Dragon Song (Dawn of the Dragon Queen Book 1)

by Tara West

  Fearing she’d capsize at any moment, Safina struggled to keep her head afloat while fighting the pain that shot up her broken wing and made her feel out of balance.

  Mother's eyes darkened, her jowls setting in a grim line. Let me see your wing.

  Safina edged closer, dipping her head beneath her mother's chin, placing her cheek against the heart she knew as well as her own.

  Mother latched one strong talon onto her wing.

  Her mother's chest rose and expanded with air. She winced, anticipating what was to come.

  With a slow, steady breath, Mother worked the magic of her healing fires.

  Safina tried to shift beneath the burning weight, but Mother's grip was strong.

  The flames ebbed. The burning soothed. Safina's broken wing was just a memory.

  She nuzzled her mother's neck, purring against her glistening scales.

  She loved her mother so.

  Then she pushed off, flapping her wings until she broke free of the water. A torrent of droplets shook from her scales as she flapped harder, rising higher still. She laughed in delight as water rained down on Mother's head.

  Mother reared up, snapping at Safina’s talons with spiky teeth.

  Safina laughed louder as she flew just out of Mother's reach.

  She was Safina, dragon princess. Invincible!

  Do not stray far, child. I sense mortals may be near.

  Safina’s heart lurched, and her wings stuttered. Was there no place she and Mother could be safe? She was tired of human hatred, of their ignorance. Anger surged and heated her scales. She was a mighty dragon princess. She would not fear mortals.

  She puffed out her chest, speaking with all the regality befitting a dragon royal.

  Then I shall burn them to a crisp!

  These humans spear giant sea whales, daughter. They will make easy work out of slaying a hatchling dragon.

  A hatchling? Safina did not consider herself a hatchling. She was nearly her mother’s height and girth. Still, her bravery waned ever so slightly as she swallowed a knot in her throat. Perhaps she should stay close to the queen. Just in case.

  I will not fly far.

  Mother's heavy eyes narrowed, her fanged jowls hinting at a smile. Stay within my dragon's eye.

  Aye, Mother.

  She flew circles above her mother's head, her superior gaze keeping watch for the two of them as she took note of every curious bird that flew by. She would do her duty as a dragon royal, keeping the queen and herself safe. That was why she stayed so close to her mother. Not out of fear of mortals. Nay, never out of fear.

  Her gaze wandered west. A flock of white birds made a sudden shift in direction. She knew by the erratic flapping of their wings, they'd spied the dragon pair. Safina arched back and roared. The birds fluttered faster and farther away. Inwardly, she smiled. They were no match for a dragon princess.

  Her sight shifted east to the rising sun. Water on the horizon rose in vapors, pulled from the sea by the giant glowing abyss.

  On the north horizon, she thought she saw a thin shoreline, but the distance was too great for even her dragon eyes to discern island from illusion.

  She sensed the change, a shift in her environment. Her nostrils flared as she inhaled deeply. A new scent, powerful and strange. She spun a quick circle but saw nothing amiss in the sky.

  She chanced a look down.

  Safina wailed at the sight.

  So consumed had she been in watching the sky for threats, she hadn't thought of danger from below. As the dragon queen floated aimlessly in the ocean's current, Safina clearly made out the form of something giant and monstrous rising beneath her mother's talons.

  Mother! she cried. A monster is beneath you!

  Her mother did not look down, only issued Safina a command. Come down, child.

  Obeying the queen, Safina flew down until she was above her mother’s head. She reminded herself she was a dragon royal and aiding the queen was her duty, though the blood pumping through her wings went cold from fright.

  The water bubbled and boiled and made a great rumbling sound as the monster drew closer to the surface.

  Icy fear swept through Safina and emptied her mind of all rational thought. She tried to steady the erratic flapping of her wings while remaining tethered to her mother.

  A large pointy head bobbed above the sea, just within reach of Mother's wingspan. The head was pink and splotchy with dark teardrop-shaped eyes. Several long, wavy tendrils rose up around the monster. Each strand had a pattern of strange bubbly circles on one side.

  Safina thought those were part of the monster's hair, for they appeared too floppy to be of any use.

  Fiona? The creature spoke as they did, through thought. The monster's droopy eyes focused on the dragon queen. ’Tis been a long time, My Deity.

  Mother sighed. Much too long, Graechen.

  Mother was friends with this sea creature? Why had she never mentioned this before?

  Mortals still do not take kindly to dragon folk?

  The sea monster's question was not laced with disbelief. She sounded all too knowing of mortal prejudice.

  Nay, Graechen. Mother's heavy jowls turned a frown. We need a place of safe keeping.

  One long bubbly tendril came out of the water and cradled Mother's chin. Where is the dragon warrior I once knew?

  Gone is she. The dragon queen shook her head, a tear slipping down her snout. I am Mother now.

  I see. Several more floppy tendrils came out of the water. One wiped away Mother's tear, others stroked the back of her neck.

  Safina had never seen so many legs on a creature, except for spiders. Perhaps she was a sea spider of some kind. Safina lurched, wondering if the monster was poisonous, too. Instinctively, she flapped her wings harder, putting more distance between them.

  Graechen's large black eyes shifted to Safina. The princess is frightened of me. Have you not told her of the stewards?

  Nay. She knows little of our culture. We are all that is left of dragonkind. Mother arched her long neck and gently tugged Safina's talon, pulling her closer. Safina, this is Graechen, steward of the sea and friend to dragon.

  Even though Graechen was not majestic like a beautiful, scaly dragon, she had a calming aura that reminded Safina of her mother.

  She decided she would like the monster. Have you need for all those legs?

  Graechen made a gurgling sound which Safina thought to be laughter.

  They come in handy when I am crushing my prey.

  Safina gasped. A knot of panic coiled in her stomach.

  A long tendril came out of the water, cupping Safina's chin.

  Safina wanted to put more air beneath her wings, fly away from this strange creature and her slimy clutches, but something in the monster's inky gaze calmed her fears. Safina could not understand the calm which settled in her heart.

  You should never fear me, princess, Graechen soothed. We monsters protect one another. She patted Safina on the head, then her long extremity flopped back into the water. She turned her dark gaze to the dragon queen. Build your cocoon, dragon mother. I will keep watch.

  Mother exhaled slowly, bowing her head to the monster. Thank you, friend.

  Safina flew down to meet her mother's gaze. What is a cocoon, Mother?

  Come to me. Press your head against my heart. Mother opened her generous wingspan, motioning for Safina to come near. I will form a cocoon to keep us safe.

  Safina obeyed, flying into the cradle of her mother's wings and snuggling against her chest. What will happen to us in this cocoon?

  Mother nuzzled Safina's neck, purring against her ear. We will sink to the bottom of the ocean.

  Safina gasped. I cannot breathe under water.

  Mother purred deeper. The cocoon will give us breath.

  Panic rose in Safina’s chest, her heart near to bursting. She had spent the better part of her sixteen summers confined to a human shell and now she was to be trapped under water with strange creatures.
Not to fly! Not to soar to the heavens!

  I don't want to go under-water, Mother. I want to fly!

  Nay, child. As Mother spoke, she snuggled Safina tightly to her chest. Flying is too dangerous. The mortals want us dead, and I can no longer trust you to guard our secret.

  I'm sorry, Mother. Tears stung Safina's eyes and flowed freely down her snout. I'll not do it again. I promise.

  The air around Safina grew thicker, then darkened. She struggled to pull away from her mother's grasp, but an invisible binding force kept her in place.

  Hush, my sweet. Mother cooed. We will come up when it is safe.

  How long will that be? She sobbed.

  Safina heard a thump and then a splash. All at once, she felt weightless. Her body spun, a cyclone of dizziness twisting inside her head. She clung tightly to the dragon queen, focusing all of her energy on the heavy beating of her mother's heart.

  Mother nuzzled Safina's neck. When the world is ready for dragons, we will surface.

  The world may never be ready, Fiona, Graechen's voice echoed around them.

  We must be patient, Graechen. Mother sighed, the steady pulse of her heart slowing to nearly a stop. Our time will come.

  * * *

  England – 1446

  “Make way for the dragonslayer!”

  Duncan followed the knight into the large darkened hall, lit only by a small fire at one end. He was told ’twas a meeting place of some sort. Many villagers had gathered here. Tots with grimy faces clung to their mothers' worn skirts. Old bony men with scraggly beards leaned on gnarled canes.

  As he did whenever he came upon a new village, he scanned each face, hoping they had disguised themselves among them.

  His heart lurched at the sight of a slender woman with fiery curls who was stirring embers in the hearth.

  Ignoring the others, he lengthened his stride until he was almost upon her.

  She turned but the massive riot of hair obscured her face. She raced to the side of a very fat monk seated near the fire in an ornate wooden chair.

  Duncan knew the monk was of some importance to the gathering villagers. He could tell by the regal way the priest carried himself and the gold rings on his fingers and fine embroidery of his robes.

  The monk snapped his fingers, and the redheaded woman filled his goblet with wine.

  Duncan's heart sank when the woman brushed aside her hair, revealing a pock-marked face.

  “By King's command,” the knight beside him bellowed. “The dragonslayer has come seeking answers.”

  The monk glared at Duncan sideways. “You are too late.” He spoke with slurred words. “You should have been here when the monster tried to eat our children!”

  A lie. His dragon mate and child had proven time and again they did not seek to harm mankind. “When were these dragons last seen?”

  “Yesternight.” The monk took a long gulp of wine, spilling some of it down the many folds of his chin. Handing the goblet to the servant girl, he wiped his face with the back of a sleeve. “They have flown over the sea, and I doubt we’ll see the likes of them again.”

  Duncan was not to be deterred. Nearly seventeen years of searching, and he'd never come so close. He was not about to give up now. He knew they had most likely flown to a nearby island. “Tell me,” Duncan pressed. “Were they whole and in good health?”

  The priest belched into stubby fingers. “Why does that concern you?”

  Duncan did his best to maintain an impassive face. “I simply wish to know if they were injured by yer men.”

  The priest fixed him with a pointed glare. “Aye, the child was injured.”

  The dragonslayer had come against many formidable foes in his lifetime. He had battled three-headed monsters, giants, and dragons alike. Never had he felt the bone-crushing panic that pulsed through his veins now. For the first time in Duncan's life, his knees weakened.

  “Was it a mortal wound?” he asked, voice strained.

  “Nay. I could only wish. The children merely pelted the demon spawn with rocks.”

  Duncan released a slow breath, but the stiffness which had coiled around his spine remained, for now he would need to begin his quest anew.

  “We were all fooled by their cunning and magic,” the priest rambled. “They disguise themselves as humans.” The priest thrust a flabby arm into the air. “Witches, they are!”

  “Do you forget Fiona healed my sickly son who could not walk?” a woman called from one of the darkened corners of the room.

  “And she eased the pain in your bones.” The redheaded servant spoke as she refilled the monk's goblet.

  “Mark my words, the pain will return tenfold.” The priest's meaty jowls shook as he bellowed. “No good can come of the devil's magic!”

  Duncan was growing ever tired of the monk’s babbling. “I thank ye for yer time.” He bowed stiffly. “I must bid ye a good day.”

  “A good day?” the monk snarled. “Pray, tell me, how am I to have a good day? I can’t even shut my eyes, for fear those flame-haired harpies will haunt my sleep.”

  Duncan arched a brow. “Harpies? I was told they were beautiful lasses.” Though he no longer carried his dragon-slaying sword, at that moment he very much wished for one, so he could run it through the priest.

  “Aye.” The monk snorted. “Fair in face, skin pale as the moon, hair aglow like the fiery embers of their deadly dragon's breath.”

  “Their eyes were different,” the servant said as if she were lost in a distant memory. “Fiona's were a honeyed gold, but the child's were of the softest blue, like the summer sky.”

  The monk nodded, grunting in agreement. “Odd. I've never seen another with eyes so pale.” He trailed off, narrowing his beady orbs at Duncan through puffy slits.

  Duncan shifted slightly, feeling the heavy weight of the priest's assessing glare. Behind him, the soft murmurs of the crowd grew louder.

  They were speaking of his eyes.

  He glared at the crowd. Then, squaring his shoulders, Duncan faced the monk with a direct gaze. If he wanted to judge him, so be it.

  The monk ran stubby fingers across his rounded chin. “Tell me, dragonslayer, where are your shield and sword?”

  “I've other weapons to fight these dragons.”

  “Then perhaps you should be on your way.” He laughed, waving Duncan away with a dismissive flick of the wrist. “Find them, if you can.”

  Duncan thanked the priest through a frozen smile, trying desperately to mask the pain which had struck his chest like a lead stone.

  She was gone.

  Aye, the monk was right. Fiona was a witch.

  A deceiver.

  A dragon.

  Cursed him, she had, to a life of immortal misery. But he would not end his hunt. Even if it took him a thousand years, he would find his dragon queen and child.

  They could not hide from him forever.

  Chapter Three

  Scotland, 1423

  Fiona knew not what had happened, only that she felt her mother’s pain and cry for help, and had flown swiftly to her aid.

  She found the dragon queen’s body by the sea on a rocky precipice which towered above the violent waves beneath. It had been a cold morn, made even colder by the icy terror which settled in Fiona’s chest.

  Landing with haste, she nearly lost her footing as an avalanche of rocks and debris slipped from beneath her talons and into the water below.

  She approached her mother cautiously, pinning her wings behind her as she nudged the queen with her snout.

  Mother! she cried.

  The queen did not answer.

  Mother, do you not hear me? She nudged harder, and the queen

  rolled onto her side.

  ’Twas then Fiona noticed the spear lodged in Mother’s chest.

  Fiona tried to save her. She showered Mother with her healing fires until she fell over from exhaustion.

  Overcome with despair, she sobbed until her body ached and shook with jarring tremors. Then
her breathing slowed, stilled, and she wished she would die beside her mother.

  Mortal voices carried from afar. “Find the dragonslayer! There’s another!”

  “I think it’s dead. He killed two dragons!”

  “Nay, keep your distance. I was witness. MacQuoid killed only one.”

  “Aye, but it looks dead. Mayhap he returned and killed this one.”

  Fiona lay quiet, stifling her sobs. Let them fetch the dragonslayer, MacQuoid. Let them bring him to her, so she could have her revenge!

  Other villagers came, though they were wise enough to keep their distance. One brave fool poked and prodded her scales. She sensed the wild pounding of his heart as shrill laughter erupted from his throat.

  Fiona repressed the urge to rear up and burn him on the spot. Nay, she would wait for MacQuoid.

  But he never came. He’d ridden on to slay more monsters, no doubt. Mayhap he was looking for her in the hills where she and Mother had hunted wild game.

  He would not find her. Fiona would make sure of it.

  She would find him. She would come to him as a woman, seduce him, lure him away.

  And then….

  Fiona swore with every fiery breath in her body, she would

  not rest until her mother’s death was avenged.

  * * *

  Caribbean Sea, 1729

  Fiona woke with a start, chest heaving, stomach clenched, and tears dripping freely down her snout. Smoke from her heavy breathing filled the cramped chamber. Her slumber would be far more comfortable if she could shift to human form. She squeezed her dragon eyes shut, trying to block the images from her terrifying nightmare. But she knew ’twas no nightmare that had disturbed her slumber. Her mother’s murder was all too real.

  She choked on a sob, clenching her jowls tight as she repressed the urge to cry out. She would not wake her child.

  MacQuoid’s child.

  Fiona chanced a look at the sleeping dragon nestled in the crook of her wing. She loved her daughter so, the one reason she did not regret her grievous night of passion with MacQuoid so many years ago.

  But Fiona could not force her daughter to slumber forever. She had grown to full size, her ribs now pressing against the cavity that cradled Fiona’s broken heart. The dragon queen feared her child would ask questions about her father.