Dragon Soul (Daughter of Shadow Book 1)

by LJ Swallow

  The man swings his legs over and lands on the ground beside me with a thud. He seizes my chin and tips it, large thumb close to my lips. "Your death was waiting for you at the town gallows. I have better uses for your talents."

  I wrench my face away and step back. "Talents?"

  "Your shadow magic, Calla."

  "It's not my magic," I say. "I don't know what happens, but I have no control."

  The man looks down at me. He means me no harm. I don't know how I sense this, but I do. Am I fooled by his attractiveness? An evil man should have a cruel twist to his mouth, not a full, sensuous one that seems to fight smiling at me. Malevolent people I've met before had faces creased into sour looks that never seem to leave, eyes dull or suspicious.

  None of this afflicts him.

  "We can walk, if you prefer. The house is only a mile." He clicks his tongue at the horse, which shakes its head downwards. The man's attention shifts to the beast. His kind words and gentle affection for the creature adds to my certainty he isn't a bad man. They never show kindness to anybody—including animals.

  "What house?" I ask as the two walk on.

  "Where we're staying of course. We need to hide you, but I also need to meet my friends." I open my mouth to respond and question but he keeps walking. "My name is Leander."

  I search my brain. Never heard the name. "Are you a lord from another shire?"

  "I work for the kingdom."

  "Oh."

  He smiles at me. "Was that an impressed 'oh' or a disappointed one?"

  "Just an 'oh.'" I rub my nose and keep walking. "This way?"

  My thoughts are running in circles now, and this nervous energy is all that fuels my tired legs onwards.

  "Would you like to sit back on Ebon?" he asks.

  I blink. "Ebon? Nobody dare use that word."

  "I do. He's Ebon coloured."

  "That must raise some eyebrows."

  He chortles. "Says the girl filled with shadow."

  My blood runs cold.

  I catch sight of lights from a building at the edge of the forest, glowing dimly, just as the sound of horses’ hooves grow closer to us from behind. I turn. Two figures on horseback approach from the town's direction. Instinctively, I sidestep towards Leander, who places a hand on my arm as he stops. Guards from the town come to take me back to my fate?

  One rides a pure white horse with a golden bridle that shines in the night, with matching blinkers. Another horse carries a taller, slender man, his steed smaller and brown, but as sleek as the first. They pull to a stop and sit side by side, as they look down at Leander, their faces shadowed by hoods.

  "You left without us," says the man on the white horse. "Arsehole."

  "You took too long," retorts Leander. "I didn't know how much time we had."

  "We never knew you were coming to join us in town," replies the other. His is the voice I recognise, and when he drops his hood, Galen's long hair shines.

  "Yeah, why send us into the town for her and then step in and waste our time?" Rohan drags his hood down too, blond hair mussed and face thunderous.

  "Because you do as I say," Leander retorts.

  I chew my lip at the following silence. If the nearby trees didn't hold horrors more unspeakable than being stuck in the middle of nowhere with three men, whose intentions I have no clue about, I'd bolt now.

  "We're all together now," says Galen in calming tones. "Let's head to the house. Eat. Sleep."

  "And tell the dumb country girl what in the king's name is happening," I grumble.

  My biggest surprise of the day is when Galen takes my hand and says, "You're not a dumb country girl. And you're safe now."

  8

  CALLA

  The cottage is in good condition but not recently occupied—the place is cold, and there are no ashes in the fireplace. Leander strides through the place, opening and closing the few cupboards before stomping up the narrow stairs. Feet clomp above before he returns.

  "Not happy with roughing it, Lea?" asks Rohan with a chuckle.

  "I'm used to having food in my house for a guest," he retorts.

  "I'm a guest now?" I half blurt.

  "For now." Galen nods. "I'm sure I can find us something to eat."

  "Oh, crap, no. Don't wander into the woods and bring plants," complains Rohan. "I hate eating rabbit food. I'd rather starve."

  "Poor Rohan." Galen throws him a teasing look and unloads the pack he carried in. Reaching inside, he unwraps a white cloth and pulls out dried meats and cheeses, with a large bread loaf. He sets them on the table in the centre of the empty kitchen and flourishes a hand. "Rohan. Always ruled by his belly."

  "My belly does not—" He's interrupted as it growls loudly. I clasp my hand over my mouth as a laugh erupts, but Galen and Leander join me in amusement.

  Galen pushes the food across the table. "Perhaps once you eat, you'll be happier, lightbringer."

  He grabs bread and tears it with his teeth. "Only if you have mead too."

  A stone bottle is produced and set on the table. Following a cautious sniff, Rohan drinks heavily before wiping his mouth and setting it down.

  "Shouldn't we ask our guest if she'd like to eat first, Rohan?" scolds Galen. "And don't drink all the mead. Calla may enjoy some."

  I take some bread and pull a piece with my fingers. "I don't drink mead unless I'm cold."

  "Sensible girl," says Rohan through his mouthful.

  Leander sits on the edge of the table, and his pin catches the light, etched with a symbol I don’t remember seeing before. My three companions are a strange mix: a man from the Order of the Lux, an elf whose powers are hidden, and a nobleman whose name I don't recognise.

  Perhaps I should be more frightened with three than I was with one, but they seem more interested in whatever their task at hand is and not the girl with them. I’m defenceless, but feel safer than sitting in my cell in town. If I were their prisoner, they wouldn’t treat me kindly—and definitely wouldn’t share their food.

  "Perhaps you need to tell me what's happening," I say.

  "We need your help."

  I shake my head at Leander's words, as if I misheard. "I thought you helped me."

  "Ah, daughter of shadow, we may need your help more."

  I frown. "No, I'm not one of... those. My father is a respected sorcerer."

  Rohan laughs. "And your mother? Let me guess. Dead."

  "And your spinster aunt made the dress?" offers Leander.

  "No, my mother is not dead," I retort. "But yes, my aunt was sensible enough not to marry."

  "Sensible? Poor woman." Rohan sits on the table and puts his feet on a chair. "That's a sacrifice."

  "She has nieces and nephews and a large family."

  "I mean uh..." He scratches his nose. "Loneliness." I pull my brow together in confusion. He sighs. "Not having a man in her bed."

  I splutter. "Do you lightbringers think all women are pure who are unmarried? I know you're an ancient order, but that's ridiculous. She was just careful not to fall with child unmarried."

  Galen smiles at the confused shock on Rohan's face. "He's judgemental, yes. And a hypocrite. He has known plenty of impure women."

  "Judge me too, then," I mutter and pick at my meal.

  "For what?" asks Leander, the only one to catch my words.

  "Knowing men when I'm unmarried." I raise my eyes to the other pair. "Thomas did—he judged me as a cheap whore who should give him what he wanted."

  "What?" Leander's response is sharp.

  "A lowlife tried to assault her. We believe that's what triggered her magic," replies Galen.

  "Oh. That's fortunate."

  I gape at Leander as he pours mead into a wooden cup. "Fortunate? That bastard almost violated me."

  "No, Calla. Fortunate that he revealed who you were while we were around to help."

  "Which could still be a really fucking bad idea." Rohan swigs from his cup. “I’m not sure about taking her with us.”

  I'm
not averse to swearing. I'm lower caste and spend time around guys with foul mouths—and a few girls too. But this man is a warrior with the Order of Lux. Isn't he supposed to be more puritanical in his behaviour?

  Judging by tonight's conversation, that's a rumour.

  Silenced, I sit back in my chair and pick at my food in the most ladylike way I know, even though I'm bloody starving.

  "Are you tired?" asks Galen as I stifle a yawn.

  "Yes, but I refuse to sleep until I have questions answered. Who are you and where are you taking me?"

  Leander chuckles. "She doesn't let go of her questions. That's a good sign."

  "I also don't allow people to patronise me, lords or not."

  Rohan arches a brow. "Lord, Leander? You told her that?"

  "I did not," he retorts.

  "I don't care what or who you are as long as you just answer my bloody questions!" Okay, so the exasperated swearing isn't as bad as their language, but also not a surprise to them. Do they know other girls with mouths like mine?

  Leander pours four more cups of mead and gestures at me to drink, before sipping his own. "What do you know of the kingdom's history, Calla?"

  "What I was taught as a child—dragons bad, elves good and then turned bad, humans... complicated."

  "You have a dragonkin," Rohan reminds me. "Usually."

  Luin. Something has been missing round me this whole time, and in my strange state, I've not noticed his absence. At the mention of his name, this becomes acute. Luin is always with me—the only time in years I left him was for the tests and with a promise I'd come back to him. I didn't miss my older brother’s snicker that I spoke to him like he was human, but like all pet owners, I love Luin and his quirks. Although not so much his stroppy attitude and sharp claws.

  "Dragonkin are a different race. They've always been pets to elves and humans. He was in my family before ownership was banned." I smile. "Though I don't own Luin, he's his own dragon…kin."

  "And does he cause trouble often?" asks Galen.

  "He's harmless. Like a cat."

  "Uh. Yeah. Cats. Totally harmless with their constant slaying of small creatures and claws like shivs." Rohan drinks deeply.

  "Maybe treat them nicely and they won't shiv you?" I suggest.

  "Cats or dragonkin?"

  "Both."

  "I think we're headed a little off topic, Rohan." Galen places hands on the table. Leander is clearly their leader—self-appointed maybe—but I spot what they don't. Galen is the one really in charge; he appears to guide their decision to take me.

  Galen rubs a hand across his tired face. "Your corner of the realms is sheltered from much of the conflict, but eventually the elves will reach and conquer your lands too."

  "Elves like you?" I ask in confusion.

  "Do I look like someone who would be keen to conquer?"

  Leander claps his friend on the back. "Elaborate on the lore for our beautiful companion."

  His words, possibly teased, shouldn't make me blush, but they do, and I tip my face down hoping he doesn't see. A man as breathtaking as him calls me beautiful? The only time anyone has said the word before is while mumbling sweet nothings in my ear as he sticks his hand up my skirts.

  "There is a war, Calla. I am a Lumen elf and we once lived peacefully with the Ebon elves. As you know, the dragon flights lived mostly in the elven realms, preferring us to humans. The elves maintained a good relationship with the human realms and we respected each other’s separate worlds. Unfortunately, the humans weren’t as accepting of the dragons, often accusing them of waiting for the chance to invade. This wasn’t an unwarranted fear as the Ruby dragon flight once invaded and were defeated hundred of years earlier. Although that was hundreds of years ago, the humans never forgot.

  Everything changed when some of the dragon flights again insisted we take land from the humans and reign in their realms too. They promised us great power and the Ebon leaders made the choice to side with the dragons against humans. Few Lumen did and any elves who dissented were killed. The Ebon queen took power and a battle raged for years. The refugees, such as myself, joined the humans to help fight against the queen."

  The mead begins to fuzz my head and blur my school history lessons. "And the dragons? What happened to them? I was told they’re all dead now."

  "There are rumours the few dragons who opposed the Ebon escaped and now slumber," says Galen. "I believe this is so. When they wake, it will be to reclaim the land taken from them by the Ebon."

  "So shadow magic is elven?" I ask. "Is the queen?"

  "Yes, shadow magic users are Ebon elves. Usually. And nobody knows if the queen is elven or dragon." Three sets of eyes bore into me.

  I look at the mead in my cup and swirl it in a circle. My thoughts match the swirling. "There's nothing elven about me," I mutter. "Look at my body for a start."

  Rohan half-chokes on his mead, then wipes his lips. "I already did, and if either of those two deny they have too, they're lying bastards."

  I half smile, unsure whether to be objectified or flattered.

  Fine. Three guys and the implication they're all attracted to me... flattered.

  "We don't understand how shadow magic is within a few humans. Perhaps someone at the stronghold could examine you and tell us," says Rohan.

  "Stronghold? That doesn't sound much different to jail,” I reply.

  "The Silvercrest Stronghold? No. The place is a training ground for those who committed to fighting for the king. As you know, we have been recruiting magic users to help in the war. We think your skills could be key.”

  I sigh and hold my head in my hands. "I think I need to know much more about what happened in the world before I was born. My history books must've been sparse because I don't understand." I pause. "And the place you're taking me. I presume this isn't voluntary?"

  Rohan's drunken smile meets mine. "Sure. We can make it voluntary. Or Leander can return you to the lovely gentlemen who want to fry you at the stake."

  I scowl. “Actually, they'd hang me. Nobody is burned."

  Galen bursts into laughter again. "I think Calla has much to consider and decisions to make."

  "Yes, but it's a long ride back to the town that wants her dead." Leander's soft accent holds the harsh edge again. "And she's not going."

  "The only reason I'd return to Westdale now is to find Luin." I trail a finger on the table. "He’s connected to me. I'm worried they'll kill him."

  "I'm sure Luin can defend himself," Galen replies.

  "He should be with me. Luin is always with me."

  Galen and Leander exchange glances. "He will find you, if he wants to."

  "If he knows where I am, you mean."

  Leander stands. "Luin will find you, at your 'voluntary' new home."

  I blink. "Voluntary? I don't think that words mean the same to you as it does to me. I have to agree to come for this to be voluntary."

  "Which you will," puts in Leander. “What choice do you have?” His harsher tone silences my argument. This man definitely doesn’t like to be argued with. “Come with us and aid us against the Ebon queen, or return to your town and a death sentence.”

  I close my eyes. I need breathing space. "You gave me mead. I can't keep up with this conversation. Can I sleep please?"

  As I stagger to my feet, the three men watch, and I'm torn between annoyed they don’t help and happy they're allowing me to drunkenly stagger towards the stairs. I hope a bedroom exists up there—more than one bedroom. I stumble and land at the foot of the stairs. Great.

  "Leander," says Galen. "She needs help. You’re the nobleman."

  "I think you should go with her, Galen," he replies.

  "I'll take her," suggests Rohan.

  I drag myself upright and sway as the mead interferes. "Don't care. Just someone take me to bed."

  Leander chuckles. "Perhaps that's the wrong choice of words, Calla."

  "Stick your innuendo up your arrogant arse," I retort and manoeuvre my
self towards the stairs.

  Gripping the rail, I take a deep breath against the climb ahead of me and the inappropriate words I used to a man who saved my life tonight.

  The sparsely furnished bedroom holds a small bed covered with a brown blanket and a nearby dresser has a white washbasin on top. A small window looks out over the dark woods behind the building.

  What is this house normally used for? A stop for wayfarers between towns? A secret meeting place for weird men who kidnap innocent girls?

  Innocent. Ha. I chuckle drunkenly at myself.

  My dress is uncomfortable, but I'm not stripping naked. I unlace the bodice and wriggle the dress down. The material gathers at my feet, and I step out, still wearing my cotton slip.

  Leander stands in the doorway, captivated by my striptease. I glare at him. "Are you waiting for an invitation, or will you take what you wanted anyway?"

  "Pardon?"

  I place my hands on my hips. "Just because I told you all that I lie with men doesn't mean I will with you, just hours after we met, however fancy you are."

  His surprise switches to mirth. "Of course."

  But my drunken mouth has taken on a mind of its own. "Or is it because I'm an evil shadow daughter or whatever you called me? You'll need to excuse me if my evil powers trigger and burn your dick off."

  Leander steps into the room and runs a large hand across my hair. He stops short of cupping my cheek, but my body’s awareness of him is insane. This is the man who took me from my cell, self-assured and in charge. He has a presence the men in my town don’t have, which makes me doubly sure he’s somebody of importance.

  The intensity in his eyes flips my stomach as I remember how his body felt against mine when we rode.

  "I could take what I want but, unlike your friend in town, I’m only interested in girls who agree to lie with me,” he whispers against my ear. "I will wait."

  Leander’s seductive words push straight through my defences, and I have no doubt this man ever waits long for a girl he wants to agree. I stare at his mouth wondering how soft it would feel, how he would kiss me. Then I tell myself I’m grateful to Leander for his rescuing me today and that’s muddled my brain into seeing him as my hero. My hero who already held me tight against him and surrounded me with his domineering strength.