Dragons of Wild (Upon Dragon's Breath Trilogy Book 1) Page 9

  The bear reared up on its back legs. The man with the sword called out, “Attack!”

  The two soldiers ran forward, thrusting their spears into the bear’s mangy side.

  The bear swung a huge paw and broke one of the spears, slammed a paw at the other soldier and knocked him back.

  Roaring now, the bear spun and started into the woods, the soldiers all chasing after it.

  “We have to help,” Bower said, glancing around him as if looking for a way down from the tree. He looked pale and his hands shook, and about to do something stupid.

  I grabbed his arm. “Wait. Those are soldiers, and if I have learned anything of late it is that it is wise to know who is a friend before you offer anything.”

  His mouth twisted down. “Meaning, you jump someone first and ask questions later.” He let out a breath. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe those aren’t nice men. But they need help.” He reached for a tree limb to start down.

  I let him go.

  Listen to your blood, Jaydra thought at me.

  Zenema had once said that—but what did it mean? Muttering about stupid idiots, I followed Bower. I hadn’t gone through all this rescuing just to see him get into more trouble. My head still pounded and climbing took all my concentration.

  In the woods nearby, I could hear the fight—the bear’s roaring, the soldiers’ shouts and cries, the man with the sword calling out orders. And then it all went quiet. A moment later a shout went up from the soldiers.

  I grabbed Bower’s shoulder and fisted my hand into the material of his tunic, stopping him. My hands were starting to shake, too, now, and wasn’t sure just how much more rescuing I could do. “Bower, for now, we have to stay hidden—I’m certain of it. At least until we find out more about these soldiers. And it doesn’t sound like they need your help or mine.”

  To his credit, Bower glanced up at me and gave a nod.

  The smell of smoke rose in the woods. For a moment, I had no idea what that could mean, but Bower said, his voice low and rough, “They’re going to burn the body. They would only do that if that animal was diseased or something unnatural.”

  I frowned and tugged on Bower to come back up to a higher branch. “They’re coming back.” Bower climbed back up onto the thick branch where I stood.

  A gruff voice carried up to us, and I recognized it was the man with the sword talking. “...another this week. I tell you, Lichter, these monsters are getting worse, coming this far south.”

  Another voice, this one higher and younger-sounding, answered. “Grim-bears!” I heard the hack of a man spitting. “A plague they are. I’ve heard it said they’re magi—“

  “Watch what you say, Lichter.”

  The younger voice went even higher. “I’m just saying, they only really started turning after the king—”

  “Do you intend an insult to the king?”

  Glancing down, I saw the man with the sword face to face with young Lichter. The man with the sword had his helmet off and blood had spattered his armor and sword. Even from up in the tree I could tell that it wasn’t a threat the man with the sword was giving—he didn’t hold his sword poised for an attack and he leaned in close as if giving a warning.

  I was left wondering why these soldiers worried so much about what the king might hear from this far away from any castle or city.

  Is this the same king Bower seems to fear?

  From nearby, Jaydra asked with her thoughts, ‘Why would men with swords and weapons fear a king? All men can be killed—even a king.

  Yes, but kings are different, I thought back. Kings are like…. den-mothers. They are surrounded by others who will protect them and they have power.

  Jaydra seemed to think this over and thought back to me, den-mothers do their own killing. They don’t send out others to do it for them.

  You’re right there,

  The smell of smoke became the stink of burning hair and meat—the dead bear had been put on a funeral pyre. Below us, the man with the sword wiped off his blade on a rag and sheathed it. “We’re not here to chase grim-bears. What about those tracks we were following, Lichter? Didn’t the boot prints lead this way?”

  “They did, sir. After the traitor left the wagon he turned into the woods, met up with someone at some ruins, parted company and headed this way. By the look of it, he may have tangled with that grim-bear. Might even be in its belly by now and made into cinders along with the bear.”

  “Or he might not have”

  “Captain!” A new man came into sight, leading five horses. “Found this near the road.” He held up a knife. The blade glinted in the light and so did a silver medallion on the hilt.

  “That’s mine!” Bower whispered. I must have dropped it.” He didn’t sound happy about it—and I wondered what kind of idiot dropped his knife when he had a bear chasing him.

  The captain took the knife and turned it over once. “It’s marked with House Daris coat of arms. He came this way, right enough.” The captain glanced around, his eyes narrowed.

  Don’t look up, I thought to him and held my breath.

  He shook his head slightly. “To me it almost seems like…” He let the words trail off.

  I reacted the only way that I knew how—flinging up my hand, breathing out quickly through my nose, remembering how the dragons could convince the world they were not there.

  “Stay still!” I whispered to Bower. We were bits of branches and bark. Nothing but russet and yellowing leaves. Nothing but sky.

  The captain glanced up, and I could feel his gaze sweep over us. He stared straight through us and past. For a moment, he frowned and narrowed his eyes. I knew my trick was weakening. I held my breath.

  He flipped the knife in his hand, catching it by the hilt. He tucked it into his belt. “Back to the road. We may pick up fresh tracks there or some sign of where this traitor has hidden himself. If nothing else, we may find some other rebels to arrest and take back to the king. If we fail in that, it’ll be ourselves thrown into prison.”

  The captain gave orders to mount up and the soldiers rode away, single file, leaving behind greasy smoke, their horses pushing a path through the trees.

  I looked at Bower. His face seemed very pale but he managed a shaky, lopsided smile. That, however, wasn’t making me happy with him. I stared into his dark eyes and told him, “Whatever you did, friend, it was bad enough to have those men chasing after you. So why did they call you a traitor?”

  8

  Decisions

  The sound of the soldiers’ horses, cantering down the road, faded away. Swallowing hard, I stared back at Saffron. Could I really trust her? She had saved my life just now—but she had also threatened me.

  I lifted my chin. “And whatever you just did…it wasn’t natural. Those soldiers looked straight at us. I even felt that captain’s eyes connect with mine, and then his gaze slid off as if his mind—or something else—had told him that he saw nothing.”

  “What did you do?” I asked again.

  Saffron simply slid off the branch, catching the next one down with one hand, allowing her weight to swing her to the next branch after that. She landed lightly on the ground with a small thump. She moved like something out of those old books I had been reading. I glanced down. It seemed a very long way away. Gingerly, I eased myself off the branch and got the tips of my boots onto the one beneath me.

  Feeling more confident, I leaned over to wave at Saffron, to make it seem that I must climb up and down trees all the time.

  The soft sole of my boot slipped. I grabbed for a handhold, caught a slim branch that cracked and snapped. I crashed down, hitting one of the larger branches with my shoulder. The limb creaked but I managed to snag a handful of leaves. I kept sliding. The smell of sap bloomed. The leaves came off in my hand, and I fell again and landed on my back on the forest floor with a painful thump.

  Saffron stood over me. “That’s a funny way to climb down from a tree.” She offered me her hand.

  I waved her
away. “I’m fine. You must have weakened the branch when you were coming down.”

  She scowled at me, snatched her hand back and turned away to walk toward the road.

  “Wait! I’m sorry.” Getting up, I hurried to catch up with her and snagged her sleeve. “And… thank you.” Leaning down, I swatted at the worst of the dirt and leaves that clung to my breeches and tunic. “For saving my life. Twice now. Those uh, those guards—”

  “Didn’t seem as though they liked you.” Saffron had stopped walking. She put one hand on one hip and looked up, muttering, “Where has she got to now?” She turned, heading for the road—or where I thought the road was—once more.

  Looking around, I could see black smoke rising up in a column above the trees from the fire the soldiers had built. I was going to hope they knew not to set the woods ablaze—Byers and even Saffron had built their fire in a ring of stones. Birds were slowly drifting back—I could hear their wings fluttering, but couldn’t see them. I decided to catch up with Saffron, I turned and strode after her and asked, “You’re looking for your steed? Are you sure it didn’t run away? Maybe the grim-bear—”

  “My steed?” Saffron smothered a laugh. “She would hate to be called that. But my steed, she never strays too far, but she is very willful.” She said the last two words loudly, as if speaking not to me but to some invisible companion.

  “Look—uh, I mean it. Thank you.”

  Saffron paused and glanced sideways at me. “You were in trouble with that bear. And those soldiers didn’t seem to be the nicest men I’ve met.”

  “Well, you did a lot—and you didn’t have to.

  She gave me another look, her eyes bright and her hair almost a halo around her face.

  There was something about her that left me uneasy. She was almost like a force of nature—like a storm about to release bolts of lightning. She charged the air around her as if she was a vivid, red-gold cloud. “What you did back there—that was magic, wasn’t it?”

  She looked away, clapped her hands and gave one, sharp whistle, calling for her steed, I would guess.

  I stumbled over a bare root, hopped a step, and told her, “I knew it. Magic!”

  Saffron didn’t look at me, but a fresh flush of pink bloomed on her face. “Did you hit your head when you fell out of that tree?”

  “It all makes sense now. Why you were so cautious when I wandered close to your camp…why you attack me. I’ve …” It was my turn to fall silent. I left my mouth hanging open and my face heated.

  Could I tell her I had read the old sagas?

  She already knew I read books about dragons, but the rest of it—she could be tried for just knowing what I knew.

  “I’ve read books,” I said quietly. “But I never ever thought magic could be real. I thought the world had lost it all.” I glanced around. “My books—I dropped them. I’ve lost them.”

  We had reached the edge of the woods and stepped out of the shadows of the trees and into fading sunlight. I hadn’t realized so much time had passed.

  Saffron faced me and poked a finger into my chest. “You’re not just delusional, you’re careless. Books like that have to be worth a fortune. You shouldn’t even be allowed out.”

  I spread my hands wide. “Okay, then how did you snatch me up like that into the tree? You didn’t have a rope—you don’t have one now. That was magic, too. I felt something around my chest, I remember flying through the air, and suddenly finding myself in the tree, next to you. If that wasn’t magic, what was it?

  “I’m not some kind of witch.” Saffron said, a note of threat to her voice. She took a step closer to me. “So just stop it.”

  I couldn’t stop. I knew I was close to the truth. “I’ve read about such things. Where did you learn it?”

  Turning away, Saffron shook her head. Her shoulders slumped and her hands fell to her sides. “I—I didn’t. It’s just…” She let the words trail off and waved a hand.

  “It just comes to you. Of course. That makes sense. I’ve read about some people who were born with special abilities, and others had their magic manifest itself in later life. But it always had something to do with dragons.” I tapped a finger on my lips and tried to remember. “Some families have inherited special traits because their ancestors were great dragon-friends or there is a blood connection to dragons in some deep way. Isn’t that how the old stories always go?”

  She glanced at me and hunched a shoulder. “You’re asking me that? I don’t even know the stories you’re talking about.”

  I looked around again. I could see the road, but no sign of my bags and I couldn’t remember where I had dropped my things. “I wish I had my books. I might be able to look a few up for you. There’s only scattered bits of information, of course. So much has been lost over the decades, and it seems to me that no one has ever conducted a thorough study. You mention dragons these days or magic and it’s either prison or worse for you. It’s just so frustrating—but if I had my books, I—”

  The rustling of trees behind us interrupted me. Jumping back, I almost fell. I staggered away from the trees. Was it another grim-bear or had the soldiers returned, sneaking up on us from the woods?

  Turning to look into the tall trees, Saffron spoke to someone I couldn’t see. “There you are.”

  I peered into the shadows between the pines and oaks. I could still hear branches snapping. Trees swayed. For an instant the trunks seemed to blur, and become a massive, blue-green scaled leg with long claws.

  No! What?

  I shook my head, squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again. This time I saw Saffron’s impossibly large horse calmly stepping out of the trees with one of my bags around its neck and the handle of my satchel of books gripped in its mouth. The horse swishing its tail almost as if pleased with herself.

  “She has my books…my things.” I stuttered the words. Just how smart was Saffron’s horse?

  Scowling, Saffron crossed her arms over her chest. Her horse pranced a few steps closer. I couldn’t blame the horse for being nervous, so close to the funeral pyre of a grim-bear. I grinned, delighted to see my books again. Apparently, Saffron wasn’t so pleased.

  “Well yes, thank you very much, I did sort it all out on my own,” she snapped. What she meant was beyond me. Saffron nodded to me. “Him? Oh, you were right. He’s a bit daft, but—” “Excuse me!” I straightened and pushed back my shoulders.

  Saffron glanced at me. “Are you going to tell me it was smart to lose your knife? Or to get into the path of a grim-bear?”

  “I didn’t put myself into the path of anything, and if you’re running for your life you tend to drop everything.”

  The horse gave a snort and dropped my books. Going over to her, I picked up my satchel. I reached out to pat its neck, but the horse danced away from my touch. I noticed how its eyes seemed strangely colored for a horse, with flecks of gold and a glinting green in them. Bumps rose on my skin. There was something here I wasn’t seeing.

  I’d had this feeling before. In fact, over the years I’d often gotten an odd sensation of something being wrong. Of late, it had gotten stronger. Now, the hairs on the back of my neck rose. My head ached. I shut my eyes, hoping the sensation would go away, but it clung to me like a wet cloak hanging off my shoulders. The world seemed blurry.

  Saffron was saying something. I looked at her and saw that she had taken my bag off her horse’s neck.

  Jaydra.

  The word popped in my head. I frowned over that. “She’s just a horse,” Saffron said, finishing whatever she had been telling me.

  I nodded. “Of course, I just haven’t ever seen any horse quite so large.”

  “You said you knew I’m not from around here,” Saffron said, somewhat indignantly. “We hail from the isles to the west of here. Far, far west.”

  “The Western Isles. Yes, I know of them. King Enric maintains there is little more than savages out there, and that half of the things said of the isles is nothing but myths.”

>   Saffron rolled her eyes. “So I’m a myth now? Or a savage? Or a savage myth?”

  “Well, not a complete one—but you did jump me. Is that why you know magic? Does everyone in the Western Isles know magic?” I asked, a little breathless over such an exciting idea.

  “What? No! And it isn’t magic. Well, not exactly. It’s just, tricks. Ways of seeing and doing things.” Saffron pulled a face, her mouth tugging down. “And, no. No one in the isles can do what I do, or not many anyway.”

  She glanced sharply at her horse as if the horse had said something. The two locked stares. Saffron lifted an eyebrow, and the horse tossed its head as if it had found something to be funny. Was that even possible?

  Looking at me, Saffron asked, “So are you still intent on going your own way?” Saffron nodded at the road.

  I followed her stare. I had no idea which direction the soldiers had taken. And I had no idea if they would come back this way again. Next time, I might not be quite so lucky as to avoid them.

  I gave a sigh.

  The air still smelled foul from the smoke. A touch of rain hung in the wind as well. And the simple fact was that Saffron had saved my life. I owed her a great deal. I also could not resist the idea that she had used magic.

  Perhaps it was nothing like the magic mentioned in books, but here was a chance to find out a few truths for myself.

  Hadn’t I had fled the city determined to discover the truth of the world and here I was standing right next to someone who knew magic. Or tricks as she called them. If magic existed, why not dragons, too?

  I started to smile, but another thought occurred to me. Was Saffron really a dangerous rebel who did have some tricks?

  Well, if she was, I was a dangerous traitor as well.

  Shifting my hand to take a better grip on my satchel of books, I said, “I’m coming with you. You will never even get into the city gates without being arrested. The least I can do for you is guide you to Torvald.”

  My stomach knotted at the very idea I couldn’t believe I had just agreed to go back to my home. On the other hand, if the soldiers were outside Torvald searching for me, perhaps inside the city walls might be the safest place for me—the place where I was not expected to be. I would just have to hope that proved to be true.