Dragons of Wild (Upon Dragon's Breath Trilogy Book 1)

by Ava Richardson

  It gave another bellow and charged me.

  Instead of leaping over the ditch, it tumbled blindly into the deep gash beside the road. It really couldn’t see all that well. Stones sprayed up as the bear struggled to right itself. I didn’t wait for it to get free. It was panting with exertion and white foam dripped from its face.

  I was just as exhausted, but fear pushed me on. I jumped over the bear and headed back to the wood. Behind me, the scrabbling of rocks told me the bear was climbing out of the ditch. It roared again and started after me.

  Heading into the woods, I slashed at the smaller branches that blocked my path. I was going to die like this, killed by a mangy, half-mad, blind bear. But I wouldn’t die without a fight.

  Turning, chest heaving, hands and face cold, I faced my doom.

  The huge bear roared and lunged for me. And I could no longer face it—squeezing my eyes closed, I braced for it to strike me and tear me apart.

  Something hit my chest with a hard thump, almost like a shove of someone’s hand. Air rushed from my lungs and more air swooshed past me. I tumbled head over heels. It was painful, but it didn’t feel like claws or teeth were ripping me apart. The world spun. My stomach gave a hard flip. Branches and leaves tore at me and past me. And then I smacked into something hard. Grabbing for it, I clung to rough bark. I could hear the rustle of leaves. I opened my eyes. My feet dangled, but I had my arms wrapped around a thick, oak branch.

  Below, the bear snuffled, searching for my scent, I was sure, and lifted its head to give an angry roar.

  A hand fell on my shoulder and I glanced to one side to see Saffron. I was expecting to see a rope in her hand—surely she had used one to pull me up here. For an instant, I wondered if she’d somehow slammed me up here with a punch. But that was impossible.

  However, Saffron simply straddled the branch I was hanging onto, smiling at me as if there was some joke in all this.

  I looked down at my chest. The tightness had gone, almost as if something had let go of me. How had I gotten here? How had Saffron managed to pick me up with what seemed to be an invisible force? I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn’t think what, and the words fell out. “I’m in a tree.”

  “Better than being on the ground right now.” Saffron glanced down at the bear. It roared again, and pawed at the ground, as if it thought I’d somehow buried myself.

  “I’ve heard them called grim-bears. They’re pretty stupid by what I’ve seen. Creatures of instinct really, but they are bad tempered. And there are a lot of them around.”

  “But…I am in a tree! How did I get here? I’m not entirely sure what—”

  Saffron put her fingers over my mouth and leaned close to whisper, “Hush. Someone’s coming!”

  7

  Dragon Tricks

  A simple dragon trick allowed me to make Jaydra seem like a horse. Of course, she could hide herself, but I didn’t want Bower bumping into her. It had seemed likely he might.

  By what I could tell, Bower and the few people I’d met so far in this strange land were more primitive to me than any dragon-clutch or island village. They didn’t know any dragon tricks. I had thought they would be able to shape fire or call light, but I’d done that once and had been called a witch. It didn’t take long to realize these people couldn’t make themselves quiet so that they became almost invisible, a skill that I had learned alongside Jaydra. And they didn’t know how to shape light to change the shape of what someone saw.

  It was easy enough to do.

  I breathed deep, let my thoughts slip into the sky, and concentrated only on my breathing. I spread myself into the calls of the birds, to the crackle of the leaves on the branches, the creaks of tree limbs, and to the distant noises of the forest.

  Then I looked at Jaydra and saw the light around her, and shifted that into the light coming off a long-legged, tall horse with a blue-black coat.

  Okay, so a little green got in there still, too.

  She still looked more horse than dragon, unless you knew how to see past the light around her.

  She wasn’t happy about that—she wasn’t happy about Bower leaving us, either.

  Watching Bower walk away from the ruins where we’d spend the night, I had to admit it was a lot like watching a dragon dive to its death in stormy waters. My chest tightened and a churning in my stomach that told me I had made the wrong choice. But he was going one way and I was heading another.

  Saffron cannot leave Bower. Jaydra said in my mind. She swished her tail—it made a louder sound than a horse tail should, but I couldn’t do anything with light to disguise that.

  I let out a sigh. “Yeah, I know. If I can jump him so easily, I don’t know what he’d do out there on his own. But his path is in a different direction.”

  No. Bower is connected. The bond tugs on me…and you. Jaydra sounded quite certain of this, but I wasn’t.

  Zenema would say we have a duty to find out why there is a bond.

  I sighed and could almost hear our den mother’s voice in Jaydra’s thoughts.

  Zenema was always telling us to go after the things that scared us, after the things we didn’t understand, or the things that could help us understand better. It was her who encouraged me to find out about my past, after all. She said it was like learning to fly.

  No hatchling wants to fly, until they do. You are always scared, but you will never know just what you really are until you try. When you fly, you find out more than you expected.

  Kicking at the grass Bower had tried to feed to Jaydra, I wondered if we were meant to go after Bower. It wasn’t in my plans, but I was here to find things out. So we would just have to see what happened next. I glanced over at Jaydra. “You’re going to have to stay looking like a horse.”

  Jaydra growled, which was a disconcerting sound to have come out of a gangly horse.

  “When you fly, you’ll have to be invisible. A flying horse could just get shot down. By what we’ve seen, this whole world is out to fight something. Everyone has metal weapons and high walls around the towns. And you heard Bower—he thinks his own city is dangerous.”

  City! No dragon would ever build such a thing. Jaydra gave a snort. That was a better sound to have coming from a horse.

  I patted her neck, feeling scales under the illusion of her looking like a horse. “You’re right about that. But dragons don’t need walls—your scales are your defenses, and you have claws and fire. But you have to admit that some of the things we’ve seen—buildings almost like mountains, and houses with steam coming out of brick chimneys, and lines of people all marching down a road—are pretty impressive.

  Jaydra gave another snort. Not as pretty as the ocean and white surf on the sand, and not as nice as a good, warm cave.

  I had to grin. Jaydra was right—and the images she sent me left me longing to go back to our clutch and the islands. Before I could do that I had to learn how to control my magic. A simple dragon trick was not a threat to anyone—but I could feel my magic under my skin, itching to leak out. The urge to use it was growing stronger every day, and if I didn’t learn to manage it, it might burst out in a way that would harm not just those around me but me as well.

  Jaydra sensed my worry. She gave a deep, rattling purr that reverberated even through my chest.

  Saffron my den-sister, Jaydra thought at me, buffeting me with her fierce loyalty and bumping me with her nose. I was humbled.

  She had stuck by me on this. She didn’t have to come. She could have stayed on the islands, fishing in the seas and scaring the villagers and tumbling and playing with her clutch-brothers and sisters.

  Putting my arms around her neck and breathing in the scent of pine on her, I said, “And Jaydra is mine,” I said. “Now come on, we must find that oaf of a boy before he manages to break his neck. And you’re going to have to be a horse for a time—or invisible.”

  Jaydra huffed a breath of smoke and shook herself. The horse standing before me changed back into a young dragon
. She shook herself again. Her scales began to look more like the leaves of the forest, and her bright eyes gleamed like sunlight on water droplets. She shifted on her legs and they became tree trunks. Spreading her wings, they changed from huge, dragon wings into seeming to be odd colored clouds.

  Slowly, she vanished.

  She was there, but she looked so much a part of the world that most would look right past her. I knew the trick, too.

  Breathe in, breathe out. Feel the environment around you.

  The same trick came as naturally to me as swimming…or riding a dragon. I slipped onto Jaydra’s back now, and I knew I was just as difficult to see as she was.

  Anyone looking at us would see the forest, they would hear the birds, the hum of the insects and the sigh of the wind in the branches. The world would be just as they expected—and glances would slide past Jaydra and me.

  I liked this merging into other things— becoming so much a part of the world that I was no longer a person but a part of the sounds and the woods. The world flowed together to form one mosaic.

  For we are all one really. I am a part of this forest just as is Jaydra.

  In fact, the only thing that was not really part of this forest had to be Bower. Even from this distance I could hear the thump of his books and his grumbling. I knew when he left the road to head into the forest, and when he passed other travelers.

  No one noticed me or Jaydra.

  It wasn’t really magic. Not like what the old Hermit had once told me about. It wasn’t making someone float or teleporting or even reading someone’s mind. This was more a natural talent that many wild creatures had, along with unerringly finding their way home, or appearing fiercer and bigger than they were. It was all about focus or the lack of it.

  That was the real trick.

  I had never really thought about it before. But chatting with Bower that had made me think about the difference between us. Growing up with dragons and on an island, I had always felt as if I belonged to the dragons and to the islands. Bower wasn’t like that. He looked different and seemed to act different from anyone I had met here.

  There was something special about him.

  He had almost seen Jaydra, after all, and he shouldn’t have. And Jaydra had felt some sort of connection with him. I couldn’t help but think there was a whole lot he missed and that he was disconnected from himself and the world around him.

  But that had me thinking about my own lack of connections—wasn’t I seeking those things here?

  Climbing up on Jaydra’s back, I settled myself. With a quick, pouncing move and a surge of strength, Jaydra lifted into the air and spread her wings.

  My heart beat faster to be on Jaydra’s back again. Wind stung my cheeks. I grinned.

  I was riding on a dragon, skimming above the canopy of trees. A part of me kept thinking this is just as everything should be.

  But everything wasn’t quite so smooth.

  I wasn’t sure what I was going to tell Bower—that I was following him, that I didn’t think he could handle the wilderness on his own, or that I wasn’t letting him out of my sight until he agreed to take me to Torvald? None of those seemed like good things, so I asked Jaydra just to circle high overhead where we could keep an eye on Bower and I could think.

  But Jaydra’s worry interrupted my own. Trouble, Jaydra thought at me.

  Glancing down, it wasn’t hard to spot Bower. He burst out of the woods at a run. Behind him one of the bear creatures that seemed to be everywhere came out of the woods.

  “We have to help him, Jaydra. Dive lower.” I pointed to where the sweep of a road cut through the valley like a knife. Ditches lined either side of the road. Bower jumped across and stopped—as if that was a good idea.

  Jaydra dove lower, and the bear lunged at Bower. Thankfully, the bear fell into the ditch, but I knew Bower wasn’t out of trouble.

  “Fly, Jaydra, fly!” I told her.

  She gave a rumble and picked up speed.

  Bower had seemed to realize he was still in danger. The bear was climbing out of the ditch—and Bower was running again for the woods.

  A band tightened around my chest. I hunched over Jaydra’s neck. I feared even Jaydra wouldn’t get there in time to save Bower. I was going to have to use magic.

  But I couldn’t—what if it went wrong? What if I killed Bower?

  Bear plans to kill Bower anyway, Jaydra thought at me.

  She was right. And I had to act fast. Bower and the bear were back in the woods and Bower wasn’t as fast as the bear.

  This isn’t magic. This is just a forest trick.

  I tried to hang onto that idea. Maybe if I wasn’t so worried about what I was doing it would go better.

  Extending my mind toward Bower I tried to think of this as being like how Jaydra could extend her claws to catch a fish in the sea. We were close now—almost hovering right above the trees and Bower and the bear.

  My head pounded. Sweat sprung up on my forehead. I stretched out my mental talons and slammed them into Bower. In my mind I saw him fly into the air, away from the bear. But he was still in danger.

  Tightening my hand, the invisible talons that existed in my mind closed around Bower.

  Jaydra swung around and I jumped from her back and grabbed the nearest tree branch. I clung there, struggling to bring Bower up next to me. Instead, I was crashing him around through the branches, scraping leaves into him. With a gasp, I focused only on him—on my mental talons that had hold of him.

  Suddenly, it almost felt like a natural, simple movement.

  He thudded down on the branch next to me. I leaned back, breathing hard, sweat cold on my skin, shaking now.

  Bear waits for Bower and now Saffron to come down, Jaydra thought at me. Jaydra likes bear meat.

  I could feel her annoyance at not having the chance to attack the mutant bear-creature, but she also understood my earlier insistence that I protect her from them. I didn’t know enough about this land to say just what these creatures were capable of. Were they poisonous to dragons? Would Jaydra get sick if she ate one?

  No! We can’t risk that. This bear doesn’t look right and we don’t know enough to say if it’s sick and could make you sick. I thought the words to her. Her annoyance at not having the chance at a fight came back to me. But I could at least give her something to do that might make her feel better. Can you find Bower’s books and things? He doesn’t have them with him.

  Jaydra has Bower’s scent. She sent me an image of being able to track Bower—or his things—anywhere.

  Bower seemed dazed. I put a hand on his shoulder and he looked at me, eyes wide and twigs stuck in his hair. “I’m in a tree!”

  He looked a mess—his hair tumbled and his cloak torn—and he frowned at me. I dreaded to think just what he must be thinking. Would he call me a witch now? Would I have to tell him about my tricks—and about Jaydra? My heart was pounding, and we had to rid of that bear before it decided to try and climb the tree. Jaydra wasn’t really big enough yet to hold both of us— and fly far.

  I gave a shrug for an answer and said, “Better than being on the ground right now.” Looking down at the bear, I wondered how long it would hang around. It roared again and pawed at the ground. “I’ve heard them called grim-bears. They’re pretty stupid by what I’ve seen. Creatures of instinct really, but they are bad tempered. And there are a lot of them around.”

  “But…I am in a tree! How did I get here? I’m not entirely sure what—”

  Leaning close, I slapped my hand over his mouth. Jaydra had breathed one word into my mind—Riders. She let me share her sensations—she could smell horses and humans and hear the clop of their hooves and the jangle of their harnesses.

  I leaned close to Bower to whisper, “Hush. Someone coming.”

  To my surprise he actually took heed of my warning.

  Within moments, I heard the riders with my own ears and not just with Jaydra’s dragon senses. The bear, too, stopped snuffling and lifted its h
ead. It let out a low, long growl.

  The beat of hooves on the hard road faltered. A shout rose up. From high up where we sat in the tree, I could just glimpse what looked like banners on spears and I counted five of them. Then a sword, raised high, glinted in the sunlight.

  “What is it?” Bower muttered beside me, his words muffled by my hand.

  I pulled my fingers away. “Soldiers. Five, I think.”

  His face paled. He gulped and struggled to climb up on the limb. I had to help him, but the bear ignored us now. It had turned to face the road and gave another roar that sounded like a challenge to me. I sent my thoughts to Jaydra for her to stay hidden and safe—we were safe as well as long as the soldiers didn’t look up. But just in case, I used the trick to make us seem nothing more than leaves and branches—we were just part of the forest.

  Below us, the soldiers marched into the woods, their armor clanking. I heard a horse whinny and muttered orders were given—someone was being left to hold the horses. Then the soldiers tromped forward again, making enough noise to scare away every bird and forest creature.

  But not the bear. It bellowed again and clawed at the earth, leaving huge gouges in the fallen leaves and dark dirt.

  Four soldiers stepped from the trees in a rough semi-circle. All of them wore helmets that hid their faces and armor with a mark on the front that I had learned meant they were the king’s soldiers. Three of them carried spears with fluttering banners attached. One swung up a wicked longsword. He pointed at the bear with his sword and called out. “You know the orders. Bring the beast down—it’s half mad already.”

  The two soldiers to his right stepped forward.