Defiant Guardians Anthology

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Defiant Guardians Anthology Page 27

by Jacob Peppers


  But as she lunged forward, the man surged back to his feet, moving far faster than their last few exchanges. His speed caught Enala by surprise, and his blade flashed up to catch her in the stomach.

  The breath exploded between Enala’s teeth. Gasping, she staggered back, suddenly unable to breathe. The sword slipped from her numb fingers as she clasped at her stomach. Her legs tripped on a stray root, and she fell backwards with an undignified thump. Mouth open, gasping, she strained for air.

  Smiling, the man strode forward and pointed his practice sword at her head. “Dead,” he said softly.

  2

  Enala wheezed as she finally managed to suck in a mouthful of air. It was like breathing through a reed stalk, and it was another minute before she managed to speak. “No fair,” she croaked.

  Laughing, Enala’s father sheathed his practice sword and offered her a hand. “All’s fair in war, my daughter.”

  Enala muttered a curse before reaching up to take his hand. He hauled her to her feet and patted her lightly on the back. “Not bad, though. You managed to evade me for a full day. Far better than your last birthday.”

  Flashing her best scowl, Enala shook her head. “Why do we do this, again?” she mumbled. Knowing she would never get a straight answer to that question, she wandered over and picked up her practice sword from the mud.

  Behind her, her father offered his usual answer. “You have to be ready for anything, Enala.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she muttered, waving her mud-streaked sword at him in exasperation. “It’s not like a sword is much good here, though, is it? No one even knows where we are. When are we going back?”

  “When you’re ready, and not a day sooner,” her father replied in his sternest voice.

  “You mean when mum says, right?” Enala rolled her eyes and turned away.

  Wiping the blade on her shirt, she returned it to its scabbard. Setting out through the trees, she called back to him without looking around. “Come on, if we move quickly, we might not have to spend two nights camped out here.”

  “Since when do you not like camping?” Her father’s voice chased after her.

  “Probably somewhere around our fourth year out here,” she shot back, glaring over her shoulder. She was fifteen today, but they had moved into the forest when she’d been just ten.

  Silence settled over the forest as her father fell in behind her. Enala did her best to ignore him. With darkness falling rapidly, they might be lucky to make it a mile before they were forced to set up camp. This time she skirted the edge of the grassland, keeping to the trees with their lighter undergrowth, and they made better time. But as they left the clearing behind, the darkness grew, and with it the silence.

  Enala paused amongst the trees, squinting through the gloom, allowing her eyes to adjust. Her ears twitched, listening as the last hums of the evening chorus fell away, and the birds returned to their nests. Slowly the dim buzzing of insects followed. An eerie stillness settled over the trees, as though life had abandoned the forest. But Enala knew better than most, that wasn’t true. Dark creatures hunted the trees day and night – but at least during the day you could see them coming.

  Biting her lip, Enala glanced at her father. He shrugged and overtook her, as though this was no more than a stroll in the park. Not that Enala had ever experienced that pleasure – even when they’d lived in the city of Chole. The decades-long drought had seen to that. Shaking her head, Enala moved after her father, her hand drifting to the hilt of the dagger in her belt. Unlike her sword, it had an edge that would cut flesh.

  They pressed on, moving deeper into the trees. Away from the river, the undergrowth thinned further, as the younger saplings gave way to ancient trees. Their thick branches blocked out the last of the light, forcing them to stop and light torches. As the flames lit the darkness, the crash of breaking wood whispered through the forest.

  Spinning towards the sound, Enala hefted her torch, holding it high to light the shadows. With her other hand, she reached down and drew her dagger. Firelight glistened on the blade as she edged towards the sound, her father a step behind her. They shared a glance as the crash came again – closer this time. Something large was heading in their direction.

  Enala swallowed. They had stuck to the trees, avoiding the flattened clearings where the Reds liked to nest. Had one of the creatures picked up their scent by the river? The Reds often hunted along the Onyx, seeking out humans who dared venture into their territory. She gripped her dagger tighter. If one of the creatures found them out here, alone and poorly armed, all her parents’ training would be for naught.

  Yet another reason to question why they remained in this cursed forest.

  The crash came again, and a flicker of movement appeared in the shadows. Enala readied her knife, holding it aloft in preparation to hurl it at the beast. Their only hope was if they could land a lucky blow in the creature’s eyes, and hope that distracted it long enough for them to escape. The Red’s scaly hides were almost impenetrable to ordinary weapons – and neither herself nor her father had magic to call on.

  A rumble came from the darkness as a giant head appeared through the trees. Firelight flickered on golden scales, lighting up the space beneath the towering canopy. The creature approached slowly, its body sliding carefully between the massive tree trunks. It moved on all fours, the great claws digging up grooves in the soft mud. A forked tongue flickered from the great gulf of its mouth, exposing rows of teeth the size of short swords. Wings lifted from its back, hovering in the air, as behind, its golden tail slithered back into the darkness.

  “Nerissa!” Enala squealed as she recognised the dragon, the tension going from her in a rush. “You gave us a heart attack!”

  The low rumble of the dragon’s laughter echoed through the forest. Such skittish creatures, her voice sounded in Enala’s mind, rich with mirth.

  Beside Enala, her father snorted. “Well met, Nerissa,” he said, sheathing his sword. “Did my darling wife send you?”

  The diamond eyes swung on her father. She was concerned your daughter might have bested you.

  Her father chuckled. “Not this year.”

  Enala’s lips twisted. “He cheated.”

  Moving across to the dragon, Enala stretched out a hand to stroke Nerissa’s jaw. Her scales were warm to the touch, radiating with Nerissa’s inner fire. A shiver went through the dragon as the eyes swung around to look at Enala.

  There is no ‘fair’ in war, child.

  Snorting, Enala shook her head. “That’s what he said,” she replied. She walked around Nerissa’s head, her fingers trailing down the dragon’s neck. “May I?”

  Of course, child.

  “I’m not actually a child now, you know,” Enala shot back as she hoisted herself onto the dragon’s knee and scrambled up her back. Settling herself down between Nerissa’s wings, she continued. “I’m fifteen. I’m a grown woman now!”

  Nerissa rumbled with laughter, the sound reverberating through the golden scales and up Enala’s spine. I am over a hundred years old. You are all children to me, child.

  Enala rolled her eyes and looked down at her father. A smile twitched on her lips as she petted Nerissa’s scaly hide. Pain still radiated from her chest where his blow had struck home. It gave her an idea. Sensing her thoughts, the dragon straightened, lifting Enala high into the air. Below, her father shouted and started forward.

  “Hey! Enala, you stop that! Nerissa, get back here!”

  Laughing, Enala glanced down at him and waved. Beneath her, the dragon began to lumber her way through the forest. With the thick canopy overhead, she couldn’t take flight yet, but she could still move far faster than a man on foot.

  “All’s fair in war right, Dad?” Enala called back.

  Her father’s shouts echoed through the forest as he chased after them. Chuckling to herself, Enala stood on Nerissa’s back and turned around, before settling herself down facing the dragon’s tail. Grinning, she continued to wave
as her father fell farther and farther behind. With Nerissa’s presence in the forest, there was no longer any threat of attack – certainly not from the Red Dragons. The beasts were smaller than their Gold cousins, and, while they loathed humans, they rarely dared challenge the Gold’s directly.

  So until they reached open ground where Nerissa could take flight, her father could walk. It was the least he could do, after Enala had spent two days running away from him.

  When they finally reached a clearing, the moon was high in the sky, and her father’s shouts had long since faded behind them. Still grinning, Enala climbed down from Nerissa’s back and flopped onto the grass. Here it was short and soft, kept down by the dragons who used such fields to come and go. Whether it was Gold or Red territory, Enala wasn’t sure, but with Nerissa at her side, she felt safe.

  Lying down, she sensed the vibrations through the ground as Nerissa curled protectively around her. A sense of safety settled over Enala as she stared up at the stars. A thousand tiny globes of flame lit the night sky, stretching from horizon to horizon, untouched by the lights of man. It wasn’t like this in the city, in the dusty streets of Chole. Even with its population waning by the year, there were still enough torches lit in Chole to obscure the night sky. That, and the occasional puff of smoke from Mount Chole.

  Still, as much as she loved exploring the forests of Dragon Country with Nerissa at her side, the wild beaches and clifftops, more and more Enala found herself longing for the streets of the city, for people and friends who spoke out loud – rather than reading her every thought.

  Not every thought, Nerissa’s voice sounded in her head, sounding hurt.

  “Not every thought,” Enala repeated with a smile. “But I miss…people, Nerissa.”

  Dragon Country is no place for humans, Nerissa said in agreement. But your parents have their reasons, child. You must respect them.

  “What reasons?” Enala sat up and looked at the dragon. “What reason,” she repeated in a quieter voice, “could there possibly be for hiding us away in the middle of nowhere. The Gods be damned, I need more than this.”

  The dragon’s eyes were large in the moonlight. Your parent’s reasons are their own, child. They will tell you when they are ready.

  Enala ground her teeth together. “Yeah, maybe when I’m twenty – if I’m lucky!”

  Standing, she spun as a noise came from the forest. She reached instinctively for her dagger, but it was only her father. Standing still, she crossed her arms and waited for him to approach. It must have taken him another half an hour to reach them, stumbling through the forest with only a meagre torch for light.

  Watching him now, Enala almost felt bad. Fresh mud streaked his shirt where he’d obviously fallen, and there was an unamused frown on his face. Marching up, he stood over her, his brow deepening as the silence stretched out.

  Enala swallowed hard. She almost retreated a step before remembering herself. Arms crossed, she stared up at him, eyebrow raised. “Have a good walk?” she asked, lip twitching.

  For a moment she thought he would yell. A nerve twitched on his cheek, and the muscles on his neck stood taut as he glowered. It looked as though he was considering whether to give her another sword lesson right there on the spot.

  Finally, her father shook his head. The tension left his body in a rush, a grin splitting across his unshaven face. “It was delightful,” he replied. Chuckling, he moved across to Nerissa, his tone becoming reprimanding. “Remind me to tell Enduran about your behaviour.”

  Nerissa’s lips twisted into what could have been a smile. You would like to walk the rest of the way home? Her voice reverberated in their minds. Her wings lifted slightly from her back.

  Enala’s father held up his hands in surrender. “No, no. Not when you put it that way, Nerissa. You win!”

  Chuckling, Enala walked past her father and climbed up behind Nerissa’s wings. She almost burst into laughter when her father quickly scrambled after her.

  “Relax, Dad. I’m hardly going to leave you to walk home alone. Mum would kill me if you weren’t around to do your chores tomorrow.”

  A muffled groan came from her father as he settled himself into place behind her. That was yet another unanswered question. For whatever reason, the dragons only allowed Enala and her mother to ride them alone – never her father. They even disliked when he took the rider’s seat, rather than sitting behind them. It suited Enala just fine. Nerissa was always happy to steal away with her when things became strained with her parents.

  But she never went beyond the Onyx River. That was human territory.

  Ready?

  “Ready!” Enala shouted back.

  The dragon rumbled beneath them. Its broad wings spread out to either side of them, filling the clearing. Wind swirled as they beat down, flattening the grass. Groans came from the forest as the ancient trees strained at their roots. Beneath them, Enala could feel the power gathering in Nerissa’s muscles. Heat radiated from the dragon’s body as she crouched.

  Then, with an ear-splitting roar, the Gold dragon leapt for the sky.

  3

  “So what do you think of your first week of adulthood, Enala?”

  Her mother’s voice carried down the beach as Enala jogged up to join her on the treeline. She had just finished her morning’s exercises – a loop around the cove on which they’d built their house. The black sands stretched out a mile in either direction from where they stood, until finally giving way to stark granite cliffs. Sun glinted off waves breaking farther out in the bay, where unseen reefs waited to wreck unsuspecting ships.

  Panting, Enala staggered to a stop in front of her mother and folded in two, struggling to regain her breath. “Like nothing’s changed,” she managed finally, straightening. Her lips set in a thin line as she looked at her mother. “Like I’m still a prisoner.”

  Her mother snorted and flicked a strand of grey hair from her eyes. “All teenagers think they’re prisoners,” she said, and tossed Enala a practice sword.

  Catching it deftly by the hilt, Enala spun it in her hand and faced her mother. “Yes, but I actually am!”

  With that, she lunged forward. The sand slipped beneath her boots, slowing her attack, but her mother was equally disadvantaged, and the blow almost caught her by surprise.

  Almost.

  Spinning on her heel, her mother brought about her sword. The blade glistened in the morning sun as it flashed at Enala, catching her with a solid blow to the elbow. Pain shot up Enala’s arm, turning it numb, and she cursed as her weapon tumbled to the black sand.

  Her mother straightened, a smile twitching on her lips as humour danced in her blue eyes. She was much better than her husband – and Enala still struggled to match even him.

  “Again, prisoner,” her mother said with a smile.

  Sword practice continued for another hour, until Enala was dripping with sweat and she could fight no more. Nursing her bruises, she returned the practice sword to its sheath and limped her way up the beach. Just beyond the treeline she could barely make out the dim outline of their hut. From out to sea, there was no spotting it, but as they moved into the shade of the trees, it slowly took shape.

  Her parents had spent the better part of five years carefully crafting the cabin, transforming it from a rustic palm leaf hut into a house of solid wood and thatch. The trees they’d cut to craft it had come from deep in the forest, away from prying eyes, and then been dragged to this place. The huge trunks had been chopped and reworked, carefully fitted together to form walls that would keep out the worst of the winter winds. The roof was thickly thatched straw and reed, no longer prone to leaking in the heavy summer rains.

  Walking up to the wooden deck out front, Enala tossed the loop of her sword belt on the hook outside the door. Her father looked up from where he sat at the outdoor table, a book he’d read half-a-hundred times held in one hand.

  “Good training session, I take it?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

  Enala sh
ot him a glare by way of answer, and then marched inside without speaking. The interior was sparsely decorated – just one room shared by the three of them. Her parents’ bed was pushed into the far corner, while hers was located immediately beside the door – something they were always threatening to change, when they caught her sneaking out at night with Nerissa.

  Away to the left, a small stone fireplace had been built into the wooden wall, and a well-constructed chimney led up through the roof. Above, the thick canopy did a good job of dispersing the smoke – so long as they only burnt clean, dry wood. Over the fire was an iron grill where they would cook their meals. Just now, a pot of stew was bubbling over the coals.

  “Enala!” Her mother’s voice carried to her from outside. “Make it quick in there. Your next lesson starts in fifteen!”

  Gritting her teeth, Enala glanced around the room. Setting her sights on the pile of fruit at the kitchen table, she plucked out an apple and then moved to the back wall. Carefully, she levered open the window next to her parents’ bed and manoeuvred herself through. With her parents both on the other side of the cabin, they wouldn’t notice she was gone until it was too late.

  She was done with her lessons for today.

  Slipping into the trees behind the house, she set off through the woods at a jog. It didn’t take long to reach the Gold dragon’s nest. The Golds always slept close to the beaches, where they would lay their eggs during breeding season. That was what Nerissa had told her anyway – it had yet to happen during Enala’s five years in Dragon Country.

  Enala hesitated when she reached the edge of the nest, her eyes darting around the clearing in search for Nerissa. A dozen dragons lay sleeping on the crushed grass, enjoying the heat of the morning sun. A few lay together, their tails entwined and wings embracing, but, for the most part, dragons were solitary creatures, preferring to keep a substantial amount of what Nerissa called ‘personal space’ around them as they slept. They might nest as a tribe, but that did not mean bunching together like common earthworms.

 

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