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

by Ava Richardson

  Pushing my shoulders back, I decided if that was the case then I had best be inside the city walls where I might be able to do at least a little good for the citizens there.

  Almost as if she sensed my unease, Jaydra burst out with an excited chirrup. Saffron spun around and stared at her dragon.

  “Everything well?” I asked. “Does the dragon sense anything coming?” Jaydra was always the first to sense anything coming our way, from birds in the sky to army patrols.

  Saffron shook her head and leaned against her dragon with one arm draped over Jaydra’s neck. Her face had paled and worry had darkened her eyes.

  I put my pages away and stood. “What is wrong?”

  Straightening, Saffron scanning the horizon. “Jaydra can smell dragon.”

  Frowning, I shaded my eyes and stared out at the valley and the distant mountain behind Torvald. “There aren’t any dragons with a hundred leagues, and I don’t think there could have been any dragons around Torvald for close onto a hundred years. At least, that’s what everything I’ve read indicates.”

  Saffron closed her eyes, which I thought was an odd way to sense something. She took in a deep breath and I noticed that Jaydra did the same thing at the same time. After a moment, she said, her voice soft, “There were. A lot of them.” She opened her eyes and fixed her stare straight at the peak behind Torvald. “They lived there, near that city. Jaydra can sense them. There were families and broods and dens and many, many clutches. The sky would have been thick with dragons.”

  My breathing quickened. “The old stories really are true. I’ve read them over and over again. All about the great flights of dragons and their riders. There are ruins behind Torvald—some say it was once a great teaching academy, but others hold it was a place of bad luck and is still plagued by sprits who wish ill on the living. But I’ve read of the vast dragon enclosure where the gigantic brood mothers lived. I’ve imagined what the sky would have looked like as flights of dragons swept in and out.” I looked up at the empty sky—filled only with scudding clouds that looked to be bringing rain.

  “What have we lost?” I muttered. My heart gave a lurch.

  And then Jaydra lifted her head and let out a low, rumbling roar. A shiver puckered my skin, and I realized I’d spoken the wrong words.

  What are we about to recover?

  10

  Wild in the City

  Bower said we could reach the city in three days if we kept to the roads, but he disliked the number of soldiers who seemed to be camped around the city. So we kept to the woods and deer trails and it took five more sunrises and sunsets before we came close to the city walls. Bower said we should be glad not to have met any of the Iron Guard, but I didn’t understand why they were such a problem.

  The weather turned cold on the fifth day, with huge clouds that hung low in the sky threatening rain or even snow. I’d been snaring rabbits for our meals. I’d also taught Bower how to find sweet berries to eat, although there were few of them left this time of year. But Jaydra and I showed him how to dig up the Yar roots we’d found, which could be boiled in a skin and made into a good soup. That helped hold off the cold. It also was good to have Jaydra in her dragon form—we slept each night sheltered under her wing, leaning against her warm body.

  Looking up at the tall clouds now, dark on the bottom and white and fluffy on the top, I judged winter would soon be here. The air smelled of rain. A longing for the islands and their warm weather swept through me, but I had to see my quest to its end. I had to learn how to control my magic and it was time to learn the truth about my family.

  Both a sort of wary excitement warred within me—wary due to how Bower seemed to become more nervous the closer we came to Torvald and excited that I might at last find out if this city would reveal the secrets of how to use magic and let me discover why my parents had left me. I didn’t know which I should feel, but the sense that we were close to learning something stayed close to me. This had to be the place—for it was a place where dragons had once lived.

  A chill wind blew from the mountain today and Jaydra could not contain her interest. She pushed her nose in the air and thought to me, Dragons. Many dragons. Not island dragons. Not clutch-family. Some bigger than den-mother. Much bigger. Some not good. Different, changed.

  I listened to her rambling without question, but I caught her mood. Some of the scents captivated her interest, others she disliked and some she distrusted. I could not blame her for starting to be more wary and cautious.

  This was entirely new territory for both of us. I had only ever been around sea dragons and I had no idea what to expect from any dragons that still might live here. The area around the city, too, seemed crowded, the roads choked with what seemed like more people going in than were going out, and even Bower had started to wonder about how we were going to get past the army camps to get to the city gates.

  With all her dragon senses, Jaydra knew little more than I did about this place—her senses were allowing her to slowly piece together the past. They lived there. On the mountain. Many dens all sharing the same mountain.

  “Impossible!” I said and ignored Bower’s strange look at me. On the islands, the dragons all wanted their own spaces—I couldn’t imagine a lot of dragons sharing one den. Bower still wasn’t used to me talking to Jaydra, and I felt sometimes as if he thought I was speaking my thoughts aloud.

  Mighty, mighty magic must have been here. Special place. Many dragon and human dragon-friends. Jaydra kept sniffing the air, even rising up on her back legs now and then as if ready to pounce into flight.

  When I saw her start to spread her wings, I shouted, “Wait! You can’t just fly over there without any idea of what’s underneath you. You’ve heard what Bower’s been telling us. You’ve seen how those in this land react to you.”

  Jaydra doesn’t want to be a horse again. She emitted a short plume of flame. Jaydra fly and hide in the sky.

  I huffed out a breath and stepped over to pat her neck, her scales warm under my touch. “I know. I know you can do that. But what if some archer thinks you’re a bird and an easy practice target—and then finds out you aren’t that at all? We have to use some stealth.” I could feel Jaydra starting to pout, so I added, “How about one good flight, stretch out your wings, before we have to keep to the ground for a time?”

  A fast and furious flight would cheer her up. She was like me in that respect—she liked new experiences and adventure.

  Stepping closer, Bower asked, his eyes wide, “You’re going to fly?”

  He had such amazement in his voice that I had to grin. “What did you think that these wings were for? Decoration?” I tugged on Jaydra’s nearest wing and she spread it out. “Come on. We’re going to need you with us to tell us the names of everything we see. Besides, this is the best way to get past the soldiers that are camped around the city. We can use the clouds to hide, and you can tell us the best spot to land near the gates. Then we can slip into the city.”

  Bower’s mouth fell open. He shut it with a snap and then stammered, “To do what? Where? Up there?” He pointed to Jaydra’s back.

  Where did Bower think flying usually happened? Jaydra gave a chirp and knelt down, lowering her shoulders so we could step up on her foreleg and swing onto her back, sitting just in front of her wings.

  Taking a step back, Bower put up both hands, palms facing me. “I’m not sure. I mean—am I ready for this? Maybe I should stay on the ground and sketch what I can of the process?”

  I gave him the sort of stern look I would expect from den-mother Zenema. “Get your stuff packed up now. Use your cloak to tie the handles of your bags together, then swing up behind me and use your bags sort of like a saddle. Now!”

  Bower moved to tie his bags together. He dragged his feet over it, but he did as I asked. As soon as we had his bags secured, he put his hand on Jaydra’s side. He looked ready to jump back if she so much as sneezed.

  I gave a laugh and pushed him. “You won’t hurt her—
she won’t let you. Not even with those giant paddles you call feet.”

  He frowned and glanced down at his booted feet—they were big, even for a tall, skinny boy like him. With a sour glance at me, he climbed up onto Jaydra’s back, only slipping once. He settling into a seat behind his bags. And he just sat there—not holding on, feet dangling and looking as if he’d slide off the second Jaydra took to the air.

  I sighed. He knew nothing about how to ride a dragon. Climbing up, I settled myself in front of him. “Hold on to me. Grip with your thighs and lean into any turn. Think of it like—

  Like riding a horse, Jaydra thought to me. She snorted out a cloud of smoke.”

  Bower coughed but he put his hands on my sides. “Please tell me you can ride a horse, Bower.”

  “Jaydra is not a horse,” Bower said, his tone tense and stiff.

  Too right, Bower, Jaydra thought to me.

  She stretched out her wings, took a few steps and began to beat at the air with her wings. Her feet lifted, Bower clutched my sides and gave a gasp.

  And then we were above the trees and rising into the clouds.

  Cold air rushed past my face. I could feel Jaydra use the dragon trick to make herself seem only a shadow on the cloud, but I was just glad to be on her back and flying again.

  There really is no time when you feel freer than this, or more alive.

  Jaydra’s powerful wings spread even wider. She rose higher with each strode. Underneath me I could feel her muscles work, and in my mind I could sense her delight. The world below fell away, vanishing into clouds. We rose above the sounds of the soldiers and their clanking armor and weapons, above the smells of the villages and their fires, and far up until all I could hear was the beat of Jaydra’s wings.

  Jaydra soared up into the sunlight above the clouds. The warmth was welcome after the chill below. She lifted her head and turned in a great circle. I loved flying, but my joy could not compare to the delight a dragon savored. Flying completed them—it made them what they were. I wished now that Jaydra would not have to hide as an earth-bound horse again.

  Only a short time, Jaydra thought to me.

  She pulled her wings in close, put her head down and plummeted toward the ground. I gave a laugh. Bowers hands gripped my sides tightly, his fingers digging into my skin. The wind tore at my face, rushed past my ears and forced tears out of my eyes.

  With a whoop, I urged Jaydra on. The clouds slipped past. I lived for these moments when everything else faded and we were not two different creatures but were one in a fierce, electric moment.

  Jaydra rolled and her speed kept Bower and me on her back. She unfurled her wings, letting a sudden catch of air to lift her up into the clouds again. All dragons were master fliers, but I had always thought Jaydra one of the best.

  Glancing back at Bower, I expected to see him frozen with fear. Instead, his face shone red and he was grinning. He gave a shout and Jaydra answered with satisfied agreement. This was fun.

  Jaydra had taken us closer to the mountain. The clouds thinned and I could make out wide streets and tall buildings. Far to the north, I glimpsed mountains and dark green forests. To the east, water gleamed silver in a wide lake.

  Fish, Jaydra thought to me.

  I wondered if we should show Bower how Jaydra liked to go fishing best, but Bower tugging at my tunic.

  Leaning closer, Bower shouted, “Too close.” I shook my head and yelled back, “Jaydra is an expert flier. She can get much closer than this to the ground.”

  He let go of me and pointed down with one hand. “No, too close to the city! They’ve not seen a dragon in generations.”

  Then let us show them, Saffron, what a dragon can do! Jaydra thought and dipped one wing to circle overhead.

  No, Jaydra, there could be panic. People could be hurt.

  Jaydra ignored me, and I caught the mischief she was feeling. She just wanted to play a little, but this was not a game.

  Bower had already made it clear that the people below us did not believe in dragons. If they saw Jaydra now, who knew what might happen.

  Without thinking, I stretched out a hand. The power deep inside me stirred. I closed my eyes and sketched a symbol in the air ahead—something I knew without knowing.

  For a moment nothing happened.

  And then the power burst out with a crack like thunder.

  Lightning split the sky. The clouds closed over us and rain pelted us, freezing cold.

  Bower gasped, as did I. Opening my eyes, I saw Jaydra soar over the shoulder of the mountain and past stony ruins. Lightning flashed again, but the sky had darkened with so many clouds it seemed almost night. No one could see us—but I feared the lightning might strike Jaydra.

  “Land. Behind the city, on the far side of the mountain,” Bower shouted.

  I nodded. We needed to get out of this storm I had called—it was far more than I’d meant to do and it could get us killed.

  Jaydra, you have brought us further and faster than I had ever thought that you could do, please land, now. The compliment was the surest way to get a dragon to do as you wanted.

  Jaydra let out a roar that sounded with the rumble of more thunder. She glided down from the dark clouds until we found a clearing. Rain was still pelting down as Jaydra’s feet touched the ground.

  Sliding off her back, I patted her and told her that she might as well fish the lake. The thunder and lightning hung over the city now, so we were safe for a moment, if almost as wet as if we had been swimming.

  Bower dragged his bags off Jaydra and climbed down, and she flew off to fish the lake. Bower and I scrambled up to a thicket of trees that gave us a little shelter from the rain.

  Collapsing on the ground, Bower grinned and said, “I never expected in my wildest of dreams for anything to be so wonderful!”

  I could only smile and nod. I was cold now and shivering. Bower put his cloak over me and went to gather wood. We soon had a fire going. Jaydra came back with fish for supper. After we’d eaten, I turned to Bower and asked, “So, how do we get into this unfriendly city of yours?”

  Jaydra reluctantly allowed me to shift her into the illusion of a horse. But the trick didn’t want to work at first. It took me three tries, and I could almost think calling up the storm to hide us—as I’d done by accident, intending to call up no more than a cloud—had somehow drained me. At last, a tall horse stood before us. I glanced at Bower and he nodded—if he saw her as a horse, so would others. But I worried. It seemed to me that the illusion was shimmering and a little blurry, almost as if a fog also surrounded Jaydra.

  The good news was that night had fallen, and Bower had a plan.

  “If we come around the city and come in from the lower heights, we’ll enter into the poorer section of the city. There’s not so much traffic there, and should be fewer guards.”

  I hoped he was right.

  It took most of the night to travel down to the gate Bower wanted to use, and Jaydra grumped about how she could fly there in minutes.

  As Bower had said, the gates at this end of the city seemed to be left permanently open. Even as late as it was, a steady stream of people traveled into the city, most of them with handcarts filled with wood or with food carried in baskets and brought in from the farms. The king’s troops camped on all sides of the city, it seemed, but this night they stayed in their tents, out of the cold mud. Sometimes snatches of songs lifted up or shouts from a game being played, but the few guards left on duty looked cold and ignored us.

  Closer to the city, Bower used a few coins—money he called it—to buy himself a turban head wrap and he traded his cloak for a battered, leather tunic. He glanced at me and told me I should be wearing a dress. I didn’t see why, but after he bought me such a garment—in a soft purple—I gave in and pulled it on over my tunic and breeches. He frowned at that, but I wasn’t giving up my own clothes.

  Glancing at Jaydra, Bower asked, “Can you have her limp? As a disguise. That will explain why we aren’t riding
her, and we can tell everyone we’re looking for a blacksmith.”

  Jaydra thought to me that no one had best try to put iron shoes on her.

  “Not going to happen,” I told her.

  Bower glanced at us and hefted the bags in his hands. “Keep your eyes on the ground. Keep walking. If anyone asks any questions, let me talk. Your accent will give you away as a stranger, and that might not end well.”

  I gave a shrug and followed him and a caravan going into the city, but I had to sneak glances up and around us.

  More people were going into the city and no one was leaving. I heard some talking of a fair the king was planning on holding, of games and prizes and food to be offered up next month and for the whole month long to celebrate the anniversary of the Maddox line coming to rescue Torvald and accept the throne. That certainly would account for the crowd coming into the city.

  Never before I had been around so many people. No two were alike. Some were large, others small, some far older than I had ever seen. It was funny to see how some men held children on their shoulders, and the women all seemed to wear long dresses. Their clothes came in every color and style—a few wore rich garments, but most seemed dressed in rough linen such as I had seen in other villages on the main land.

  The gates seemed to be undefended, but then I saw what looked like two large, metal men—but they weren’t men. They seemed to be almost statues made of metal of some king. But that wasn’t right, either. They were larger than any man I had seen and much wider, and looked identical. Both wore helmets and armor. Despite Bower’s warning to look down, I had to glance at them. I had the strangest feeling from them…almost as if I could sense life of some kind inside that metal.