Twin Soul Series
Winner Twins
and
Todd McCaffrey
Books 1-5
Boxed Set
Winter Wyvern Copyright © 2018 by Brianna Winner, Brittany Winner, and Todd J. McCaffrey. Second Edition.
Cloud Conqueror Copyright © 2018 by Brianna Winner, Brittany Winner, and Todd J. McCaffrey. First Edition.
Frozen Sky Copyright © 2019 by Brianna Winner, Brittany Winner, and Todd J. McCaffrey. Second Edition.
Wyvern’s fate Copyright © 2019 by Brianna Winner, Brittany Winner, and Todd J. McCaffrey. First Edition.
Wyvern’s Wrath Copyright © 2019 by Brianna Winner, Brittany Winner, and Todd J. McCaffrey. First Edition.
Twin Soul Series Boxed Set: Books 1-5 Copyright © 2020 by Brianna Winner, Brittany Winner, and Todd J. McCaffrey. First Edition.
All Rights Reserved. No parts of this publication may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without prior written permission of the publisher.
Cover art by Jeff Winner
Books by The Winner Twins and Todd McCaffrey
Nonfiction:
The Write Path: World Building
Books by McCaffrey-Winner
Twin Soul Series:
TS1 - Winter Wyvern
TS2 - Cloud Conqueror
TS3 - Frozen Sky
TS4 - Wyvern’s Fate
TS5 - Wyvern’s Wrath
TS6 - Ophidian’s Oath
TS7 - Snow Serpent
TS8 - Iron Air
TS9 - Ophidian’s Honor
TS10 - Healing Fire
TS11 - Ophidian’s Tears
TS12 - Cloud War
TS13 - Steel Waters
TS14 - Cursed Mage
TS15 - Wyvern’s Creed
TS16 - King’s Challenge
TS17 - King’s Conquest
TS18 - King’s Treasure
Books by The Winner Twins
Nonfiction:
The Write Path: Navigating Storytelling
Science Fiction:
The Strand Prophecy
Extinction’s Embrace
PCT: Perfect Compatibility Test
Poetry Books by Brianna Winner
Millennial Madness
Books by Todd McCaffrey
Science fiction
Ellay
The Jupiter Game
The Steam Walker
Collections
The One Tree of Luna (And Other Stories)
Dragonriders of Pern® Series
Dragon’s Kin
Dragon’s Fire
Dragon Harper
Dragonsblood
Dragonheart
Dragongirl
Dragon’s Time
Sky Dragons
Non-fiction
Dragonholder: The Life And Times of Anne McCaffrey
Dragonwriter: A tribute to Anne McCaffrey and Pern
Map
Contents
Twin Soul Series 1
Map 6
Winter Wyvern 10
Chapter One: The Gift 11
Chapter Two: Home Again 16
Chapter Three: Something Lost 18
Chapter Four: Into Town 20
Chapter Five: The Shaman 22
Chapter Six: Hat Pin 24
Chapter Seven: The Fire 25
Chapter Eight: More Tea 27
Chapter Nine: The Thief 29
Chapter Ten: The Docks 31
Chapter Eleven: Hello Krea 33
Chapter Twelve: King’s Jail 35
Chapter Thirteen: The Fugitive 37
Chapter Fourteen: Fire Within 39
Chapter Fifteen: The Edge 43
Cloud Conqueror 47
Chapter One: The Airship Spite 48
Chapter Two: The Crown Prince 51
Chapter Three: A Cannon’s Fire 54
Chapter Four: A Bitter Triumph 62
Chapter Five: The Young Apprentice 67
Chapter Six: A Wyvern’s Corpse 70
Chapter Seven: Captain of Nothing 73
Chapter Eight: A Grave Revisited 77
Chapter Nine: Meeting The Mechanical 81
Chapter Ten: Talent Of Mine 87
Frozen Sky 91
Chapter One: Half a Wyvern 92
Chapter Two: Demands 98
Chapter Three: First Flight 101
Chapter Four: Action Overhead 105
Chapter Five: Prize Money 108
Chapter Six: Payment Made 110
Chapter Seven: The Bitter North 118
Chapter Eight: A Witch’s Brew 125
Chapter Nine: Ophidian’s Coal 132
Chapter Ten: The Frozen Man 140
Wyvern’s Fate 147
Chapter One: Flight 148
Chapter Two: Meetings 151
Chapter Three: Wymarc 155
Chapter Four: The Chore 158
Chapter Five: Wandering 163
Chapter Six: The Bite 167
Chapter Seven: Krea’s Room 172
Chapter Eight: Terric’s Words 175
Chapter Nine: Gifts 179
Wyvern’s Wrath 184
Chapter One: Find Your God 185
Chapter Two: Whole New Body 191
Chapter Three: The Frozen God 196
Chapter Four: Fountain of Air 198
Chapter Five: The Wyvern’s Shriek 202
Chapter Six: Let Them Die 205
Chapter Seven: Have A Heart 208
Chapter Eight: House of Life and Death 212
Chapter Nine: Crown Prince Nestor 216
About The Twin Soul Series 218
Acknowledgements 219
About the Authors 220
Winter Wyvern
Book 1
Twin Soul series
Chapter One: The Gift
Krea was bored, and when she was bored bad things always followed. The last time she’d been bored she tried making a sword to prove that she could be a blacksmith just like her father. But, as she hammered the red-hot metal, it jumped out of her tongs, flew into the kitchen and nearly burned the whole house down. The only good thing that had come of that was Smudge, the cat, who’d been so frightened that it had raced out of the barn and right into Krea’s arms, where it promptly bit her.
“Serves you right,” her father had said later. “At least the cat’s not poisonous.”
The time before that she decided to take a poisonous spider as a pet, which bit her and — if not for the help of the local shaman — would have killed her in a matter of days.
The year before, on her fifteenth birthday, she’d taken a hammer and smashed anything that might reflect her face. That was at the end of the same day that several villagers, when her hat had blown off, taking her dark glasses with it, revealing her white hair and skin. Shocked, many of the newer villagers and tourists gawked and shunned her. Though this wasn’t the first time, it hadn’t happened for many years, and it shook her to her core.
Krea decided that
she never wanted to see herself again. She hated most that she’d shattered the marvelous pan that her father had made her mother as a wedding gift all so many years ago.
Rabel, her father, had locked her in her room for a week after that. Not long after, he took on Angus as his apprentice. They had taken to talking together outside at the forge for long hours. Occasionally, Rabel would look at Krea and shake his head sadly. Other times he’d point to his daughter, say something and Angus would turn bright red. Angus hardly talked to her and when he did, he stammered. But when he thought she wasn’t looking, he’d stare at her.
On the eve of her sixteenth birthday, Rabel had pronounced himself satisfied with Angus’ work and told Krea that she would wed Angus the next year. In the months since, Krea had alternately grown more alarmed at the future forced upon her and more intrigued with the young man who would soon be her husband.
When she was sure he wasn’t looking at her, she’d stare at him. He was strong, and well-built but sturdy in his face – not ugly but not handsome, either.
Rabel was out with Angus, selling horseshoes to the farmers at the market in town, a good hour away by horseback. Winter was coming so they wanted to sell as much as they could before the snows hindered their travels. Her father had forbidden her from going into the woods surrounding their home. He had made her swear on the names of every god that she would stay inside.
She’d promised that she’d make the evening meal and had dutifully prepared a shepherd’s pie — father’s favorite. She finished preparing and had it ready for the oven. She tidied up the kitchen, and cleaned up all the dishes with the steam-powered cleaner. She made up all the beds. Swept up all the floors.
And then she was bored. She relented to Smudge’s insistent crying and gave her one last scrap which the cat ate with much gusto and loud purring. Once Smudge had confirmed that there were no more treats, she flicked her tail up in a huff and left the kitchen, probably seeking out any mice in the barn.
With a sigh, Krea sat back on the kitchen chair. She realized that everything she’d done she’d soon be doing again every day for the rest of her life… with Angus.
She went up to her room and to the altar she had for the gods. Everyone had an altar. Some had just a few gods waiting but Krea, because she was young, had a full set of figurines. She smiled as she picked up the figurine of Ametza — the sea goddess of their ocean-side kingdom.
Ametza stood for faith, fidelity, and all things feminine. A goddess of life, protector of human sailors and those who lived off her bounty. Ametza could be fickle, fearsome, and demanding. But she was also supportive and kind. Krea held the figurine in her hands.
“Mother Ametza,” Krea said. “It’s me, Krea.” She felt the figurine grow warm in her fingers. The warmth told her the goddess was listening. “I’m bored. And I don’t want to stay inside.” She glanced out the window. The sky was clear and windy leaves were whirling, the trees were nearly bare. Winter would come any day.
“You understand, don’t you?” Krea said. “I’m to be married soon and then I’ll never get out. You don’t mind, do you? I just want to visit mother’s grave.” She felt that perhaps the mother goddess understood. With a reverent nod, she placed the figurine back among the others.
She dressed with the utmost care, telling herself that it was in penance rather than admitting it was to ensure that the sun didn’t burn her. She secured her wide-brimmed cream colored hat with her longest hatpin made of swirled silver and pearls— the only treasure from her mother. Her oval silver-rimmed sunglasses were secured with a loop of black velvet ribbon, her hair firmly tucked up inside her hat so that no stray wisps might snag and betray her. Her deep green day dress covered her calf-length walking boots so there was no danger of her being seen as improper if any prying eyes should chance upon her progress.
Dark things lay in the woods, and they liked to eat young women, her father had said. Krea was certain that he was wrong. Nothing terrible had happened to her— at least anything since she’d broken her leg racing away from strange noises in the woods when she was seven.
Carefully, Krea looked out from the door of their small brick cottage and peered to either side. She could tell by the sun she had just enough time to walk there and back, before her father returned and the sun set. He would never know. No one was around. The forest was silent. Now was her time to escape.
She gained the cover of the forest and paused to savor her triumph. Father was wrong! There was nothing to fear!
A loud noise from above startled her and her heart beat nearly out of her chest, her blood rushing through her veins. A shadow crossed over her and Krea looked up, shrinking back against a tree trunk to hide. A royal airship crossed over her, new and deadly, silent except for the puffs of steam driving its propellers. Dark smoke trailed from it — had it fired its guns? Were they practicing or had they shot at something?
Krea waited until the airship was out of sight before venturing out from the shade of the tree. She plotted her path away from the airship, back to wherever it had been, her notion of visiting her mother’s grave forgotten with the thrill of the moment.
Her path led her by the stream next to her home. Krea rounded the corner. She could see flowers ahead. These were not just any flowers. They were Wyvern flowers. Wyvern flowers were light blue, with wide petals, and a honey scent. Krea halted, taking in the view.
Wyverns were the sort of things the King’s airship had been built to fight. But the wyverns loved these flowers so much they now bore their name. The thought of real, living, red-eyed wyverns terrified but also excited her. Krea had no hopes that she would see one this day: it would be impossible for a wyvern to survive an encounter with the royal airship.
The wind changed and the smell of the marvelous flowers overwhelmed her. She smiled as the rich honey scent filled her lungs. The surrounding forest was silent. Krea’s smile grew and she threw caution to the winds, rushed into the field, bent down, and inhaled deeply.
The stalks were up to her waist and the small buds flowered in every imaginable shade of blue. She glided her hands over their soft petals. She was now far from the stream, and was deep into the meadow surrounded by thick green trees. She sat down. Laughing, she grabbed a bunch of flowers and deftly wove them into a wreath that she placed over her hat. Her body tingled, and her eyelids grew heavy. She would just close her eyes for a minute, she decided.
Or perhaps... five minutes. Just a little while...perhaps a short nap.
Soon, the honey scent wafted her into a deep dreamless sleep.
#
A loud noise woke her. She opened her eyes to find the sky was orange, and the sun was about to set. Her throat tightened and she hopped up, ready to run home.
She froze when a shadow covered her. Above her was a wyvern, its eyes widened in curiosity.
Krea found herself seeing every detail of the creature. It had golden scales with swirls that seemed carved into them. Its neck was long and sinuous, its body thin and wiry. It crouched on two powerful legs. Tall horns of ivory bone twisted on either side of its head. Its lower face, spine, and the barbed end of its tail were blood red. Its large red slit eyes scanned her up and down. Then, in an exhausted huff, the wyvern lowered its head into its wings.
Krea had heard in the village that like dragons, wyverns destroyed towns and ate humans.
Krea eyed the wyvern, wondering when it would pounce. Or perhaps the villagers were as wrong about it as they were about her?
There was blood on the blue flowers surrounding the creature. The wyvern was breathing heavily, and bleeding in huge spurts.
The creature lifted its head again and stared at her. Krea knew that her father would want her to run, to scream, and race back toward home and safety. But Krea saw the blood, saw the gold scales, and looked beyond them, raising her gaze to peer into the creature’s eyes.
There was pain there, mu
ch. And sadness, too. And something more — kindness.
The wyvern howled in agony and lowered its head.
Krea made up her mind: no being should suffer alone, unaided. The pool of blood under the wyvern was growing larger by the minute. She stood up and moved toward the winged beast. “Can I help you?”
There was a huge gash in one of the wyvern’s legs. The wing on the same side was torn — as though a cannonball had crashed through it and had crushed the leg. The smoke from the airship — it must have fired at this wyvern!
“Why would you help me, human? What do you want from me?” The wyvern was female, she had a deep silky voice. The voice sounded familiar to Krea, but she could not place it.
“I don’t understand,” Krea said. “Don’t you want help? You’re in pain! I hate to see you suffer!”
The creature narrowed her eyes and bared her teeth. Was she angry?
She has no right to be angry! Krea thought. Aloud, she said, “I won’t stand here and watch you die!”
The wyvern lowered her head, and at first Krea thought she was laughing. As moments passed she realized that the creature was sobbing. Tears misted Krea’s eyes. She took another step forward: toward the fangs of the dying beast. She peered up at her, “Let me do something, I want to help you!”
“Child, there is nothing you can do,” the wyvern said. “Do you not know why I came to this meadow?”
Krea bit her lip: as soon as the wyvern had spoken, she’d guessed the answer. The wyvern’s eyes held hers.
“We come here to die amongst the scent of honey,” she said. “To die with the blue flowers that bear our name. That is why I’m here.”
In that moment Krea realized why the wyvern’s voice was so familiar: it sounded like her mother’s. Krea’s eyes filled with tears, her lips creased tightly in pain as images of her mother’s pale gaunt body forced its way into her mind. Not again, she thought.
She ran forward and wrapped her arms around the wyvern’s thin, scaled neck. The scales were soft, almost silky.
“I will not let you die alone.”
Twin Soul Series Omnibus 1: Books 1-5 (Twin Soul Series Book Sets) Page 1