Earth Born (The Earth Born Cycle Book 1)

by N. E. Conneely

  The head rolled away from the body.

  Perhaps later she would regret killing that one, but not tonight. It was born of blood magic, and nothing good came from blood magic. Plus she couldn’t leave it behind and risk having it attack the dragons, brownies, Cord, or even her during a vulnerable moment. This was war.

  She turned away from the body and scanned the area for another set of attackers. Since the silence spell didn’t affect those creatures, someone was sure to have heard the fighting and screams. Instead of continuing toward the gathering area, she found a large dragon and hunkered down behind it.

  There were pinpricks of light in what she would guess was the center of the gathering area. Between her and that area were a myriad of dragons but not much else. While she could hide behind some of them on her way over, if any of those creatures had a dragon’s hearing, they would know she was coming well before she got there. That was unless she figured out how to make some type of a distraction.

  She couldn’t help but look at the dining area. It was entirely in the wrong direction, but if she could get into the kitchen, she could make a distraction that should keep most of the strange part-dragon, part-human creatures busy. Though there was always the chance that Mr. Evil would accomplish whatever he was here to do while she was sidetracked. As much as she didn’t want any harm to come to the dragons, charging across a mostly open field to attack an unknown number of enemies armed with wings, claws, and magic wasn’t the brightest idea either.

  Distraction it was. Lips clamped tight to hold back unladylike language, Shasta turned, snuck around the dragon she was using as a hiding place, and dashed for the next dragon large enough to provide cover. She’d put about two hundred feet between her and the bodies when movement caught her eye. She peered over a dragon’s neck. Sure enough, some number of the creatures were examining the ones she’d killed. From her vantage point, it looked like a group of at least three, though there could’ve been more in the shadows.

  Rather than study them, she kept her body low, scooting behind one dragon after another. Since each creature seemed to have slightly different abilities, she wasn’t sure that watching them would show her much. And she couldn’t see a sense of smell, which was the mostly probable way for them to track her. The best thing she could do was keep moving and hope they reported back to their master before coming after her.

  For once luck was on her side, and she made it under the big roof of the dining hall without having to fight another one of those creatures. In the deep shadows where the moonlight didn’t reach, she felt relatively safe. Though as she picked her way between two dragons that were only eight feet long, Shasta spotted a problem with her plan. This room was filled with the youngest dragons, ones that still needed shelter. If she set off some sort of diversion in the kitchen, there was a good chance these little ones would be hurt, or the evil creatures would hurt them. That was something she wasn’t willing to live with.

  Shasta opened the door to the kitchen and slipped inside. She leaned against it, listening intently. Nothing, not even the sound of deep breathing. The room was empty. She vanished her sword and stretched her hand. She needed to keep it from seizing up. She was going to have a lot more quality time with her sword before the night was over.

  She padded her way over to the sink, turned on the water, and drank directly from the stream coming out of the faucet. When she finished, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. Even if she couldn’t use this room, there had to be supplies she could use to make a diversion somewhere else. Of course, she had to find those supplies before she could use them. To do that, she needed light. If memory served, there weren’t many windows in the kitchen. Deciding it was worth the risk, she patted the wall near the door until she found a row of light switches. She closed her eyes, flipped one, and opened her eyes. Only about a third of the lights came on, dimly lighting the kitchen.

  As soon as her eyes adjusted, she scanned the area again. There were two windows on the back wall, but she’d have to risk it. The first thing she spotted was a giant can that, according to the label, had once held six pounds of peaches. It was upside down on the drainboard, the lid removed. She picked it up and turned it over, the metal cold in her hands. There was an even line where the lid had been removed and the inside had been scrubbed clean. If she could find the right supplies, she could turn this into a bomb.

  She tucked it under her arm and started searching through drawers. Most held utensils, but near the floor she pulled open a drawer that was filled with cloths for drying hands, drying pots, and even aprons. Flammable, but they wouldn’t explode.

  Her brain latched on to that last word. Explode. Across the room, the other side had big tables set up with cutting boards and knives, and there was a set of double doors. She crossed over, pulled them open, and stepped into the pantry with a grin. Pantries, even ones that primarily supplied dragons, had certain staples. Stacked on the bottom shelf were big bags of flour. That was something she could work with.

  She muscled a fifty-pound bag of flour on her shoulder, weaved her way through the kitchen, and set the flour and can filled with cloth by the back door. She went back for another bag of flour and as many cloths as she could pile in her arms in one go. After depositing them next to her previous finds, she surveyed her haul. It was a good start, but she was missing at least two important things.

  Snatching up the can, she crossed back over to the set of drawers she’d ransacked before. Shasta skipped the ones she knew held nothing but utensils and started opening the next set. The first drawer held only spoons. She tugged open the second one. Jackpot. Shasta retrieved a big roll of aluminum foil and ripped off a piece she could use to cover the can. She just needed some type of lighter. Now, if she were a lighter or matches in a giant kitchen that catered to dragons, where would she live?

  As she turned, her eyes landed on the fireplace and spit. Sure enough, there was a box of matches sitting on a shelf between the two. She shoved it into her pocket with a triumphant smile.

  Shasta went back over to the light switches and mapped out a path between there and the door across the room. When she was sure she had it firmly in her mind, she flipped off the light switch and started working her way across the room. She bumped a table with her hip, but luckily nothing fell and the rest of the trip was uneventful. She eased open the back door and poked her head out. Apparently this wasn’t a popular area for the dragons to sleep, because all she could see and hear were the brownies’ cars and the chirp of crickets.

  Satisfied that this was as good as it was going to get, she hefted one of the bags of flour onto her shoulder and scooped up as many of the cloths as she could in her other arm. She carried them more than three hundred feet from the building, just to be on the safe side, then set down the bag of flour and piled the cloth about four feet away. The nearest dragons were on the other side of the kitchen and should be safe enough from the blast. Since the creatures hadn’t shown any interest in the sleeping dragons, there was a good chance they’d be left alone even after the explosion.

  After scanning the area to see if any of the creatures were around, Shasta went back to the kitchen for the second bag of flour and the can covered in aluminum foil. She even managed to close the door behind her. Now, at least not from the outside, there was no clear evidence that she’d been in the kitchen.

  She plopped the bag of flour next to the first one and got to work. First she opened both bags and dumped all the flour into one big pile. She set the bags themselves to the side and turned her attention to the can. Shasta took the foil off the open end, filled the can about two-thirds of the way with flour, and tightly crimped the aluminum foil over the top. She carried it over to the pile of cloth.

  The next part was a little tricky. She knelt down, squeezed the can where the aluminum foil overlapped the metal, and held her breath as she carefully rotated the can until it was sitting with the aluminum foil side down on the ground. She blew out a sigh when she finished. The foi
l hadn’t ripped, and the can was in the perfect spot.

  She retrieved the paper bags the flour had been in and crumpled them into two loose balls, nestling them around the can. Then she piled all the cloth on top, keeping the can of flour in the center. She tugged the box of matches out of her pocket. She lowered her shield and mentally reached outside herself. “All right, I need some help. Air, keep the fire small. Hold the flour in place. On my command, fuel the fire and blow the flour into it. Can you do that?”

  The wind tickled the little hairs at the back of her neck, and Shasta felt a heavy sheet of air settle over the flour.

  “Thank you.” Shasta crouched down next to the pile of cloth and paper. She pulled out a match, took a deep breath, then raked it across the box. It flared to life. She scooted the dish towels around until there was a hole, then set them against the paper.

  She glanced around. She was still alone. The flames flared up, happily burning the paper. Shasta crept around to the other side and repeated the process. It took only a moment for the flour bag to catch flame. She tossed the box of matches on top the pile of dish towels.

  “Can you start now? Can you complete the tasks I’ve asked of you?” Shasta whispered.

  The wind twirled around her without flaring up the fire or shifting so much as a single particle of flour.

  “You have my thanks.” Shasta bowed her head. Then she resummoned her sword, turned, and headed back to the gathering place. She covered ground quickly until she reached the first dragon. Then she hunkered down. She didn’t see any of the creatures nearby, but there was definitely a commotion in the center of the gathering area. It was difficult to see over all the dragons, but from time to time she could see movement and hear voices, though not nearly enough to determine how many of the creatures remained.

  What she could see was a sizable, roughly dragon-shaped thing on a trailer and a lot of activity. So to mount an effective assault, she moved to the side. As it was, she was in the path the creatures were most likely to take to get to her diversion. While there were fewer dragons between her and the center of the gathering area if she went to the left, there was also less cover, so she was going to the right. With a mental promise that she’d apologize for using them as cover once the monster was dead, she crouched down and darted between two big dragons.

  It felt like hours crawled by as she worked her way fifty feet to the right and another twenty feet closer to the gathering area. Objectively, she knew only a few moments had passed. Hunkering down in the shadow of the large dragon, Shasta took a deep breath. “Now.”

  Wind brushed against her face.

  Shasta twisted her wrist, dismissing her sword, and held her hands over her ears. Internally she counted the seconds. Five, four, three, two. A wall of fire shot up, and a sharp crack cut through the air. She poked her head up in time to see a herd of the creatures galloping toward the flames.

  She settled back down and grinned. It was working.

  She shifted her eyes back to the center of the gathering area. A shadowy figure moved near the dragon on the trailer, and another shadow moved at the other end of the trailer. There were at least two people left and quite likely more. She couldn’t help but look back at the flames. It wouldn’t be long before the second part of the distraction exploded, and she needed to be in position to take advantage of that moment. She reluctantly uncovered her ears, summoned her sword, and resumed creeping forward.

  As she eased around a dragon, she reminded herself that she couldn’t let the explosion startle her too much. She needed to attack while everyone else was distracted. Of course, that was a lot easier to think now before it happened and after she was half-deaf from the blast.

  She hunkered down two dragons back from the center of the gathering area. Not only was there a dragon strapped to the trailer but in the dim light it looked like Branstan. Heavy chains were holding him down. She’d known it was a bad idea to leave him out there by himself. From the look of the collar around his neck, they were a slightly larger version of the ones used on Matilda. On the bright side, she knew how to undo those chains, though it wasn’t quick, and she wasn’t sure how much good it would do anyway. There was a limpness to his form that made her think he wasn’t awake.

  A shadow moved near his head, more upright than the others. That was probably Mr. Evil and should be her target as soon as the explosion happened. Moonlight shone off a hunched creature near him, with hints of equally contorted figures in either side. That would bring the direct bodyguard up to three.

  However, she suspected there were others. Shasta unfocused her eyes, letting her take in the scene and register movement rather than actively searching for them. There, almost directly across from her, a shape wiggled through an area that had been occupied by a moonbeam. She kept tabs on that one as she hunted for others. There was another creature a bit behind the first. She was able to search out a third, which was to her right. Based on where they were positioned, there should be at least two more to make up the security perimeter.

  Movement out of the corner of her eye made her freeze. She sat there, still as could be, hardly breathing, as one of the creatures, wingless and walking on all fours, paced along the other side of the dragon she was hiding behind. It paused, hardly ten feet from her, tipped its head up, and sniffed the air.

  Shasta held her breath, sure this was it. She was going to be discovered, and all her planning would be for nothing. The creature sniffed a second time, shrugged, and continued on. When it was a good thirty feet away, she sank back down behind the dragon and slowly took a deep breath. She’d gotten this far—all she needed now was for the explosion to happen, draw away some of the guards, and then she would go kill Mr. Evil. Simple, right? Only that explosion should’ve happened by now.

  She cracked open her shields just enough to communicate with the elements. Focusing on the air, she gave it a mental push. Explosion?

  A tiny breeze whipped through her, making her shiver. Yes.

  Shasta set her sword on the ground in front of her and her hands over her ears. Three, two, one.

  Nothing.

  Had something gone wrong?

  A fireball shot up into the air. Hardly a breath later, the boom rocked through her, pushing her back against the dragon. Instead of the distant night sounds, her ears filled with a faint ringing. She took her hands away, but it didn’t make any difference. This was going to make things more difficult.

  It didn’t matter. Hearing or not, she had to do this. She was the only one in a position to save the dragons, and she wasn’t going to let them down.

  She grabbed her sword, shot to her feet, and charged forward. Mr. Evil and his guards were out of sight, but another pack of the creatures was headed toward the explosion. Hopefully that took care of the perimeter guards and anyone else who’d been loitering around. Since she couldn’t see Mr. Evil, she headed for Branstan.

  The wind pushed against her. She pivoted, sword coming up, but she wasn’t fast enough. The creature smashed into her with the force of a charging bull. She felt as much as heard two of her ribs crack and the breath whoosh out of her lungs. She went flying through the air. This hadn’t been part of the plan.

  She landed on her side, her vision darkening after the impact. It started to clear but only in time for her to see the beast running at her again. She tried to suck in a desperate breath of air. A sharp pain blossomed across her side. Her arms and legs felt heavy and uncooperative as she tried to lift her sword. She wasn’t going to make it to her feet in time to defend herself. She had to think of something else.

  The air wall from earlier. Something like that could stop the creature, though she’d never been able to project one out from her before. She pictured it in her mind, a mix of a magical shield and air thick enough to prevent something from passing through. “Please.” She wheezed.

  The construct solidified into a vertical wall two feet away from her a fraction of a second before the creature barreled into it. It hit at an angle, str
iking the side of its face and along its shoulder. The creature tottered back a few steps, sat on its haunches, and shook his head. That seemed to make it worse because it swayed and lay down, resting its misshapen head across its paws.

  Shasta rolled to her good side and slowly got to her feet, keeping the wall of air between them. She clutched her sword in her right hand and poked her rib cage with her left. She clenched her teeth and suppressed a hiss as pain radiated from the ribs on her left side.

  After a quick look around to ensure nothing else was about to attack her, she focused inwardly. “Heal,” she whispered, pushing magic toward the spell. It responded sluggishly, first holding her ribs in place and then rushing through two weeks of healing. They were far from as strong as they had been, but they weren’t in danger of breaking off and puncturing a lung anymore. It would have to do.

  She turned her attention to the injured creature. It hadn’t moved since it had lain down. Keeping the shield wall between them, she lifted her sword and edged closer. The creature continued not to move. Even its chest was still rather than rising and falling as it breathed. While the jaw and claws were draconic, the rest of it was more human than dragon, though with a distorted skeleton that had turned it into a quadruped.

  Shasta carefully reached through the hard wall of air and placed her fingers against the creature’s neck. Nothing. It was dead. Perhaps later she would mourn for the person who could’ve had a much different life, but not tonight.

  She pulled the magic remaining in the air wall back in herself. It was time to move on. She had a job to do. She turned her back on the creature and headed toward Branstan. As she walked, the pressure in her ears built. She swallowed hard and yawned. With a painful pop, her ears cleared. She could hear the chirp of crickets, the wind moving across the earth, and footsteps not far from where she was standing.

  She froze, too far away from Branstan’s trailer to be able to hide under it and much too far from the last line of dragons be able to hide behind one of them. Hopefully the creature would be too worried about the explosions to notice her, but considering she was standing in an otherwise empty section of the field, she rather doubted she was going to be that lucky.