Gods & Dragons: 8 Fantasy Novels

by Daniel Arenson

  “And his body?” Jarrett wouldn’t stop pressing for answers.

  “Taken. By a set of dragon claws.”

  Jarrett walked closer to the dragon. It seemed more interested in him too. Jarrett held out a hand toward it, steady and sure. “Can you change into human form?”

  The dragon’s head hung down, its eyes downcast.

  “You can’t, can you?”

  The dragon shook its head.

  “Connor?” Tressa asked. She wasn’t sure she could believe it or if she even wanted to believe it.

  The dragon swung an eye toward her, then slowly nodded.

  “Oh gods, Connor!” She threw her arms around the dragon’s muzzle. Tears spilled down her cheeks.

  “He’s in transition. It’s only been a few months, so he cannot control the changing yet. Like Henry.” Jarrett rested a hand on Tressa’s back. “He will eventually be able to control it, just like Stacia and all of the other dragonlords.”

  “But how?” Tressa asked, stumbling backward. She still left a hand on Connor’s muzzle, not ready to let go yet. “Connor was never a dragon. He was as human as me.”

  “The dragonlords have their ways. They can take someone like you or I, and change them. I don’t know all the secrets of how it works, but I know it does. As an insider to the Yellow Throne I have seen things.”

  “And the people stand for this?” She thought of the regular people out in the streets, running their businesses, tending to their families. Their very lives were in danger.

  “They don’t know. In fact, you are one of few people who know that dragons can switch between human and dragon form.”

  Tressa staggered backward, letting go of Connor and distancing herself from Jarrett. “But the dragons. The people know they exist.”

  “They believe the dragons are protectors of the dragonlords. They do not know they are one and the same.”

  Tressa couldn’t wrap her mind around it. She knew she’d had to keep Henry a secret from the others because of his mission to kill Stacia and take over the throne. She hadn’t realized it was a secret she’d have to withhold from the rest of the world.

  “No one can know. They fear the dragons, but the people love their leaders.”

  Tressa snorted. “No one here loved Stacia.”

  “No, but they loved her mother.”

  “And Connor will one day learn how to turn human again on his own?”

  Jarrett nodded.

  “And he will be the same man as before?”

  Jarrett stood still.

  “Jarrett?”

  “He will be … different. How I cannot say. It is not the same for everyone.”

  Tressa patted Connor on the nose again. “If you are in there and you can understand me, I want you to know that Bastian and I will find a way to help you. I promise.”

  “That is not all,” Jarrett said.

  Tressa turned to him. “What else is there?”

  “Now that the fog has fallen, the other dragonlords will prepare for war.”

  Her shoulders tensed up. “Why?”

  “Because Hutton’s Bridge holds something they all desire.”

  * * * * *

  Tressa laid next to Bastian. She brushed his hair out of his eyes. “The physic said you’ll be feeling better in a couple of weeks. You sustained some serious injuries.”

  “I’ll be fine in a day or two.” He tried to sit up, but instead he winced in pain.

  “No, you’ll take the time to heal properly.” She pressed her body into his. “Everything else will fall into place if you let yourself heal.”

  “And you? What will you do until then?”

  Tressa took a deep breath, preparing herself to give him an answer she knew he wouldn’t like. “I have to go back to Hutton’s Bridge. There is some unfinished business that can’t wait.”

  “What?”

  She hesitated, knowing this answer would annoy him even more. “I can’t tell you.”

  “It’s Jarrett, isn’t it?” He closed his eyes.

  “Yes,” Tressa said. He’d explained to her about the danger awaiting her people—one they weren’t aware of—if they didn’t get to Hutton’s Bridge before the other dragonlords knew the fog was down.

  “He wants you.”

  Tressa didn’t immediately answer. She’d felt it was true as well. Jarrett knew she was in love with Bastian, but it hadn’t stopped him from letting her know he had feelings for her too. After Connor had flown out the window he’d destroyed with Stacia’s body, Jarrett and Tressa took Bastian to the nearest physic.

  While Bastian was being evaluated, Jarrett explained the danger of opening up Hutton’s Bridge to the rest of the dragonlords. He pressed Tressa to travel with him back to her village. She’d told him about the dragon that had landed in Hutton’s Bridge right before she, Bastian, and Connor left. She’d teared up thinking about Connor and then Jarrett had tried to kiss her. For a second, she’d allowed it before pulling away.

  She gazed at Bastian. He didn’t need to know specifics, but she couldn’t lie to him. “He might, but it doesn’t matter because we’re finally together.” He’d told her Vinya was dead. While she didn’t celebrate the demise of the woman, she couldn’t help but be relieved. It was one less obstacle in their way. “I’m also going so I can get Farah and bring her to you.”

  Bastian smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Sleep, now.” She kissed him on the forehead and stood up.

  “Tressa?”

  “Yes?” She turned back to him at the doorway. He looked terrible—bruises, cuts, bandages everywhere.

  “Be careful.”

  “I will. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Tressa, wait.”

  She looked back at Bastian, waiting for him to complete a yawn.

  “Your father —” His eyes fluttered to a close, followed by a quick snore.

  She smiled. She would see her father again before coming back into the city. And maybe even Nerak. First, Hutton’s Bridge. They needed the honey.

  She stepped out of the building and into the crowded city in the forest. Tressa shook her head at her foolishness. She’d thought escaping the fog was the only obstacle she had to overcome. Then it was killing Stacia. Every action she’d taken opened up her village and the people she loved to more danger. It occurred to her that she might never have a moment’s rest again.

  Jarrett stood not far away, leaning against a post for tying up horses. His dark skin framed his pearly smile. He bowed. “Ready, my lady?”

  Tressa had changed into a dress provided by the wife of the physic. It was the first time she’d worn one in a long time and she wasn’t sure she liked it. Tressa smiled and Jarrett helped her mount a horse he had procured for her. It pranced, kicking up dirt. Tressa’s heart fluttered. The horse trotted around and she held on tight. There was a first time for everything.

  She pulled the skirt up, revealing a pair of riding breeches underneath.

  Jarrett laughed. “You’re always prepared, aren’t you?”

  “No, but that’s never stopped me before.”

  They rode out of the city, hoping no one would notice Stacia was dead before they got back.

  EPILOGUE

  The wind caressed the underside of his wings as he flew through the afternoon sky toward the northeast. Away from the city. Away from civilization to the quiet of the forest near the mouth of a river. It had whispered its name to him. The Snake.

  He understood the name. From above he saw how it wound through the forest. It was also dangerous and unforgiving. He’d nearly lost his most treasured possession the first time he’d found it. The object he carried with him was too precious to be swallowed by the river.

  He’d hidden it in the forest.

  With the others.

  The horde of dragon eggs he’d stolen, one by one, and spirited away in the night to the nest he’d made for them in the hollow of an ancient tree.

  Thirteen eggs.

  Whe
n the change first happened, he thought he was dying. His skin burned like flames. It stretched and tore until he thought some unseen force was ripping him to shreds. It was more painful than the day the woman had killed him with her braid.

  The bars disappeared for him, just as they did every time the woman visited and had her way with him.

  He’d taken the egg in his mouth, for now that he was the same magical beast, he knew it for what it was. His seed had contributed to its being. Caring for it was all he knew.

  The dragon, who had once been a man, wandered the dark cave, looking for others. All he found were dead men behind bars, their bodies wrapped around the eggs. No more alive than the straw nests built around them.

  One by one, the navy dragon carried the eggs carefully between his jaws, away from the tunnels under the castle. His only instinct was to save them. Last, he took his egg to the hiding place in the forest. He would come back for them after he killed the female dragon who had raped him. Ruined him. Changed him.

  Now she was dead. He was free.

  He lay down next to the nest he’d built with twigs, leaves, and mud from the riverbank. His tail wound around the pile of eggs and he closed his eyes to sleep.

  Until a cracking noise disturbed the quiet, starry night.

  The story continues with…

  HUNTED

  Dragonlands: Book Two

  * * * * *

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  Afterword

  Thank you so much for reading HIDDEN. I hope you had a good time reading it.

  There are some really great ways to stay in touch with me and learn about upcoming releases. I would love to hear from you!

  * Continue the story with the sequel, Hunted, coming in 2014. Add HUNTED to your Goodreads list:

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  XoXo,

  Megg

  Acknowledgements

  This book was a labor of love for more than a year, which means I have a ton of people to thank.

  First, thanks to my army of editors—Angela Carlie, Deena Viviani, Dennis Kuhn, Michael “Googs” Gugerty, Valerie Burleigh, and Karly Kirkpatrick.

  A huge thanks to Lisa Jenn Bigelow for crafting Hidden’s description.

  Steven Novak makes the best covers in the world! Thanks, Steven!

  Thanks also to Bobbi Kilbarger for naming Vinya.

  Stefanie Verish created the most amazing map for my series. Thank you!!!!

  My family can’t go without mention. They put up with my weird work hours and strange outbursts when plot points would magically descend on me during dinner. Most of all, they’re understanding when I need to work. Love them so much!

  Finally, a huge thanks to fellow fantasy author Daniel Arenson, who held my virtual hand for the past few months and talked me out of quitting a million times. Hidden wouldn’t be here without him.

  * * * * *

  BOOKS BY MEGG JENSEN

  Young Adult Fantasy Novels

  Cloud Prophet Trilogy:

  Anathema (2011)

  Oubliette (2011)

  Severed (2012)

  The Swarm Trilogy:

  Sleepers (2011)

  Afterlife (2012)

  The Sundering (2012)

  The Initiate—a short story prequel

  The Song of Eloh Saga

  —all of the above stories combined into one volume

  Young Adult Contemporary Novels

  Shucked (2013)

  Find Megg’s Books on Amazon

  MAGIC OF THIEVES

  LEGENDS OF DIMMINGWOOD: BOOK ONE

  C. GREENWOOD

  Copyright © 2012 C. Greenwood

  Edited by Eyes for Editing

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Excepting brief review quotes, this book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the express written permission of the copyright holder. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, real events, locations, or organizations is purely coincidental.

  A BEGINNING

  The brisk autumn wind plays through my hair and tugs at my clothes impatiently, as if trying to pull me down the forest trail more quickly. Each new gust sends a storm of red and ocher leaves showering to the earth to crunch beneath my boots as I follow a well-remembered path to a better remembered destination, one that has been my home for a long time. One that will be my home no more after today.

  Unwilling to explore the feelings accompanying that realization, I jerk my thoughts quickly in a safer direction. It’s surprisingly easy to feel hopeful right now, despite the previous day’s events. The birds are noisy in the trees overhead and the sun is rising in the sky to warm my back. Or possibly that reassuring warmth is radiating from something less dependable than the sun—the bow slung across my back. The bow often grows warm, glowing with an eerie light for no apparent reason. I’m still not used to that. I’m not used to a great many things, not the least of which is the plan before me and all that led me to it.

  As my steps draw me nearer to Red Rock camp, I find my memories drifting to an area less familiar, to a time and place almost forgotten, and to a voice lost to me many years ago …

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Hurry, little one. We must be ready as soon as Da pulls the cart up to the door.” Mama’s voice was tense and her hands were busy as she spoke, shoving food and provisions into a bag.

  “I’m trying, Mama,” I whined. “But I cannot find my boots.”

  “Never mind. There’s no more time,” she said, snatching a woolen scarf from a peg on the wall and kneeling to wind it around my head and shoulders. I couldn’t understand the reason behind the tight lines around her mouth or the dread filling her eyes.

  She said, “You’ll be riding in the cart, so we’ll just wrap your feet up snug in a blanket. Come now, quickly.”

  She grabbed my thin shoulders and pushed me toward the door. Her grip dug painfully into my flesh and I gave a little squeal of protest, but she appeared not to hear it.

  I was amazed at being permitted to go outdoors with bare feet in the dead of winter, something that had never happened according to my short memory. I still wore my sleeping gown beneath my cloak, and my silver-white hair remained matted and uncombed.

  Mama threw open the door and an icy blast of wind slapped me in the face, cutting through my clothing. I peered out through the torrential sleet and into the dim world ahead. It was not yet light out, but I could just see far enough ahead to make out Da pulling the cart into the yard, our old nag hitched to the front.

  Grabbing my wrist, Mama dragged me out the door and down the front step, moving with surprising strength for a woman so small. My naked feet barely touched the frozen ground but when they did the cold of the sleet-spattered mud made me cringe, so I ran as fast as my short legs could carry me across the yard.

  A shrill scream erupted suddenly in the distance. Carried on the wind, it echoed across the valley, rising over the gale of the storm.

  Fear shot up my spine as Mama froze for a moment, looking off toward the hills ringing our farm. A little village lay just over the near rise, but it was impossible to see beneath the darkness and the thick vei
l of the blizzard.

  Spurred by the scream and the series of chilling cries that followed, Mama took to her heels again. I stumbled over the frozen earth and she grabbed me up in her slender arms, carrying me the rest of the way to the cart. I could feel her heart thudding against my ear as she ran, her breath rasping in and out as she stumbled to a halt alongside the wagon.

  Then I was passed into Da’s strong arms and lifted upward.

  “They’re coming!” Mama had to shout at him to be heard over the wind. “They’re in the village!”

  “I heard.” Da sounded unrushed. His eyes met hers over the top of my head and she seemed to grow calmer beneath his steady gaze.

  She said, “We’ve no chance of outrunning the soldiers. Not in a cart.”

  “Not together,” he agreed. “But with the weight of only two you might make it.”

  “Habon, what are you saying?”

  Da didn’t answer immediately, settling me down quickly in the bed of the cart and giving me a reassuring pat on the head.

  “I want you to make for Borlan’s farm on the other side of the ridge,” he told Mama. “Borlan’s a magickless, but he’s a good neighbor and I believe he’ll hide you from the Praetor’s Fists. At any rate, he’s your only chance.”

  “I won’t go without you,” she insisted.

  Da turned his back to her, making a hasty check of the nag’s harness. “You must, Ada. You understand what has to be done for the sake of the child. Quickly now, get into the cart.”

  Another unexpected cry rent the air—not the terrified scream of a distant villager this time, but a ferocious howl of bloodlust. The shout was swiftly echoed by a host of others, each sounding closer than the last.

  I fixed my eyes on the dark line of the ridge in the distance, knowing at any moment something terrible was going to crest the rise, even if I couldn’t guess what. I heard Mama choke on a sob, was aware of her falling into Da’s arms, but couldn’t tear my gaze from the hill. A handful of shadowy figures on horseback suddenly vaulted over the rise and into view. Then, what looked like an entire army was pouring down the hillside like a flood, aimed directly at us.