Dragon Soul (Daughter of Shadow Book 1)

by LJ Swallow

  Leander steps forward, and the elf deftly moves away before appearing behind him. He spins around and side steps the blade that’s heading to his belly. The elf frowns and attempts to attack him again, but Leander skillfully dodges.

  “My friends will be here in a moment.” His words are barely out when the elf launches himself forward, sending Leander sprawling onto his back.

  The elf sits astride him, knee on Leander’s chest and sardonic smile adding to the malevolence. “Don’t move or you will watch her bleed.”

  His eyes widen along with his smile as he pokes at the pin on Leander’s cloak with his blade tip. “Oh. Silvercrest. What are you doing out here, little noble?” He presses his knee harder into Leander’s chest. “Tell me, why are you travelling with a Daughter?”

  “She’s not my daughter. How could she be?”

  Leander’s face remains impassive and the elf shifts to pin him by the neck instead. “You think you’re funny? You know what I mean. Daughter of shadow.”

  “If she is a daughter of shadow, why hasn’t she slaughtered you both?” rasps out Leander. “She’s harmless.”

  “Oh? Then why is a girl with a dragon in her company, travelling with men of such importance? We’ll discover why when we take her. You? You can die an ignoble death on the forest floor. The trolls will pick their teeth with your bones.”

  Trolls? My heart thuds hard against my chest, and I try to connect with the shadows from my mind two days ago. Nothing. The dagger remains against my throat, the blade warmed by my skin. The elf’s laughter at his friend’s actions sends air through my hair to my scalp, and I focus on what to do.

  A second horse appears in a flurry of hooves and dirt. Rohan; hair pushed from his face by the speed and angry determination on his face. He leaps down, and there’s no hesitation as he drags the elf from Leander and skewers him with his sword. I close my eyes against the scene as Rohan slices him from belly to chest. I’ve never witnessed savagery like this.

  The elf holding me drops his grip and hesitates. Not for long as Rohan flies towards him, bloodied blade ready. Swearing, the elf grabs my arm and slashes with the blade, before disappearing. I stare in horror at the large gash and the pain streaking through. The wound burns and I instinctively curl my fingers around, perspiration settling on my brow as the shock overwhelms me.

  I sink to my knees and the sticks scratch the skin. Falling forward, I steady myself with my other hand, and the stones dig into my palm. The pain from the wound roars through my body, faster than any I’ve felt before. My arm feels as if it’s on fire and I’m hit with a blackening dizziness.

  But I'm alive.

  I overbalance and my cheek hits the ground too. The earthy smell fills my nostrils, and I'm pulled back to a happy memory. I'm a child, playing with Lori, hiding in the long grass as the boys from school chase us. We giggle and shush each other. The sun shines above and my greatest worry in the world is a scolding for not returning home before sundown.

  Even though no grass tickles my face, today blurs with that day in my mind.

  Rohan was right. I’m a girl from a small town who has a lot to learn before she can fight new enemies in the bigger world around her.

  13

  GALEN

  Rohan picks Calla from the forest floor and drapes her over his shoulder as if she's a deer he's killed and is taking home to skin. Calla’s hair cascades down his back, arms dangling in unconsciousness, covered in dirt, and the makeshift bandage from Rohan’s torn shirt around her forearm.

  "Be careful with her," warns Leander.

  Rohan grunts and hitches Calla to redistribute her weight. "What do you want me to do? Lift her like a hero carrying his true love from crisis?"

  "No. I mean don't frighten or hurt her," he says.

  "Don’t worry. I won't drop Calla on her head." Rohan says with a grin. A sound nearby sets us all to alert.

  Nothing.

  "Where did her dragonkin go?" Leander asks.

  "Fuck knows. Maybe the elves took him," Rohan replies.

  “No, we killed them all, and there were no more nearby,” I say.

  “We? You were lying on your back in the dirt, Lea,” says Rohan.

  Leander’s face darkens. “We’re not all seasoned warriors. At least I distracted him from Calla. And I could’ve dealt with him, in my own time.”

  I shake my head. “There’s never much time with the Ebon. He saw who you are, didn’t he?”

  This was always a risk. Travelling with a member of the kingdom’s highest ranking family and one whose capture or death would be lauded by the Ebon. With Rohan as his unofficial bodyguard and me as one who can track enemies, Mara relented and let him travel. To be honest, he would’ve left the stronghold anyway if that were his intent. Silvercrest men are as obstinate as they are powerful. Nobody tells Leander what he can and can’t do. They can try, but good luck to them.

  My tracking skills failed us; I’m glad Rohan’s skills didn’t. Rohan set off on his horse after Leander once we killed the elves who ambushed us. I had no horse and instead scouted the area for more Ebon. We can all hide, seeking the shadows and blending until we surprise our enemies, and it takes an elf to find another.

  As I explored the nearby forest, the shock at seeing Jari wouldn’t leave. I did know him, many years ago, and was convinced he’d died. Once over we had a shaky alliance with the Ebon, but the elves’ natural thirst for power led others to corruption. The Ebon turned away from their brethren and Lumen are no longer allies.

  “I bet the dragonkin attracted their attention,” mutters Rohan. "We should've killed it when we had a chance."

  I throw out a laugh. "You don't value your eyes, then? Or your balls? The dragonkin would take your eyes and Calla..." I nod at the unconscious girl. "She'd separate you from your genitals."

  "Examine her, Galen." Leander points at Calla. "Did the blood make her faint or is she injured badly?"

  "Can we just get out of here?" grumbles Rohan.

  Calla's prone against his back, her long legs dirtied by the fight, scratches covering her pale skin. I gently push tangled hair from her face and place my hand on her injured cheek. I held her before, when we rode, and her small body relaxed against mine. Avoiding touching her would've been the better idea, because I was frightened what I might sense from her.

  Rohan and Leander said she never used her magic, and I’m confused why it didn’t trigger. There is much to learn about how the shadow works within a human soul.

  But Rohan could be correct. Is the dragon more than I thought? Some dragonkin were traded as exotic pets, poached from the woods high in the Eastern Highlands. What the humans say is true. They aren't true dragons, not one of the various flights who once lived within the world. Dragonkin are a weaker species, stunted and unable to measure up to their distant cousins.

  The dragon flights could shift to human form and disguise themselves, the way they did when they worked with the Ebon to corrupt the world and raze cities. The Ebon elves made their choice: join with their dragon cousins to conquer the king, or fight for stability in the world that they're part of.

  Humans and elves never mixed well, but when most of the Lumen elves were eradicated by the Ebon, my court had no choice. Their actions were abhorrent and we couldn’t stand by when the Ebon queen shrouded the world with her harnessed power.

  As with the Lumen elves, some dragons crossed to help the king against the darkness, but this led to a great battle waged between the dragons on opposing sides. At the Battle of the Flights, shortly after the Ebon queen began to rule, dragons slayed each other and their race died.

  All but a few who I’m positive still exist. Somewhere they slumber. How can such a powerful race be wiped off the face of the world?

  I reach out to touch Calla’s head and brush hair from her cheek. She’s pale and the way Rohan holds her is undignified. But she’s not seriously injured. My heart goes out to hers again, as it did the first night when I saw her frightened. But more
than my heart reaches out for Calla. Something within her fascinates me and connects with a different part of my energy from nature. The darker, baser side that the Ebon harnessed when they turned away from the benevolent magic they could use instead.

  Calla speaks to the shadow deep inside me. I don’t understand her, or what she is, any more than Calla understands herself. All I know is she needs my protection. I can help control her darkness, in the way I learned to control mine.

  And part of that involves keeping my distance from her in order to control what she arouses in me.

  "What's with the gooey-eyed look, Galen?" asks Rohan as he looks down at me.

  "You don't feel for her?" I ask.

  "Yeah, I feel for her. She's a dead weight on my shoulder."

  Leander chuckles. "Perhaps we should find somewhere sheltered and tend to wounds. Rest before we carry on."

  "No," Rohan replies sharply. "We stay out in the open. I want to hear and see if anybody else approaches."

  "I think they were a party of assassins," I say. "They will have travelled alone."

  Mine and Rohan’s horses never returned. We discovered Leander’s wandering nearby, his eyes filled with fear. It took most of my remaining energy to soothe the beast and persuade him back to us. Two of our packs are missing also, leaving us with meagre rations and little else.

  So, we tread through the trees with our single horse, back in the direction of the first deaths, where Rohan slaughtered the elves. The bodies remain on the ground and Rohan kicks one on the way past, snarling something in a low voice. My heart hurts that they'll be eaten by animals and not have the ceremonial funeral important to elves, but they made their choice.

  These elves turned their backs on their people when they joined the queen.

  CALLA

  I thrash my arms around as I wake, confused and certain I'm still beneath the elf who held my life in his hands. But I'm clawing at thin air and nobody touches me. I hear the cascade of a waterfall nearby and above me, blue sky, no longer the canopied trees that huddled together to hide the light and warmth. I touch my cheek and the skin stings beneath my fingers.

  "Welcome back, Calla." I turn my head to where Galen kneels beside me, his kind face filled with concern. "How are you feeling?"

  "Alive. Which is a nice turn of events."

  Nearby, Leander laughs. I turn my head. He stands a few feet away, hair mussed and face streaked with blood. "I like the positive angle."

  Where’s Rohan? He saved my life. I squint through the light. He tethers a horse to a nearby tree, close to water. A small river moves past us, almost silent. The shimmering sunlight on the water seems strange after the dark of the woods. Judging by the sun's position in the sky and the dropping temperature, evening draws near. I prop myself up—or attempt to—annoyed at how my weak muscles tremble.

  "Who were they?" I ask.

  Rohan strides over and crouches down. "The reason the stronghold exists."

  "Ebon," I whisper.

  "Correct. I guess that's what happens when we decide to take a trip through Ebon territory," says Galen pointedly.

  I sit and wince as my arm burns. I look down where blood has seeped and dried through a white cloth bandaged around my arm. The wound burns more than from just a cut, as if someone has poured salt inside.

  I struggle to stand and the wooziness causes me to stagger. Rohan catches me by the other arm and I steady myself against his chest. He's dishevelled, more like a boy from my town who's been fighting in the streets than a warrior from the Order of Lux. His face is slashed across the cheek and the broad hand around mine has been cut too. Dirt smears his face. My guarded heart opens up to him, the knight in not-so-shining armour who saved life.

  He loses the stern look and switches to gentle concern. "Are you okay?"

  "Yes."

  "How badly does your arm hurt? You're pale."

  I grit my teeth. "Bad. I’m worried I might be poisoned."

  He helps me sit on a nearby rock, a few metres from the slow-flowing river. He slumps next to me, head in hands, and the slash on his arm looks unlike any cut I've seen before. The wound's edges are blackened.

  "You don't look good," I say and reach out to touch his cheek.

  "You don't look great yourself." His lips curve into a smile and he turns back to the others.

  "You're hurt too," I say.

  "I'll be fine." But he isn't. When I look between the three men, I can see the difference in their faces. The others are pale, showing signs of battle, but Rohan's skin is tinged with green. My wound throbs and I don’t think the sick feeling is just from the attack.

  "Are we poisoned?" I ask him and he looks away, to his friends. "Galen?"

  "Yes. Ebon often coat their weapons in poison. Occasionally they pierce armour."

  "And with no decent armour, we're fucked if one stabs you," mutters Rohan. A sheen of sweat covers his forehead.

  "What kind of poison? I might be able to find some plants to create a cure or slow down the progress?" I half-laugh at myself. “If I had an apothecary to make one in. And if I made it correctly.”

  “In my experience, Ebon prefer slow-acting poisons. Gives them a chance to get information from people if they succeed in capturing them, before killing them,” says Leander.

  “Plus they’re sadistic bastards who enjoy watching slow deaths,” mutters Rohan.

  Galen is perched on another rock nearby. He rubs his eye with the heel of his palm. "I think it's a slowing poison. Weakens the muscles. Probably made from snakeroot."

  "Galen used to know one of the Ebon who attacked us, apparently," replies Rohan, lips thin as he stares back at him. “That’s how he knows so much about their choice of poison.”

  "I knew many who defected to Ebon," says Galen curtly. "This does not mean I have any connection. Do you think I'd hold the position I do at the stronghold if I did?"

  Rohan shakes his head as he leans forward holding his arm. "Maybe that's the whole reason you hold the position. A spy for the Ebon queen."

  "Rohan," warns Leander. "I won't accept you talking to Galen like that."

  I cross my arms and flinch as I knock the wound. Is the poison making Rohan behave like this? "For someone who's supposed to bring Light, you're very antagonistic."

  Rohan stares at me, mouth parted for a second before he regains his composure. "I'm a warrior, Calla. One who will defend against any threat to my kingdom and for which I will sacrifice my life. I made a mistake and misjudged somebody once. I will not do that again."

  "Do you mean me?" I ask. "Or Galen?"

  He pushes himself up from the rock and wobbles slightly as he clutches his arm. The other two men fall quiet.

  Leander walks over and examines Rohan’s arm. "This isn't an ordinary cut."

  “Our healers at the stronghold can fix this,” says Galen.

  I look back at Leander. "How far to the stronghold?"

  "A day. More than, now we're off-track.”

  "If we can make it to the stronghold by tomorrow, Rohan and Calla will be all right. I’m certain this type of poison won't kill quickly," puts in Galen

  "I’m concerned about Calla,” says Rohan. “My body fights this better because I have some resistance from being poisoned before. She may not.”

  "I can wait until tomorrow, if you can.”

  "You're brave for a country girl," says Leander with a smile. "I was unsure you'd be up to the task. I apologise for doubting you."

  "I don't have much choice do I? You abducted me."

  "Saved your life," Leander reminds me, face hardening.

  "Not this conversation again." Galen sighs. "Calla, it's up to you. I can find you both something for the pain. There are reeds that grow beside the river and—"

  "Where's Luin?" I interrupt. "Did they take him? The elves wanted him."

  "I'm sure they did want him," says Galen with a smile. "But as the Ebon were all dead when we left, I'd say 'no,' nobody took him."

  Leander stands and
brushes dirt from his backside. "We need to move onwards."

  He indicates the sky, where the sun begins to drop behind clouds streaked in amber and gold. If this part of the world is similar to mine, nightfall is merely hours away.

  I don’t want to leave. Not without Luin. "We only have one horse left," I say.

  "Mine." Leander smiles.

  "I'm sure mine will return," puts in Rohan.

  "Unless he's somebody's supper by now." Rohan glares at Leander’s response.

  I'm not a horse lover, but I’ve known some love their animals as much as their family. I can't exactly ride my little dragonkin, but if somebody suggested he'd been eaten for dinner, I'd be upset too. My mouth dries. This is a distinct possibility.

  I curl my fingers around Rohan's, and he looks down in surprise. "I'm sure he will come back."

  My heart aches as I see pain in his eyes, and I gently squeeze his large hand before pulling away.

  “Your dragon disappeared,” says Galen. “We can’t wait.”

  “He will find me again.” I push away the doubt creeping in.

  “We need to find somewhere to stay tonight since we won’t make the stronghold by nightfall, and I don’t want to travel by night,” says Rohan.

  "If I found an apothecary, I could find something to help slow down the poison, even if I can't stop it."

  “We can’t risk going to a town,” says Leander. “They will either be Ebon residents or, if not, somebody who’s under their control.”

  “Then what? Sleep in the woods?”

  “If we need to,” he replies.

  I shiver, not so much at the cool evening approaching, but at the thought of sleeping in a forest holding creatures and elves that could kill me. I doubt I’d sleep much.

  “But not here. Somewhere more sheltered,” says Galen. “I will track somewhere safe.”

  I bite back asking them to wait for Luin as we prepare to move on. I have trouble walking in a straight line thanks to whatever poison now courses through my veins and there's no question that I'm to ride on the horse.

  Leander is unscathed compared to Rohan, but takes his horse anyway. I protest that Rohan should take my place, but I'm hauled up and held against Leander, the way I was two nights ago when this strange world began to unfold. This time I rest back against him, seeking comfort from my pain. Is he as aware of my body as I am of his?