Dragon Tide Omnibus 1

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  “We have many questions.”

  There was something hard on my back. Had I been set down?

  Yelling.

  Fear.

  Something warm curled on my chest while loud threats and the clash of steel met my ears.

  A whisper in my ear and a hand gently cupping my cheek.

  “Please don’t die, Seleska. Please hold on. I will return to you.”

  And then blackness. Nothing but blackness and darkness.

  I sank into the darkness, letting it encircle and embrace me. I wanted nothing more than to sink deep, deep into that velvet softness. But why had Heron sounded so distressed? I should be fighting this to help him. I should be trying my best to get back to him, not giving in to all my instincts to rest.

  I fought against the constraints of sleep, but the heaviness in my chest was too difficult.

  Nothingness stole me away.

  Chapter Two

  I woke to quiet murmurs and this time, I didn’t let myself sink back into the depths of darkness. I forced my eyes opened and clawed at the cloth covering me. I had to get up. I had to find Heron and Nasataa.

  Something snapped – an irritated sound. A hot tongue licked my face and all I could see were blue scales and gleaming eyes as Nasataa lunged and jumped at my face, licking my cheeks and nose. His breath smelled like a campfire.

  “Ungh,” I said.

  Selesa! Selesa!

  “Nasataa,” I moaned. “You’re okay.”

  And of course, he was. That little fellow could survive just about anything with his adventurous spirit and his big heart. I smiled weakly at the thought as I fought against an unwilling body to sit up. Something heavy clamped my legs to the ground.

  “Easy, there!” a strange voice cautioned me. “You’ve been through a lot. You can’t get up yet.”

  My eyes blinked at unfamiliar light. Everything around me except Nasataa was shades of white. Gleaming white, soft white, dappled light.

  A face emerged swathed in white cloth and a deep white hood. All I could see was a pair of reptilian eyes. I froze.

  “Don’t be afraid. That’s the usual reaction I’m afraid. You’d think it would be more comforting to see one of your own – someone who speaks your language and yet it’s always this. Shock. Fear. Turmoil. It seems so unfair.”

  “Why is it unfair?” I murmured. The white around me wasn’t soft exactly, but it was warm and the feeling I was getting from that radiating warmth was a good one – as if I was feeling my body being knit back together.

  “Because the Ilerioc are humans – sort of. We started as humans – Haz’s portion of the debt to Haz’drazen.”

  “Who are Haz and Haz’drazen?” I asked tiredly. This seemed all so unreal. The warmth, the whiteness, the chatter of bedtime stories. Perhaps I was dreaming.

  Nasataa crawled in close and tucked himself under my chin, promptly falling asleep. I wouldn’t be sitting up now that he was asleep there. That was okay.

  The Ilerioc – if that’s what this person was – looked shocked. Or at least as shocked as you can look when all you are showing the world is your eyes.

  “Haz was the great king of humans. Long, long ago he made a treaty with Haz’drazen, the Queen of all Dragons. Both of them led dwindling groups of people fleeing the wars of the Ifrits and their allies. Both needed each other to rebuild and find safety. To seal their treaty, the dragons agreed to send a specific number of dragons based on their population every year to serve as transportation and defense for the humans. This practice is still carried on today in the form of a lottery. The humans sealed their side of the bargain a different way – by gifting the dragons a set number of humans to keep forever as servants. Their children were bound by the same agreement – to serve. In theory, it was a better idea. No need to send more humans every year, just a one-time pledge. In practice, there are more of the Ilerioc living with the dragons than there are dragons living with Haz’s people – the Dominion. The dragons were wiser, it would seem, in how they chose to keep their bargain. More than that. Dragons keep their dragon traits because only a few are sent to the humans every year and they are born and raised among their own kind. Whereas we Ilerioc, are raised and born among dragons. Our humanity is – lessened. We have become our own race. Our own people. Our own tribe.”

  “That sounds so unfair,” I said. My mouth had been opening slowly more and more as this Ilerioc spoke, in surprise and then in horror. “You are never free? You are born to serve and die serving?”

  He shrugged. “Sort of. And yet, the dragons have never forced us to stay. We are not forced to serve. Theoretically, we could go at any time – back to lands where we are misunderstood and feared. To people who have gone on without us. To cultures we find barbaric and disgusting. It has never made sense for us to go. So, we have chosen to stay.”

  “But you are servants?”

  “We serve. And we are gifted things for our service.”

  “What kinds of things?” I asked, still confused.

  “The fruits of our labor – food, clothing, artifacts, metals, woods, all the things required of life.”

  “So, you’re paid?” I asked. “That doesn’t sound like a servant.”

  The Ilerioc shrugged. “I don’t know. I have not left the lands of Haz’drazen. What would I know about these things? What do you know about them?”

  Apparently not much. I’d assumed that no one would willingly serve someone else when they could be free. I still wasn’t sure I believed him.

  “And what do you do to serve?” I asked, hesitantly.

  “I translate language for those who come from outside – like you. The dragons do not like to speak into the minds of men – except for the Purples, but they are a strange lot. And so, they require someone else to speak. I am that someone.”

  “Oh,” I said, trying to smile. I didn’t want him to think that I was unfriendly and judging him – though I was. “And do you get many visitors from outside?”

  “Few make it through the Dawn Gate, but even there, interpreters are needed to send those unwanted away.”

  “I guess I should feel lucky to be here,” I said brightly.

  He nodded seriously. “You should.”

  “Oh.” I paused a long moment. “My name is Seleska.”

  “I know.”

  “Oh.” I felt a little foolish. I didn’t know his name.

  “Nasataa told me,” he said.

  “And your name is ...?” I asked.

  “Tereoc.”

  “Can you tell me where Heron is, Tereoc?” I asked brightly. I didn’t want to make him upset when I had so much information that I needed.

  “Was that the man who brought you here? He is in custody, awaiting judgment.”

  I gasped. “What can I do to get him free?”

  Poor Heron!

  Tereoc chuckled. “That has nothing to do with you. You are meant to stay here and to heal. See how three white dragons ensconce you? Their strength heals you. You would do well to remember that and be grateful.”

  “Oh,” I said, “I am very grateful.”

  Curiously, I looked around, realizing he was right. What I had taken for walls and floor and even furniture were actually the scaly legs and winding tails of three large White Dragons. Their breathing bore me up and down in a gently rocking sling and the strength of their healing power was what was radiating into me and healing my injuries.

  “And now you must rest. You were stabbed through the chest. Healing from that takes time – even with all this extra help. Sleep, and we will speak more in the morning.”

  I was worried about Heron. I should be getting up and trying to find him. But even as I said those things to myself, exhaustion overtook me, and I drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Three

  This time when I woke, there was no one there but Nasataa and the white dragons, and all of them were asleep. Moonlight spilled over the sleeping whites, filtering through their semi-translucent manes an
d rippling over their reflective scales. They were truly beautiful.

  I slipped my legs out from under a tail, surprised to see that I’d been stripped to my underthings, but if the puckering scar in my side was anything to judge by, my clothing was probably ruined.

  Nasataa slept beside me, curled in a ball with his small head resting on his back haunches. Was it just me, or was he larger? I stroked his head, feather-light so as not to wake him, and assessed my situation.

  I felt buoyant – light, energetic, ready to go. Nothing ached or hurt or grumbled in my body – even my ankle had stopped throbbing, and it had been hurting for days. The burns on my legs were gone. Only that one huge scar remained.

  Oh well.

  Scars made you look tough and capable. I liked that.

  I could be tough, right? And every day I got just a little more capable.

  So, Nasataa was well. I was well. I turned my attention to my surroundings. I was under a dome woven of something thick and white like a hard lace patterned in flower-like sprays. Inside, the three dragons lay all tangled around one another. Through the lace, the moonlight made patterns of flower shadows across our bodies.

  I stood carefully, slipping around the tangled dragons as best I could, only climbing on them when necessary. They didn’t seem to notice, and soon I was at the edge of their nest, looking out through the white lace.

  My breath caught in my throat. The moonlight spilled over a world of vertical heights and waterfalls, gleaming on the tumbling falls, outlining the heights in silver gilding. It was velvet shadows and silver gleams, shushing winds and the scent of jasmine. It was the things dreams were made of. I could barely believe I was there at all.

  Was this the world Nasataa was born for? Not the rough and tumble fun of island life or the stark violence of the land of the Rock Regime, but this glorious, angelic place? Was this the world Ramariri was meant for – the world he had denied himself when he saved me?

  My eyes stung as I let them travel from one raised platform wreathed in lace to the pool nearby where flashing fish leapt into the sky. They skittered over hanging flowers made of carved stone where tiny lights told me that people slept inside the hanging flowers. They caressed the forms of the mountains, strong and shielding, surrounding a white, water-filled city far too pristine for an island girl like me.

  I felt strangely sad at the sight, like glimpsing something beautiful you could never have or smelling some delicious food you could never taste.

  Reluctantly, I drew back and felt along the stone-lace wall. There must be a door somewhere.

  I found a table first. A small round mirror stood above it. On the table, a pitcher of water and a bowl and a stack of clothing awaited me. I washed hurriedly, slipping on the leather pants, flowing shirt, corset, and spiky-heeled boots. They looked a lot like my old ones – almost as if someone had recovered my things and tried to replace them.

  Biting my lip, I made my way around the back of one of the dragons and finally found the door. It opened to a narrow platform and then nothing.

  My breath caught at the drop into darkness.

  “Dragons don’t need stairs.”

  I startled at the sound of the voice and from the side of the platform – hidden when you looked straight out the door, a man holding a Dragon Staff an awful lot like mine, stepped forward. He was dressed in tidy white leather, cut into breeches, a vest and various straps buckled with silver. Under the vest, even his shirt was a pale color – hard to discern in the moonlight. Just like the first Ilerioc to greet me, his head was wreathed in white cloth, so that nothing but his eyes showed – and they shone in the night like a cat’s.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, realizing I’d been staring for too long. “I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t a guard. I’m Seleska.”

  “You’re both under guard until we sort you out,” he said. It was strange how easy he was to understand – no accent. And shouldn’t he have an accent? When I’d come to the island, everyone had an accent – a lilting cheerful accent. And the Rock Eaters had that slow, drawling accent. So why didn’t it seem like the Ilerioc had one?

  “Nasataa hasn’t done anything,” I protested. “He’s innocent.”

  “I meant both pairs of girls and dragons.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  “Both ... what?”

  His reptilian eyes narrowed on me at the same time that Nasataa bounded out of the room and out to the narrow platform, leaping into my arms. I cuddled him close, letting my cheek rest on his head and listen to his purring sound as the Ilerioc answered.

  “You arrived, carried by a dark islander and with a baby Blue Dragon. Our guards were stunned. They were even more stunned when less than an hour later another girl – about your age – arrived with her own baby Red Dragon. Both she and your islander claimed the dragon is a Chosen One meant to restore magic to the world. Both she and your islander claimed that you are the dragon’s guardians. We didn’t know who to believe, so for now, Prince Taoslil allowed both of you to enter the Lands of Haz’drazen. You will be sorted out soon by the dragons.”

  “Can’t you ask the Troglodytes?” I asked. He looked surprised.

  “Would you believe that the other girl asked the same thing?”

  I felt the blood rushing from my face. Who was this other girl?

  He sniffed. “The Troglodytes have not chosen to comment on this.”

  “Don’t you have mind-reading dragons?” I pushed.

  “If you mean the Purples – well, they don’t just go around reading minds without a good reason. That’s not how they operate.”

  “This seems like a good reason,” I said reprovingly. I would have crossed my arms if I wasn’t holding Nasataa.

  “Even so, they cannot tell.”

  “Well,” I said.

  “Exactly. We’re in a conundrum. Who do we trust? Which story do we believe?”

  “Were you the Ilerioc speaking to me when I woke up?” I asked. He didn’t sound like a servant. He made it sound like he would be in on the decision while the other one had made it sound like he was basically just a plaything of the dragons.

  He scoffed. “Tereoc? No. Don’t let his strange ideas get in your head. He’s too caught up in history.”

  “He said you were slaves.”

  His posture stiffened. “We have not been slaves for many generations.”

  “And if you aren’t a slave, why didn’t you tell me your name?” I asked, pouting. “That hardly seems polite. I told you mine.”

  He seemed startled. “I’m Jeriath, Top White of the Ilerioc Guard.”

  I smiled, teasingly. “And how did you get up here, Jeriath? I don’t see any wings on your back.”

  He snorted. “I climbed the stairs. But don’t even think about it. There will be orders to get you in the morning. You should go back to sleep and wait for your escort.”

  “With my friend in custody and Nasataa and I hanging in the balance you think I will go back to sleep?” I could feel my expression turning stubborn. And with good reason. I was going nowhere until someone showed me Heron and proved he was okay.

  “I think that if you take one step toward the stairs, I’ll have to stop you with physical force,” he replied.

  With a mischievous look, I stepped toward the edge of the platform until he gasped at my closeness, but he couldn’t admit that he cared if I fell, and I hadn’t looked down, so the height didn’t bother me. In one graceful move, I sank down to sit with my legs hanging over the edge.

  “I think I’ll sit here,” I said breezily.

  “Suit yourself.”

  “And while I’m sitting here, maybe you can tell me where you thieves put my Dragon Staff.”

  There was no response to that or to any other questions until dawn lit the sky.

  Chapter Four

  It started with drums.

  At first, I didn’t even realize that they were drums. I thought it was just my beating heart, speeding up as t
he first rays of dawn lit the sky. Who was this other girl, and what would happen to me if the dragons chose her? Would Nasataa and I just be left to carry on in life – not a bad thing at all! – or would we suffer some kind of punishment for coming here? Jeriath – of course – said nothing. He simply stood and guarded all night long, ignoring my teasing and various attempts to get a rise out of him until, tired, I retreated into silence.

  Nasataa was unconcerned about any tension between us or about our captivity in a lace prison. He dove and leapt, grabbing at my hair, chittering and doing tiny flips. I played with him half-heartedly, tussling him around and tickling him under the chin. It was dangerous on the edge of the platform – and I wasn’t sure if Nasataa could even fly – but he was surefooted and quick, never getting too close to the edge.

  When the drums finally started, he was curled up around my shoulders like the world’s heaviest scarf, snoring almost as loudly as they were. He was starting to get too big for that position, the tip of his tail dangling down as far as my waist. I was going to have to get stronger shoulders if he wanted to keep riding on them. I was trying to hold off worry. Worry wouldn’t help and I didn’t like it when I was worrying. It made my belly hurt. A bright, cheerful spirit was a better tool than endless fussing.

  I forced a bright smile on my face and held my head up high. I’d keep the smile on my face until I felt it for real.

  I had expected dragons to arrive, but what I hadn’t expected was so many. A swarm of the huge creatures started as dots in the distance near the great waterfall, but as they grew nearer, I could count twenty of them. What worried me was that a similar sized group took flight moments later, headed in a different direction. So. They were sending groups for both of us. Me and the other girl.

  I tried not to tighten with tension, focusing instead on keeping my face relaxed and my smile in place. The drum was on the back of one of the dragons – or maybe it was just one of the drums. Maybe there was a drum for the other girl, too. An Ilerioc stood on the dragon’s back, pounding the drum as they flew toward us. He must be very surefooted and very certain that the dragon wouldn’t drop him.