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

by Ava Richardson

  Could he draw the magic from me—or make me willingly use it to bring him more power?

  Next to me, Bower spoke again, his voice tired and strained. “You have to do something, Saffron. Use your powers like you did in my cell. But this time let them go.”

  I shook my head and kept seeing the old man who was my family as he floated before us. “What if I become him?”

  Bower gave what sounded a mad laugh. “You’ll probably kill us both, but if you save Torvald it’ll be worth it.” I glanced at him and he gave me a crooked smile. “Let it out, Saffron. You won’t kill me or Jaydra—I know that. Just blast the walls of Torvald and wake everyone up. You can do it.”

  For an instant, Bower’s faith wrapped around me, warm and somehow comforting. The power within me changed as well, shifted from blazing heat to a fire that felt…felt like a friend’s kind hug. His confidence became mine. What had that old magician said to me—make a friend of magic. Could I?

  And then I thought of Enric, gloating and staring at me with eyes too much like my own. Fear blazed up to mix with my anger. I bit down on it, tried to shove it back. But Jaydra gave a cry.

  She burst from the stables in full dragon glory, and I knew she was about to tangle with the Iron Guard. She was in danger—as was Bower’s city.

  I let loose my anger and my fear—and every ounce of power.

  Magic like a green and gold fireball burst from my hands shattering the cold around me. I reached out, eyes closing and head falling back, but still I could see. And the world pulsed red.

  Watching power and magic burst from Saffron was like watching a terrible summer storm erupt into something deadly. I wasn’t sure we actually would survive this—but I wanted Saffron to think we might. The air around us crackled. Bolts of lightning sparked from Saffron’s skin. She held up her hands and began to sketch the ruins again.

  I shivered, but I could not look away.

  I was watching her call magic to life!

  Her power seemed to be called from the air, from the clouds now scudding in and forming over the tower as if they’d been awoken by Saffron’s power. Colors swirled around us— beautiful greens and golds that leaked from Saffron’s skin and turned to snap at me.

  I had no idea of her powers, and this seemed nothing like the king’s ability to float or hold us still or make himself seem young. The king’s magic seemed to have more in common with nightmares that crept in while you slept. Saffron’s power looked like that of a volcano exploding as I had seen in drawings in books.

  And she has no control over it.

  The thought shook my bones and rattled in my chest. The Saffron I knew had vanished—next to me stood a glowing power that was about to be unleashed. Saffron might not just knock holes in the walls around Torvald and wake everyone—she might blast the palace, the city and everything within miles into dust.

  I had to help her, so I called out over the whirl of wind now tugging at Saffron, “You can do this. Aim for the walls of Torvald—send it out. Use it, my friend.”

  Something shifted within Saffron. She rose into the air, unsteady at first, rocking and stopping, and then she settled into a steady hover above the tower. I held my breath.

  She opened her eyes. Her face shone with the green and gold colors of her powers. She spoke a word in a language I’d never heard and at the same time I heard Jaydra roar.

  Light and power spilled from Saffron’s hand. It shot out not as blast as it had within my cell, but as bolts that blasted into the city walls. The tower shook and rumbled. It tipped and I staggered, free now from the king’s dark, holding magic, but still the city burned. The lightning spread from Saffron’s hands, spilling upwards into the clouds. The air crackled and thunder boomed, shaking the world even more.

  Suddenly, the city seemed to wake with screams and bells ringing alarms. People poured from houses, some streaming toward the gaps in the city walls, fleeing. “You did it,” I called out to Saffron. “It’s done.”

  But still the magic poured from Saffron. The clouds overhead rumbled and rain let loose, pouring down on us and on the city. It bust out almost like a waterfall and now I feared we were replacing fire with flood. Glancing at Saffron I knew she’d lost control utterly—the power wasn’t being controlled, it was pouring out of her. Her skin was no longer glowing, but had taken on a greenish cast. Would this kill her?

  Taking a deep breath, I ran and jumped, grabbing her legs and dragging her from the air.

  For an instant her power seemed to resist and I hung in the air. I closed my eyes, certain now Saffron would blast us all to bits. So I did what I’d done in my cell and called out her name.

  She fell to the stone tower platform with me. I landed on bruises and let out a grunt. Saffron lay still and unmoving. Sitting up, I glanced down at the city.

  Holes had been blasted in the walls—the Iron Guard still stood by the gates, but people were fleeing through the rubble of the walls. The king could mend them eventually, but for now it would be a long time before anyone thought of Torvald as a safe haven. The rain had changed from a solid sheet of water to a steady patter—it would help put out the fires. Torvald would not burn. Not today.

  Turning, I glanced at Saffron. She lay still, her face pale. Lines that looked like streaks of green lightning skittered over her skin and sank back into her. I was almost afraid to touch her.

  But the palace had woken as well.

  I could hear bugles calling out—an alarm perhaps. The king still had his Iron Guard, which he could send after us. We could not stay.

  Looking up into the sky, I thought the word and then called out, “Jaydra!” She had seemed to know when I was talking to her when she’d found me in my cell—I hoped she would hear me now.

  I heard another roar and a crash from where I knew the royal stables to stand. Jaydra lifted into the air, her scales gleaming sea-blue bright in the sun, her wings spread and roaring. Horses neighed and shouts of alarm spread through the palace. Jaydra swept down on the tower, picking up Saffron in one claw and me in the other. It was not the way I preferred to fly, I decided. But it would do.

  Torvald vanished behind us and Jaydra, her wings sweeping the air strong and steady, flew into the west with us.

  Epilogue

  Upon the Dragon’s Breath

  “Magic,” I repeated, watching Bower’s expression. I didn’t know which of us looked the worse, Bower with his bruises now yellow and purple and his cuts half healed or me. My hands still shook, I could stand only for a minute or two, and even just walking down to the golden sands of the shore had left me out of breath. Bower had gotten his much needed food and water—or so Jaydra had told me—and I had slept for three days and three nights. Or so Jaydra had told me.

  The memory of what had happened on the tower blurred in my mind—I could recall giving myself to my anger, my hatred of Enric, to the fear weaving through me. I’d mixed them into something that was all churning emotion and had set them loose. Next thing I knew, Bower was calling my name and then I hit something hard and woke to find myself in Jaydra’s claws and flying over the sky. That had been a relief.

  Bower lifted a hand and wagged it. “I think I saw that.” His mouth twisted into a wry and somewhat pained smile. “And felt that. But you didn’t end the world.”

  “Not for lack of trying,” I mumbled. Reaching over, I touched the ugly bruise that was just starting to go down. Bower flinched and I pulled my hand back.

  I also sat on both hands, tucking them under me and digging my fingers into the cool sand where they could do no harm. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what? Saving Torvald?”

  “For not being able to heal you. Like I said—it’s a curse. Magic.” I spat out the word.

  Bower let out a breath and turned to watch the low ocean waves shush in against the sand. It was low tide and the sun was just starting to think about setting. “The king’s a curse. He will probably search for us—well, for you. From the way he spoke, he does not want
to let your power out of his grasp.”

  I wrinkled my nose and knew I had to tell him the truth. We were friends—we had saved each other. Swallowing hard, I dug my fingers deeper into the sand. “Do you hate me now you know who I really am? Now you know what is inside of me. Maddox magic.”

  Bower glanced at me, his eyebrows lifted high. “You can’t control who your family are. I know about that. You can only pick good friends and maybe that’s a better family.”

  Pulling out a hand, I stared at it. It looked like my hand again, but I could feel the power under my skin, hot and ready for my anger to call it out. “Enric—I have his magic.”

  “Trust me, you don’t.” Bower sat back, stretching his legs out in front of him and propping himself up on his elbows. He’d changed into the clothes we wore in the Western Isles—soft skins sewn together and we’d both left off our boots. The air brushed my skin with salt and ocean spray and a hint of flowers from the islands. A fish jumped in the ocean, scattering white spray. Bower tipped his head to one side and said, “I saw it, Saffron. I saw the magic as I imagine Jaydra might. Yours was beautiful green and gold. The king’s was—”

  “Ugly purple, black and red.” I finished, nodding. “Like your bruises. How is it you can see magic?”

  Jaydra told Saffron Bower has something special. Jaydra landed on the sand behind us and folded her wings tight. She smacked her lips and gave a belch that smelled of smoke and fish.

  I glanced at Bower again. “You don’t mind me having magic?”

  Bower shrugged. “It’d be nice if you could control it just a little more. But the king’s power left me wondering if too much control is a bad thing. Maybe he strangled his magic into submission and that twisted it?” He shrugged, winced and put a hand to his ribs. “So long as you keep it a healthy green and gold, what do I have to mind? That’s like saying I mind that you have frizzy hair.

  I put a hand up to my tied back hair. The ocean air had left it with even more curls. “But I’ll never have a normal life. I can’t—the anger. It can come out anytime.” I wrinkled my nose. “I certainly don’t have anything like a normal family.”

  Bower sat up and held out his hands in front of him. “Well, don’t get angry about it.”

  Laughter bubbled up inside me. It cooled my anger and I let out a giggle. “Well if you insist. You know, all I wanted was to find out who I was. Instead, I find my family comes from a long line of crazed, evil sorcerers.”

  “Not all of them,” Bower said his voice. “Your parents would not have left if they didn’t want to get away from what was being done. And what is normal? My father was gone most of the time when I was growing up. I hardly knew my mother. I’m just as much an orphan as you.”

  A shadow passed overhead and I looked up to see Zenema’s vast shape. She circled once and glided down to land next to Jaydra, who gave a welcoming chirp. For the four days we had been here, Zenema had been gone, visiting a den on one of the other islands. I stood, happy to see my den-mother again. Well, more like relieved. I wanted to pour out my story to her, to ask her what should I do now—I had followed my blood but it had not led anywhere that I wanted.

  However, instead of welcoming me back under her wing, Zenema swept her head down in a low, respectful bow and said in low, clear words that anyone could hear, “Hail Bower, King of Torvald.”

  Bower’s mouth fell open.

  So did mine. I recovered first and stuttered, “Zenema? You can speak the human tongue? And what do you mean King of Torvald? Did Enric die or something?”

  Zenema snuffed out what sounded like a dragon laugh to me, and Jaydra curled her tail around her, looking like she had settled in for one of the den-mother’s ancient tales.

  Zenema spoke again in a voice like warm honey sizzling on hot coals. Somehow Zenema sounded like how she had always sounded in my thoughts—full of dignity, wisdom with a hint of amused fire. “Welcome home, den-daughter, and welcome to my island, True King.”

  Bower started to shake his head. “No, you have that wrong. I’m Bower of House Daris.”

  “Zenema?” I asked. Zenema had never been wrong. Oh, she had said I should follow my blood, and I had—she had not been wrong that I would learn about myself. I just had not cared much for what I had learned.

  Bower’s mouth pulled down, and then he said, his tone stubborn and final, “My father was Nev of House Daris. My mother—”

  “Came from House Flamma,” Zenema said.

  Bower sucked in a breath. “No,” he said, the word firm and final.

  I kept staring at him. Bower—a king? How was that possible? He didn’t know anything about fighting or survival. He had shown the worst instincts I’d ever seen, trusting that false friend of his.

  Can you not feel he is dragon-friend? Zenema sent her thoughts to me, a shimmer of excitement quivering inside her.

  She turned to Bower and spoke aloud again. “Dragons sense the true master of Dragon Mountain—that is you, Bower of House Flamma-Torvald. Your father might be of House Daris, but your mother brings you the blood of kings. We are bonded, Bower, dragon-friend. There is a connection there that cannot be denied, for you are the last true king, the last of the House Flamma-Torvald.

  Zenema bowed again. Jaydra inclined her head as well. She had been telling me she had felt something about Bower. Now I knew why he could see magic, and he had been able to call to Jaydra to carry us away from the palace tower.

  I knelt in the sand and bowed my head. “You are the True King of prophecy. You have come from the dragon’s breath to take back your throne.”

  Bower tugged on my tunic, trying to get me to stand. “Stop that. Stop saying that. I’m Bower of House Daris.”

  Lifting her head, Zenema towered over us. “You dare name Zenema of the Western Isles a liar.”

  Bower’s face blanched and then reddened. “Would I even make a good king? What if I end up choosing poor advisers—people like Vic? My father taught me well, but mostly he had taught me to question myself, and I have to wonder if the people really prefer Enric?

  “The king who would tax them to death but also would give them a fair to celebrate his rule—and then try to kill them all?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I can see why the people might love such a king. Love him to leave!”

  Zenema touched a claw to my shoulder and turned to Bower. “Your mother came from House Flamma-Torvald. Her mother, as a child, had been hidden by the Dragon Riders. I know for I am a dragon who once lived within Dragon Mountain.”

  Both Bower and I sucked in breaths. Zenema snuffled out an amused breath. “Yes, and that is why my Jaydra finds her human—finds you, Saffron, to be her rider. But, you, Bower-child, you have as much to learn of yourself as does Saffron-child. Learn you will together now.”

  “A king without a crown, a horse or even so much as a city,” Bower muttered.

  I thumped his shoulder. “Then we shall have to take back your crown, Bower of House Daris. Or should I say King Bower of House Flamma-Torvald. As a child of House Maddox it is my blood-duty to make things right between our houses. We shall take back your kingdom.” I grinned. Bower’s mouth twitched. Leaning closer, feeling the rightness of my words and Jaydra’s pleased expectation of battles to come, I told him, “And for your steed, you will ride on the back of a dragon!”

  End of ‘Dragons of Wild’

  - Book 1 of the Upon Dragon’s Breath Trilogy

  Upon Dragon’s Breath Trilogy

  Book 1: Dragons of Wild

  Book 2: Dragons of Kings

  (Release: 28th December 2016)

  Book 3: Dragons of Dark

  (Release: 22nd February 2017)

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  High-born Agathea Flamma intends to bring honor to her family by following in her brothers’ footsteps and taking her rightful place as a Dragon Rider. With her only other option being marriage, Thea will not accept failure. She’s not thrilled at her awkward, scruffy partner, Seb, but their dragon has chosen, and now the unlikely duo must learn to work as a team.

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