“More?”
She looked at him in confusion and he searched his mind again.
“Eat?”
“Are you asking if I’m hungry? If so, then yes, I am. And thirsty too. Is there a river nearby where I can get some water?”
He frowned trying to follow the stream of words, but the last made sense. “Water?”
“Yes. I need to drink.”
He soared from the cave without responding and headed for the stream that flowed between the hills, but as he reached it he paused, hovering in the air. He could not carry a stream back to the cave. He turned in the air as he pondered the problem. A woodpecker near the bank was tapping a hole into a tree, its noisy sounds ringing through the air. He growled in frustration – the noise made it harder to think. The pecking stopped as an idea occurred to him – if he could make a hole in a piece of wood, perhaps he could fill it with water. He glanced around until his eye fell on a tree lying on the ground, felled by lightning. Lifting it with his claws he tapped the inner wood experimentally, then dug in his talons. It came away easily, and he continued digging until there was a hole a foot deep. Lifting himself into the air, he swooped down to the stream and scooped water into the hollowed-out trunk, grinning when it filled the hole. Turning back to the cave, he carried his prize and set it down carefully, anxious not to spill any of the precious liquid. He leaned it against the wall, pleased when it stayed in place.
“Water,” he said proudly. The female smiled at him.
“Thank you,” she said. He flicked his forked tongue and tasted her pleasure.
He headed back out, eager to satisfy her again, and searched for a small animal to assuage her hunger. He plucked a partridge off the ground and stared at it. Would such a morsel be enough? He decided it would, and clutching it in his claw, he headed back to the cave. He started to hand the female the dead bird, then remembered how she wanted it seared before. He ripped it open with his claws, and tore off some flesh. He breathed his flames over it and handed her the blackened meat. Amusement filled the air and he cocked his head. Was it not right? She picked off the blackened pieces, then taking a stick that had fallen from his fire, speared the flesh and held it over the embers of his bed. She turned it slowly, then finally pulled it off with her fingers and popped it in her mouth as he watched her. She did the same with the remaining pieces, then headed back to where her things lay on the floor. She picked up a wide, flat item and began to scratch over it with a small stick. He wandered back to his bed, and lying down, he closed his eyes and dozed.
He awoke to the scent of another dragon filling his cave, mingling with the female’s scent, and in an instant he was on his feet, his roar shattering the silence. The dragon did not move, but his gaze was cautious.
“Master,” he said, “I have come to discuss clan business.”
Drægón looked at the dragon. He recognized his scent, and the bond that wound through him. He thought for a moment, until a name finally came to mind: Aaron.
“Speak,” he ordered.
“The entire clan will be gathering in three days to see their new Master and give you their fealty. They will see how powerful you are.”
Power. Drægón knew that word. He was more powerful than any other dragon. They would come and kneel before him.
“Do you understand?” Aaron asked.
“Understand,” Drægón said.
“Evelyn cannot stay here. I will take her home to Drake House.”
Drægón frowned. He did not know the word Evelyn. The dragon glanced at the female, and he understood. He was talking about her. He thought through the rest of the words. “No,” he growled.
“You want her to stay here alone? How will she survive? She will be taken care of at Drake House, and when you return, so can she.” The dragon glanced at the female again. “If she chooses to.”
Drægón gave his head a slight shake. Too many words. He couldn’t make sense of them.
“Stay,” he growled.
“Not alone.” The dragon met his gaze and Drægón understood. She was too feeble to survive alone.
“Back,” he said.
“Yes, she can come back.”
The female turned to the dragon. “Where will the clan meeting be held?”
“There’s a valley a few days away by foot that is remote enough and big enough for dragons to congregate.”
“And you’ll take me to Drake House when it’s time to go?”
“Yes. One of us will come back for you.”
“How long will your gathering be?”
“A few days. Or maybe a week. It depends if any want to challenge Drægón’s leadership.”
“And do you think …” She paused. “Do you think he’ll be any better?”
Drægón wandered back to his fire. He was not interested in the idle chatter between the human and the dragon. He stirred up the flame with his tail and slumped into the flames as the pair continued their conversation.
“… hold out too much hope.”
Disappointment filled the air. “I understand,” the human said softly.
“I’ll be back in two days,” the dragon said. “Are you sure you want to stay?”
“I’m sure,” she said.
Aaron turned and flew out of the cave, leaving Drægón alone with the female once more. He could feel her eyes on him, but he ignored her, and she finally went back to her place at the wall.
He dozed again, waking to her scent. It no longer troubled him that the human had invaded his space. When the light fell, she used her strange box and told him another story. Again the words held little meaning for him, but he liked the sound of her voice.
Chapter 36
Another day passed. When Drægón was in the cave, the human continued to tell him stories from her strange box, or she sat and used her pencils and paints to create beautiful artwork. He said little, but she spoke to him about the time before, when he was someone different. On the second day, Aaron returned to take her away. Drægón was reluctant for her to leave, until she reminded him that she would return once his clan business was done.
Aaron returned some time later, and together they glided over the hills to a valley in the distance. The rest of the dragons, Aaron told him, would arrive that evening and through the night.
“There are some who may not present themselves,” Aaron said as they landed.
Drægón growled. Dragons who did not present themselves would be hunted down and killed. He would not tolerate defiance.
The sun was low in the sky when the first dragons arrived. He recognized them by their scents – they had offered him fealty in the cave.
“Drægón,” the small gold dragon said, with a smile that was both happy and sad at once. He remembered that Aaron said she was his mother, but when he searched his mind for her name, he could not find it. He watched as she drew closer, examining her for a reminder of the past life Aaron maintained he’d had, but nothing about her was familiar. As she bowed to him he nodded, sensing her disappointment, then turned to look at the others. They too, remained no more than strangers, although once again Drægón had the sense that weaving through the black dragon was something that set him apart from all others.
More dragons arrived as night began to fall, their huge beating wings filling the air with sounds like thunder, and their fiery breath sending flames through the air. By the next morning the plain was filled with dragons, while more stood sentinel on the surrounding hills. There were no humans, and all there were in their natural forms. Aaron and Zach discussed the new arrivals in low voices.
“Rolf has come,” Zach said at one point.
“Good. He must have come to his senses. Have you seen Favian?”
“Not yet. But Owain is here.”
“Yes. He presented himself to me last night.”
When the sun was halfway to its zenith, Aaron and Drægón rose to one of the taller peaks, and slowly the sounds died away as the dragons of Clan Drake turned to look at their new mas
ter. He surveyed them impassively, aware that none was as powerful as he.
“Clan Drake,” Aaron said, his voice carrying across the valley and echoing between the hills. “For more than a hundred years I have led you as master of the clan. Together, we have faced threats from other dragons as well as humans, and we have been victorious over our enemies.”
A loud wave of noise rose through the air, growing into a thunderous drumming as the dragons smacked their tails against the ground. Aaron held up a claw and the sound died away.
“In our most recent battle, humans brought a weapon against us the likes of which we have never seen before. We lost some of our number, including my grandson, Xavier.
“For generations, we have heard tales of a savior that would free us from our curse. Many, including myself, dismissed the stories as the wishful thinking of our ancestors, as the centuries passed and none came to deliver us. But from the fire intended to destroy us, one has arisen who is more powerful than any other dragon who has walked this earth. His blood will break the curse that binds us, and set us free from the appetites that make us the monsters we are.” He turned to look at the dragon by his side. “Here is your new master, Drægón, and he brings you redemption.”
There was silence as all eyes turned to look at Drægón. And then a voice called out from an opposite hill.
“You try to trick us, Aaron? That’s your grandson, Xavier. And he’s little more than a pup.”
Aaron searched the hills for the speaker. “Ah, Ragnor, you doubt me? Xavier is no longer.” He paused and glanced down at Lydia, standing at the base of the hill. She dropped her gaze to the ground as he continued. “Come, you will be the first to drink his blood and know that what I say is true.”
Ragnor glanced at the dragons gathered around him, then lifted himself into the air and flew calmly towards Aaron and Drægón. His scent announced his arrogance, and Drægón watched him with narrowed eyes. He looked forward to bringing this one to his knees.
Ragnor dropped to the ground before them, but before he had a chance to say anything, Drægón sprang forward and knocked him to the ground with his claws. Jumping onto Ragnor’s back, he sank his teeth into his shoulder. He felt Ragnor’s power as his blood slipped down his throat; it was about the same level as the black dragon, and weaker than all the gold dragons he had tasted.
Talons swiped across Drægón’s chest as Ragnor rolled over in an effort to free himself. Drægón launched himself into the air, dropping back to the ground as Ragnor rose back to his feet. With a snarl Ragnor lurched forward and sunk his teeth into Drægón’s neck.
Ragnor suddenly jerked back, his teeth tearing Drægón’s skin, and a loud roar rose into the air as Ragnor tumbled to the ground, his roar becoming a howl as he rolled in the dirt, tearing open his own skin with his claws as he thrashed on the ground. Finally he lay still. Tension, thick as a blanket, rose over the valley as Ragnor crawled forward and placed his head at Drægón’s feet.
“Master,” he muttered, “I am here to serve.”
“Up,” Drægón said. Slowly, Ragnor pulled himself onto all fours.
“You believe now, Ragnor?” Aaron asked.
“Yes,” he said. “I believe.”
“How do you feel?”
“Changed. But I don’t know how.”
Aaron looked across the gathering of dragons, all watching in silence. “Drægón’s blood is unlike any you’ve ever tasted. You will feel the power as it goes through you, burning away all traces of the curse. The pain is real, but so, too, is the release.” He turned to look at Drægón. “Tell me your pleasure, Master. Do you wish these dragons to taste your blood and offer you their fealty?”
Drægón looked out over the assembled crowd, watching as they shifted nervously. These were his dragons, he thought, here to obey his will.
“Yes,” he said. “Come.”
Throughout the day, dragons offered Drægón their blood, and in turn took his. Their blood fed his power, making him stronger with each mouthful.
The sun had just passed the noontime mark the following day when a young female dragon stepped up before him. He waited for her to offer her neck, but instead she came closer, her scales rubbing against his. Lifting her head, she brushed her neck against his. He could smell her excitement and desire, and his body responded, lengthening and hardening. Without another thought, he shoved her to the ground and mounted her as she gave a squeal of delight, spreading herself wide as she closed her eyes against the startled onlookers. Lifting his head, Drægón gave a roar. Throughout the day his thoughts had become less clear until he had given up any attempts at speech. His mind was a beast’s, and he let himself go, reveling in the freedom.
The beast dropped his head to bite the female below him as he shoved his way into her, but suddenly, unsought, an image rose in his mind. He shook his head with an angry growl in an effort to dislodge the vision, but it was a useless gesture. Why a human girl would suddenly invade his mind, he no longer had the clarity of thought to consider – but it annoyed him, robbing him of his momentary pleasure. With a growl he pushed himself away from the dragon beneath him and lifted himself into the air, dissatisfied and hungry.
Without a backward glance he plunged towards a distant forest, eager to feel the hot blood of an animal filling his mouth. He spotted a small herd of deer and within moments was gorging himself on the tender flesh, his tail flicking across the ground as he ate. He licked his talons clean of blood, and with a satisfied smile, lay down on his stomach. He had not lain there long when he felt a tugging on one of the many bonds he shared with the dragons, and he rose to his feet with a snort. Aaron was the only dragon who would ever dare summon him. He thought about ignoring it, but rose into the air and headed back towards the gathering, landing in the same spot as before.
A dragon approached. Malice and disdain leaked from his pores, but Drægón didn’t care – the dragon would know soon enough the power of his blood. He thought nothing of the creature before him as he took his blood, then offered his own. Instead, his mind wandered to the human girl who had invaded his thoughts and he wondered who she was.
Three more days had passed by the time the final dragon stepped forward to give his oath. Apart from him, the only dragons that still remained in the valley were those close to Aaron.
“Favian,” Aaron said as the red dragon stopped before Drægón, “waited for the end, I see.”
“I was deciding whether I should give my oath.”
Aaron’s eyes narrowed. “You would go against me, cousin?” he asked softly.
“No,” Favian sighed. “That is why I am here. But I have been watching those who have come before your grandson, and noticed a few who didn’t.” He listed a few names, and Aaron nodded.
“I noticed the absence of some,” Aaron said, “but Magnus? I did not expect that of him.”
“He was unhappy with the way you dealt with Lleland.”
The sparks that escaped from Aaron’s mouth were the only indication of his annoyance. “How does he know about that?”
“Word gets around, Aaron.”
“I see. We will deal with Magnus, and the others. But what of you, Favian?”
“You are well aware of my feelings for Lleland, but it is clear that Drægón is not like other dragons. I have remained loyal to you, Aaron, and will extend that loyalty to him.”
Drægón watched the two men as they talked. He could not follow the conversation, but the tension was clear from both their expressions and scents. He lifted himself higher, about to take out the dragon that threatened one of his clan, when the red dragon turned and tipped his neck. With a growl, Drægón launched forward and ripped into his skin, drinking more than necessary before wrenching himself away and offering his own neck. As it had with all others, the power of his blood sent Favian to the ground with a roar. He waited for the dragon to say the words he needed to say, then without another sound, lifted himself into the air and flew back into the hills.
; He arrived at the mouth of his cave as the sun was beginning to set. A stale scent lingered on the air, and he tasted it with his tongue before stepping inside. A human had been in the cave at some point, but was now long gone. A pile of ash lay in the center of the cave, and he stepped back outside, returning a short while later with branches which he dropped atop the pile of ash before breathing a stream of fire to set them alight. With a sigh of contentment, he dropped himself into the flames as they licked around him, and closed his eyes and slept.
Chapter 37
Evelyn and Keira were in the parlor, laying out the pieces for a new gown, when Aaron and the others returned. He strode into the room and pulled Keira to her feet, kissing her soundly before placing his arm around her waist and turning to greet Evelyn.
“How did it go?” Keira asked as the others trudged in.
“Well. It was evident to all that Xavier is the next master.”
“Is he any better?” Evelyn asked.
Aaron’s expression was somber as he turned to her. “No. If anything, I’d say he’s worse.”
“Worse? But surely he must be starting to remember?”
“I’m sorry, Evelyn. He remembers nothing. He’s little more than a wild beast.”
“The question is, how can he even lead the clan?” Lleland said dismally.
“Or deal with the dissidents,” Zach added. He looked at Aaron. “Seventeen by my count.”
“They will have to be dealt with, and sooner rather than later,” Aaron said. “Perhaps Erik can help us track them down.”
“And then what?” Zach said. “Will Xavier enforce his mastership? Can he create unity within the clan? Perhaps he isn’t meant to lead.” He dropped into a chair, crossed his legs, then rose and began pacing. “He’s given us his blood, broken the curse, maybe we should just leave him to be a beast.”
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