing off the dragon’s belly.

  Octon bit off a scream as we sailed upward and Vyvera bit off a curse.

  “They’re everywhere. I thought you said it was only a patrol!”

  “A Patrol is the military name for a group of a thousand soldiers,” Octon protested.

  “Did an arrow hit you?” I asked him. I was worried about that scream.

  “No,” Octon said, breathlessly.

  Vyvera’s curses rang through the sky as Damokas climbed, bursting into the cloud layer with an aura of relief. We were hidden from view up here and though the occasional arrow broke through the clouds, none of them had the strength to even pierce the air by the time they reached us.

  “I guess we’re safe as long as we’re on the dragon,” Heron said and Vyvera snorted.

  “Sure. As long as the cloud cover holds.”

  “The arrows can’t reach us,” he objected.

  “The towers will wipe out any enemies who fly,” Octon said. “We’re hidden in the clouds, but the clouds won’t last forever.”

  “Towers?” Heron asked.

  “Didn’t you see them gleaming along the shores and the city walls? They say that a tower can amplify a stream of fire to hit a seagull a mile away.”

  “Well, Damokas is bigger than a seagull,” Heron said. “And that report sounds exaggerated.”

  “How comforting,” Octon said wryly.

  “Nasataa was captured by the men on horses,” I broke into the discussion. To me, that was the most important part. Arrows, towers, arguments – none of that mattered compared to the little dragon.

  “I saw where they went with him,” Vyvera said. “There is one of those towers beside a town.”

  “Aaavtar – that’s the town,” Octon agreed. “But if he is in the tower, no one will be able to rescue him there. Certainly not something that flies. They’ll see you in a moment and blast you from the sky.”

  “What about if we hid Damokas somewhere and snuck in?” I asked. It was clear we were flying in circles as we thought of what to do next and if they were right and the clouds were our only protection, then we needed to decide what to do quickly before the clouds blew away and left us vulnerable.

  “And who would do the sneaking?” Vyvera asked.

  “I would!” I said boldly.

  What was I thinking? Was I really volunteering to sneak into an enemy tower? I didn’t even know how to fight if someone attacked me and they were firing real arrows out there! But Nasataa was in there somewhere and I wasn’t going to leave him in danger no matter how frightening it might be to go after him.

  “You have a sprained ankle,” Vyvera said.

  “I don’t,” Heron said. “I’ll go with her.”

  I squeezed his hand gratefully. I wouldn’t have to do it alone.

  “You don’t know how to go unnoticed in a strange land,” she protested.

  Octon sighed. “I’ll go with them.”

  “Then why don’t you go alone and leave them with me?” Vyvera asked.

  “I’m not touching a dragon!” Octon said. “I’ll help them get him out so you can all leave, but I don’t want trouble with the patrol and I definitely don’t want to have to touch a dragon.”

  “You’re riding a dragon!”

  “That’s different.” He adjusted his goggles over his eyes. It gave him a strange, faraway look.

  “And what do you expect that I will do in this master plan of yours?” Vyvera asked me dryly.

  “Could you come and get us when we escape?” I asked. “I mean, once we’re out of the range of the tower, couldn’t we meet you somewhere?”

  Vyvera sighed so loudly that we could hear her over the sound of the wind.

  “I can’t think of a better plan. You’d better pick a good rendezvous spot, Lightbringer,” she said to Octon.

  I smiled. We were going to go rescue Nasataa.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It felt strange to try to sneak in the flowing red clothing.

  “Why red?” I whispered to Octon when Vyvera dropped us off in the woods. She’d sent Damokas in a nosedive through the clouds to land in the woods and then she’d launched back into the air immediately, flying low to draw attention away from us. Watching her leave like that left a knot in my belly. Would she be okay? What she was doing was really risky. What all of us were doi
ng was risky. But I couldn’t just leave Nasataa. “Red stands out so much!”

  “We don’t all wear red,” Octon said, forging a path through the trees.

  I leaned heavily on my staff, following him. My ankle hurt and I was sweating from walking on it, even if most of my weight was on the bladed staff, but I didn’t dare stop. If they had to stop for me, they might all decide to turn around and give up on this quest.

  “Red denotes warriors. Other classes wear other colors.”

  “So that means you’re a warrior?” I pressed.

  Heron followed us silently. Something was on his mind and he watched the woods constantly.

  “Yes.”

  “Where are your weapons?”

  I’d been too busy before to really notice how different this world was from home. The forest was thick and tangled and smelled of plants I didn’t even know existed before. Heavy fronds rose up from the soft forest floor. But the ground seemed to be made entirely of dead plants – nothing like the sand back home and I couldn’t smell the sea. It felt wrong not to be smelling the sea.

  “I fight with hands and feet,” Octon said.

  “And you’re helping us. Against your own people.” Heron said and now I realized why he was so quiet. He didn’t trust Octon. His voice as thick with wariness.

  “For my people,” Octon corrected, shooting a firm look over his shoulder at Heron. “My people have suffered long under the harsh rule of the Saaasallla. Our suffering increases with her desperation. If magic is not found again in the wells of the earth, more and more people will be sacrificed in the quest for power.”

  “You seem to have a lot of people here,” Heron remarked.

  Octon stopped dead and I almost walked into him before he turned, glaring at Heron.

  “Let us be clear, islander. There are many people here, yes, but they are no less precious to us than if we lived where there were few. A person’s value does not depend on the community around them or what they bring to the world. A person’s value lies in being a person. So, sacrificing people for power – even when there are many people, even when in a land with so many people it can be easy to overlook the value of individuals – it’s still wrong. It’s still a horrific waste.”