Dragon Touch (Soul of a Dragon Book 1)

by Ashley Frost

  “What?”

  “You, prancing about with flowers. That’d be a sight to watch.”

  He scowled. “Never in my thousand-year life.”

  “Not even if it’d make you more lovable?”

  He paused, then said, “I think the sight would scare you because of how disturbing it’d look.”

  She chortled. “I wouldn’t mind being disturbed in that case.” She glanced back at the village. “So, what’s the festivity? I usually only see such flowers during a marriage, or when the Offering is going to take place.”

  “Our goddess has awakened.”

  She raised her brows. “Your goddess? Come to think of it, who do you dragons worship? Because to us, you’re our gods.”

  “Funny, I don’t see you treating me like a god.”

  She nudged him with her elbow teasingly. “Because I have better sense than most lowlanders to think of you dragons as gods. You’re just scaly beasts with awfully disastrous breath.”

  He faked being offended, then took her hands in his. Her hands were freezing, and his felt so warm. She sighed in comfort. Slowly, he brought her hands to his lips and breathed smoke. The heat from his breath thawed her cold hands, making her relax.

  He smirked at her. “It’s not always disastrous.”

  Her body stiffened with anticipation under his touch. They hadn’t proceeded with trying to complete their mating, and each passing week made controlling herself more difficult. “Well, I suppose dragon breath does have a certain degree of utility.” He shouldn’t look at her with such smoldering eyes. It wasn’t good for her heart. She glanced away, not wanting Rayse to see her blush. “You still haven’t told me about your goddess.”

  He lowered her left hand, still grasping onto the other. A chill caught her unprotected fingers.

  “We call her the dragon mother,” he said. “She awakens once every few hundred years. Nobody really knows when, but when she does, she visits every clan and blesses us with strength and health.”

  “How do you know she’s coming?” she asked.

  “She announces it. In our heads. We can sense her awakening. It’s strange and definitely some sort of magic. The dragon mother is immortal. She understands soul magic like no other. We try not to question our goddess too much. She has her own mysterious workings. We’re just here to worship her.”

  “That’s silly.”

  He shot her a curious glance. “What is?”

  “Worshiping a being for the sake of it. At least you dragons render us trade.”

  “You definitely don’t want to offend her. She has the power to destroy our clan with her will alone.”

  She frowned. “That’s not how soul magic works. And nobody can have that much power.”

  Rayse shrugged. “That’s what the legends say. The dragon mother is thousands of millenniums old. Anything is possible when it comes to her.”

  “Is she a dragon, too?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then why doesn’t she take over all the clans? She has the power to.”

  Rayse shook his head. “You don’t understand. The dragon mother isn’t part of the workings of our mortal lives. She doesn’t bother herself with such trivialities. She has the power to conquer the world if she wants to, but she merely wants us to worship and love her.”

  “How do you know what she wants?”

  “Because that’s what she tells us. At least, that’s what the last generation said when she last appeared.”

  “When will she arrive?”

  “A day, a month. Frankly, I don’t know. She is a fickle god.”

  Being the skeptic she was, Constance didn’t really believe in the power of the dragon mother. After all, humans worshiped dragons like Rayse. He was touted to be the strongest dragon of all, and the most divine of all of them. But he seemed entirely human to her, save for his shape-shifting abilities. Dragons had as much flaws as humans did.

  Constance suspected the dragon mother was just as flawed as dragons were, too. The mysteries shrouding her made the dragons believe in her godhood. Once those mysteries were resolved, the dragon mother would seem as mortal as everyone else.

  “Thousands of millenniums…. How is that even possible—?”

  A loud, croaky, and female voice shouted through the clearing. Greta stomped up to them. “Oi!” the old, but still ravishing, lady yelled. “How long are you going to take a break for?”

  “Coming you ol’ hag!” she shouted.

  “What did you call me?” Greta stood about fifty feet away, but the old woman’s voice reached them as clear as day. “Did you call me an old hag?”

  “I didn’t say anything! You’re hard of hearing.”

  Rayse shot her an amused grin. “You’re begging to be punished.”

  “She’s rude all the time. I don’t understand why I can’t have a sharp mouth while she does.”

  “She has seniority?”

  “I don’t follow your dragon ways.”

  He chuckled. “Maybe you should, seeing as you’re likely to live here for the next five hundred years.”

  He looked radiant when he smiled, and he had been doing more so ever since she started spending more time with him. She wanted to believe that it was her presence that made him seem less uptight, although maybe she thought too much of herself.

  He turned away, as if to go somewhere.

  “You’re leaving again?”

  It had been three weeks since Ranwynn’s challenge. She had gotten too close to Rayse in only a mere twenty-one days. She felt like she was ready to bond with him. They had tried to lay with each other a few more times, but the memory would always come back to haunt her. The way he carried himself enraptured her. He commanded her attention. His presence was so overwhelming, but it made her want to give her all to Rayse, and have him all to herself.

  But her own thoughts wouldn’t let her do that.

  It didn’t help he had been disappearing during their meetings quite frequently the past two weeks, only to return the next morning.

  “I’m sorry, love,” he said. “The other clans have been attacking more often. We’re starting to be spread thin, and I’m afraid it might cause some unwanted casualties. My clan needs my leadership in a time like this.”

  She hated when he wasn’t around. She could feel a growing air of condescension and disapproval in the clan, and it had been getting worse. It didn’t help that the constant dragon lust had been tiring her. Some nights, she barely slept a wink because of it.

  “Will you be fighting again?” she said. She trusted Rayse to take care of himself. Still, she didn’t like the thought of him having to face barred fangs and claws.

  He gave her a reassuring smile. “Nobody is going to lay a finger on your dragon.”

  “Promise?” she asked. “If you let yourself get hurt, I’m going to kill you.”

  He kissed her. “I’d love to see you try.”

  “Stay safe, and beat those other dragons to horseshit for me.”

  He gave her one final embrace before jogging away. He’d have to strip his clothes somewhere private to shift into a dragon. The dragons were beasts, but they still kept some ounce of modesty when they could, although sometimes they had to disrobe in public when it became too inconvenient.

  The cold air swirled around her and chilled her to her bones. Without Rayse as her personal fireplace, the open breeze next to the cliff side made her shiver like a leaf. She was thankful for the woolly coat again.

  “Don’t make me come down there to drag you back myself!” Greta yelled. The old woman had probably seen the whole of her good-bye with Rayse, not that she minded much.

  “Coming!” she yelled back. She trekked up the hill Greta stood on top of, her teeth chattering.

  ***

  “Esreamisreagouesreamisreagou,” Constance chanted in one breath. The wispy bright souls of the sparroweed sent themselves into the pot. She didn’t bother to look up and continued studying the page of her book.

&n
bsp; Greta knocked her on the head with a roll of paper.

  “Ouch!” she yelped. “Will you stop doing that? You’ll turn my brain to mush at the rate you’re hitting it. That and your constant barking. You’re going to make me deaf.”

  Greta harrumphed. “Then it’s a good thing I didn’t know you any sooner, because looking at how sloppy you’ve been, your brain would be mush had you arrived here a week earlier.”

  Constance made a face, then went back to her book.

  The old woman pulled her ear.

  “Oi! And what was that for?”

  “What book are you reading, child?” Greta stole the pages from her and flipped to the front cover. It made her lose the page she was at. She rolled her eyes with annoyance at the old dragon.

  “A manual about soul magic?” Greta said. “You’re supposed to be studying herbs.”

  “I’ve already finished that one.”

  “And memorized everything?”

  “Well, no. But I thought I’d learn everything else through practice. I have it with me here to cross-reference should I need it.”

  “Then start on another book. There are so many schools of thought when it comes to herbology.”

  “Fine, fine,” she lied. Her interest had waned from herbology, especially since she had learned about how expansive soul magic was as a subject. She had been trying out different spells. They were small spells, involving insect and herb souls. The more ambitious spells like levitation and conjuring fire required more tangible souls, like rabbit and birds. She hadn’t managed to get her hands on a large enough soul, and didn’t want to waste a life on a wasted spell. She had to be sure of the spell she was using if she was going to kill a cute bunny.

  Greta hit the back of her head with the book.

  “Ow! You know, Greta, this is getting a little old.”

  “Aren’t you checking the time of the boil?” the old dragon lady asked.

  “There’s still five more minutes.”

  “Remember about what I always say? Mastery, not—”

  “—not talent,” she finished for Greta. “Goddammit. That’s why Rayse gets along so well with you. He’s always repeating the same thing.”

  “Good. You remember. Then why aren’t you working on it?”

  “I am, I am.” She waved the old lady away. “Don’t you have other patients to take care of? More of them have been coming lately, with worse battle wounds on top of that.”

  Greta crossed her arms and tapped a foot on the ground rhythmically. “I’m not happy with your attitude, Constance.”

  Constance huffed, then pushed the book about soul magic away. She was getting to the chapter on elemental magic. It was immensely exciting. The book stated a witch with enough power to carry out elemental magic hadn’t been documented in non-witch bloodlines in centuries, but she was curious if she could carry it out.

  “I’ll watch the boil, okay?” she said. “It’s just that I’ve made the sparroweed-crescent leaf concoction at least ten dozen times in the past three weeks. It’s so boring and I know it better than the back of my hand.”

  “Practice makes perfect, you inexperienced human,” Greta said, looking pleased with herself. “Where’s the sore throat medicine I asked for?”

  “There,” she said, making a nonchalant gesture to a glass bottle she had put aside earlier.

  “Excellent.” Greta picked up the bottle and left for her patient.

  Constance sucked in a deep breath. She tried to keep herself awake as she stared into the bubbling pot. She had half a mind to pick up her soul magic manual again, but her head was already too sore. It’d throb too much if Greta were to hit her on the head again.

  “Help!”

  She bristled. Turning around, she saw Marzia scampering toward the shelter of the infirmary. Marzia supported a limping Fraser. Blood streamed down the blue dragon’s forehead and down his forearm.

  Greta rushed to Marzia. Constance hadn’t seen a dragon as injured as Fraser in the three weeks she had been in Dragon Keep. Not even Ranwynn was hurt as much as Fraser was. The dragons mostly sought treatment for a few broken bones and flesh wounds, but even broken bones didn’t bother them as much because they were hardier and healed quicker than humans.

  Fraser looked like he was in huge amounts of pain. His back contorted, seemingly broken. A normal human would be dead with his injuries.

  The blue dragon moaned in pain as he ambled forward.

  “Please help,” Marzia begged. Her friend looked distraught. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Greta took Fraser from Marzia and set him on a bed. Constance hugged Marzia. Marzia brought her hands to her face and started to bawl.

  “Shh…” Constance said. “He’s here with us now. We’ll fix him. I promise.”

  Marzia continued to sob. “He was in Falron’s mountains fighting off the other clans. They seem to have grown in numbers. His warrior team perished in an ambush. He’s the only one who came back.” Her friend shook in dismay. “But I don’t know if he’ll make it, Constance.”

  “I promise he will,” she said, not able to trust even her own words. “We’ll make sure he’s all right. I promise.”

  “Thank you.”

  She could hear Greta shouting in the background. “I need bandages and bracers, now! Somebody pass me the sutures. Constance! Come here and stop dawdling. I’ll need a sleep brew. Winter flowers and crescent leaves. Lots of it. Also, a strength brew and sparroweed medicine. Give me one with the strongest dosage you can possibly make. You know what to do.”

  “Immediately,” she said, having to let go of Marzia. She felt bad for leaving her friend standing alone and worried, but she had to save Fraser.

  With haste, she set up three fires and took out all the ingredients she needed. She didn’t have to spend ages gathering the materials as she used to. Greta had allowed her to organize the work station.

  She had to work on three concoctions at the same time. She’d never met an emergency situation as horrible as this. The tensions taxed her. It made her hands clammy and beads of sweat accumulate on her forehead. Her throat went dry. She couldn’t mess this up. A life depended on it.

  She stole a glance at Fraser. He looked incredibly beat up. Blood poured from a huge gaping lack of flesh on his calf, and one of his arms was bent in an awkward position.

  “It isn’t as bad as it looks,” Greta said, walking up to her to collect for a glass of sparroweed cure.

  “Are you kidding me?” Constance was still busy preparing two other brews, so she didn’t have the time to look up at Greta.

  “He’s not going to die. Any human would, but Fraser will make it, though he’ll be down for at least a month, and he won’t wake up until next week.” Greta spoke to Marzia too, who was within earshot.

  Marzia cried into her hands. “Thank you, thank you.”

  “We’ll take care of your dragon, child. You don’t look too well yourself. I’ll ask the nurse to give you something for your nerves. You might want to go home to rest.”

  “No, I’m staying with him.”

  “Understandable,” Greta said.

  Fraser was going to be fine, but what about Rayse? He was in another battle zone, just as Fraser was. What if he came back in the same state, or worse? What if his entire battalion was killed and she never saw him again?

  The thought nearly killed her.

  “Focus,” she muttered to herself.

  Rayse was the strongest dragon in all of Falron and Yvrdeen. He wouldn’t fall in small battles like these.

  She could only trust him to survive.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  We now must discuss another important matter, which many deem as taboo—soul magic. Soul magic is intrinsic to dragon life. Although witchcraft is frowned upon, we cannot avoid talking about it when discussing dragons. Some smaller clans are known to have strong dragon warlocks and witches. Such clans, however, are anomalies. The Everstone dragons are not as in tune with soul magic as many clans, al
though certain offspring are rumored to hold sudden, outlying bursts of power. Such rumors are, however, unfounded without evidence. Whether or not the Black Menace himself wields the power of magic, and to what extent, is not yet documented.

  “Rabbits?” Greta asked.

  Constance nodded. “Yes, or chickens.”

  Constance couldn’t stand not knowing Rayse’s whereabouts. He usually returned by the next morning, and she shouldn’t worry. But imagining Rayse in Fraser’s state made anxiety boil in her like a too-hot stew. She had a spell she wanted to try. It’d let her figure out his location. She needed an animal carrier of a sizable soul. Insects weren’t enough to execute stronger spells.

  Greta pursed her lips. “I think we’re running out of chickens. You’ll have to ask the mishrams. I know where to get mountain goats and some hares. But we usually have to hunt them ourselves. Dragons don’t like to rear animals. The hunt is what makes eating fun.”

  “Do you know where I can get them?”

  Greta laughed. “You? Hunting hares and goats? On these cliffs? Goddess no, Rayse would kill me. You’ll slip, fall off a cliff, and die.”

  Constance bit her nails, frustration taking over her. “Then I can’t carry out that spell.”

  “I can find some for you.”

  “Can you?” She grinned.

  “Sure, it won’t take long. Marzia, do you mind us leaving you here for awhile? The other nurses and Nanili will be with you to monitor Fraser. They know what to do.”

  Marzia sat next to a crackling fire Greta had set up for her. She lay next to Fraser in the warm air. The blue dragon had mostly stabilized and stopped bleeding. Constance and Greta worked till late at night to look after Fraser, but they didn’t have much to do anymore, other than wait for his body to heal itself.

  Marzia waved her hand forward. “Sure, you two go along. I’m sorry about the trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble at all, child,” Greta said. “It’s my job.”

  “I still can’t thank you enough.”

  Constance grabbed a few boxes lying in the corner of the infirmary. Then she walked out with Greta and shut the door, leaving.

  They strolled down the path toward the direction of her hous, before turning a corner. It was cold that night, and as they moved, the buildings got increasingly sparse. The wind hit her face again, making her shiver. She wished Rayse were here to warm her up. She could ask Greta, who hadn’t bothered to increase her temperature in the slightest, to keep her warm, but it’d be awkward and she’d most likely get ridiculed.