Dragons of Dark (Upon Dragons Breath Trilogy Book 3)

by Ava Richardson

  He grunted and took two stamping steps forward, planting his bulk as immovable as a rock in the center of the feasting tent, and his blade dancing a quick, darting display in front of me. I had no chance but to step back under this onslaught, until my back hit the wood of one of the tables. His years of experience made him much better than me at knife fighting.

  “Yes!” I heard Chief Vere hissing, as he closed the gap.

  But I was younger and lighter. I dove out of the way as his slender blade scored a groove along the wood. The Stone Tooth clans people on the other side drew back, hissing at him angrily. Instead, I sidestepped around him, causing him to turn his weight around as fast as he could or else be stabbed in the back.

  “Come here!” He launched from the table, back into the center of the tent, and once again I dodged. As soon as I realized that I could predict where he was going by paying attention to his footsteps, it became easier to always be ahead of him in the arena, causing him to turn around again, and again, and again.

  He started to sweat, his face growing red and blotchy as he made wilder and wilder stabs at the spaces where I had been only a moment before.

  He made a wild lunge at my throat, but I turned on the spot, and flicked my dagger forward, scoring a line of blood up the side of his face. Chief Vere snarled, falling backward, one hand clutching at the blood that welled up on the side of his cheek. It hadn’t been such a terrible injury, but it stretched from temple to jaw, and neatly severed one section of his flared mustache. Blood seeped from between his fingers as the larger man panted and gasped, falling to his knees on the floor in front of me.

  Who kills, leads, I remembered, the words ringing in my ears as I batted away his feeble swipes, pressing my dagger quickly to the man’s neck.

  Silence. Even the flying dragons above quieted as I looked down to the stilled face of Chief Vere. He was scared, angry, and hurt.

  And this is no victory, I thought. Killing a man kneeling on the floor. I kept my dagger to his throat, looked Vere in the eyes until his eyelids fluttered and he looked away from me, to the floor. “I will not start my reign like this,” I whispered solemnly. “Vere, you are no longer a chief of any clan, people, or tribe. You are banished from the Middle Kingdom, forever,” I said, stepping back to let the rest of the room see how broken he was.

  There was a collective gasp from both the Three Rivers and the Stone Tooth people around me at my sudden mercy for my enemy. “When I lived in the citadel of Torvald, I saw King Enric’s sort of justice firsthand,” I said loudly, not taking my eyes off of the kneeling Vere. “King Enric would kill any who disagreed with him, or any who he thought might disagree with him. But that is not me, and that is not my kingship. Vere has an opinion that I should not lead, and that humans should not ride dragons. He is wrong, but he is entitled to his opinion, so long as he does not ever, ever try to force it upon the rest of us. That is not why I fought Vere. I fought him because he hit my friend, and I protect my friends. If the rest of you will follow me into battle, then I will do my best to protect you all, as well.” I gestured to Vere with my dagger. “Enough. Somebody get him up and out of my camp.”

  I wasn’t entirely expecting the rest of the tent to agree with me, but, to my surprise there was a roar of joyous agreement, and all of the assembled Stone Tooth, Three Rivers, and the refugee families started applauding and cheering, save a couple of burly Three Rivers warriors. Those who had become new Dragon Riders proceeded to pick Vere up from his shoulders, and haul him out.

  “King Bower! Lady Saffron!” The crowd started to chant, and “Torvald, Torvald, Torvald!”

  I grinned then, stupidly, feeling giddy and exhausted as the crowds pressed around me, and a skin of wine was pressed into my hands. In the throng of cheering and smiling faces, one in particular made me happy.

  “Saffron,” I greeted her, seeing how she was nodding at me in congratulations.

  “We still have the other thing to attend to,” she whispered into my ear as we hugged. “The traitor.”

  I must have looked alarmed, as Saffron shook her head once more, mouthing the words ‘Later’ to me, and letting me go back to the crush of celebration as the tent erupted into a chant: “Bower! Saffron! Torvald!”

  It must have been near dawn when I finally managed to get away from the revelry inside the main tent, and that was only with Mother Gorlas’s help.

  “Come now, sir Bower,” she said, cackling a little and her breath smelling of the heavy apple-mead that the Three Rivers clan had brewed. “You have an appointment, remember?”

  The evening had become one of tales, long-winded songs, and foot-stomping chants, as the warriors from each clan, family, and tribe tried to introduce me to their great traditions. I don’t think they ever did this at the Palace of Torvald! I found myself laughing and wondering just how many traditions were going to change.

  No more courts ruled over by one man, I thought as Mother Gorlas shepherded me out of the tent unseen. It has to be a council. A lot of men and women, coming together as the Stone Tooth decide things. And there needs to be public celebrations, feats of strength and skill like the Three Rivers do. The citadel was a place ruled by fear, with every citizen terrified of laughing or of speaking out, and the tensions just festered and ran deeper and deeper. The Three Rivers had the right idea, encouraging people to display their joy and their dismay publicly, and loudly, and safely.

  Maybe the tribes are what have been missing from Torvald, and their way of doing things, I thought as I stumbled over the cold ground. And dragons, of course.

  Saffron stepped out of the darkness.

  “Oh!” I said surprised. “There you are.”

  “Here I am,” Saffron agreed, and I could tell immediately that she wasn’t as happy with my ad-hoc coronation as the rest of the camp was.

  “And don’t forget me!” Mother Gorlas cackled, stamping her feet.

  Oh. The traitor, I remembered, the thought going a long way to sober me up.

  Saffron looked fearfully at me for a moment, before asking warily, “Did you mean what you said earlier? About your reign being based on justice and not cruelty?”

  “Of course!” I said at once. “But the traitor. People died because of him. Good people, good dragons.”

  “I know.” Saffron agreed. “But this traitor. He’s not who we thought he was—I do not even know whether he knows what it is he is doing.”

  “Oh Saffron,” I said sadly. “I, too, have seen too many deaths. But this traitor…”

  “Is Tan,” Saffron said.

  I opened and closed my mouth, shocked. “But he’s barely a child!”

  “Old enough to sneak into my stores and steal all of the nightmare-potion, and lace the camp porridge with it!” Mother Gorlas pointed out.

  “But,” I struggled to wrap my mind around the news. “He saw us fight the Iron Guard! He saw how terrible the king is!”

  “He was the boy who One-Eye stole, remember?” Saffron said. “She took him, and I think that, somehow, with the hidden Iron Guard and the king’s magic.”

  “Enric has been using Tan,” I said darkly. “Just like he wanted to use you.”

  “Yes,” Saffron said. “I think so. He was there in the command tent when you announced where we were going and when. He was the one I asked to set the fires early that morning, and he took one of Mother Gorlas’s skulls to wear, probably just thinking it pretty.” Saffron shook her head. “That is why the dragons suddenly lost their contact with the riders, and we were ambushed that day, Bower. We had all eaten porridge laced with the last of the nightmare potion, and our minds were sealed.”

  I gasped. “That means that I—my ability—”

  Saffron nodded. “It isn’t affected by the potion. Maybe it means Enric can’t influence you at all, I don’t know. But I do know it means Enric isn’t as powerful as we thought. There’s no enchantment in the Middle Kingdom. We can fly with the dragons into the heart of the kingdom and as long as we don’t get do
sed again, we can still hear our dragons!” She smiled.

  “Into the heart of the Middle Kingdom!” I muttered, an idea suddenly blossoming in my mind. “That’s it! Saffron, you are a genius! That’s how we can defeat Enric and his army of Iron Guard!”

  “What? How?” Saffron’s eyes glittered as she caught my excitement.

  “You still have to deal with this traitor, remember,” Mother Gorlas said. “Any plan you divulge to anyone might be overheard by the boy—”

  “No, that doesn’t matter!” I said. “I want him to hear every last one of our top-secret plans.” I started chuckling and Mother Gorlas looked as me as if I had clearly had a little too much to drink after all.

  “Later this morning, I want you to bring him to me. Not as a traitor. I don’t want him to suspect that we know. Bring him to help you and Mother Gorlas as we count supplies or something. I am going to talk to both of you about how glad I am to be the new king, and together we are going to make some very bold, and very daring plans for our attack.”

  Saffron started to nod. “You know what, Bower, if I didn’t know better, then I would almost say that you are becoming clever.”

  23

  Saffron, the Bluff

  Time was running out. Dawn seared the eastern sky, and the clouds were lifting, lit by streaks of pink, crimson, and orange. It’s going to be a good day for flying, I thought, seeing the high winds up above us pulling at the clouds, revealing patches of blue sky. The dragons would be able to soar on those winds and cover long distances with minimal effort.

  The camp was busy with the sounds of the morning preparations. The chiefs and wisewomen of the Three-Rivers clan rushed back and forth, trying to marshal their people. Bower came walking out of a tent, flanked by Dol Agur and Mother Gorlas, strapping his leather greaves to his arms, and Tan holding his sword.

  “Bower,” I waved from where I stood beside Jaydra, and nodded up to the sky. “It’s getting late.”

  I saw my friend shake his head. “Let them take their time,” he said. “It’s more important that we’re as ready as we can be for what comes next.”

  I nodded, my eyes sliding towards Tan for just a fraction of a moment. Is Enric listening, even now? Through Tan’s eyes? I shivered at the thought, putting on a brittle smile as the small group walked up to us. Enric had wanted to use me like that.

  No, I heard Jaydra say inside my head, as her breath rattled in the caverns of her chest beside me. He wanted you. Like you are mine. My soul, my sister.

  That suggestion made the idea even worse, but I pretended I didn’t feel a creeping horror as I talked to my friends. Both Dol Agur and Mother Gorlas knew all about the ‘trouble’ with Tan, and they had their plans on how to deal with the boy after the Dragon Riders had flown. “He will be safe with us,” Dol Agur had assured me, as I had purposefully forbidden the boy to be harmed.

  “I don’t think he even knows what he is doing,” I told them, and I believed it even more as I watched him now. I gave him a brief smile as he looked, open-eyed and full of wonder at Jaydra beside me.

  “She’s very friendly,” I assured him.

  Tan looked excited, but was still clearly worried, taking a half step back behind Mother Gorlas as Jaydra sniffed at him.

  Hmm. Smells like any other human, she assured me.

  “We’ll be flying before long,” Bower said once more, a little louder this time, exaggerating his performance a little, but if Tan, or the Enric inside, suspected that this was all an act, then it didn’t show. “And we will return to the river valley where we were before, this time with more Dragon Riders!” he said with fake bravado.

  “Yes,” I said, my own words surely sounding as hollow as Bower’s did to me. “We’ll get them!” I said, even clenching my fist and making a swiping gesture.

  Mother Gorlas coughed and turned to one side, rolling her eyes at my theatrics, before throwing a sharp glance at the other wise woman, Dol Agur.

  “Oh, yes,” Dol Agur said, stopping as she turned to take off her knapsack from around her back, and pull out two large, bulky objects wrapped in hide. One of these bundles she presented to Bower, and the other to me.

  “What?” This was not what I had been expecting at all. This isn’t a part of the performance, is it?

  “What is this?” Bower said. “A present?”

  “Sort of.” Dol Agur smiled, nodding that we should both unwrap them now. I pulled the hide from the bundle to see a rounded bronze-colored helmet, decorated with delicate whorls and cross-hatching patterns, and two curved horns emerging from the brow.

  “I brought them with me from the Third Mountain. They are the only two that we found, and I’ve been keeping them as relics of a lost time,” Dol Agur said.

  They must be old, I thought, as I hadn’t seen any soldier amongst the Three Rivers clan or the king’s soldiers wearing anything like these—the king’s soldiers wore small, ugly brimmed metal caps. But these were beautiful. They reminded me more of the works of art I had seen in Bower’s family mansion before Enric had destroyed it, than of tools of war. Each had a thick leather chinstrap and a buckle that secured it, with leather bolted onto the inside to protect the ears.

  “Helmets?” I asked, puzzled.

  “Are these what I think they are?” Bower’s face was alight with joy. He held his horned helmet between his hands reverently. “I don’t believe it!”

  “They are.” Dol Agur nodded, and beside her Mother Gorlas beamed at Bower’s obvious pleasure. Admittedly, they were very nice to look at, and would offer good protection, I thought.

  Humans. I always thought that you should have scales, Jaydra said dryly.

  “These are some of the original Dragon Rider’s helmets from the Dragon Academy of Torvald,” Bower exclaimed. “I thought they’d all been destroyed!” He lifted it up so its bronze colors could catch the light of the rising sun. “You know, I never thought that I’d ever see one of these in real life!”

  “We only had the two,” Dol Agur said. “It’s like the Record Keeper predicted that you both were to come. Go on, try them on,” she urged.

  We did, and they fit perfectly.

  The large dragon horn sounded across the camp; it had once been the Three Rivers’ clan signal to all of the Dragon Riders to mount up. The camp around us became a frenzy of activity, as riders kissed their families and patted each other on the back, and those they would leave behind took up chants to keep up the riders’ spirits.

  “Do not worry, Lord Bower, we know what to do,” Mother Gorlas said. “We will lead the people to safety.” The contingent of wisewomen and shamans from all of the clans and refugees had agreed the night before to become the leaders of the camp when the king was away. The king, I thought. How odd to think about Bower in that way! I had seen him be sick when he was first learning how to fly. Bower had told them not to disclose their plans to anyone, not even to him or me—and especially not Tan—but to lead the refugees, the old, the young and the infirm deep into the wilderness.

  “The dragons will be able to find you after,” Bower assured them.

  If we come back, a cynical part of me thought, before I instantly quashed it. This was no time to despair, even if it was a desperate plan. Bower had announced to all of the riders that we were to fly in two groups, each converging on the same place where we had been disastrously ambushed a few days before, and there we would finish off the Iron Guard.

  Of course, that was not the real plan, but only Bower, the two wisewomen, and I knew what that was. Not even the assembled Dragon Riders knew the real plan, a fact Bower had at first been worried about, but since each rider had sworn they wanted to destroy the tyrannical rule of the king, we knew they would gladly follow Bower into battle.

  “This is our only chance,” Bower had whispered to me the night before. “To use everything we’ve got. Everything and everyone.”

  I wonder if that also includes my magic, I wondered uneasily, as Bower embraced the two women in farewell. It had be
en two days since I had any of the potion—there wasn’t any to have in the camp anyway, thanks to Tan—and my heart filled with worry. Or was it anger? I still didn’t know if I could control the Maddox magic within me, and I still didn’t know if the anger and frustration I felt was a product of this perilous mission we were facing, or was perhaps the constant, unseen attempts of King Enric to influence my heart.

  Enough, den-sister. Jaydra gave me a mental nudge, as Mother Gorlas gave me a fierce hug, before telling the sea-blue dragon behind me, “You look after her, you hear?”

  Always, Jaydra nodded.

  Next came Dol Agur, clasping my hands to press her forehead to mine, the traditional Stone Tooth way of greeting and saying farewell. When she pulled back, she looked me straight in the eyes and could tell just how worried I was. “Remember our lessons, Saffron. Use that anger and channel it. Don’t let it use you.”

  “I will try, Dol Agur,” I said, wondering if right now, at this juncture, whether trying really was good enough anymore.

  The hollowed-out dragon’s horn sounded for a second time, as the riders strode across the open field toward the rocks where their dragons sat. The island dragons chirruped and snuffed at the air excitedly as they greeted their riders, and the wild mountain dragons turned and rolled their heads and bodies in a strange, serpent-like gesture that meant the same thing. Queen Ysix sat a little way off with her small coterie of young dragons who had decided not to bear humans, sniffing the air currents and waiting for the signal to fly. Whenever I saw them, a shadow of grief crossed over my heart, for our brood mother and queen, the Great Zenema.

  We are all still mourning her, Jaydra agreed, and I reached out with my heart to my dragon-sister.

  She will be with us to the end, I thought.

  “Well, this is it!” Bower was saying, as Jaydra extended her foreleg to allow him to climb up from her talons, to elbow, to shoulder, and then to the saddle. I waited to see him clipped in securely, pleased with how easy and comfortable he now seemed.