Kindle the Flame (Heart of a Dragon Book 1)

by Tamara Shoemaker

  Kinna scrambled to her feet and flushed, her knee throbbing where she'd scraped it on the gravel. “No, thank you. I don't need help to walk.”

  “Of course not. Don't know what I was thinking.”

  Kinna fixed him with a stern glance and turned her back, promptly banging her forehead on the next ledge.

  She could have sworn she heard a chuckle behind her, but she ignored it. Refusing to face him again, she climbed to the next shelf. The last few were relatively shallow and she had no trouble.

  She wished heartily for a needle and thread. She had her gown in which she'd run away stuffed in Render's saddle bag, and now she'd have to wear it instead, but the idea of wearing a gown while climbing a mountain every day was ridiculous. She sighed as she glanced down. Another orlach of ripped material, and the breeches would be useless.

  Her cheeks heated all over again as she remembered Ayden's slow inspection. The reason for her embarrassment whispered to her, but she slammed a mental door on it.

  He's infuriating, that's all.

  But that wasn't all.

  Kinna wished she'd never met him. He made her feel entirely too much.

  * * *

  The next morning, Kinna woke before the sun painted its masterpiece across the eastern sky. When she glanced over at the others' spots, she was surprised to find Ayden missing. Lincoln still snored lightly beside the fire, his Pixie face reposed in sleep.

  His pendant rested on the ground under his jawline. Kinna's eyes lingered on it. The swirls looked familiar; she was sure she had seen the symbol somewhere before, but she couldn't recall where. She reached slowly to touch it, but Lincoln shifted in his sleep, and his fingers curled beneath his chin, blocking her way to the pendant. She pulled back and sighed.

  Why did he choose to go with me? she wondered for the hundredth time. She had never believed his excuse that he wished to be a rebel and seek his fortune. She couldn't understand why he did leave his Clan—in the company of the failed daughter of a Pixiedimn council member, no less!

  She thought longingly of her father and mother and wished she had at least returned to say goodbye to them. But then they never would have let her go. She would have been trapped, and her family trapped as well, in a wealth of ignominy and disrepute. She couldn't stand to think of either Tristan or Joanna as the target of town gossip. Her mother, especially, would feel it deeply.

  “Chennuh's been awake for a while.”

  Kinna gasped and whirled, her hand on her heart. “Warn me, please, before you sneak up on me like that.”

  “Sorry.” Ayden strode past her and tossed an armload of kindling he'd gathered next to the fire. “So, do you want to see if Lincoln can work his magic on Chennuh this morning?”

  Lincoln's eyes blinked open, and he sat up, scratching his hand through his orange hair. A massive yawn cracked his jaw. “What did you say about me?”

  “We said you were lazy enough that we didn't have any more use for you, so we decided to give you to Chennuh for breakfast.” Ayden kicked ash on the fire and banked it for when they would need it again.

  “Oh, come now.” Lincoln stretched his arms high above his head and then dropped them loosely into his lap. “You know you couldn't do any of this without me.”

  Kinna snorted. “Right.”

  “He does have a point, Kinna,” Ayden glanced at her. “He's great fish bait.”

  “Oy!” Lincoln's face turned red. “I'm not bait!”

  “You're bait. You're always the one who has to get the fish for us. So, the question is, would you prefer to be fish bait or Dragon bait?”

  “Neither, thank you very much.” Lincoln stood and glanced at the cliffs that hid Chennuh, shuddering. “I'll stick to this side of the cliff if it's all the same to you.”

  “Actually, we do need you, Lincoln,” Kinna said. “We want you to sing Chennuh to sleep while Ayden tries to reattach his broken wing.”

  Lincoln stared at her. “Great.” He straightened his tunic. “I wanted to take a bath. But now I've got to be a bloody Dragon orchestra.”

  * * *

  The three of them stood at the top of the ridge, the wind pasting their clothes against their bodies. Kinna shivered; the breezes were growing colder, and winter would be upon them soon. Perhaps they should consider moving into the canyon with the Dragon. She could feel his heat from below.

  Ayden motioned to the many ledges of the canyon. “Lincoln, your stage. Where do you want to stand?”

  Lincoln swallowed. “If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer to keep my lovely Pixie hide uncharred by Dragonfire. I'll sing from right here, thank you.”

  Ayden shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He jumped onto the next ledge, and Kinna swiftly followed him.

  “Where do you think you're going?” he asked, his eyes pinning her.

  “I'm going to help.”

  “No, you're not.”

  “Yes, I am.” Kinna lifted her chin.

  “Kinna, why do you have to make everything so difficult?” His gray eyes flashed silver.

  Kinna glared at him. Why do you always slam the door, try to keep me out? I want to help. She couldn't get her tongue to form the words.

  “Stop trying to help.”

  The echo of her thoughts lashed through the air from Ayden's lips, and Kinna stepped back. “What?”

  “You see me as a project, Kinna, and I'm tired of it. Stop. Trying. To. Make. It. Better.” He stared at her for a moment, and then moved onto the next ledge.

  Hurt coursed through Kinna. He wouldn't open up to her. Every time she tried to dip below his gruff exterior, he slammed the door shut and hung a sign with a huge KEEP OUT emblazoned across it. Granted, she hadn't started out with him well. Blackmail wasn't the best foundation for trust.

  Lincoln began a soft, slow melody. The notes hung like jewels in the sun before sinking slowly downward into the canyon, coating Kinna and Ayden, but especially draping Chennuh with Pixie magic.

  The Dragon paced noisily along the bottom of the canyon, and his roars occasionally shook the air. As Kinna watched, Chennuh swayed back and forth, staggered, and crashed into one of the canyon walls before reeling off to the side again.

  It's working. The song grew in intensity and volume, and Lincoln's Pixie voice didn't sound like a Pixie anymore. It was a seashore, and the surf crashed upon the shore with a thundering roll that at once struck fear in the heart and soothed with a rocking rhythm.

  Kinna sighed with relief as the Dragon finally slept.

  Ayden was nearly at the canyon bottom. Kinna scrambled down the ledges. Even if he didn't want her, she intended to help. Who knew how long Chennuh would stay asleep, and Ayden would need her whether he admitted it or not.

  Ayden had reached Chennuh's forelegs where they lay collapsed against the ground, and he tentatively placed one booted foot on the Dragon's scales. Kinna's feet hit the floor of the canyon.

  Ayden cleared the massive mound that was the beast's belly. Kinna could see his reflection in the millions of scales at his feet.

  Ayden saw her, and anger crossed his face. She held her finger to her lips and hid her smile at the frustration she knew he struggled to keep inside.

  The long, tattered wing sprawled across the ground behind her. The stump where the wing had broken off oozed near where Ayden stood. Lincoln's voice echoed off the canyon walls, and Chennuh's eyes remained shut as Kinna slowly reached down and grasped the heavy wing.

  Slowly, slowly, she lifted, straining under the weight. In another moment, the rib of the wing was tall enough that she could get her shoulder under it. She hefted it closer to the Dragon's back and pushed it toward Ayden, her arms shaking beneath the load.

  Ayden crouched, his gloved hands outstretched. He took the wing and dragged it across the scales toward the Dragon's neck. Kinna watched with her lower lip in her teeth, terrified with every hitch of Chennuh's breath that the great beast would wake and spew out his wrath on Ayden befor
e a mere second of time had passed.

  Ayden glanced at her and deliberately placed her at his back, crouching atop the Dragon. Kinna couldn't see what he was doing.

  She shifted to the side, but Chennuh's neck blocked her view. She hurried around the Dragon's tail, stopping near Chennuh's forelegs, but Ayden was finished with whatever he'd done. He rose to his feet, straightened his gloves and leaped off the Dragon. The wing was intact.

  “You fixed it,” Kinna said.

  He held a finger to his lips, but it was too late. Kinna's voice broke the spell woven by Lincoln's song, and Chennuh woke. An earth-shattering roar erupted from his maw. A sharp intake of breath preceded the burst of Dragonfire. Kinna spun, too late, and braced for the heat.

  Instead, something heavy hit her from behind, and she and Ayden landed beneath a ledge in the canyon wall. Fire roared past them and then disappeared in a whirl of smoke.

  Kinna's face rested in Ayden's sleeve; his gloved hand gripped her arm. In a second, he released her, scooting as far from her as the constricted space allowed.

  Lincoln's voice took over again. Chennuh weaved drunkenly past them, and once again, collapsed.

  Ayden rolled into the open, motioning Kinna out after him. Together they climbed the ledges, arriving finally at the top, out of breath, out of energy. Kinna flopped on the shelf.

  “How did you fix it?” She'd seen that he had no tools, nothing that could possibly mend a broken wing.

  He shrugged. “I reattached it. Now it just needs to heal.”

  Kinna swallowed, the terror of the fireburst finally hitting her. She pushed back the impulse to cry. That was silly. She was fine ... thanks to Ayden. She blew out a breath and glanced over at him. If he hadn't tackled her, dragged her under the shelf, and sheltered her from the flames, she'd be charred Pixie meat. He'd saved her life.

  Her shoulders slumped, and she slid her eyes shut. She'd demanded to help him. She hadn't helped him at all.

  “Kinna.”

  She looked up. He was watching her. “Thanks for your help.”

  She managed a wavering smile. “Any time.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ayden

  Winter blew into the Ridges of Rue with a vengeance, and Ayden woke one morning to cast a worried glance at the gray skies that draped like chain mail over the mountains. The wind bit his exposed skin with an icy bite, and even the fire he kept burning near the copse of trees did little to pierce the cold.

  He shivered, blowing on his hands to warm them. The Griffon Pass continually nagged at his thoughts. Thus far no other Griffons or their Dimn had appeared, but he wondered how safe they were, especially since he'd let the two witnesses of his curse go free. More and more, he felt the pressure to move their company into the canyon's haven.

  A quiet sob pulled his attention to Kinna's form where she lay huddled next to the fire, her back to him. Her hand swiped her eyes, and she turned her face into her arm to muffle more cries.

  Alarmed, Ayden stood, looking quickly around the camp for the source of her disturbance. He froze when his glance fell on the copse of trees where the horses had roamed for the first several weeks of their stay.

  They were gone.

  A curse left his lips, and Kinna sat up, her face white and strained.

  “Where are the horses?”

  Kinna's twisted her hemline.

  “Kinna?”

  The poor creatures had been growing thin. The river-grasses fed them, but they'd had no regular exercise, and he'd been worried about letting them roam free in the marshlands with the mud pits hiding beneath still puddles.

  “They're gone.”

  “What do you mean, they're gone?” An iron ring seized his stomach.

  Kinna stared across the river at the mountain peaks nearby, her white face still beneath her fiery hair. “I set them free. Told them to go home.”

  “You did what?” He crouched in front of her. “What possessed you to do such a thing? How do you expect to get out of the Rues? Crawl?”

  Her green eyes flashed to him, beautiful in their tear-stained state. “No, I expect to leave the Rues on the back of a Dragon. But the horses would never survive the winter here; we have no feed for them. And Chennuh won't be in any shape to leave for a long while yet. It was a choice of watching them die here or setting them free and hoping that they make it back to civilization on their own.”

  Many angry words presented themselves to Ayden, but he discarded them.

  Her hand reached for his arm. He jerked it away, stepping backward. Hurt flashed across her face, and she stood. “Please, Ayden, I thought it would be best. What else were we to do with them?”

  “You could at least have told me your plans.”

  “Would it have changed anything?”

  “Not likely.”

  Another tear slipped down her cheek, tracing its way into the corner of her mouth. “Render wasn't just a horse, Ayden. He was my friend, too. I didn't make this decision lightly.”

  Her shoulders rose in a silent sob. Against his will he placed one gloved hand around her back, cradling the back of her head with the other. He pulled her toward him and rested her head against his chest, careful, oh so careful to keep his neck and chin free of her skin. He couldn't tell her that she had most likely condemned the horses to death anyway; it was unlikely that they would survive the Rues on their own.

  She cried in his arms for a long time.

  Lincoln interrupted them. He arrived, cold and dripping from his bath in the frigid waters of the creek, his cheerful whistle pulling Kinna abruptly out of Ayden's arms, her hands swiping at her tears. She turned to the fire, and Ayden wondered if the color in her cheeks was really from the heat.

  Ayden slid his knife from his belt after breakfast, running his thumb along the edge. “I need to go hunting,” he finally declared.

  Kinna glanced up at him. “But your traps feed us well, and Lincoln can call fish to him anytime we're hungry.”

  Ayden shook his head. “It's for more than that. Chennuh hasn't eaten much since we've arrived, and while his body can go without food for a long time, it will eventually catch up with him. The few fish and rabbits we throw him won't hold him for long.”

  “But we're in the middle of the mountains. Where are we going to come up with anything larger?”

  “Well, horses might have been useful, if we had them,” Ayden said scathingly.

  Kinna flushed.

  Ayden nodded toward the eastern hills. “The Griffon Pass is that way. The Clan lives in the foothills of the Rues and they keep an eye on anyone coming or going along that Pass. The Rues themselves are formidable enough to keep the Trolls and Goblins out of the Griffon Clan’s backyard, so their attention is rarely to the west. Besides,” he flicked a stick into the fire, “it will only be one of their cows or sheep here or there. Nothing more than what the wolves pick off. An entire cow will hold Chennuh for two to three weeks for sure.

  Kinna's hand moved to her hair. She smoothed it over her shoulder, separating it into three thick swaths, and began braiding it. “What if the Griffondimn catch us stealing their livestock?”

  Ayden watched her nimble fingers fly through the vivid red strands and shrugged. “Then our winter will end a little differently than we anticipated.”

  Kinna's attention followed her fingers as they neared the end of her braid. Abruptly, she changed the subject. “What is your story, Ayden? How long were you at the Dragon keep?”

  Ayden held his gloves close to the flames, enjoying the warmth as it seeped through the leather. He stared into the bed of ashes. “Tannic took me in when I was fifteen. Before that, I made a living as a street-fighter in the Clan...”

  “You were a street-fighter?” Kinna's startled voice pulled his glance her way. Her mouth hung open.

  “Does that surprise you?” He returned his gaze to the fire. “I did what was needed to survive. When I was younger, hunting brought in decent
pay. People would pay upwards of ten gold sceptremarks for a good deer hide. I started to fill out around the time I turned twelve, and I found that fighting made even better money. A winner's purse was thirty sceptremarks.”

  “What kind of fighting?” Kinna asked, her voice soft.

  Ayden picked up a stick and stirred the fire, his mind roving over past years. “Hand combat, wrestling, blades of all sizes, archery competitions—you name it, I did it. It took a lot to survive the streets, Kinna, especially at the beginning.”

  “Of what?”

  “Sebastian's rule. As soon as Nicholas Erlane forced Sebastian to flee to West Ashwynd, there was no order in the new country. You think our laws and Sebastian's enforcement of them now are bad; it was a thousand times worse then.”

  Kinna sank onto her knees near Ayden, and he stiffened, shifting away from her. She didn't seem to notice. “I don't remember. Not much anyway. I only remember things ... in my dreams. Horses, darkness, and mist. Hoofbeats behind us, drawing closer...” She shuddered. “Had you no family?”

  Ayden dropped his stick into the fire and stood. “No.” Pain unintentionally wept through the fibers of his voice, and he wrangled his emotions into a stranglehold.

  Kinna rose, too, coming to stand directly in front of him. Her green eyes shimmered with sympathy. “I'm sorry, Ayden. I can't imagine what it must have been like.”

  He met her gaze squarely. “I survived because I had to, Kinna. I have a debt to repay, and I had to stay alive so that I could someday repay it. So that means I've done things that no nice, well-brought-up Pixiedimn girl would ever dream of.”

  Anger flared hot through the moisture in her emerald eyes. Her lips grew rigid. A silent second passed before she spoke. “Well, this well-brought-up Pixiedimn girl embarrassed her entire Clan and fled her loving parents to train a Dragon in the heart of the Rue Ridges. Don't tell me what I would dream of and what I wouldn't. You don't have any idea.”

  She stalked to the copse of trees, bending to swipe branches from the ground. When she returned, her expression was calm. “What are you going to do, Ayden?” she asked as she fed the sticks into the flames one by one.