Gifted Magic - White Dragon Tower - Book 1: (Young Adult Paranormal Romance Knights, Dragons, and Magic Series)

by Kya Lind

  Traven smirked, watching the kid stomp into camp and dump a pitiful handful of sticks into the empty fire pit. What he needed was an attitude adjustment, thought Traven.

  “Go get firewood,” barked Traven again.

  The kid glared at Traven, spun on his heels and stomped back into the underbrush.

  “And I’m just the one to tan his backside if he doesn’t straighten up,” Traven muttered to his horse.

  Barn shook his head up and down in agreement.

  Traven’s private musing was interrupted by a squeal. He quickly moved in the direction that the boy had gone pulling his sword as he advanced. Before he could completely release the metal from its sheath, the young boy, with amazing speed, plowed into the big guard’s chest. Traven steadied himself from the impact as the boy spun around to face the forest and backed up against the guard’s solid form. Traven’s trained eyes and ears scanned the forest for signs of trouble.

  Nothing moved.

  Traven stood with his arms spread and feet braced for attack, the kid smashed up against his chest. The kid was trembling violently.

  “What happened,” he demanded.

  The boy stilled and in a low barely, audible mumble squeaked, “snake” while pointing at the woods.

  “SNAKE,” Traven hissed in disgust, “This whole fuss is because you saw a snake? Are you kidding me?” Traven sheathed his blade, “Of course there are snakes, where did you think they lived - the Palace in Gloryland?” Traven shoved his young charge forward, “Go get wood, and quit being such a baby.”

  The kid looked at him in disbelief and then his face took on its familiar glare. He stomped forward and then altered his course, heading in the opposite direction of the snake. At the edge of the small clearing, he paused and tentatively poked around in the fallen leaves as he slowly worked up enough courage to reenter the woods.

  Traven called after him, “And you scream like a girl.” Chuckling Traven watched as the kid marched stiff legged away into the underbrush. He shook his head again. “Worthless. That kid is trouble. Snakes!” Traven returned to his work.

  That was the first time the kid had said anything. Traven’s mind returned to the puzzle that was that kid. Oh, his glares said enough, but he never talked. Traven shrugged again. That kid was trouble. He and that Dreamlady were nothing but trouble, and Traven was smack in the middle of it. Traven smiled to himself. Like his father always said, knee deep and smelling to high heaven.

  Traven watched the kid’s head bob up and down in the distance as the kid wrestled to free a limb from a fallen log. Traven’s musing was distracted by the sight of the kid, his figure bundled up in his too big coat, wrestling with the limb. A sharp crack sounded and the small figure tumbled over backwards onto the ground. He came up seconds later with the freed limb and did what looked like a dance of joy. Traven smiled and shook his head. That kid sure needed looking after. He surprised to realize that he felt as protective toward the kid as he felt toward the DreamLady. Traven’s mind flashed to memories of his lovely night visitor. He sighed. He was losing his ever-loving mind.

  Chapter 11

  Just past twilight, there was a loud commotion coming from the town. The wagons and carts of the circus wagons rolling with slow determination through the town and on into the Plumberry tree grove. Traven wasn’t surprised to see them, he was only surprised they had made such good time. He noted that the kid seemed irritated at their arrival.

  The first wagon approached and the fat, barrel-chested man, Traven recognized as the leader sat on the wagon seat. Next to him sat the short, very plump, older woman Traven assumed was his wife. He recognized her as the one they had talked to earlier in the day.

  The older man greeted Traven with a tip of his hat. “Ho, friend, fine night, fine night. Can we share the bounty of your camp?”

  Traven recognized this polite custom and replied, “Join, there is more than enough room for all.”

  The kid glared at Traven as the clearing filled with circus vehicles.

  Traven was surprised that by the time the group had settled camp and began cooking food, town locals started wandering into the camp. The area was quickly crowded with circus visitors and a large number of local men. The air held a festive air. Traven watched as newcomers jostled for seats in the ever growing circle. Someone had started passing around a jug, and several of the circus members pulled out instruments and started playing a lively jigmer. Traven smiled; he suddenly found himself in the middle of a party and he had a front row seat.

  The jug was passed to Traven and he took a swallow. The liquor burned a path to his stomach. Good stuff. With a mischievous grin he handed the jug to the kid who was sitting close to his side. The kid sniffed the bottle glared at him and passed the jug on.

  “Loosen up,” Traven barked at his young charge as the music built to a climax.

  The large circus leader stood up and announced, “The lady you have all come to see,” with great theatrical gestures finished the introduction, “Benette.”

  Traven caught his breath as the door on one of the caravans opened and a beautiful, sultry, willow limbed daughter of the earth stepped slowly out into clear view. The crowd stomped and whistled. The gorgeous young lady stepped lightly down the ladder as the music swirled around her. The crowd immediately quieted as Benette opened her mouth and began to sing. Her voice had the low, sultry sound of melted honey. The audience sighed. Traven was entranced. She was beautiful. Oh, not as beautiful as his DreamLady, but much more in his league. He didn’t feel guilty about looking at what she offered. The silken scarves of her skirt whirled around her long shapely legs as she started to dance. The crowd of men responded with applause. Traven took a quick peek at the kid. He chuckled in delight as the utterly shocked and appalled expression on the kid’s face. Traven’s attention was quickly recaptured by the vision of the beautiful gypsy siren that danced and sang around the campfire for more than an hour.

  The circus leader kept sticking his hat in front of men in the audience. Coins were quickly tossed in so that the man would move and quite blocking the view. Eventually, one of the men refused to contribute.

  “Halt,” the giant leader commanded. The music came to a sudden awkward end. In the silence, Benette stopped dancing. “Pay tribute, or leave,” commanded the circus leader.

  The man stubbornly shook his head.

  “Oh, I see,” declared the leader, and with a wave of his big hand, Benette started for the caravan; the show was over.

  The crowd surged to its feet in protest. The man who had refused to contribute stood firm for several more seconds before giving to peer pressure, and dropping a coin into the hat. Many others rapidly added to his coin.

  The big circus leader smiled, and with another wave of his hand, Benette and the musicians began exactly where they had left off. The show continued for several more hours. Traven was as sad as all the others when Benette at last blew kisses to the audience and bowing climbed the stairs and disappeared through the door into the caravan.

  The contented locals wandered off home happy, taking the festival noise with them. The camp quickly settled into slumber. Traven settled down next to Barn and the kid and drifted into a lazy slumber depending on Barn to wake him if anyone came close.

  Traven glanced around. The tavern was packed with Kingdom guardsmen and locals. The front door of the bar was standing open and the festive sounds of the fall celebration were in the air. Traven looked at the cards he held in his hands and then gauged the worth of his component.

  “All in,” he shoved his pile of coins into the center of the table.

  Several of the others groaned and threw in their cards, but the Royal guard who sat across from him narrowed his eyes. The Royal pushed his pile of coins into the center and smirked. “Show up, boy,” the Royal commanded.

  Traven laid his straight crown run on the table. The other members of the table gasped. The Royal stood up the stomped away in disgust. Traven laughed and scraped the large pile of
coins into his purse.

  Music started and the Circus leader announced, “…and now,the lovely Benette.” Traven turned around to find himself back at the campsite. Benette was dancing. Her skirts flying higher and higher; she beautiful, long legs were shown in flashes as she swirled around the fire. Her rich, low voice vibrated on the inside of his skull. Benette twirled directly in front of him. She draped her arms across his shoulders and smiled into his eyes. She was singing only for him. She whirled away and then danced back, teasing him. Traven reached out a hand to touch her hair. It was like satin fire. Benette moved. In a blink, she was sitting across his lap, her legs straddling his. Her hands slid up his chest. She purred up into his face.

  The surrounding changed again. They were now in a comfortable room at an inn. Benette smiled and leaned closer.

  “Uhhum…”, interrupted a voice, clearing its throat.

  Traven’s eyes jerked from Benette’s to that of his DreamLady. Shock and guilt coursed through his body. Instantly, anger replaced these emotions. He didn’t have anything to feel guilty about she was the one who had appeared uninvited.

  “Sorry, to bother you, but I really must speak to you,” the DreamLady was trying not to look at Traven and his visitor. Bright pink spread over her elegant cheekbones as she waited for him to reply.

  Traven resisted feeling guilty at his DreamLady’s disapproval. “Look you can’t just keep barging into my dreams every time you want something. I told you I would take the kid to the tower and I am.”

  “I know. I tried to knock, but you didn’t hear me,” she cleared her throat again. “I see why now. But you can’t keep taking the boy into areas with so many people,” her voice had a desperate edge to it.

  “Why not?” Traven demanded.

  His DreamLady looked at him, then at Benette who still sat on his lap. She opened her mouth and then snapped it closed, “You just can’t,” she informed him.

  Traven shrugged as though unconcerned. He was exhausted and angry. He had pretty much thrown his Kingdom guard position away and for what? To babysit some snot-nosed kid who was nothing but trouble and a major tattle-tell? To follow the orders of this spoilt brat Noble’s daughter determined to command his alliance with no care for his wants or needs? After all, he was just a second son; No one of importance.

  “I told you I would take him to the tower, but we will do it my way, understand,” his rage showed in his face and his tone.

  The DreamLady retreated slightly. She moved to the doorway. “There are many things you do not understand. The boy cannot be around large crowds . . . especially if there are Magics.” She paused and tilted her head in Benette’s direction. “Magics are everywhere. You do not know the first thing about recognizing their presence.”

  “Yeah, right,” Traven snorted in disgust. “What is the first thing I should know about Magics. Don’t let them wander around in my dreams.” His gaze on her sharpened, hoping to make his point clear.

  The DreamLady pointed a finger at Benette who was still sitting motionlessly on Traven’s lap. “Check the shadows, Kingdom Guardsman.”

  And then she was gone.

  Chapter 12

  Traven woke at the first sounds of the camp stirring the next morning. He accepted a cup of coffee from the man sitting at the fire pit. Traven couldn’t get what the DreamLady had said out of his mind. What did she mean check the shadows? Traven was pondering this as he saddled Barn and kicked the kid on the bottom of his dusty boots which were poking out from under the blanket wrapped around the boy like he was a sausage. Traven waited until the expected bag of silver was tossed out. He collected it and stored it safely away. The kid tromped into the woods, but returned quickly. Traven frowned. Traven looked down at his shadow. It was - well his shadow. He checked the kid’s. The kids shadow fit his shape. She had said to check the shadows, but she had been referring specifically to Benette. Like she thought Benette was not who she appeared. Traven frowned. That could not be true, could it?

  Traven told the kid to mount up. Holding Barn’s rein in his hands, he started out of the camp. After a second’s hesitation, Traven decided on a slight detour. He dipped into the purse and selected one bronze coin; it was a hefty sum, but he had to know. He approached the Circus Leader’s caravan. The big man was sitting on the ladder drinking a mug of coffee.

  He greeted the man, and asked if he could possibly see Benette for one brief minute to give her a gift. The big man eyed the bronze coin, and declared that he would give it to her himself. Traven shook his head and explained that he must give it to her personally. The leader grunted and mounted the steps, disappearing into the caravan.

  Traven stood there, feeling decidedly stupid. He looked at the kid. The kid was not glaring at him as he usually did when Traven spent the coins from the pouch, but merely sat, watching him closely.

  With a rustle, Benette appeared and tripped lightly down the ladder. She was dressed in the same outfit that she had worn the night before. The large circus man followed her. Benette smiled at him with the same delight and suggestiveness as she had the night before.

  Traven’s eyes were drawn not to her face and form, but to her shadow. He blinked. There he stood in the early morning sunlight before a beautiful, young woman whose shadow definitely belonged to the short, overly plump wife of the circus leader. Traven’s eyes moved from the shadow to the girl and back. Traven bowed while pressing the bronze coin into her hand. Maintaining his controlled expression, he walked away. He walked on for several minutes, digesting this information. The other things his DreamLady had said whirled around and around in his head. Magics are everywhere. He felt exposed. If they were everywhere, how did one keep oneself safe?

  After thirty minutes of hard walking, Traven stopped and looked at the kid. The kid squirmed under his gaze. “Does the DreamLady look in real life like she does when I’m dreaming?” Traven demanded. The kid seemed caught completely off guard by this question. After his initial start, his expression changed from surprise to guarded confusion. The kid slowly nodded yes.

  Traven heaved a sigh and tried to relax his tense muscles, “Good.”

  He pulled the kid down. Traven mounted the horse and pulled the kid back up behind him. The kid’s arms looped around his waist as Barn settled into his long-stride canter. Traven thoughts still spun dizzily. He couldn’t believe that he had been caught dreaming about a fat, old woman with crooked, rotten teeth. Even more embarrassing, his DreamLady knew what she really was. Warmth crept up Traven’s neck. He groaned in humiliation at the whole situation.

  At twilight, Traven was caught off guard when the road wound its way up against a rock bluff suddenly turned to the right. Around the corner, their party met an advancing gallan of Kingdom guardsmen. Traven stiffened in panic, but they had already been seen. He slowed Barn to a walk, cursing himself for the ill-timing as they drew near the advancing gallan. Traven expected a soldier’s salute followed by a multitude of questions about his appearance, his mismatched clothes, and the nature of his business in the region.

  Instead, the gallan greeted him as a fellow traveler with “Nice day for a ride, old man.”

  Traven frowned at this and continued on his way. Slightly passed the gallan by about five hundred lengths, Traven twisted around in the saddle to watch the group of soldiers continued on their way. Traven frowned. Something wasn’t right. He saw one of the guard's motion the others to stop and examine the tracks on the road. A feeling of dread sweep over Traven as the soldiers noted Barn’s tracks and all their eyes trailed along the road to where Barn was slowly walking away from them. In a flurry of movement, the Kingdom horses wheeled and started back their way in a single moment.

  Traven kicked Barn into a full run. His feet pulled up in the stirrups as he nudged his horse faster. The kid clung helplessly around Traven’s waist making the Captain’s efforts to move with Barn’s stride awkward. Slowly, Barn began to pull away from the soldiers. Traven heard the hiss of arrows launched in their direction. H
e cursed again. The kid was at his back, unprotected by the chainmail that Traven wore. Another arrow hissed closer. Traven veered Barn off the road and into the woods. With darkness falling, this was a dangerous move. He took a chance hoping to find a path that would not endanger Barn and lead them to safety and escape. An arrow hissed passed, striking a tree near Traven’s head as he ducked a low hanging limb.

  Another hiss. Traven sucked in a breath of pain. His shoulder burned. Traven kicked Barn forward. Barn artfully dodged around trees and quickly found a path through the woods leaving their pursuers far behind.

  Traven pushed Barn through the night. Circling and weaving through creeks and rocky high places, through busy crossroads and small towns. As the sun’s pale glow began to lighten the horizon, Barn started to stumble. The horse’s breaths came in heaving grunts. Traven pulled them into a covered rock cliff and allowed the exhausted horse to stop.

  The kid stumbled down and collapsed on the ground at the feet of the horse. His coat was pulled up and his stocking cap pulled low around his head. Traven dismounted slowly, careful to not land on the kid hunched on the ground. Traven cautiously moved his left arm clasped to his chest. He sat down hard on one of the large rocks.

  He kicked the kid on the boot to get his attention. “Come pull this thing out,” he commanded.

  The boy groaned to his feet and moved to stand behind Traven. The arrow was a short bore, only a length long. It had pieced Traven’s shoulder between the shoulder and the armpit. The chainmail of Traven’s armor had stopped a through penetration, it had only entered the muscle of his arm enough to bury the head of the arrow in his flesh.

  Traven looked over his shoulder at the arrow. “At least it is not one of the newer barbed ones.” When he saw the boy hesitating, he commanded again, “Get a hold of it then pull it straight out.”