Verdant Magic: A Standalone Dragon Shifter Adventure (Dragon Mage Chronicles Book 1)

by Aimee Easterling

  “Hey, I’m not hurting you,” Zane tried. But the soothing words did no good. Instead, the rose thrust a bud into his open mouth and bloomed, perfumed petals stifling all flow of air and choking off his windpipe.

  Zane attempted to jerk the flower free, but his undamaged hand was once more bound tightly against his chest. Coughing failed to dislodge the bloom, and his vanquished fire was now stubbornly absent and unwilling to rise.

  For the first time in his life, Zane was entirely at the Green’s mercy. For the first time, he wasn’t entirely sure he’d make it out of his predicament alive.

  Chapter 4

  What am I missing?

  Amber’s eyes were gummy and her throat parched, the quavering cry of a distressed mini-Nubian ringing in her ears as she gradually reentered the conscious world. Something was seriously wrong and she couldn’t quite remember what.

  Drifting halfway in and halfway out of slumber, fingers rose of their own volition to clench around Momma’s memory locket. The metal was warm from the afternoon sun, the engraved pattern so familiar that it almost lulled her back to sleep. In fact, she might have relaxed into the familiarity of sun and soil had the sweet aroma of floral perfume not licked against her nostrils and reminded her that she wasn’t safely ensconced in her own bed.

  Sitting up abruptly, the earth witch took in her surroundings with wild eyes. A honeysuckle vine had grown down to check on her as she slept, new flowers opening wide then turning a faded yellow within seconds as the plant expedited its perfume-producing abilities in an effort to catch her attention. But, otherwise, the garden looked much the same as when she’d seen it last.

  “Thank you,” Amber said quietly, acknowledging the gentle plant’s hard work with a quick stroke along its woody spine. A trace of magic lingered beneath her fingertips, a more tangible recognition of the vine’s assistance, and she didn’t regret the loss of energy one bit. After all, her long nap nestled into the rich garden soil had filled her with plenty of energy to spare. And who deserved to share in that magic more than her thoughtful honeysuckle visitor?

  Still, Amber didn’t allow herself to linger. Because if both Thea and the honeysuckle vine were upset, then something was seriously amiss.

  And Thea was upset. Save for mealtimes, her little goat didn’t complain lightly. But now her caprine companion raced back and forth along the edge of the garden, bleating wildly as she attempted to levitate into thin air.

  Meanwhile, up above both of their heads, a tangle of vines and branches proved that not all of her compelled greenery had returned to its usual sun-seeking activity when she’d fallen into her exhausted slumber. No, the Green’s denizens had wrapped themselves so tightly around their captive that neither a hint of skin nor lock of hair now showed. If the dragon shifter hadn’t already been strangled or choked, she suspected the Green would find a way to complete its endeavor posthaste.

  An hour earlier, all dragons had been her enemy. But when faced with a living, breathing man who just happened to possess the ability to don wings at will, Amber didn’t even think. Instead, she beat her fists vainly against the trunk of a nearby walnut as she begged the stubborn being to release its vicious hold.

  No luck there...not that she’d expected any. This particular walnut had been one of Momma’s less savory experiments. Not only did it secrete poisons into the soil that killed vegetables Amber loved to eat, it also had an ornery streak a mile long. Now, that same unruly walnut was wrapping long limbs around a dragon shifter whose life hung in the balance.

  “Bring him back down to me now,” Amber demanded, this time catching her breath and forcing her toes down into the receptive soil. Or into what passed for soil beneath the walnut’s canopy where roots lay so close to the surface that they formed a wooden barrier between air and earth.

  Her big toe scraped painfully against rough bark in the process, but Amber ignored the pang and continued feeling around for exposed dirt. And, eventually, reluctantly, the Green let her in and deigned to bite down upon her waiting skin.

  The connection hurt more than usual, as if the forest was angry at her intrusion into its sphere. Or perhaps the Watcher was merely sensing spillover from the Green’s earlier rage at being invaded. What being of fire would dare fly into the heart of the vibrant earth’s self-proclaimed stronghold?

  Either way, the images that streamed through the network and flickered behind her eyes were grim ones. The Green wanted to carry its prey from tree to tree, down into the valley and across the bridge to Peterson’s pasture. There, the earth would shift and open wide its gaping maw, swallowing the invader whole.

  “Yes, I know how you feel,” Amber agreed. “A dragon killed my parents, but that was ten years ago. For all we know, this dragon came to make amends.”

  She didn’t really believe her own lie. Still, Amber couldn’t bring herself to consign the shifter to death without trial. If nothing else, she should talk to him first, find out how many dragons were out there hunting for her refuge and what they knew about the earth witches who hid so carefully from prying eyes.

  It would be reckless to allow the opportunity to pass. And Amber was seldom reckless, never when so many lives rested in the balance.

  So she shivered away her reservations and held firm. “Lower him down to me now. I’ll bind him so he can’t burn you again. But I won’t allow anyone to kill this dragon until I’ve gotten what I need.”

  In response, the Green wavered. The being wasn’t so much a single entity as a melding of minds both simple and complex, so it was small wonder the shared consciousness required several moments to come to a consensus.

  The debate was silent and subtle. Walnut and grape argued for death with striking images of fire against the darkness. In contrast, the placid honeysuckle threw its vote behind Amber, its pure trust in her good intentions coloring its wordless dialogue.

  Here and there, a fox spoke up or a songbird warbled. But the Green wasn’t much swayed by the animals’ wishes. After all, birds and mammals possessed wings or feet that could carry them away should their choices prove ill-conceived. For all of its ability to grow at supernatural rates, the Green had no choice but to bloom where it was planted.

  Slowly but surely, Amber could feel the tide turning against her as she listened in on the decision-making process. The Green acknowledged that she’d worked all of her life to feed and protect the soil. It accepted that she held its best interests close to her heart. But Amber was only five and twenty. How could she possibly begin to match the wisdom of the ancient beeches that even now digested their own heartwood deep in the shadow-shrouded center of the Green?

  Biting her lip, Amber glanced skyward. She wasn’t actually certain whether she was making the right decision herself. In fact, she suspected that most of the earth witches hiding deep within the caves that formed their refuge would be glad to see this—and every other—dragon shifter done away with by the Green. They might be pacifists by nature, but their hands wouldn’t be the ones dirtied if the forest struck.

  But as the larger network’s attention remained riveted on consensus-building, the greenery above Amber’s head relaxed slightly and the shifter’s face was revealed at last. He wasn’t comatose as she’d originally supposed, although his mouth bulged around a gag of leaves and buds. Still, he didn’t fight against his bonds or rage into the Green. Instead, his eyes unerringly met Amber’s own and his eyebrows rose.

  Will you save me? His expression asked. Please?

  Perhaps it was the fact that he’d asked rather than demanded. Or the way Thea pressed against Amber’s side, more afraid of the shifter’s death than she had been of his fire-breathing draconic potential. No matter the reason, the earth witch finally put her foot down.

  “If you want me to continue acting as your Watcher, then you need to accept my wishes,” she said aloud, sending her resolution down through the fungi plugging into her toes and out into the network of beings who were currently passing judgment upon her prisoner. “Kil
ling this shifter is the wrong decision. I’m going to get some rope, and when I return, I want him on his feet, alive, and waiting for me.”

  Then, demands made, she turned on her heel and strode quickly back toward the cabin that she’d once shared with her parents but where she now lived entirely alone. Soon, though, she broke into a run.

  After all, it wouldn’t do to let the forest realize how little faith Amber had in the strength of her ultimatum. It was best not to look too vulnerable in front of the Green.

  ***

  “Thank the Green you’re alive!”

  Charlie grabbed Amber’s shoulders, pulling her up against his strong farmer’s body and pressing her head into his broad chest. She could hear the young man’s heart pounding, proof that he’d come running toward danger rather than away when his little sister fled to warn the village. He wasn’t strong enough to tap into the Green and discover her location, though, so he’d had no recourse but to wait there for her return.

  Jasmine’s older brother was her closest friend—well, except for Thea. Still, Amber found herself pulling away from his embrace and slipping past to head into the darkened cabin alone.

  I don’t have time for this, she thought grimly, not bothering to wait for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior before grabbing a ripe tomato off the shelf using muscle memory alone. Her stomach ached with hunger and she bit into the fruit without bothering to slice it, letting juices roll down her chin as the tangy flesh eased the ache of her parched throat and sore stomach.

  Her split second of stolen solitude ended as quickly as it had begun, though, when a scuffle at the door was followed by Thea’s annoyed bleat and Charlie’s equally exasperated huff. The two had never gotten along, and Amber knew without looking that her human friend was attempting to body block her caprine companion to prevent the latter from entering the room at her mistress’s heels.

  Thea was a force of nature, though, and soon soft goat lips nuzzled against the palm of Amber’s trailing hand. “Just a sec,” the earth witch whispered, biting the core out of her tomato then holding the fibrous center out for her greedy companion to consume.

  “I’m glad you’re safe,” Charlie said after a moment, only a hint of residual annoyance coloring his tone. The two had run through the goat-indoors-versus-goat-outdoors conversation so many times now that their arguments sat heavy in the air, words unsaid but present nonetheless.

  For his part, Charlie thought the practice of allowing Thea inside a house was unsanitary and positively medieval. Amber generally rebutted that since the Change twenty-nine years earlier, electricity, roads, and other modern conveniences were all a thing of the past...at least above ground. So why shouldn’t she enjoy the companionship of a well-behaved goat?

  “I take it you succeeded,” her friend said at last, after each of them had mulled over well-worn debates and realized they had no new arguments to present.

  And for no reason Amber could explain, she heard herself lying by omission as she replied. “You don’t have to worry about that dragon.”

  As soon as she spoke, though, she wished she could take the words back. Sure, she and Charlie had their differences. But why remove the kernel of truth that lay at the heart of their strained yet deeply rooted relationship?

  Still, the lie had been voiced. And as Amber gnawed on an unpeeled cucumber, she found herself grasping for any excuse to push her friend out of the house as quickly as possible so she could return to the golden-curled shifter dangling above her garden plot. What would he think, Amber found herself pondering, about a farm animal in the house?

  Once again, the chime of an enchanted weather vane pulled her out of her thoughts. Not the excuse I was looking for. But perhaps this sister device was just reacting to lowered barometric pressure and the promise of much-needed rain? Not to impending disaster like the one uphill had warned about earlier in the day.

  Rushing to the window, Amber pulled back the Venetian blinds and squinted out into the brilliant sunlight. Behind her back, Charlie’s chest pressed up against her shoulder as he read the notation aloud.

  “Mostly sunny with dragons by dinner,” he recited, his face going pale. “I thought you said....”

  “I did say,” Amber countered, nearly choking on the last bite of succulent cucumber. Her mind raced through the possibilities even as she made a beeline for the creek willow guarding the eastern corner of the house. Had the Green been so angered by her high-handed behavior that it chose to relinquish its prey entirely? Or had the black dragon returned to finish the battle it so precipitously left behind?

  “Up, up, up, up,” she chanted impatiently as she stepped onto the stair the willow obediently formed out of one supple limb. The tree raised her far more gently than she would have wished, the pacific plant not understanding that speed was currently of the essence.

  Amber barely spared a glance for her abandoned companions before leaping then scrambling onto the branching crown. Charlie gasped as she bridged a particularly treacherous gap, but she didn’t bother to reassure him.

  After all, she could have nailed the ascent in her sleep. This was where she carried out her duty. This was where she Watched.

  Chapter 5

  Ten years earlier, Poppa had been the Watcher. And as Amber entered the canopy perch that had served as his workshop, she saw the older man vividly in her mind’s eye.

  As on so many other days, Poppa was burnishing the telescope in this particular memory. He’d teased her with the polishing cloth first, snapping it like a whip and catching his daughter on the cheek with the barest love tap of well-worn fabric. Then, sobering, he’d leaned against one aerial bough as he explained how to catch the faintest flicker of movement before bringing the magnifying lens to bear along the same trajectory.

  “Look first with your eyes,” Amber muttered aloud now, mimicking her father’s frequent admonition.

  As she obeyed her dead parent’s wishes, a tiny speck appeared, nearly invisible in the distance. The flier could have been a vulture or hawk had it been circling the river or Cemetery Hill. But Amber knew from long experience that her naked eye wouldn’t be able to pick out raptors sliding down the flank of the ridge line that formed the eastern horizon.

  No, this creature was abnormally large. It could only be a dragon.

  The question was—a dragon escaping from her garden clearing and fleeing into the distance? Or a different dragon coming to aid—or kill—his shackled kin?

  Taking a deep breath, she settled one hand around the base of the scope. The device was an expensive piece of machinery, magicked by an air witch and bought during one of Momma’s infrequent forays into the outside world. So it didn’t just magnify; it thinned the air between eyeball and target and brought objects into unbelievable focus. Looking through the scope was like being transported three miles away to the spot where the globe’s curvature dropped objects inevitably out of view onto the backside of the earth.

  “Better than the best zoom lens from the Before,” Poppa had said proudly. “But an air elemental might feel your glance, so be careful and look quick.”

  Dragons, of course, were made of both air and fire. Without the former, their tremendous bodies couldn’t have soared on currents that barely held a turkey aloft. So Amber knew she was risking catching the predator’s attention by merely taking a look.

  Still, she had to know.

  “False alarm?” Charlie called up from the base of the tree. His voice was calm, but Amber caught a hint of tension underlying the simple words. Either he wasn’t thrilled at having been left behind for so long or he was still concerned about her safety balanced in the canopy top.

  Sweet, but unnecessary. Amber held the role of Watcher for a reason—her close bond to the earth was enough to get her out of nearly every scrape imaginable. Fighting a dragon was pushing it, but a mere aerial perch on top of a willow was nothing out of the ordinary for a witch of her caliber.

  So, wordlessly, the Watcher pressed her face up against the
leather cup that encircled the eyepiece. She’d lined the device up as well as possible without glancing through the glass, and now she focused by feel, glad of the hours she and Poppa had spent testing her skills against birds and hillsides.

  Only when she was certain the dragon was directly in her sights did she open one eye...and gasp as recognition filled her abruptly tremulous heart.

  Yes, this was a dragon. No, this wasn’t her dragon. Instead, it was the same pitch-black beast who had battled her golden captive an hour earlier.

  And now that she viewed the dragon from the side rather than peering up from beneath its gargantuan belly, Amber saw something else that made her cheeks flush and her skin crawl. A silver crescent began on the animal’s left shoulder and curved down to end midway along its belly. The striking shape of a moon seemed to glow against the canvas of her enemy’s dark hide.

  For all Amber knew, black dragons might be a dime a dozen. But black dragons marked with silver crescents?

  No, this dragon wasn’t a newcomer to her patch of earth. Instead, this was the same beast who had shown up ten years earlier. The same beast that Poppa sighted on that long-ago autumn morning when sourwood leaves were turning brilliantly red and katydid calls were echoing from the nearby mountainsides.

  “A silver moon against a darkened sky,” he’d whispered as he peered through this exact same scope. Poppa was always being startled into awe by the beauty of the earth, so it took a moment for Amber to realize there was no moon rising behind storm clouds in the distance. There was nothing to be seen but a black dot that grew steadily larger as both Watchers stood and stared.

  Shaking off the wonder brought on by the sight, Poppa had returned to his duty and ordered his daughter out of the tree. “Run fast and don’t look back,” he barked with unaccustomed authority.

  Amber had been old enough to want to stand and fight. But one look at Poppa’s taut face prompted her to obey.