Dragon Plagued: Chronicles of Dragon Aerie Young Adult Fantasy Fiction (Plague Born Book 2)

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Dragon Plagued: Chronicles of Dragon Aerie Young Adult Fantasy Fiction (Plague Born Book 2) Page 9

by Travis Simmons


  She cried out when a blow took her in the shoulder, her arm tingling and numb from the attack.

  “Maybe go easier on her?” Millie spoke for the first time, rocking the baby in her arms.

  “No such luck,” Josef said, stepping back. “If you’re worried, you could make yourself useful and channel-heal her.”

  Millie sighed and sat the baby in the sand so she could watch them as well. The baby had a huge smile on her face, and whenever Josef looked at her, she would giggle.

  :Look, someone who agrees with you!: Lissandra said, and chuckled when Wylan blustered some kind of intelligible response.

  Green energy bloomed to the surface of Millie’s skin, giving her a sickening look. The nimbus of light drifted from her hands, snaking across the ground to pool at their feet. Wylan could feel the warmth of her healing energy spreading up through her legs. Where it touched, the pain of Josef’s previous attacks vanished. In fact, if it was possible, her legs felt better than they had since starting the adventure with the two wyverns.

  Soon Josef and she were surrounded in an aura of green energy.

  “Why did you do me too?” Josef wondered.

  “She’s a red wyvern. I bet before long she’s going to get pissed and cream you.”

  “Hmmph,” was all Josef said before launching at Wylan again.

  This time was harder for Wylan to keep up. Her arms were tired, despite the healing energy that surrounded her, and her feet fumbled over drifts of sand as she tried to get away from his attacks. But now when the flat of his blade struck her, it stung, but it didn’t throb. She could feel the healing energy rush over her skin to the sore spot and moments later, the stinging was gone.

  She was panting and tired before Josef let up. She sagged to her knees, sweat sticking her shirt to her skin. Her black hair was soaked, and the ground seemed to dance in time with her racing heart.

  “How are you going to fight dragons like this?” Josef taunted, dancing away from her. He was sweating as well, but he didn’t seem to be out of breath like she was. She dragged her gaze from him and eased to a crouch.

  Wylan couldn’t stop—not now. She used her crouching position to launch at him, her blade swinging down when she reached the apex of her jump. Josef hadn’t been expecting it, his eyes went wide and he got his blade up in time to block her blow. There was strength behind it. She could feel the wyvern soul rising to the surface, drawn out of hiding by the prospect of a fight.

  Josef’s sword rang with a dull thrum through the evening air. He gasped as the vibration reached his wrist, but he held firm. Now he was the one on the defensive. Wylan hammered at him with all she had, her sword crashing down time and again on his blocking sword. Josef merely moved away from her, he didn’t flash his sword around to parry attacks, because there was only one attack, her downward stroke.

  When he had enough, he kicked her backwards with the sole of his foot. Wylan tumbled away from him, her ass planting firm in the sand.

  Millie was laughing. “The red rears its ugly head.”

  “No kidding!” Josef shook his sword hand and Wylan could see a concentration of green energy around that wrist. “She wasn’t even using the flat of her blade. Good thing she only knew one move.”

  “Almost battered her way through your defenses though,” Millie noted.

  “Yea.”

  The green energy seeped from them then and Wylan could feel the exhaustion in her muscles, the throb of her bones from the constant collision of sword on sword. She was lightheaded, and the ground swirled around her. She barely made it to her side before she threw up her dinner.

  “She’s really exhausted,” Millie said. “That’s enough for tonight.”

  Wylan hoped that Millie’s care for her physical pain meant that she was starting to forgive her. And why shouldn’t she? Wylan thought. It was one mistake, I’m sure it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as she put on. It’s not like they were in any real danger.

  :You betrayed her,: Lissandra said.

  :You could have helped me,: Wylan shot back.

  :I did help you. If I’d have taken out those hyenas, you likely would have made it to the dragons before Josef found you.:

  :But that’s what I wanted!:

  :Sorry, but I’d like to live through that encounter,: Lissandra snipped.

  “I agree,” Josef said. “I thought you were healing her?”

  “Channel-healing only sustains a person and heals their wounds, it doesn’t ward off fatigue or the worked muscles when they’re done.”

  Wylan vomited until she didn’t think there was anything left to come up other than her guts. Still she heaved several times before her stomach calmed and her body realized she wasn’t, in fact, going to die.

  “All right, let’s get you back to camp,” Josef said. He helped her to stand and they walked the several feet to where they’d left their bags. “Rest for a while, I will go get you another lizard to eat.”

  The thought of eating was enough to make her want to throw up again, but when she started to protest, Josef ignored her, stripped the rest of the way, and changed into the small blue wyvern.

  :You must be sick, you didn’t even check me out this time,: Josef taunted and took wing.

  Lissandra roared with laughter.

  Wylan groaned.

  “I have to make amends with Josephine,” Millie told her. “I will take Kira, you rest here.”

  Wylan only nodded. She was afraid if she spoke that she’d ruin whatever good mood Millie was showing her, so she kept silent.

  She watched Millie vanish over the next dune and out into the gathering darkness.

  When Wylan had thought of wyverns before, it was as a person cursed to change into a wyrm at will, or against their will. It was never as a person forming a bond with the dragon-like creature inside of them that thought, and felt, and could turn their back on you at a whim.

  :So, what is it you’d like from me?: Wylan asked Lissandra.

  :To live,: she said.

  Wylan harrumphed at her. :Besides that. What can I do for you that will allow me to change?:

  :You aren’t ready to hear what I want from you,: Lissandra told her.

  :And why’s that?:

  :Because you still harbor too much hate for the blue dragon.:

  :Do you deny me my revenge?:

  :Not at all, his kind need to die,: Lissandra rumbled.

  :Then what can I do for you?:

  Lissandra let out something akin to a sigh, but didn’t answer her.

  Wylan growled.

  Josef returned, and despite her reluctance to eat, Lissandra was famished and took over.

  Once her hunger was sated, the wyvern crawled back into its hiding place deep within her. Full and exhausted, Wylan flopped back into the sand. She tried to put her arms behind her head, but her muscles screamed, so she folded them over her stomach.

  Wylan’s eyes traveled to the nimbus of purple stars in the night sky. They were brighter than the moon that night, the purple glow of the clouds that surrounded the swirl of stars shone like a gossamer curtain hanging over the heavens.

  Her muscles hurt from the rigorous training Josef had just put her through, and it felt good to lay back in the sand and stare at the Great Above, where the good spirits were said to reside. It hurt to think of Cuthburt and Kethill no longer among the living, no longer making their way in the long desert. They were miles from her now—if the Great Above was truly more than a star cluster—they were far beyond her reach. For a moment she wished that she were a yellow wyvern, maybe then she’d have some kind of hope in reaching them, talking to them one more time to see if they were okay.

  Josef sat beside her, and then lay back, his eyes trained on the Great Above. “Legends say that the good spirits live in complete bliss and happiness.”

  He was close enough to Wylan that she could feel his heat. It caused a strange sensation to stir in her belly that had nothing to do with the wyvern. She tried not to think about how Jose
f had looked earlier in the day, gleeful and happy to spar with her. His smell engulfed her, and it was enough to make her head dance. Her heart raced harder than when she’d seen him naked. This had nothing to do with lust and more to do with him, his essence.

  “What do you think?” he turned his head to look at her.

  She looked to him, but couldn’t look into his blue eyes or else she might not be able to fight off the feelings that told her to touch him, pull him into her arms and let him quench the fire roaring in her lower parts.

  “I don’t know what I believe,” she said. Her voice was husky, and she hoped Josef didn’t notice it for what it was. If he did, he stayed silent…for once. “I grew up reading stories of myths and legends and thinking that’s all they were—just stories. Now so much of what I thought wasn’t real is turning out to be very real.”

  “What does your gut say?” Josef wondered.

  Her gut was saying a lot of things right then, none of which she wanted Josef to know. She lay there for several moments, feeling his warmth and smelling his drying sweat. “That it’s all a lie. There is no Great Above. The good spirits don’t exist. We tell ourselves that there’s something better after this life so we aren’t afraid of dying and so we can find some hope in life, knowing something better waits for us.”

  “Wow,” Josef said. “Cynical for someone so young.”

  “Do you believe it?” she wondered.

  Josef shrugged. “I like to believe there’s something more, but I just don’t know. My fear tells me the same thing you think. There’s nothing there, only stars.”

  Hearing him agree was frightening to her. It was one thing to think for herself that nothing was beyond the long desert, waiting for her after she died. It was completely different to hear someone agree with her. She had hoped he would tell her that he knew it existed, that he’d seen dead loved ones in some irrefutable way that proved to him that the Great Above wasn’t just a dream.

  “But I don’t know,” he said. “There’s a lot of strange things that exist. Those ghosts back in that town, they were real. If ghosts exist, doesn’t it mean there’s at least something waiting for us after death?”

  “I suppose,” Wylan said. “I’ve heard a lot of people claim to have dreams of loved ones who’ve died. They think it’s their way of saying good-bye, letting them know they’re okay and not to worry about them.”

  “Do you believe them?” Josef wondered.

  “I want to,” she said.

  “I sense there’s a but coming.”

  “But if that’s the case, why haven’t my mom and dad visited me?”

  Josef sighed. “Who knows how the spirit world might work?”

  Wylan remained silent. Tears welled up in her eyes and she didn’t bother hiding them. She missed her parents so bad that, at times, it felt like there was a hole in her body that she couldn’t fill. It terrified her that she was so far away from home, and that she would never return. It was harrowing to think the last time she’d seen her mother healthy was the last time she’d ever see Kethill smile. She wouldn’t hear her sing while she made dinner again and she wouldn’t listen to her father’s cracks that her singing sounded like dragons mating.

  “It will be okay,” Josef told her. He was looking at her again, but she didn’t care. She let the tears out anyway. Josef scooted closer and slid his arm under her head. She rolled into him and let the tears free. She sobbed as he wrapped his arms around her. While she cried he ran his hands over her back, and she felt that he truly cared, that he was there for her, and in his arms she never needed to fear. Sometime during her crying, she fell asleep.

  She dreamed of her mother. It wasn’t like the dreams of the good spirits people claimed to have. It was a nightmare.

  Wylan stood in the long desert, nothing about her but sand and the sun high above, but there was a noise. It was a noise she first mistook for wind, a kind of wail that howled around her home and moaned along the eaves. The shriek grew louder as the wind increased, and on the wind there was a smell like burning flesh. Wylan felt heat behind her, heat that was more than the sun, heat that felt of death and disease.

  She turned to see a tower of fire behind her, coming closer. At the base of the flames she could see the hint of feet shambling across the sand—blackened, cracked, and seeping a red fluid into the shifting earth. She knew before she could see any of the features that this was Kethill. There was part of her mind that recognized the energy leaking from the flames as belonging to her mother.

  She stepped back, shook her head, and moaned, “no.”

  Don’t do this to me. Don’t let the only dream I have of my mother be one of her burning.

  The figure plodded closer, an arm extending out of the flames to point at Wylan. The hand was aflame, cracked and charred as the feet. The hand sizzled, from the cracked flesh fat and blood oozed, flaming to fall to the ground where it smoldered in the sand.

  “No!” Wylan cried out, coming awake.

  Josef tightened his arm around her. Millie snored beside her.

  “It’s okay,” Josef said. His lips were hot and wet on her forehead. “It will be all right.”

  She tilted her head up to him and looked into his blue eyes. She felt unstable, as if the ground shifted beneath her. It was as if she were seeing his eyes for the first time, truly seeing who Josef was behind all of his joking and bravado.

  She saw tenderness there, caring and the need to help. She also saw fear.

  He leaned down, his mouth slanting over hers.

  Her heart raced. She was terrified and excited all at once. Regions lower in her body flared with need, with want. She pushed higher against him, her mouth meeting his. His lips were soft like velvet against her mouth, his tongue was wet when it darted between her lips. He tasted of lust and freedom, if those things even had a taste.

  His kiss was watery, refreshing as if she drank from a bottomless, untapped spring. She moaned into his mouth, and he pulled her closer to him. She could feel the need, the want, in his arms, in the rigid way he held her close to him.

  He pulled away long before she wanted him to.

  “Not here,” he said. “Not right now.”

  She let out a pitiful moan and stared into his eyes.

  Didn’t he want her? Wasn’t she good enough? He’d probably been with countless women; why would he want her?

  Something of her fear must have shown in her eyes because Josef shook his head. “It’s not like that. Millie is right here, and the baby.”

  “Oh,” Wylan said. She blushed. She knew Josef could damper the fire raging inside of her, she just hadn’t expected it to go out quite like that. The thought of Millie laying so close was enough to put the fire out completely and make her feel foolish for even wanting anything at that moment.

  Josef chuckled and pulled her close to him and that’s where she slept the rest of the night.

  “That’s enough,” Josef said, dropping his fighting stance. “You’re doing much better.” He smiled at her, his full lips sweeping up in a graceful arch. He mopped his forehead with his shirt before tucking it into the back of his trousers. Josef stepped toward her, and that’s all it took for all the blood to rush to her face and her to stop thinking rationally. “So, about last night?” Josef asked.

  Wylan didn’t think it was possible to blush more than what she already was and she looked to her boots as if they held the answer to dispelling her attraction.

  “Don’t be shy about it,” he said. “I just want to acknowledge what happened. I also wanted to tell you that being newly wyvern can do that to you as well.”

  “Make me jump the closest hot guy?” Wylan asked.

  Josef waggled his eyebrows at her. “You think I’m hot?”

  Wylan punched him in the shoulder. “We’ve established that.”

  “Well, technically you called me pretty. Hot is on an entirely different level. Hot is like radiant and powerful—” he flexed and scrunched up his mouth and neither action hel
ped her racing heart. “Pretty is like a flower.”

  “Oh, thanks for the clarification,” Wylan couldn’t help the laugh that colored her words. “So you think all last night was just our wyverns acting up?”

  “Well, what do you think? I know it wasn’t just my wyvern.”

  Wylan didn’t know what to think. She was attracted to Josef, but he was several years older than her. She didn’t necessarily have an issue with that, but it was a fact she couldn’t ignore. There was also the issue of how Millie acted toward Josef and the little jabs she threw his way about all the women he’d been through…and Marcella. She couldn’t deny how her body felt against him last night—the insatiable fire that had burned through her lower regions or the desire and need she felt for Josef. Had that all been her wyvern?

  Josef’s face was suddenly serious. “Those jokes that Millie throws at me. I want you to know that I’m not really a scoundrel.”

  Was she projecting her thoughts again, like she had before she learned to speak to him mentally?

  “I may be just a lonely girl from a water farm, but I’m not dumb,” Wylan told him. “I know that actions speak louder than words.”

  Josef just nodded. She didn’t mean it to come across as offensive. She wasn’t calling him a liar; it had just come out wrong. “So I have to prove it to you, huh?”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “No, it’s okay. It’s smart not to trust someone that you barely know,” he told her. His voice was sincere, even if his face lost its smile. “Don’t worry, I will prove it to you, if that’s what it takes.”

  “It’s just…you’re right, we barely know one another. Shouldn’t we just enjoy our time together? Get to know one another?”

  “Yea, you’re right.”

  “No need to make this something it isn’t.”

  “And what is it?”

  “I don’t know.” Wylan shrugged. “Do we have to define it? Aren’t we friends?”

  Josef nodded. He plastered a smile on his face. “Of course we are.” Wylan could see through the smile though, and it didn’t make her feel good. There was a hardness to his eyes now, a rigid set of his shoulders that wasn’t there before. It was as if he were waiting for a blow.

 

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