by LeRoy Clary
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Dragon! Book Two: “Revenge”
1st Edition
Copyright May 2016 LeRoy Clary
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduce, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law
Cover Design Contributors: Aliencat/Bigstock.com and Karen Clary
Books by LeRoy Clary
The 6Tth Ransom
Blade of Lies: The Micha Silverthorne Story
Dragon! Series
Dragon! Book One: Stealing The Egg
Dragon! Book Two: “Revenge”
Dragon Clan Series
Dragon Clan #1: Camilla’s Story
Dragon Clan #2: Raymer’s Story
Dragon Clan #3: Fleet’s Story
Dragon Clan #4: Gray’s Story
Dragon Clan #5: Tanner’s Story
Dragon Clan #6: Anna’s Story (Available Summer 2016)
TABLE OF CONTEXT
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
AUTHOR’S NOTES
CHAPTER ONE
The illusion of a peaceful world was shattered violently one afternoon in early spring for Gareth, all of the Sisterhood, and the half of the Brotherhood; all with ‘sensitive’ powers to receive thoughts from a distance. They stopped whatever they were doing and slumped to the ground in unison, writhing in pain before falling unconscious.
The phenomena only touched them, those who could communicate with their thoughts, ideas, and images without words. Most recovered by dawn and tried explaining what had occurred. All failed.
Most chose words to explain which conveyed the effect of a black cloth draped over their heads that worked its way down their body until nothing else existed. Their minds were then filled with dank, dark, flashes of vivid colors and deep feelings of intense pain.
Those who were affected agreed on one thing in particular—Someone had ripped the peace and tranquility from their world and was intent on doing more. Nearly all put aside petty differences and swore to band together to find and eliminate the source of the disruption. Only Gareth, the outsider who possessed sensitive powers beyond others retained his distance and anonymity.
* * *
Sara helped Gareth climb out of bed and supported him. With her help, he limped onto the front porch of the island cabin, slipped into his favorite wicker chair, and wrapped a blanket around his shoulders to ward off the morning chill.
She said, “Are you all right? Can you talk to me about what happened?”
Before speaking, he chose his words. “There were things inside my mind. Terrible things. Ideas and pictures. They brought so much pain I blanked out.”
“You fell down in the garden like someone smashed your head with an ax handle. During the night, you screamed out as if you were being tortured in the King’s own dungeons. You thrashed around and once went into a trance so deep we couldn’t rouse you.”
Gareth hung his head until his chin rested on his chest. His eyes closed in a futile effort to blot out the details but continued. “It was horrible; the things I saw in my mind.” He paused again, as the tears fell. “My father’s dead.”
Sara pulled back, then placed a hand on his forearm drawing his attention. “Oh no. How?”
“He was tortured. They ripped his mind out of him and stripped it away like peeling away layers, or like picking the petals off a flower one at a time and throwing them to the side.”
“How can that be? I feel so sorry for him. And you.”
Gareth raised his eyes and looked at her through the streaming tears. “He fought back, you know. He refused to give anything to them, but they took it, pulling it out of him. They grabbed what was in his mind and left him lying on the ground like a discarded container of honey.”
“You know this how?” she asked, crying along with him. “You watched part of it happen?”
“He was strong to the end. Before they invaded his mind, he isolated a small portion and used all his efforts and energy to defend it, like making a fist in his head. He held on to it. He touched my mind with that portion to warn me even as they attacked.”
“That’s the kind of wonderful man he was,” Sara sobbed. “Thinking of you and trying to help even while they were killing him.”
“They finally broke him. One of them found a way inside his mind and came to me along the thread we used to talk.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
Gareth knew mere words never communicated the abilities of sensitives well or completely. “The thread, or link that he used to touch my mind. Someone else took it over.”
“This other person used it to talk with you?”
“Threatened, is more accurate. He stole the information in my father’s head and then came to me and said that I am next.”
Sara was on her feet, her hands to her mouth, her eyes wide. “He’s coming here?”
“Along with others.”
“What are we going to do?”
“My father warned us in time. We have to flee, but he also managed to give me a kernel of thought that contained additional information they do not know about. While they were stripping his mind, he gathered information about them from their minds. They put up no defenses as they attacked and he did the unthinkable. He did to them what they were doing to him—but without their knowledge.”
“He shared that with you?”
“Yes. I have to go to him.”
“Of course. I understand, but he’ll be long buried before you arrive. What of your father’s dragon, Cinder? And us?”
“I don’t know all of it, yet. Cinder can survive on his own. There are plenty of sheep and deer to feed on. You and everyone else will travel by ship to Vespa as we planned. Remember when we first came here, I purchased a farm there in case we ever needed to flee.”
“Vespa. In the lowlands. Way up north and you’re going to the mainland.”
Taking her hand in his, he said, “You have to be safe with the family. I’ll join you as soon as I can.”
“Will we ever return here?”
“I hope so, but they’ll come here soon, and everyone needs to be gone. We have to tell the family about Vespa. Today.”
Sara picked up a straw broom and swept the clean porch steps again, but finally paused and turned. “Telling them will be so hard.”
“
I know. But the alternative is to remain and die. At least, that’s what’s most likely to happen. We’ll talk to them. Explain.”
“You’ll leave with the next supply ship I assume?”
“I will. Another will come to carry the family to safety.”
Sara sighed and remained quiet. He stole a glance at her, knowing her fear exceeded his because she didn’t really understand, and he didn’t know how to explain. She appeared calm and beautiful, as always. Her age-lined face and dark hair that now contained streaks of gray gave her an exotic appearance. She looked perhaps fifty but was more attractive than most women at thirty.
In contrast, his body hadn’t aged since the dragon egg hatched and they bonded in their unique manner so many years ago. As the man that he called his ‘father,' also didn’t age. He also looked twenty. So did his father. And his before that.
She lifted her chin and said, “Send Blackie on ahead. Tell him to fly as fast as he can.”
Gareth turned and faced her. “I already have. Early this morning when I first woke.”
Sara nodded, compassion clear in her voice when she spoke with a brave smile. She stroked his head, in an obvious attempt to soothe him. She said, “Years ago, you know you promised to change Blackie’s name. We both agreed it’s not a dignified name for such an important dragon.”
The faint smile on Gareth’s lips equaled hers. “My father thinks it’s funny that such a great black dragon has such a simple name.”
“I’ll never understand how you speak to your dragon with your mind, let alone how the Brotherhood and Sisterhood mind-talk with each other.”
“Does an artist explain how he paints? Or how a singer sings a song? They just do it.”
“Never mind talking about it again. But if he’s dead, you will be the one who watches over and protects others. Gareth will no longer just be your name. It will be your title. You will be The Gareth. That is a great responsibility. Are you prepared to assume your adopted father’s duties?”
His eyes teared up again, looking out over the water but not seeing anything. At last, he said, “I’ve been training with him for years. I’m prepared, but not ready, if that makes sense.”
“Because you’re too comfortable living here, or because he’s been making all the decisions for hundreds of years?” She put the broom aside and sat in the other chair beside him, which allowed him the time to gather his thoughts. Two of their dozen grandchildren played in the grass beside the house under the watchful eyes of Sara, Little Tad and his cousin, Micah.
In a foul mood, Gareth watched the waves rolling onto the tropical shore of his beach, curling and crashing onto the black rocks standing in the surf and looking like teeth that had fallen from a giant’s mouth. One wave after another would eventually grind down the rocks into sand. Gareth would live to watch it happen over a dozen lifetimes. His eyes remained vacant as Gareth watched the waves and shoreline while his mind drifted elsewhere.
“It’s not your fault.” The words sounded soft and feminine, and Sara’s caress on his thigh even more so. The surroundings were so peaceful he should be lulled into a pleasant dreamlike existence. Yet, he couldn’t escape the feeling that he’d missed something important in the events of the day before.
Gareth sighed, “We’ve been happy here for a long time. It’s been good.”
Sara poured a mug of cold water before offering it to Gareth. Thinking first before speaking had always been her way. When she chose to talk again, she said, “Which really means you’re concerned about our future and trying not to say so.”
Gareth looked at the two grandchildren playing together on the grass. He saw the resemblance of Sara in both. The girl, although less than five, already imitated Sara’s movements and soft manners. She often cocked her head to listen to her young cousin in the same way that Sara sometimes looked at Gareth.
The boy also had her soft features, but he was the daring one of the pair. He scooped some damp beach sand, tossed it high into the air and watched it break apart and fall. Much of it struck him in the face. A wail of protest followed.
“Oh, now look at what you’ve done,” Sara cooed, as she raced to his side and quickly hugged him until the crying stopped.
The episode gave Gareth the time to reach out and briefly join the mind of Blackie, a familiar action performed several times a day. Gareth found him in flight and looked through the eyes of the dragon. He soared high above the water, his mind agitated and wary, what there was of it. For a beast so large, the mind was small.
Today Blackie’s limited intelligence relayed cold and empty responses--and confused anger. The welcoming warmth that normally greeted Gareth was also missing. It felt as if Gareth had entered the mind of a frightened stranger.
Gareth looked down to the ocean far below and noticed a seal break the surface, then several more as they hunted their fish breakfasts. They were the usual snacks for the dragon, but instead of swooping lower in his normal attack mode and grabbing a few, Blackie raised his head and looked off into the distance, into the direction where he had been hatched.
Glancing around to ensure none of the family were nearby, Gareth watched Sara take her seat again, and he leaned closer and said, “I have to tell you something else.”
“This sounds serious,” her shoulders slumped as she faced him, waiting for more bad news.
“Since my father has died, I’ve ‘listened’ all morning trying to find some trace of him, something that might indicate he is alive. I keep thinking he might be injured and that I can help. My mind has been seeking for his mind-touch. Damn, this is so hard to explain because there are no words.”
“Go on,” Sara prompted, now sitting erect.
“I cannot reach him, but I have touched another. Our grandson is beginning to broadcast his feelings.”
“Tad? He’s like you?”
She sounded alarmed, and Gareth knew that Sara never had liked Amy, Tad’s mother, who often distanced herself from them. Amy came from the coastal city of Anther, a place rumored to have three girls born for every boy, and finding a suitable mate was the goal of every one of them, at any cost. Sara had always believed Amy trapped their son, Paul into a marriage, and she never really loved him, despite their seemingly happy marriage. He allowed Sara time to digest the information and partially sort it out.
“Yes, he’s like me,” he finally said.
Sara spoke in a reserved tone, but still sounding scared. “Tad’s only six. Were you aware of your abilities at six?”
“Not me, but others knew. Remember, the Brotherhood kidnapped me and hid me in the mountains at Dun Mare where they schooled me, and incidentally, where I met you.”
“Of course, I know all that. Do Tad’s abilities worry you? I mean, will others hear him with their minds?”
Gareth drew in a deep breath before speaking. “Yes. I’m very worried. But, don’t tell anyone, yet.”
“Why not?”
“As near as I can tell, his abilities are just like mine, and maybe stronger. For now, I can protect him by shielding his thoughts so we’re safe and have time to figure out what to do.”
Sara waited before whispering, “Tad can do both things with his mind? Listen and send?”
“There're only hints of his full powers, but I sense them developing, and I guess they have for a while. I have a soft blanket spread over him muting his thoughts, but when he is in pain or excited I have to concentrate fully to keep them to himself or others will certainly hear. Once they know he exists, they’ll do anything to figure out where he is, and there’s no way to protect him. Meanwhile, I also have to keep up my own broadcasting of dangers around our island to keep ships away. I’m running out of parts of my mind to spare.”
“Again I don’t understand.”
“Have you ever concentrated on doing two things at once?”
“I’m a mother. I do it all the time.”
“This is doing three things all at the same time,” he tried to keep from smiling at her answe
r.
“The only problem that I see is that you are a man so you are used to only thinking about one thing at a time.”
Trying to put the conversation back on track he continued as if he missed the insult, “I can keep my mind on those two things, as well as what is happening to me, but not if I get sick or fall again like yesterday. Once those forces know of Tad, there’s no turning back.”
“Then what will you do?”
“I’m not sure what to do with Tad, but keeping him calm so his thoughts don’t go out of control will help. He needs to be close to me so I can blanket his thoughts from going out to everyone sensitive. I can teach him how to control his loose thinking, but it will take time.”
“So now we have to keep a six-year-old calm, and you must stay close to him to educate him on how to protect his mind. At the same time, you’re going away. Plus, how can you do this with his mind without telling his mother and father of his abilities?”
“Remember what the Brotherhood did with me? Put me in a remote valley with only one road in. Then they shielded my thoughts even though I lived that part of my life without knowing of my abilities.”
“Until a dragon grabbed you in its claws and flew away with you like some prince in a fairytale,” she chuckled.”
“Well, yes, there was that,” he smiled, trying to remove the sting of the news about Tad.
“You have to tell his parents.”
Even while speaking with Sara, Gareth took a quick mental watch through Blackie’s eyes every few minutes. He reached out for a hint of a touch of the mind of his mentor and felt nothing. Thankfully, he didn’t feel the evilness that had attacked him in the garden.
Then, thin as a wisp of smoke on a calm evening he touched the warped mind of a stranger who was emitting his thoughts without the benefit of any shielding or protection. It was powerful, although untrained. Carefully, Gareth entered a tendril of the strange mind and felt hate, fear, self-loathing, and ill-humor. All were tangled and twisted. He withdrew before being detected and locked his mind down as firmly as possible.