The Dragonsong Trilogy Box Set

by H. C. Brown

  Slowly, Thalia sheathed her weapon and opened her hands palms up. She would summon black fire if the men moved one-step closer. A shuffle of feet brought the arrival of another two men behind her. She turned, keeping the four men in view. The strangers, rather than dressed as farmers, wore the trappings of wealth. Each carried a jeweled dagger, a fine sword, and had clothes woven from expensive cloth. Their faces had similar features, with small red or pale blue eyes, a snout rather than a nose, and a lipless slit formed a wide mouth. Their ears sat on top of their heads and their hair stuck up like the bristles of a brush. Dear Lady, these are the Boars Lumos told me about. “Run Brew and hide.”

  She watched her cat scamper to safety then called on her magyck and formed small orange balls of fire on the palms of her hands. The fireballs gathered intensity and spun slowly. A curse rang out in the stillness and the next second, a swishing sound brought a fine silver net over her head, completely covering her. One man drove his body into her and his great weight thrust her into the ground stealing the breath from her lungs. A sharp pain shot through the back of her head and she fought to remain conscious. She managed one precious gulp of air, but the man holding her down struck her again. “Nightdragon, the Boars are attacking me!”

  “Hold her, do not kill her.” A Boar wearing a thick silver chain around his neck grabbed the other man’s collar and dragged him off her. “Rutta, I said get off her! Do you have any idea how much gold we can ask for a witch?”

  Rutta grunted and her nostrils filled with his foul-smelling breath. Shaking with terror, she turned her head away. No wonder Lumos had shielded her from the sight of these beasts on the journey through Trill with a sleeping spell. These disgusting creatures traded in slaves and now they had captured her. Enclosed within the fine silver net, she had no powers, no magyck to conjure to defeat these men. I should have acted at once. I am a fool. She had been too slow to recognize the threat. No dragon spoke in her mind. The message to the Nightdragon had been lost. Goddess, help me.

  “I had no intention of killing her.” Rutta rolled to his feet. “She had conjured a fireball—I only subdued her.”

  “Bunt is correct, you could easily have killed her, and we would have lost a valuable slave.”

  “Fuck you, Yulac.” Rutta dragged Thalia to her feet. “I did not see you or Rom planning to do anything. You were too busy playing with your cocks.”

  “Get her onto your horse.” Bunt tipped his head toward the village. “I will have the blacksmith bind her with silver to prevent her using magyck against us.”

  “Then do we get to fuck her?” Rutta wrapped the net securely around her and without care, threw her over his horse. “She looks young and untouched. I want first blood.”

  “No. Have you no sense at all?” Bunt mounted his horse. “Look at her, she is very young. Perhaps she has not yet seen her first moonflow. A virgin witch will bring a bidding war amongst the dark Magi clans. I will send messengers and hold a special auction at the end of the week.” He grinned. “You will have enough to buy ten virgins.”

  The net pressed hard against Thalia’s cheeks and the sharp mesh cut into her nose. She could not move a muscle, wrapped so tightly within this shroud. Fear shivered down her spine, and her teeth chattered. The horse moved down the track toward the town and blood rushed to her head with every sway of the horse. The acrid taste of bile filled her mouth and ran out her nose. She could not breathe.

  Without warning, the Boar pulled her across his thighs. Gods, she could smell the heavy musky odor of the man. He kneaded her bottom with his large hand and revulsion shuddered through her. She lifted her head and glared at him. “You will die for touching me.”

  “You smell so sweet, so fresh.” Rutta squeezed her buttock. “I will have you, witch, and you will still be a virgin.” He laughed. “There will be no retaliation because it is clear you have no master. My guess is you are alone in this world. If you were mine, I would not let you travel alone—nor would any man who owned you. The law is very clear if you are not marked then you become fair game for any who wants you.”

  Disgusted, she pinned him with her gaze. The Boars considered females as property. She would use this information against this pig. She forced out her best sarcastic laugh. “Aye, I have a master and he will tear you apart. If you touch me, he will kill you slowly, and I will watch and laugh as you die.”

  “Then why is he not with you?”

  “My master left me here to wait for his return. He has business in Longbrook.” Dizzy, she forced air into her lungs. “He will be most angry I am not where he left me.”

  “You do not carry his mark.” Rutta slapped her backside. “If you did have a master’s mark on your leg, little witch, we would not have taken you.” He snorted. “The Boars do not steal other men’s slaves.”

  Mark? Did these men brand their slaves like cattle? May the goddess, help me. The horse stopped and Rutta dismounted, sliding heavily to the ground. The Boar scooped her from the horse’s back, his large hands tight around her waist. The moment her feet touched the ground, her legs buckled, and the blacksmith’s shop moved in and out of focus. Lifted under one of Rutta’s thick arms like a roll of carpet, she relaxed. Struggling, she had learned from experience, only made things worse. As they moved inside, a blast of heat hit her face from the blacksmith’s furnace. Beside her, Bunt barked out orders. He took the heavy silver chain from around his neck and thrust it at the blacksmith with the order to melt it down and make shackles immediately.

  “You surely do not expect me to place hot metal around that child’s wrists?”

  “Aye.” Bunt glared at him. “She is a witch and it matters not if she is burned.”

  The blacksmith raised himself to his full impressive height.

  “I would assume you require her to keep her hands? For as sure as I am a smithy, the metal will burn them clean off her arms!” His dark eyes flamed with anger. “I can make restraints, but they will take time to cool. Take this offer or leave my shop because I refuse to cause this child harm”.

  “You must fit them so she cannot remove them.” Bunt lifted his chin his expression wary.

  “Then I will make them to carry a lock. When they are secured they will not slip from her wrists, you have my word.” The blacksmith met Bunt’s gaze. “Or find another butcher to do your work.”

  “Very well.” Bunt took a leather purse from his pocket and handed the blacksmith a gold coin. “I need a place to keep her contained. Do you have a secure cellar?”

  “Aye, the door is over there.” He pointed to a stout wooden door at the back of the shop. “I will allow you to use my cellar, but not if you plan to rape this child.” The smithy’s lip curled. “I know your kind and I will not have depraved behavior under my roof.” He lifted his hammer. “I will have this finished by noon.”

  “Good, we will wait in the tavern. One more thing—I need a silver rope to secure her hands. She is a witch and will burn down your house if left un-silvered.”

  “Use my belt.” Yulac slid the chain belt from around his waist and handed it to Bunt.

  If they remove the net, I will only require a few seconds to contact the Nightdragon. She turned to Bunt—perhaps she could reason with him.

  “Please, sir, I beg you do not bind me with silver.” She met the Boar’s steady gaze. “I am weak. I have not eaten in three days. I will not use magyck—you have my word. In truth, I only know the fire spell and I would not burn down this cellar, for it would burn me as well.”

  “A fine tale indeed.” Bunt regarded her with interest.

  Not wasting a second, she called to the Nightdragon. “Help me, Nightdragon. The Boars have captured me in Hartly. I am in the blacksmith’s cellar. They are making silver shackles for me.”

  The Nightdragon’s voice echoed in her head. “Lumos is injured, but will recover. We will come before the sun is high.”

  Hot tears of relief spilled down her cheeks. Lumos was injured but alive and soon he would find her. S
he lifted her chin, turning her attention back to Bunt. “You would be wise to treat me well.”

  “I am treating you well.” Bunt tipped his head toward Rutta. “I could have easily given you to Rutta but I believe you will fetch a far bigger price untouched.” He gave a snort. “The dark Magi enjoy the fear in a maiden’s eyes, the rigidness of body, and the screams of pain.” He touched her cheek. “You would have enjoyed the life of a Boar’s slave. We prefer our females complacent and wet for ease of fucking.” He dragged her arms behind her back, securing them tightly with the silver belt.

  Her arms throbbed with pain. Bunt spun her around with brutal force. As her back hit the damp, brick wall, air rushed from her lungs. She glared at Bunt. His lust-filled gaze had fallen to her breasts. In this position, her thin tunic stretched across her chest, defining her nipples. She pulled back her lips to display her clenched teeth then let out a low warning growl. “I give you fair warning, release me now or suffer the consequences for touching me. I am no mere man’s slave but my mate is on his way and he will slaughter you all.”

  “You have spirit.” Bunt reached for the doorknob. “But I am not foolish enough to believe such a story.” He turned and grinned at the others. “She would have us believe she is the mate of a Fae or Shifter.” He turned back to her. “You are too young. The rules of these people are set in steel. A child of your age would never be permitted to leave their realm, let alone travel without an elder.” He rubbed his chin. “Mayhap you are a Nomag with the gift of a little magyck.”

  She concentrated on the love she had for Lumos. Her handsome Fae male had said her eyes held the flames of a Dragonfae mate. “Look into my eyes, Bunt. Do you see the flames? I am the mate of a Dragonfae. I have called to him and he will come and bring down the anger of the Nightdragon upon you—let me go and save your sorry hides.”

  “Good gods, now she threatens us with a myth.” Rutta swaggered toward her. “I hope you fuck as good as you lie, witch.” He grasped her breasts and pinched the nipples.

  She shuddered, turning her face away from the Rutta’s putrid breath. His touch was a painful reminder of Erik’s brutality. She twisted away. “I will make sure you die a long, slow death, pig.”

  “I will not make these shackles if you touch that child.” The blacksmith threw down his hammer.

  “We will not harm her.” Bunt opened the cellar door and pushed her roughly inside. “Move down the steps, witch.” He followed her down into the gloom. “There, the place has a small window so you can watch the spiders catch cockroaches.”

  She spun around to face him. “Damn you.”

  “Ah yes, a fine way to make sure I feed you.” Bunt chuckled. “Well, I will not feed you. Not until you show me respect.” He turned and marched back up the stairs.

  She slumped against the damp wall. Relief flooded through her the moment the door had shut behind Bunt. The silver belt cut deep into her flesh but ignoring the pain, she moved her fingers, seeking a way to remove the binding. Sweat trickled down between her breasts and the metallic scent of blood rose up from her heated body. On the floor, crimson drops fell from each throb of her damaged fingers. She moved to the window and tipped back her head. “Lumos, help me!”

  * * * *

  Weak, so weak. Lumos sat on the damp grass absorbing the sunlight. His aching back rested against a boulder yet he had no memory of how Pyro had moved him to this spot. He overlooked a field of poppies, their petals as crimson as the pool of blood surrounding him. After the battle and with his magyck spent, he had clung to Argos’s neck, unable to morph into the Nightdragon. Now the sunlight and beauty before him had restored some of his powers but not enough to free the dragon. Pyro, his face a mask of concern, kneeled beside him. With gentle hands, Pyro retied the strip of cloak covering the throbbing gash in his thigh. He lifted his head and smiled at him. “Thank you. I would be through the veil now if you had not fought at my side.”

  “You must try to call the dragon. Lean on his strength, Lumos, or you will surely die.” Pyro met his gaze. “With our magyck so depleted, we are both in danger. In these circumstances, the dragon will boost your powers at least enough to heal you. Come now, Lumos—call the Nightdragon.”

  Lumos tipped back his head unable to concentrate fully on Pyro’s words. “Soon—gods, I am too weak to breathe.” He closed his eyes. The urgent roar of the Nightdragon speared into his mind.

  “You would allow our mate to be raped by Boars? Thalia is in danger, held captive, bound by silver. I will not allow this to happen again. Set—me—free.”

  Lumos pushed back at the dragon. His muscles ached and hot searing pain shot through his leg. Grasping the boulder for purchase, he staggered to his feet. “I will save our mate.”

  “No, you are too weak. Use my magyck to force the change.” The Nightdragon roared in anger. “There is no time to waste.”

  His flesh rippled, muscles strained. He turned to gaze at Pyro. Through the emerging dragon’s sight, the Fae before him shimmered with a glowing red halo. “My dragon will soon take control. Thalia is in danger.”

  “I am the Nightdragon. I will be free.”

  The world of pain vanished. Lumos fell into a cocoon of weightlessness, melting into the Nightdragon. He turned his massive head to see Pyro change into the Firedragon. The red beast let out a deafening roar and tore great furrows into the ground beside him. Lumos the Fae would heal inside the dragon. He had no choice but to let the beast take control. In two steps, the Nightdragon took to the air, the wind filling his wings like the sails of a battleship. Beside him, the Firedragon hovered in an updraft, the great beast’s eyes glowing red with anger, his maw open, lips pulled back over lethally sharp fangs.

  The Nightdragon roared and speared forward. After a few minutes, he slowed to make a banked turn toward the west. Lumos could see the small village of Hartly in the distance. “Tell Thalia we are on our way.”

  “I have lost mindspeak with her.” The dragon soared higher. “Silver blocks our communication. There was only a moment before you fell unconscious when she called to me. I fear for her safety. Some hours have passed.”

  The dragon would kill everyone in the village to get to her and Lumos had little choice but to try to convince the dragon to conceal his true self. “You must let me handle this problem. You must not be seen here, dragon.”

  “Your life teeters on the edge of the veil, Lumos. Take what you need from me to recover. Until you are sound, I will be free.”

  Lumos gave a mental shrug. The Dragonfae had shielded the people of Trill from the existence of dragons, but this would change now with Thalia in danger. The Nightdragon’s rage and his desire to kill the men who would dare to touch her matched his own. He would relish witnessing the dragon tear the pigs to pieces. Fear for his little butterfly consumed him. Nothing he could do would stop the dragon’s rage if she had suffered at the hands of the Boars. Oh yes, this day would go down in Trill history. He reached out to the Nightdragon. “If they have bound her in silver, we will track her by scent. Take us to the last place the Boars held her.”

  “The blacksmith’s cellar will be reduced to kindling and I will use his bones as toothpicks if he has harmed my mate.” The Nightdragon spewed fire, singeing the tops of the trees. “The Boars are already dead—I will show no mercy.”

  Far below, Lumos gazed at the huge shadow cast by his dragon. As they flew over the countryside, he recognized for the first time the terror radiating from the herds of cattle scattering in all directions under threat of imminent death. The Nightdragon hunted, killed to survive—this he understood, but had never witnessed. In these times, the dragon blocked out all his senses, lulling him into a deep sleep. How strange to experience this sensation, to be conscious and fully alert within his dragon yet not in control.

  The dragon’s fear, anger, and remorse for leaving Thalia alone, blending so completely with his own. As the dragon speared downward to the village, Lumos drew magyck from his beast. The Nightdragon had absorbed
an abundance of power from the sun and the glory of nature. Inside his cocoon, fully restored with dragon magyck, Lumos tried to regain control. “I am well and ready to face the Boars.”

  “Not yet. I am going to place the fear of the gods into these people. Nevermore will they touch a Dragonfae’s mate.”

  The Nightdragon landed with the force of an earthquake on the outskirts of the village and folded his wings. With each earth-shattering step, he made his way down the main street. His massive head swung from left to right to peer at the trembling windowpanes then witness the glass shattering. He snarled in anger at the heels of the villagers’ hasty exodus.

  “I do believe we have their attention.”

  The Firedragon glided down beside him and surveyed the village with menace.

  “Aye, they will not forget this lesson for many centuries.”

  The ground trembled and the roar of dragons rumbled across the earth. Thalia had watched the great beasts circle the village. Thank the goddess, the Nightdragon would soon find her. The Boars had traveled north for about an hour. Surely, it would only be a matter of minutes before the dragons spotted the Boars on the road. Rutta’s horse screamed and danced sideways. She gripped the beast’s mane and held on until her fingers ached. “Set me free or the dragons will kill you all.”

  “What do you say, Bunt?” Rutta turned his horse and stared into the distance.

  “I have never seen such beasts before but, if this is true, they will pay well for the return of their mate. Or a dark Magus will pay triple for a dragon’s mate.” Bunt kicked his horse toward a thick crop of trees. “Take cover. They cannot see us from the air if we travel under the branches.”

  Thalia narrowed her eyes. “Then you will all die.” She met Bunt’s gaze. “Remove the silver and leave me here or I swear by the goddess the Nightdragon will tear you to pieces.”

  “I very much doubt what you say.” Bunt frowned. “If we are challenged, I will say we are merely escorting you to a safer place. I mean, dear lady, how intelligent can a dragon be?”