Dragon Master (Dragon Collector Book 2)

by Simon Archer

  “You were always a better spy than you let on,” Alona said without looking at me directly.

  I offered her a shrug in response. “I needed to see how he was doing.”

  “I as well,” Alona admitted, “though he should ace this no problem.”

  “I would hope so,” I said with a scoff, “or all of our training will be a waste.”

  “It cannot have been a complete waste,” Alona said with a quirked eyebrow. “You obviously have spent a lot of time together.”

  I raised an eyebrow and tried to decipher Alona’s odd comment.

  “You spend time with him too.” I tried to brush her words off without giving too much away. Martin had specifically asked that we tell no one about our relations, though if it were up to me, I would shout it from the rooftops that I was sleeping with the most amazing man in the kingdom.

  “Yes,” Alona said the word slowly, “though you see him more often, do you not?”

  “What are you asking me?” I kept my casual stance even though I looked over and met Alona’s eye.

  I blinked a bit and had to clear my vision. I could not believe the moisture clouding my sight. Was I crying? No, I dabbed at my eyes and noticed that drips of sweat had gotten in there. I wiped it away.

  “Am I not being clear enough for you?” Alona challenged.

  “No,” I answered plainly. “That is why I am asking you.”

  “Obviously, it is something touchy,” Alona griped. “I mention one thing, and you start sweating profusely.”

  At the mention of the sweat, I felt the heat all over. The droplets ran down my temples and the center of my back before pooling behind my knees. A sense of discomfort overwhelmed me, and I closed my eyes in an attempt to refocus. The minute I did that, however, I lost my balance. Luckily, I was leaning against the pillar, but I still wobbled some, enough for Alona to come to my aid.

  “Diana,” her voice rang out, louder than it should have been in my ears. “Diana, are you alright?”

  “I need to sit,” I proclaimed, letting my knees bend and bringing me to the ground.

  Alona carried me there, and we sat upon the ground together.

  “You are warm,” Alona said. “We need to get you to the infirmary.”

  “No.” I clutched the front of Alona’s shirt and brought her closer. “We cannot. Take me to my chambers, to the Zoo, anywhere else but the infirmary.”

  “You are ridiculous,” Alona muttered. “They can help you in the infirmary.”

  “Please, Alona,” I begged. “I do not want to deal with the nurses. It is a small illness. I will overcome it soon.”

  “Diana,” Alona said, her voice hard and stern, “we need to check if you are corrupted.”

  “I cannot be,” I whispered, shock coating my throat. “Hennar made the deal with Martin. He said he would not corrupt anyone else until the first snow.”

  “Do you trust that false king?” Alona questioned, already knowing my answer.

  I didn’t bother to respond. We sat together, me leaning against the stone, shivering as Alona crouched by my side. She rubbed both hands over her face. I could hear her mind reeling with options and possibilities. The caretaker looked about the courtyard, seeking inspiration. Finally, she huffed out a breath.

  “I have an idea, but you are going to have to stand with me. Can you do that?” Alona asked.

  I nodded, determined to get my weakened self out of this public setting. I could not bear to have anyone see me like this. My ego was already struggling with Alona being witness to the whole ordeal.

  My friend lifted my arm over her head, tucking her shoulder under my own in order to alleviate most of my own weight. We rose together and shuffled along like a limp horse. I could not recognize at first where we were going as my vision kept weaving in and out. Suddenly, the whole thing shrunk to a black dot and blurred the rest out.

  My limbs went limp and collapsed beneath me. I had the briefest thought to warn Alona, but the words would not come. Robbed of my voice and my movement, I fell into a bright white space.

  The light blinded me, and I blinked several times, allowing my vision to adjust. It was stark and jarring, the sight of this blank room. Yet it was not so much of a room as there did not seem to be edges or walls. While the space did not have dimension, it did have a presence.

  My body did not appear as tired as it had moments ago, so my natural defensive instincts kicked in. I jumped to my feet and lifted my arms with closed fists, knees bent as I prepared for the next attack.

  The figure which I recognized as a slender man in black robes recoiled and held up his hands in surrender.

  “Settle, woman, settle,” he encouraged in a deep voice.

  I did not settle. If anything, I tightened my muscles like a coiled spring. In response, the man lowered his hands and planted a frown on his face.

  “Such defenses are useless here,” the man informed me. “Believe me, you can relax. You should not spend your last moments so tense.”

  The words gave me pause. “What do you mean ‘my last moments?’”

  “She speaks!” the man said as if it was a huge accomplishment. “Don’t you know you’re dying?”

  “Not if I can help it,” I said defiantly.

  “I don’t believe you have a choice,” the man said without a hint of pity or solemness. “You’re corrupted.”

  “I cannot be,” I protested. “Hennar made a bargain. He swore no one else would get infected!”

  “I am not responsible for anyone who was infected before the agreement,” the man said with a simple shrug.

  I stopped then and stared at the man before me. A burst of rage flared in my chest. That quickly translated to my muscles propelling forward and surging for the man who I now knew to be Hennar. I bolted for him and was met with a wall of black.

  The substance held as solid as stone and threw me back into the air. I soared up and away from Hennar, landing firmly on my side. I coughed as the breath knocked out of me. I wheezed and could feel a sharp twang in my chest. Slowly, I sat up and growled at Hennar.

  “I am sorry, really I am,” Hennar admitted, “I never want to make this process any more painful than it needs to be.”

  “I highly doubt that,” I murmured. It was still difficult to catch my breath. It was as if the very air had thinned.

  “I do intend to keep my promise,” Hennar said, changing the subject. “I told Martin that I wouldn’t corrupt anyone else in the meantime. I am sorry that you are a technicality. I think he will be sorry to lose you.”

  “Why am I here?” I asked, the question surprising even myself. “No one has met you but Martin. You have not spoken to any other contaminated people, so why me?”

  “Honestly?” Hennar considered with an exaggerated frown on his face. “I don’t know. I consider it a blessing.”

  “A blessing?” I spat out the word like a curse. “How?”

  “Because I will keep you here until you tell me something useful about Martin,” Hennar said with a wicked grin. “You only have to answer a simple question, and then I will let you die in peace.”

  “You will get nothing from me,” I growled. “You can keep me here as long as you like, but I will tell you nothing about him.”

  “Death does not scare you?” Hennar asked gently.

  I closed my mouth dramatically, signaling to the false king that I would not utter any more words.

  Hennar sighed and waved his hand. A chair appeared beneath him, and he sat as if the simple wooden thing were a throne. He crossed his legs and leaned forward, resting an elbow on his raised knee. Then he placed a chin in his hand and looked at me curiously.

  “I promise it is a simple, single question,” Hennar offered. “I have lots of time.”

  I shook my head, defiant as ever.

  “I don’t mind a one-sided conversation,” Hennar said. “It is not my preference, but I can adjust. Martin is an interesting man, isn’t he?”

  I closed my eyes and foc
used on my labored breathing. The dizziness returned, so I had to open my eyes and continue looking at Hennar and his annoying smugness.

  “Yes, you agree,” Hennar assessed. “I think you find him very interesting, but for different reasons than I do. Though I can see how you think so, I can appreciate his attractiveness. He is an admirable choice.”

  I tapped into my training, tried to maintain my self-control as he poked and prodded at my feelings for Martin.

  “He must be an unusual one,” Hennar said with an absent air. He took several steps toward me. “Still adjusting to your customs and way of doing things, is he not?”

  However, I didn't quite hear all his words. I was too busy watching his feet as he lazily approached. The nearer he got, the more composure I lost. I did not know how this false king worked and how powerful he was. I could not afford to let him touch me. If he did…

  I shuffled my lame self away from him, but the movement was enough to give Hennar pause. He stopped, then his eyes examined me from head to toe.

  “Are you afraid of me, guard?” Hennar asked like a child asking their parents why the sky is blue.

  “You would like that, wouldn’t you?” I replied, unable to hide the wavering in my voice, but it was not born of fear. I would gladly have stood up and kicked his ass, but with my bruised, possibly broken ribs, and the raw power from that blast, I was admittedly cautious.

  After all, I needed to protect myself, not only for the sake of my injury but because of the effect of my hidden gift. Normally, with how it worked, I had to allow it to manifest, but something told me Hennar was powerful enough to bypass my consent completely.

  Hennar licked his bottom lip and crouched low. He stayed on his feet but examined me like a foreign animal. His head tilted this way and that as his eyes roamed all over my body.

  I felt violated by that look. The way the curiosity lit up his eye sent shivers throughout my body.

  Then Hennar reached out his hand.

  Immediately, I recoiled. I shuffled away, pushing myself further away from him. My face hardened with determination, and my breathing increased tenfold. My heart thumped in my throat as I watched the false king continue holding out his hand, like an abandoned handshake.

  He looked from his hand to me and back again. The curious glare transformed into one of triumph, and I knew that I’d revealed too much. He knew what I could do, or at least knew enough of my weakness to use it against me.

  “Am I not allowed to touch you?” Hennar wondered, though he already knew the answer.

  “I would not advise you to try it,” I warned, trying to sound fiercer than I felt.

  “I see,” Hennar said as he rose to his feet. He approached me, and I tried to scramble away, but my shuffling couldn’t match his steady stride. He was at my front in a matter of seconds. Hennar stood above me, casting a lengthy shadow across my face as he held out one single, taunting finger.

  “Tell me about Martin, and I promise not to touch you,” Hennar threatened. “If you do not answer me honestly or choose not to answer at all, we will see the truth of why you are so afraid.”

  For the first time since entering this space, I met eyes with the false king. His were as black as the robes he wore, with only a hint of gray. He was all angles and joints. Something about him seemed ghastly and unhealthy in his own right, but he had control over his darkness that rivaled only Martin's relationship with the light. There was a reason I hadn’t told Martin about my gift, and it would be the same reason I refused to tell Hennar. The consequences were too dire, too insurmountable.

  After weighing the options, I nodded at Hennar. “You may ask your question.”

  “I think that after knowing this, I may be asking more than one,” Hennar said with a smirk. He wiggled his finger for emphasis. “Something has you very worried, guard, and I would very much like to know why. However, since you are destined to die soon, I will settle for whatever information you can give me about Martin.”

  I clenched my teeth and snarled. “Ask your damn question then.”

  “Do you know where he’s from?” Hennar asked.

  The question was so casual that it caught me off guard. I took a minute to think about it, to analyze the order of his words, trying to find some sort of secret meaning, but I couldn’t.

  During my contemplation, Hennar crossed to my side and sat next to me. A reminder that he was never very far away, always close enough to touch me.

  “Did you hear me?” Hennar checked.

  “Yes,” I answered blankly, “but I am afraid I do not know. He never speaks of his past.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” Hennar said. “You must know something of his origins. He is not from court, nor knows anything about the ways of Insomier. It is entirely possible he is from a different continent, but there are too many foreign things about him, yes? You have noticed them too.”

  “When we first met,” I said, reaching into my memory, “he said he was from a different world.”

  “Ah,” Hennar mused. “Go on.”

  “He traveled here from another world that is very different from Insomier,” I recited, like reading from an ancient text. “It has different technologies and beliefs and seems to be much larger than Insomier.”

  “I see,” Hennar said with a nod. “What about his family? Or his past in general?”

  “These are odd tactical questions,” I commented offhandedly.

  “Maybe to you,” Hennar responded, “trained as you were, but the answers to these questions will really help me. So, if you please?” Hennar held out his hand, indicating that I should continue. It was almost as if he was serving me something on the platter when, in reality, I was the one serving him with information.

  “I know he lost his parents,” I recalled, inching farther away from Hennar as I spoke. “He does not seem to have any other family.”

  “Typical,” Hennar muttered.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “None of your concern.” Hennar waved away my question.

  “Anything regarding Martin is my concern,” I said defiantly.

  “So predictably protective,” Hennar said with an eye roll. “I bet Martin hates that.”

  “He does not hate me,” I snapped.

  “Did I say that?” Hennar said, raising his voice. It was the first time he was anything but nonchalant and casual. “You need to listen better, girl. I said I bet Martin hates how protective you are. It goes against the culture of his world. Hard habits to break, those.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, completely confused. This man was as mad as all the rumors claimed.

  As I posed this question, however, something tugged at the center of my core, right below my heart but above my stomach. It was a small white glow that filled me with warmth, like basking in the summer sun. Hennar and I both noticed it at the same time. We witnessed the glow pulse like a heartbeat, then grow tendrils that spread through the rest of my chest and abdomen.

  Hennar, if anything, looked disappointed.

  “It seems you weren’t destined to die yet after all,” Hennar said with a sigh. “Damn dragon.”

  “Dragon?” I said, more to my chest than to Hennar.

  “I guess you do get to live,” Hennar said absently. “Good for you, I guess. Now that I know this, I am too curious not to. I am sorry for this.”

  I barely managed to get the words, “For what?” out of my mouth before Hennar reached for me with a spindly finger. He stroked the tip along the side of my face, from temple to chin, and I roared in pain.

  The touch felt like fire, boiling my skin alive. The path of his finger trailed like a line of dead leaves before a forest fire, igniting and spreading the blaze. My skin shivered and shook. It was as if my face was being peeled away as Hennar ripped through my defenses and feasted freely.

  Even after his finger left my cheek, I felt the ghostly touch of his dark power. It filled my vision with images of desolate lands, dying beasts, and b
lackness. So much black that it shrank the sun. When my vision returned to the images at hand, Hennar was crouched in front of me, the violent whiteness behind him blurred.

  Hennar put the tip of his finger to his lips. A disgusting sucking noise rang in my ears, ending in a final pop as Hennar finished his tasting.

  “Oh, you are delicious, my dear guard,” Hennar said with a haunting smile. “Until we meet again. Ta-ta!”

  In another flash of white, I fell down through the nonexistent ground. My injured body tumbled and flailed about, with a continuous pounding in my chest and burning on my cheek. I traveled down, down, down until a solid surface collided with my bad. It shoved the air out of my lungs once more, and I heaved.

  Above me was the fierce blue sky of Insomier. Protruding into my line of sight was Alona and seven very colorful dragons, all watching over me.

  “Welcome back, Diana,” Ffamran said. “Want to tell us where you went?”

  17

  Diana

  I squeezed my eyes shut and held them there for a solid minute before reopening them again. I took a quick assessment of my injuries. The sweating and shivering had stopped, but my ribs still ached. I reached up to touch my face and could feel nothing unusual. Still, the phantom burning from Hennar’s touch, stealing my power, itched along my face. I flattened my palm and rubbed it along my cheek, hoping to counteract the sensation still ripping through my skin.

  My other hand clutched my side, and I attempted to sit up. Someone helped me from behind, assisting as I rose. I muttered my gratitude and then opened my eyes.

  I was in the center of the hedge maze with the clan of dragons, all seven of them present. Alona was there too, sitting right next to me. She leaned back, with one leg outstretched, looking at the sky with closed eyes. Her lips moved rapidly but silently. On the other end of the enclosure stood Korey, who sat on the edge of the fountain, hunched and not looking at me.