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

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Dragons of Wild (Upon Dragon's Breath Trilogy Book 1) Page 16

by Ava Richardson


  I stared at Saffron. Her hair had come undone around her face and right now it seemed almost a fire around her. Sparks flashed in her eyes. She was almost as grand as Jaydra when she was in her dragon form.

  And suddenly it all made sense to me.

  The Salamanders—their emblem of a dragon’s tail, not a lizard. It was not that everyone who opposed House Maddox had died—they had been smarter than that. They’d become a force within the kingdom—the flame within. They must believe House Maddox could be overthrown and the rightful dragon-friends of Torvald put back on the throne. But who was their leader? We needed King Enric to have order and control, but I could see now why King Enric had become so harsh with his laws—he feared the Salamanders. He didn’t want anyone studying the past in case the city turned against him. But I was starting to worry that perhaps King Enric had turned against Torvald.

  Saffron thumped a hand onto the book. “You have not given me proof of anything. You’ve just told me my great-great-whatever used those metal soldiers to drive away the dragons. Dragons like Jaydra! Well, I don’t believe it.” She huffed out a breath and half turned away.

  I stepped in front of her again. “Saffron, that is all in the past. But this is what you have to look at now.” Opening the book again, I pointed to a broken family branch and one name that stood out

  I tapped the name. “Vance Maddox was, by all that is known, the younger brother to Hacon. Legend has it that he was seduced by the dragon-friends of Torvald and ended up betraying his own brother during the liberation of Torvald, as it’s often called. Some said he was put to death, but other stories hold that his brother cursed him with misfortune. This book is one of the oldest in the kingdom and has been kept accurate by my family for centuries, and look at what is written.”

  The page was smeared and blurry due to the poor treatment my library had met with, but next to Vance Maddox’s name someone had written in the name Iris and under that was the note of a girl child named Amelia. “Wasn’t that your mother’s name?” I asked.

  Saffron glanced at the book and her face paled. She sat down with a thump and put her face in her hands. Looking up at me, she asked, “Nothing is well. What am I going to tell Jaydra? How can I ever meet my real blood-kin family knowing what they did? And how can I go back to the Western Isle?” Tears shimmered in her eyes.

  I put a hand on her shoulder. “Saffron, maybe this is a chance for all of us to do better. What if you’ve come here to convince King Enric that dragons are good? What if, because of you, peace comes to the land? This is a chance for House Maddox to become something far better than it has been.”

  Shaking her head, she stood. “Is it? I thought I would be pleased to find out about my family. Instead, I find they are nothing that I want. It’s like with this city—it’s dirty and not what anyone said. What if I’m the one who only brings trouble with me? You just don’t understand what I needed from my family—and now…now how can I ever ask them for anything!” With a deep sob, she turned and ran from the room.

  I thought about following her, but another thought popped into my head.

  Better to leave Saffron to settle.

  It was an odd thought, for it didn’t feel like my own.

  Heading back to the library—books, or the few I had at least, were one thing that brought me comfort—I settled to the task of trying to rescue all the pages I could.

  This had to be difficult for Saffron and it wouldn’t surprise me if she left tomorrow and never returned. But if she stayed, perhaps she could change King Enric’s mind about dragons.

  Even such a thought made my head whirl. We might see a whole new history begin. And then I looked at the torn pages, the books ripped into shreds. All ruined and for what—just to keep history unknown?

  Settling into sorting out the pages gave me not just comfort, but I also thought of my time away from the city. It had not been that long, but at one time if someone had asked me what the kingdom would do without King Enric I would have been horrified. It was unthinkable. Now I began to wonder if Saffron could change him—and if she could not, then perhaps the Salamanders should be given the power to put King Enric off the throne.

  However, there was still the Iron Guard—they would protect King Enric at all cost. It seemed an impossible idea to even consider the king stepping down willingly for the good of the kingdom.

  But what if I left with Saffron and her dragon?

  Outside in the stables right now there was a living dragon, capable of the most amazing things. Looking down at the ruined books, they seemed far less important to me. I had been flying on a dragon.

  I smoothed another rumpled page that could be salvaged. Someone else someday would need this knowledge. For me, it was all stored in my head.

  I don’t need these books—I can’t hide behind them anymore.

  Taking the pages I could save, I found a discarded chest, folded the pages into an oilskin that had been left in the kitchen. In the garden, I pried loose a rock and tucked the pages away under that. Someone else would find this treasure and sort it out. It was time for me to stop reading about adventures and start living them.

  Going back up to the library, I took the three books that were still mostly intact. I would take them to Jakson in the morning. For tonight, I would spend a little more time with my old friends.

  I stroked a hand over my copy of Erp’s Tales, an ancient and faded book of stories my father had once read to me. It had been a favorite book, and I was glad to see it had survived when so little else had. Perhaps it had for it looked worn and not worth very much.

  The warm glow of memory spread through me. I rubbed my hand over its familiar, board cover. Sitting down, I decided to read just one story—the story of the dog-eared boy who discovered he was actually really an enchanted dog.

  I settled back to flick through its pages, using only bright moonlight to read the text.

  A fold of thick paper fell out, fluttering to the floor.

  Wondering what this could be, I scooping up the page and unfolded it. My chest tightened and my hands numbed.

  My father’s strong, slanted handwriting marched across the paper—two embossed seals at the bottom marking this as not just from House Daris—but also from another famed house—House Flamma.

  My skin prickled. That was a name from legend. But why was this here?

  Shaking now, I almost didn’t want to read this note. The old anger flared—why had my father not been more cautious? Why had he not begged the king for pardon? Part of me wanted to put away this note, but my curiosity drove me, as it always had. My father had hidden this away before he had been taken from us and executed. I had to know what he’d written.

  Unfolding the page, I read the few lines there.

  My son,

  If the time has come for you to read this, I have passed beyond this world’s troubles. For that, and for not being there to guide you, I offer my heartfelt apologies. But you have already shown in your few years, the makings of a courageous heart and so at least some of my sadness is comforted. Now I must pass on the terrible burden that you must keep and a trust that you must follow.

  King Enric is one of the many reasons why I have chosen to hide this and sought to keep you safe by keeping you ignorant of the truth. So few families of the old regime are alive, and even fewer are those who can be trusted. It was once said that the greatest, next to the kings of Torvald, was the House Flamma. Never forget this.

  ‘Never a Flamma far from her dragon’ was the old saying. Your mother and I hoped to secure you a future. However, that was not to be. We were betrayed and so this truth must come to you with these few words.

  The House Maddox is not the rightful kings of Torvald. They usurped the throne from the House Flamma-Torvald, dragon-friends and Dragon Riders. The House Flamma-Torvald oversaw the Dragon Academy on Mount Hammal.

  Hacon Maddox stole the throne and sought to destroy all dragons, this was not done without one of the oldest of dragons giving this
prophecy to the Dragon Riders. Memorize these words and keep Torvald safe.

  Old and young will unite to rule the land from above. Upon the dragon’s breath comes the return of the True King. It will be his to rebuild the glory of Torvald.

  The last word looked hurriedly scrawled and blurred as if my father had not had time for the ink to dry before he had folded this and hidden it.

  I leaned my back against the wall, the letter crumpling in my hand.

  Everything I thought I’d known about my father suddenly seemed to not be what I’d thought it was.

  I’d thought him just a simple man, trying to help others. I’d thought he’d broken the law and had been arrested.

  Now I was left wondering. And worried. Why had my father thought this prophecy was the most important thing to leave me? Why had he hidden it? Was this the prophecy the Salamanders thought to use to throw House Maddox from the throne?

  I knew but two things now—Saffron was of the House Maddox, and her family had killed mine.

  I could only sit and stare at the letter and wonder if I should burn it.

  13

  The Ruler of Torvald

  Saffron? Jaydra’s voice in my head woke me up a fraction before the shadow loomed over my face. I opened my eyes to see red and silver metal—a soldier’s helmet. Early dawn glinted across the metal face.

  A hand gloved in red metal shot out to almost clasp my arm. But Jaydra had warned me. I was already rolling off the bed where I’d collapsed last night. My boots hit the floor and anger bubbled up, hot and dark.

  I can destroy them.

  The thought came on a rising wave of fury—at Bower for telling me I was a Maddox, at my family for what they had done, at the world for being so unjust. I let the power surge through me like the front of a storm. Fragments of words and dragon-fire sizzled in my chest. I thought of Jaydra’s golden eyes when she was angry and Zenema’s powerful teeth and claws. I called on the force within me and the world turned white.

  Saffron! Jaydra called out again to me with desperate need, a roar in my mind. I am losing you—come back to me!

  I realized I’d almost snapped my connection with Jaydra. This had happened before when I’d been angry and had summoned the magic within me. It was too much like the time I almost plummeted to my doom on the cliffs.

  Gulping a breath, I tried to focus on the world around me. I dodged another metal hand as the giant guard in the room with me reached for me. His fingers raked the wall. I turned for the window, intending to throw myself out of it. I would get to Jaydra and then come back and burn this silly city to the ground.

  A dull voice ground out one word, “Stop.” This time the metal hand caught me by the shoulder. It was like being held by a mountain, the grip seemed unbreakable, but I feared my bones might break under such a force. The Iron Guard held me fast.

  Jaydra was roaring in my mind. The Iron Guard spun me away from the window and I saw a small man in a uniform.

  The small man stepped up to me. As soon as he spoke I realized he was the one who had ordered me to stop—he was controlling the Iron Guard.

  Thin lipped, he looked as if he’d smelled something sour. He told me, “Don’t resist if you want your friend to live.”

  A muffled thump sounded from outside the room and a shout that sounded like Bower.

  I shivered in the cold dawn and tried to pull free of the grip on my arm and shouted at the guard, “Don’t hurt him.”

  The guard stepped closer to me. “You do not give the orders. One word from me and you will be torn limb from limb.” The Iron Guard grabbed my other arm and began to pull. I yelled. My shirt slipped down from my shoulder and the man in front of me stepped back his eyes widening.

  I knew then what I must do. “Harm me, and the king himself will have your head.”

  Eyes narrowing, the guard stepped up to me and touched the black mark on my collar bone as if it was dirt that could be scrubbed away. He frowned and nodded to the Iron Guard. “Take her. The other traitor, too. We’ll sort this out at the palace.”

  I threw my thoughts at Jaydra, afraid she would leap into this and be hurt. I was not yet certain if she was a match for these Iron Guards, but I knew I was too angry to control myself or my magic. Jaydra was much the same. I could imagine her smashing this house and the others around it in search of me, or setting fire to the entire neighborhood. “Jaydra. Hide.”

  Den-sisters fight together! I could sense Jaydra shifting back into her dragon form. It would only be a short leap until she flew up to the floor where I was being held.

  No, Jaydra! I need you safe—I need Bower to be safe. I focused on how worried I was for Bower.

  I knew it was harsh to use her liking for Bower against her, but if these Iron Guard had once drive all the dragons from this city, they might know how to kill a single dragon. I also focused on my thoughts that perhaps Bower was right and I could change the king’s mind. Jaydra, I have to meet my people and this Iron Guard will take me to them.

  I might not be very clever in the ways of the world, but I knew that if I wanted everyone in Torvald to see the beauty and loyalty of a dragon they must see a dragon at its best and not in a rage.

  Jaydra sent back to me a rage so strong it knocked me back on my heels. I let the Iron Guard drag me from the room and kept my focus on Jaydra.

  Hide, I urged her. Use your dragon tricks here. As soon as you can, fly away. Go back to the Western Isles. Tell den-mother Zenema what happened here. She’ll know what to do.

  Reluctantly, Jaydra’s anger faded. She withdrew from my mind before I could tell if she would do as I asked. I could still feel her annoyance. If something did happen and she felt me in pain and distress, I feared she would tear the city apart to get to my side.

  It was comforting to have a dragon on my side. That let me push back my shoulders and nurse my anger instead of giving into fear.

  We marched down the stairs and into the biggest room on the first floor. Bower lay on the floor and one of the Iron Guard stood over him, immobile and silent. For a moment, I feared Bower must be dead, but he gave a groan. His face looked cut and blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. I struggled to slip from the grasp of the Iron Guard, but he would not release me, so I slanted a look at the human guard. “Let me go, or face the king’s wrath when I tell him what has been done this day.”

  The man’s mouth pulled down. He hesitated, but at last gave a nod. The Iron Guard released his hold, and I knelt next to Bower and touched a finger to his forehead. His skin seemed so hot.

  “Saffron,” Bower gasped.

  “At least you are alive. Oh, the trouble you seem to find for yourself—and for me as well.”

  “Enough. Put them in irons,” The guard stepped out of the front door and spoke to someone standing there. “Your information proved true. The king will remember you for this?”

  “And the reward? There was a reward mentioned.”

  My skin chilled at the sound of that voice.

  “Vic,” Bower snarled. He struggled to push up from the floor. I helped him to stand, but the Iron Guard clamped shackles onto our ankles and wrists. “I was your friend.”

  Vic Cassus glanced into the house, eyes wide and startled. A plain, heavy travelling cloak swept from his head down to his booted ankles. Probably trying to hide his identity, I thought.

  I stared back at him, wondering if I could accuse him of something that would have him arrested. But I glanced at Bower and saw the sorrow in his eyes—even now, he thought of this man as his friend.

  “Sorry, Bower. I’m not sure you understand how things work now in the city. This is not your realm of olden tales.” Vic lifted a hand. “You know well that if my family does not have the king’s good grace—and money to keep the old house going—we shall perish. Just as did House Daris. King Enric’s word is law, and King Enric has vowed to reward all who are loyal to him. I for one am loyal.”

  “And why will he ever trust you since you have proven you will
betray a friend?” I spat at him. “You may profit in the short run, but in the long, you will find you have no friends.”

  He had the decency to look away from me, refusing to meet my stare. Bower was dragged into an enclosed wagon and the Iron Guard pushed me in as well.

  For a moment, I listened for Jaydra’s voice—but I could not hear her. I could not reassure her that everything was going to be well. She was gone. Relief eased my shoulders for a moment. After all, how could I reassure her that Bower and I would be safe when I had no idea if that was the truth.

  Slumped against the wooden wall of the enclosed wagon, I could only hold my aching ribs and wince as the wheels rumbled over the cobblestones. Saffron’s chains clanked and so did mine. The wagon smelled of stale urine, sweat and fear. My only consolation was that I had hidden away my books and the letter from my father with the prophecy—but I wanted to kick myself for trusting Vic.

  I’d thought he would be himself—the man who watch the shows at the courthouse but who did not involve himself. I had thought him too good a friend to ever take coins to betray someone. He was right in one respect—I had not known before this how much things had changed. If the king had everyone frightened enough to sell out the very people who were supposed to be their best friends, then life here had become intolerable.

  But outside the wagon the sounds of a fair starting up could be heard—music and vendors calling out. The wagon rumbled on past those sounds and started to climb—to the palace.

  Worst of all—I had let Saffron down. I might as well have betrayed her myself, for I was the one who had trusted Vic.

  I had never felt so tired, so low or in as much pain as this. Closing my eyes, I listened to the city, wondering that life could go on seemingly without a protest over two innocents being swept up to be taken to what would probably be their deaths.

  And I had been one of those who had turned away from such things.

  I could remember Master Julian’s scream still—and how I had wanted to help. But I had not acted in time. Again, I had been slow—I had not gotten us away from House Daris. No, I’d wanted my books saved and for Saffron to sleep in a bed, and all that would now cost us dearly.

 

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