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

  Blue sky. White sun. Cold air.

  Time seemed to slow. The pounding of my heart proved I was still alive even as it drowned out the haunting calls of the birds behind me.

  Below me the broad expanse of the Great Western Ocean spread out like a blanket. The distant islands seemed little more than dots in the distance. No ships rode the waves. The sea was flecked with white spray and I could even pick out the smaller shapes of the seabirds, which seemed the size of butterflies beneath me.

  How high up was I? Panic tricked though me. This was the highest I had ever dived from, only I wasn’t diving anymore. Looking around had caused my body to shift and turn. I started to spin and tumble. I was falling.

  With half a scream, I twisted and righted myself. I let out a whoop as I dove again for the water. Energy surged through me. I was like one of the great dragons. I didn’t have time to question why I was doing this as the water and rocks rose at me, faster and faster.

  What had old Zenema told me?

  The crashing froth of waves lashed into the rocky coastline of my island.

  Hands forward. Breathe. Be like the gulls.

  Zenema, the matriarch-dragon was always wise. Despite the years that lay on her, she could still dive as elegantly as any sea bird. I tried to shape my body as she had instructed, but the wind pulled my legs and my arms out of place. It tugged on the clothes Zenema insisted I wear and whipped my hair across my eyes so I couldn’t see where I was aiming. And there were rocks down there!

  Foolish child! A female voice rang in my ears and heart. A shape swooped down like an arrow out of the sun.

  “Jaydra!” I gasped out the word, but the wind tore it away. Flipping first one way and then another, Jaydra, the blue-green sea dragon, my den-sister, sought to match my dive. She was trying to save me. She was my closest friend and ally on the island. I’d grown up with her, and she even brought me food when I was ill. But could she save me now from my own foolishness.

  Blue skies. Grey sea. Black rock.

  I was falling faster now and almost out of control. If I hit rock, I was going to die. Closing my eyes against the onrushing sea, I felt for the crystal-clear moment within my heart I knew was there. It was the same feeling I got on the back of Jaydra, or when I ran as fast as I could. The power of the magic that coursed through my veins was always waiting to bubble up. I didn’t really know what it was or where it came from—only that, in some extreme situations, it could pour out of me. I had only moments before I would be dashed on the rocks below. I willed my mind into the trance, and my hands moved in complicated patterns of their own accord.

  Jaydra snarled and gave a low roar.

  My eyes flew open as power poured from my fingertips. A bolt that looked like golden light hit Jaydra squarely on the chest. Power erupted from my fingertips, blowing both of us apart. My fall became a slow arc away from the rocks, and Jaydra flew back, spiraling across the sea like a skimmed stone.

  “Jaydra!” I screamed at my sister-dragon seconds before I hit the water.

  Cold slammed into me, knocking the air from my lungs. Salt water gushed into my nose and mouth, bitter and chilled. I tumbled head over heels, every muscle straining and every joint aching.

  I knew Jaydra had been thrown across the waves, but in my mind I could see her with her leathery wings wrapped around her protectively as she plunged into the waters, sending up a wall of water in her wake.

  White water. Warm water. Pain.

  Jaydra-daughter? Saffron-child? Zenema’s voice rippled across my mind. The den-mother of the dragons that nested in the clutch must have heard our terrified thoughts. But I had other things to worry about. I rolled in the sea, fighting to swim, my lungs burning. At last I reach up to break the surface with one of my hands. Dizzy and hurting, all I could think about was Jaydra. Was she alive? Had I killed her with my uncontrolled magic?

  A shadow eclipsed the sun, and bands of soft iron wrapped around my torso. Claws the size of my thighs lifted me from the sea. Coughing and spluttering, I came out of the waves.

  ‘Saffron Flame-Hair, what have I told you about using your magic without guidance? Zenema kept on admonishing me, her thoughts stern and patient. She carried me over to the nearest beach. Jaydra stood on the white sand already, her tail still draped into the low surf.

  Zenema dropped me unceremoniously. Air rushed out of my lungs, and so did salt water. My mouth tasted like salt and sand and I felt as if I had just been through a whirlpool, but nothing was broken. When the ringing in my ears started to fade, and I stopped coughing up water, I looked over to where Zenema was nuzzling her much smaller daughter, Jaydra, checking that she hadn’t ripped or torn her wings. Water streamed off Jaydra’s bright, blue-green scales, and her golden-green eyes were near-closed with pain. My chest tightened. I pushed up on one fist on the sand and faced Jaydra. “I am so sorry. “I should never have tried to dive off the sea-cliff, I thought that I could use my magic to—”

  You thought to use magic you have never been trained in? Zenema’s thoughts came over to me in an even tone. She wasn’t angry, but I caught a blast of cold disapproval that made me wince.

  Having any dragon annoyed at you was scary, but Zenema was taller than a house, longer than the entire nearby human village, with each leg wider than some of the island’s palm trees. She had teeth as long as my forearm and silver eyes like sparkling mother-of-pearl. She was a rare, gigantic white-dragon. At this close distance, the fading sunlight caught every scale on Zenema’s face, brushing the white with a fiery red. She shone, always bright and gleaming. But I could glimpse signs of age—ancient scars of busted scales which had broken and fused or formed multiple mini-scales across her snout, jaw line and down her neck.

  “Zenema.” Crawling to my feet, I stood on shaky legs and bow deeply. “You are right. I almost killed us both.”

  Child. She sighed and her reptilian voice reverberating through my mind. Her thought-voice felt like sunlight in a drowsy afternoon in the clutch caverns. You know I care for you, bringing you into my clutch as if you were my own. But I feared this—your magic grows too strong. It pulls at Saffron and must be used. You become a danger to your den-brothers and sisters. Magic will control Saffron—and destroy all—if you do not first learn its secrets. Such has happened before.

  I couldn’t argue with her. My natural magic—what I thought of as dragon tricks—had been appearing more frequently of late and at odd times. Recently, I’d blown Jaydra off course and into a storm when I’d gotten frightened. And the last time I’d been angry, I’d flattened an entire stand of palm trees.

  I wiped a hand down my soggy, baggy trousers.

  I was becoming a danger to the only family I have ever known, and now—just like the human parents who had abandoned me—Zenema would want me gone, too.

  Saffron-daughter…you must be brave, and I know how brave you are. Zenema curled her tail protectively around me even as she stayed close to Jaydra. I could feel the warmth radiating from her scales. Was I not the one who found you in the cave, so long ago? You would not cry or mewl, but looked me in the eyes and I knew you would be special. When the other dragons hissed, it was I who snarled at them to leave you alone. Before you were old enough, I would find you riding Jaydra’s back as she taught herself to fly. I know the strength in you, Saffron—and know you must use all of that strength to master the magic inside your blood.

  “But how?” I blurted the words out, feeling childish and sounding petulant even to myself. “You just said it. I was abandoned in a cave by parents who obviously couldn’t care for me. They were probably afraid of me. How am I going to find why I have this stupid magic?” I almost stamped my foot, I felt so desperate. Almost, because one does not stamp at any dragon.

  The answer is in your blood, Zenema pulled me closer to her with her tail. ‘You must find where you come from. It is time.

  I looked at Jaydra, still snuffing sea water out of her lungs. What if, one of these days I really hurt one of the dragons? Z
enema was right. I had to go. I had to find out who I was, for my own sake if not for theirs. I nodded and wiped the salt water from my face. I wasn’t going to call it tears.

  Come. I will take you to the place where it all began. Maybe you will find the answers that you seek there.

  Zenema uncurled herself and leaped into the air as fast and agile as one of the forest cats. She swept me up in her claws. Below us, Jaydra chirruped mournfully, but she did not follow. I knew she was still hurting from her fall. Looking down, I saw the island forest swirled away, the greens and browns growing smaller as the den-mother’s powerful wings lifted me into the sky. I didn’t want to go back—but I had no choice.

  After we had flown a long distance, Zenema’s thoughts filtered into my mind. Humans, Saffron. You must go to where the humans live. There are many, many more of your kind out there. And not one of them wants anything to do with dragons. Her sadness over this lingered in my thoughts.

  Glancing down at the vast sea below us, I wondered about her words. More like me, and like those in the island villages? Why did they fear dragons like the island villagers?

  I had always known there were other humans. Jaydra and I had watched the sailors on the boats that were always coming and going to the islands. To me, they all seemed crude, loud, and noisy. Not true dragon-friends. There had been so much to learn about the forest that I had no interest in smelly, old boats or tiny huts.

  But now I started to wonder about them. What did all of those humans do? Who was their headwoman? Was she like Zenema?

  And why did Zenema want to take me to where things began—what did that even mean?

  The questions left me dizzy and uncertain. They left me wondering if I even belonged with dragons. Which was ridiculous.

  I had been with Zenema for longer than I could remember, and had been riding dragons for almost all that time.

  Of course, faint memories stirred. A crib…soft blankets…a woman’s voice.

  No. That was the same, old nightmare— of being a baby, of a house burning. That was no memory. Zenema had cured me of that horrible dream. A dragon had swooped in to save me in the dream, or so Zenema had always told me, and now there was no need to dream of such things ever again. Even so, I shivered and leaned closer to Zenema’s neck to let her warmth brush against my chest and face. And I ignored the fear nibbling at me that there really had been fire and humans and angry people…and a woman’s voice that I would never hear again.

  Some of my fear must have spilled into Zenema. She suddenly wobbled in her flight and wheeled down to a distant, shingle beach. I clutched tightly at her scales.

  Zenema landed on the beach and the rocks clattered under her claws. I slipped from her back. A wind blew cold off the sea and the sound of the waves was a low, hushed sound almost like a dragon’s breathing. Her thoughts came to me, soothing and calm. Here, child. I found you just here, on the teeth of a storm, wrapped up in the scrap of cloth that you still carry.

  My hand went to my belt and the pouch that hung next to my knife. I’d made the pouch myself, after those I’d seen all the island villagers wearing. It contained everything I had ever owned—a sewing kit that had been found with me and a scrap of cloth, threadbare and barely bigger than my palm. It was now only a fragment of the blanket I’d once been wrapped in. I’d used it over the years to patch clothes for myself, for Zenema insisted humans had skins that were too soft without coverings. I knew if I brought it into the light I would just make out the name picked out in gold.

  Amelia.

  I thought I could remember the smell of a woman’s hair; earthy and slightly fragranced with lavender. I hoped it had been my mother’s name and that she had left this with me so I might know her. I wanted to think she had not willingly left me. But the old anger and hurt rose, bitter in my mouth and a hard burn in my chest. My father and mother had left me. Amelia…my mother’s name is Amelia. And now I was even angrier at Zenema for bringing back to this spot.

  The beach stood empty, with sheer cliffs between us and the rest of the island. Just behind us, stood the cave—a shallow, high-mouthed cavern—where I had been left, over ten years ago. I put my back to the cave and stared out at the green-blue sea and the white foam of the low surf. “You think that until I find out about my human family—who I am and where I’m from—I’ll never be able to control my magic? That makes no sense. I don’t need to know where my magic comes from. I just need…” I let the words trail off. What did I need?

  I knew the answer but I dared not say it aloud. I wanted to hide the thought.

  What if I could find my parents—still alive and searching for me?

  Glancing down, I kicked at one of the smooth rocks on the beach.

  Zenema nudged me with her nose, urging me to turn and look toward the cave. I hesitated, but Zenema kept shoving, so I looked.

  It looked like any other sea-cliff cave—weathered, old and dark. The droppings of sea birds whitened the top of the cave, but the birds knew better than to fly near a dragon—I couldn’t see any of them or hear them now.

  The sun dipped lower in the sky and the light fell into the cave, slanting low and golden. Something odd stood out at once inside the cave’s walls. Lines in the rocks that had a moment ago seemed random began to take shape. “What is that?” I breathed out the words.

  Behind me, Zenema kept silent.

  I stepped closer.

  The light in the cave brightened even more. Curves and swirls took shape, and one stood out more than the others—an elongated arrow that I knew so well because I had drawn and redraw it again and again. That shape had been in my dream.

  Other shapes began to form in the slanting, golden sunlight.

  “Dragons!” I let out another breath. My heart was pounding now.

  These weren’t the dragons of the home island. Tall dragons and thin dragons, fat dragons and squat dragons had been carved into the cave walls. I knew they wouldn’t be the predominant whites and sea-blues of the dragons here on the island. They would be orange, green and even red.

  Stepping closer, I walked up to the cave and squinted at the images. They were starting to fade now as the light changed. But I could see something else. I put a hand on the carvings and traced the lines.

  Whoever had carved these lines into the cave wall had added human figures, riding dragons just as I rode Jaydra. But the carvings had two people on every dragon.

  “Dragon riders.” The words came out of me in a startled gasp. I turned fast to face Zenema. “Why did you never show me this before?” Zenema snorted. The time is not always now for everything.

  I rolled my eyes and waved at the carvings. “Don’t you see? This means that there are others like me. There are others who live with dragons. You said all humans fear dragons, but they don’t. So I really do belong…somewhere.

  Saffron belongs with Jaydra. The blue-green Jaydra settled onto the rocky beach. She shook herself and a slight tremor ran along her scales as if she were a bird ruffling her feathers. Head high, she stared at her mother.

  Zenema stared back, her gold-green eyes glittering. Her thoughts carried a stern warning. Jaydra stay away. This is Saffron’s duty!

  Jaydra snorted and a small puff of steam warmed the air. Jaydra and Saffron den-sisters. Where Saffron goes, Jaydra goes. Jaydra raised a foreleg and thumped it down on the rocks, which scattered, some skipping into the sea.

  For a long moment, Zenema looked at Jaydra. At last, her head lowered and she nodded. It is done then. Already bonded and become one as in the old days. Zenema turned her head to glance at me and it flashed into my thoughts that she seemed a little pleased as well as sad. The choice is made. None can stop you.

  My throat tightened. The breath seemed caught in my chest. The world was changing for me—I knew it. I could feel a new destiny tugging at me.

  I waved at the carvings inside the cave. It wasn’t just dragons and riders that had been carved here. Dragons flew over undulating lines that almost looked like tall w
aves. But I knew these were mountains.

  I pointed at one of the mountains—the tallest one that had been carved to show caves and smaller dragons, and what looked like the biggest village I had ever seen. “You think, Zenema, that I should find my own kind. Well, if I have a kind, if anyone knows about my magic, it will be at that place. I’ll go.”

  Jaydra echoed my words with a cough of flame and smoke into the salt-tanged air.

  Zenema nodded again. The magic inside Saffron is strong—let it lead where it must. Be safe, my daughters. But even more so—be wise and strong.

  Jaydra picked her way across the rocks and stopped at my side.

  We both glanced at Zenema as she took to the sky, her strong wings beating the air, leaving me clutching at my hair and Jaydra’s eyes glinting with tears. I knew in my heart I was saying farewell to all I had known—my heart thudded slow and hard and I almost wanted to call out to Zenema that I would not go.

  But I must.

  I had to learn about my magic.

  Even more so, I had to find the others who knew what it was to ride a dragon. I put a hand on Jaydra’s warm scales.

  All the questions I had about my past would have to wait. For now, we had to find a mountain like that carved into the cave walls. But where would we even start with such a search?

  2

  House Daris

  “Bower, you’re missing all the excitement. Don’t you know someone denounced Master Julian as one of those traitorous rebels?”

  I looked over to the other side of the lane. Vic Cassus waved me to come to his side, urging me to hurry. He was about my age, but broader in body and more cheerful in disposition. Vic had the sort of shoulders that should wear armor, frizzy brown hair and a man’s beard already sprouting. He would have better fit into long ago times when he might have been a general or a great dragon-warrior and not the scion of a failing house in an ever-diminishing city.