Dragons of Kings (Upon Dragon's Breath Trilogy Book 2) Page 8

  Bower watched me but did not rise from his hunched over crouch. “This seems a very bad idea.”

  I shook my head. “We’ll be through the worst of it soon. Right now we’re getting a mix of winds—cold ones from the north and they’re hitting the warmer currents from over the sea. It gets a little choppy where the two meet.”

  Which is why we don’t usually fly north over the sea, Jaydra added, her thoughts sharp and still unhappy.

  Yes, but this is a good lesson for Bower to learn! I held out my hand to Bower. “Come. Stand up.”

  “I don’t think that I can,” Bower said, still clinging to Jaydra’s spine.

  I grabbed his wrist. “How is any dragon going to follow you if you cannot trust just one dragon, and a dragon who is your friend? Now, if you don’t stand, your legs will cramp and when it comes time to land, you’ll end up falling off Jaydra’s back and that’s high enough up that you could end up breaking a bone. So get up!”

  I felt bad forcing him to do this, but my words worked on him. He nodded, turned his hand to grip mine and slowly rose to his feet.

  He lurched to one side as if his legs were cramping, and he almost stumbled back down to one knee.

  “Find your balance. Use your arms and keep your knees bent a little.” I kept hold of his hand. “It’s actually hard to fall off a dragon. Look how broad Jaydra’s back is, and look at all the spines and scales you could catch onto. Just take a breath and relax. Feel how Jaydra moves underneath your feet. You need to learn to trust your dragon will hold you up.”

  Bower’s face was still pale. And his one leg kept buckling. He leaned to one side, as if to compensate for that weaker leg and in doing so, lost his balance.

  “Bower, stand straight,” I shouted, latching onto his wrist so that now I held his hand with both of mine.

  He jerked upright, but his weak leg bucked and he slipped to the side and slid off Jaydra’s back, pulling me with him.

  Freezing wind howled in my ears. A thousand tiny flecks of ice bit my cheeks. I let go of Bower and tried to grab for Jaydra’s scales, but my fingers slipped, for she was as icy as the rest of the world. Spinning now, I fell through swirling, misty clouds.

  From somewhere just below me I heard Bower’s scream. Glancing down, I saw a darker shape. I rolled and spun myself and shouted out Bower’s name, but the wind whipped away my words.

  Jaydra’s thoughts burst into my mind. Can’t see Saffron, but Jaydra can smell.

  Through our connection, I felt how she was being buffeted by the mix of winds—the warm currents trying to carry her higher and the cold ones pushing her down. I didn’t know if she could reach me before I hit cold, hard water.

  The clouds cleared suddenly, and now I could see dark water below us, the waves capped with white. Bower tumbled over and over again. We’d hit the water like two thrown stones. If the impact didn’t kill us, those icy waves would.

  With a sudden pulse, my magic swirled from within me. Power tingled in my fingers, spread up my arms and burst into my chest like a blazing fire. The power 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 it had something to do with dragons and I had at least learned how to summon it. My hands moved in complicated patterns of their own accord, and power poured from my fingertips.

  I threw out my hands at Bower. A golden-green light erupted and wrapped around Bower, catching him. With a jerk, his fall slowed. The light pulled him to me, as if it was a rope that I could pull on.

  I spread my hands wider, turning the light into wings. We soared over the white-capped waves on my magic. The wind seemed to disappear as if we were part of it now, not separate and fighting it. We weren’t falling. Willing it, I changed our direction, and sped us forward. But I was already exhausted and knew I could not keep us in flight for much longer. The magic wobbled and the green-golden wings of light shrank. We dropped closer to the ocean.

  I can’t control it—we’re going to fall.

  Above me, Jaydra roared. She swooped down, catching us back onto her back. Smoke wisped from Jaydra’s mouth. I clutched at Jaydra’s spine ridges, and my magic evaporated, leaving my legs shaking and my breath rattling in my lungs.

  Bower righted himself on his saddle and asked, “What did you do? That was unbelievable.” He grinned.

  I crawled to my saddle and fastened my belt again, my hands shaking. Jaydra held her wings wide and steady, and swooped down to a lower height where the air seemed a little warmer.

  Bower shouted to me, “What were you trying to teach me again?”

  I glanced back at him. “Not to be scared of flying.”

  Bower laughed. “I don’t think much of anything will frighten me after that. That—that was magical flight. It makes sitting on a dragon seem easy.”

  Turning to face front, I hunched over and clung to Jaydra’s spine. I had wanted him to just try to stand up on Jaydra and walk on her back.

  Instead, I had learned something about myself.

  Could I repeat that same magic again? Could I summon it when I had need again?

  Jaydra’s thoughts slipped into my mind. All that matters is that Saffron saved Bower, and Jaydra saved Saffron. That counts a successful hunt!

  Dragons have a much simpler way of looking at things, I told her.

  Glancing down at my hands, I tried to will the magic to return. My fingers tingled and a glow spread over my skin, but it seemed as if I had used up whatever store of power I had. It would have to build up again. My hands had moved more of their own accord, as if they knew what to do while my mind did not. Why was it that I seemed to have to be in dire peril before I could even use magic?

  I had to find a way to strengthen my powers, to be able to control my magic when I wanted to use it, and not just hope that it would come to me out of desperate need.

  Part II

  Learning to Fight

  8

  Warning Signs

  On the third day of flying we spotted land. Despite the cold and my aching muscles, despite Saffron seeming to want to show me how dangerous flying was by almost getting us both killed, I was learning to love this.

  I was riding on the back of a dragon.

  It was like one of the old tales I had read, only it wasn’t some peasant boy who got to ride dragons. It was me!

  The dark oceans below gave way to a narrow beach and jagged cliffs. Far below I could see hundreds of sea birds trying to nest above the spray of the waves, suddenly disturbed by our flight. I would have thought by now I might have gotten used to looking down at the land from on high but it still felt fresh and exciting to me. I could see for miles, for what felt like a day. Below us was a patchwork of the light green of occasional, overgrown meadows and the deeper green of the wildwood forests. Beyond them came the river valleys and the mountains, their heads layered with snows. On the horizon I could see the distant shapes and humps of the distant northern mountains that I didn’t know the names of. I looked to my right, to the east where, somewhere beyond the horizon, Dragon Mountain and the citadel of Torvald stood.

  It felt like if I could peer far enough into the distance, I might even see my future staring back at me. It was a feeling of total freedom like I’d never experienced before. But we had to find a place to land, as Jaydra was getting tired. She barely beat her wings now, just letting the warm thermals carry her ever deeper and lower over Middle Kingdom.

  Pointing to a ribbon of gray that cut across the green land to the south, I called out, “Look there.”

  “What is it? A place to land?” Saffron said, glancing back at me.

  “No, that must be the Great Western Road. It is the same one I was travelling when I met you, and you saved me from that grim-bear. It runs right from Torvald all the way to the coast, or so they say.” It felt like that had all happened years ago, when in fact it was not that far back. I strained to see some sign or indication of my home city—the hearth fires or the great wall that sur
rounded Torvald. But I could only make out the peak of Mount Hammal, which now seemed far to the south of us.

  Saffron’s shout pulled my attention back to her and she waved to the north and frowned. “Do you have a clear idea of where we’re heading? Where the three rivers met on the map? It all looks different now.”

  She was right.

  The Hermit’s map had shown flat lines and marks on a paper. Now we could see snow-capped mountains and valleys that offered up winding rivers, forests of green and bright reds as the trees changed colors. But it was starting to make sense to me as I looked at the rivers that crossed the land and matched them to what I had seen on the map. I doubt I would have noticed the pattern if we hadn’t been flying, for the Hermit’s map relied upon an aerial perspective to make sense of the different colors and lines that represented hills or mountains, fields or forests. Looking down to a ridgeline, I glimpsed the silvered foam of a waterfall that fell into the river, and a lake nearby.

  I had the Hermit’s map in my pack behind me, but I thought I remembered the snaking blue lines of the river and the arrowhead-shaped lake

  “If the map is accurate, we still have a good way to travel up to reach where the three rivers meet, but we are closer,” I shouted.

  “Good,” Saffron called to me. “Jaydra needs to feed. And we should hike for a bit so she can ease her wings for a time.” Leaning forward, Saffron whispered something to Jaydra. The dragon angled her wings toward the lake and began a spiral down to a landing spot.

  Being this much closer to finding the Three-Rivers Clan left me wondering if I really could raise and lead an army. But I had helped broker a peace—I hoped—between the villagers and the dragons, and Zenema had asked for my advice in defending Den Mountain. But this seemed a far more daunting task.

  I’d known the dragons of the Western Isles—and the villagers had seemed a small group, far easier to approach than a clan that I knew nothing about. My stomach knotted, even though I kept trying to tell myself I could do this.

  Jaydra swooped over the tops of the trees, the wall of the mountains ahead of us, and I tried to push my worries aside. Jaydra skimmed the surface of a clear mountain lake, and the spray of water kicked up by her wings brushed my face.

  Jaydra’s claws dug into the water, splashing up waves. She settled like a swan landing, let out a breath that seemed to be one of pleasure, and paddled toward a rocky beach.

  I scanned the tall pines that lined the beach. We should be safe. We were far north of Torvald, probably a week’s ride by horse and much longer by foot. But that didn’t stop a trickle of fear sliding down my back. Enric had a long reach, and being back in Middle Kingdom meant we needed to be on guard against Enric’s army and his Iron Guard.

  Jaydra reached the shallows, and Saffron slid down Jaydra’s shoulder, landing with a splash in the lake.

  “Come on, hurry up,” Saffron called. She waded up onto the beach, her boots crunching on the rocky shore as she looked around. She pointed to dead branches bleached white by time that lay under the trees. “We’ll build a small fire and shelter it with rocks. We can stay the night. Maybe even snare a rabbit to eat.”

  I grabbed our gear from Jaydra, slid off and splashed into the shallows. The water was freezing, but clear enough I could see the bottom and the darting silver of fish as they flitted away.

  “How about fish instead?” I asked.

  Jaydra chirruped happily.

  “That’s a sure way to a dragon’s heart,” Saffron said. She headed to Jaydra and undid the straps to our saddles. We could use the blankets for bedding. Freed of the straps, Jaydra swam out to the deeper waters and began hunting for food, diving and resurfacing. I waded to the shore and glanced around, settling our gear onto the rocky shore.

  The ground near the trees seemed softer, so I looked for a place where we might sleep. Something not too closed in—I had learned a few things from Saffron. She headed to the trees and started gathering wood, talking as she did so. “We can follow the river to the place the Hermit spoke of tomorrow and fish in the rivers whenever we need to.”

  I nodded, still uneasy for some reason. Was it the lack of birdsong? Or animal chatter? It seemed oddly quiet, but Jaydra might well have frightened off any other creatures. Nothing seemed to be here—no huts, no smoke rising up from some woodcutter’s home. It was far cleaner than the city, the air crisp and clear. Everything seemed calm and peaceful

  And then I saw a skull on a stake.

  It looked to be a human skill and I froze. Saffron must have seen me standing still, one bag of food still in my hands. She glanced at me, straightened, and then followed my stare.

  The macabre sight stood at the mouth of a narrow path that wound from the lake and headed along the woods, toward the nearby river. I thought the message seemed clear—do not come this way.

  “Uh…Saffron, maybe we want to find another place to camp?” I told her. Glancing around, I could still see no sign of any settlement. But someone had posted that skull here. Or was this just a grave site?

  Still with an armful of wood, Saffron came over to my side. “Is this a usual thing for people of Middle Kingdom?” she asked. She walked up to the skull. “I didn’t spend enough time on the mainland to find out.”

  I shook my head. “This is not normal, but the king’s laws and his army might not stretch this far north. And that should make me feel safer, but given that skull, I’m starting to have second thoughts. This could be a cursed spot. Or a gravesite. Or…or we might want to take to the skies again tomorrow.”

  Saffron nodded and settled to building a fire.

  Even more uneasy, I spread out our blankets, but I kept glancing into the woods.

  Saffron soon had a cheerful fire going, and I sat near it, my hands spread to it, welcoming its warmth. We had dried bread and Jaydra brought a mouthful of fish to us, which Saffron cooked on long sticks she scavenged. Jaydra settled not far from the fire, the light glittering on her scales. It comforted me a little that Jaydra fell to sleep at once. At least she did not think any danger was near.

  I slept poorly that night, startling every time Jaydra shifted, dreaming of flying—and falling. Every time I woke, I fed a little wood onto the fire to keep it burning. We slept next to Jaydra and she warmed our backs, but the night grew chill, and I found more comfort in the bright orange flames that held back some of the night’s shadows.

  The first rays of light woke me again. Stiff and puffy-eyed, I stretched, rose and put the last of the wood Saffron had gathered into the fire. Dew had fallen and left the wood damp and it smoked. Saffron soon woke and that woke Jaydra as well. We filled our water skins from the lake and ate a little of the bread and fish. I kept glancing at the skull as if the jaw might move and it might tell us why it had been placed there.

  “Staring won’t answer your questions,” Saffron said.

  I glanced at her. She’d brushed and braided her hair and looked far more rested than I felt. But Saffron had always been fine with sleeping on the ground. I still missed my bed back in Torvald.

  Standing, Saffron started to gather up our gear. I moved to help her, pulling out the maps just in case we needed them close to hand. We soon had our saddles on Jaydra’s back and our food and equipment secured. “Just in case,” Saffron said. I nodded back to her. It seemed wise to be able to jump on Jaydra’s back to escape any threats.

  With one hand on her knife hilt, Saffron started up the narrow path, walking past the skull as if it did not exist. I hesitated only a moment and then followed, making sure to give the skull a wide berth.

  “How far should we follow this path?” I asked.

  Saffron shrugged.

  The thin track appeared to have beaten-down grass as if it was used infrequently—it would have been dirt only if used often. But the bent grass meant someone had been here recently. Ferns and other undergrowth choked the sides. I glanced back at the lake and saw Jaydra emerge from the water, gulping down fish before she pushed into the forest af
ter us. For so large a dragon, she was very able to move quietly, the brush of her scales against the trees sounding more like the wind that whispered through the pines.

  Having our gear on Jaydra—our cloaks, ropes, food and water—made the hike a little easier. But the path widened and became steeper, leaving me panting and my legs aching. I’d already gotten used to riding a dragon and not walking. “Are you certain we are going the right way?” I asked.

  “You tell me.” Saffron waved a hand at the trees and the mountains that appeared just behind the top of the pines. “On the island, all rivers lead to the sea and they always fall from the mountains down to the coast. It makes sense they will do the same here, so if we head upstream, we’ll reach that spot where the three rivers join at the base of the mountains.”

  I paused and glanced at the Hermit’s map, wishing I’d had a better education in map reading. My father had done his best, but my education had been more fitting to a noble, meaning I could read, write and do sums, but trying to figure out the map from here on the ground seemed far more difficult than it had from the air. The map seemed to indicate that we should search for a high meadow that would be surrounded by where the three rivers met. That was the spot marked with the Salamander’s sign of a stylized flame and two wings.

  But what if the Hermit’s map was in fact old and far out of date? My hands chilled at the thought. Might the Salamanders who had lived here moved on? What if the rivers had changed course? I tried to cheer myself by remembering the Hermit had told us to come here—that must mean there was still help to be had.

  Putting the map away, I followed Saffron.

  We hiked all morning and into the latter part of the day. The air warmed, for the sun was up and bright. There was still an odd lack of birds in the air or other animals. The only sound was our soft boot falls, the wind in the trees, and Jaydra’s soft swish as she made her way through the trees. I started to become bored, and to amuse myself thought back to what I’d read in the Compendium Atlas about this area.