Dragonlands, Books 1 - 3: Hidden, Hunted, and Retribution

by Megg Jensen

  “No,” Fi said. “We are simply larger than any of the other dragon hordes. Far older, too. It is said we were the first. We will be the last.”

  Tressa marveled at how organized they were. In spite of having hidden underground for many years, convincing the rest of the Dragonlands they were extinct, these dragons were quite skilled. Groups flew in formations, practicing maneuvers that defied death. The riders held on with nothing more than their gloved hands, appearing as one with the dragons.

  “We won’t be that good,” Tressa said. “Maybe you should say your final goodbyes to Sarah.”

  “Don’t go morbid on me, Tressa! Those are the elite guard. Do you think Sophia would have called them to action for a simple diplomatic meeting with the Yellow? If Jacinda’s son knew about them, then they might prepare differently for battle. Right now all they know is that we’re a small group of Black dragons led by an old woman. Who’s afraid of that? No one.”

  Tressa found her great-grandmother sitting on a throne next to the magnificent Black dragon Mestifito. She stroked his head and cooed into his ear.

  “What does he look like as a human?” Tressa asked Fi.

  “Who? Mestifito? He can’t change anymore. At least no one has seen him change in a very long time. Some believe he prefers his dragon form. Others think he lost his ability to change.”

  “What do you believe?”

  Fi took a deep breath. “I believe he lost his humanity when he was separated from Sophia. We all know the story—how he found her in the woods. How they pledged their love, but she returned to her village. Their love is a great one. It defied boundaries. It is a love story to be sung for all eternity.”

  Tressa felt a pang in her heart. Her whole life she had been the focus of Granna’s love and attention. Each was all the other had. Now they were together again, but so far apart. Tressa ached for the woman she knew growing up. Maybe if they both survived the war, they could find their way back again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A scout flew in, pulling up alongside Granna and Mestifito. They had been flying for days, and finally the horde of Black dragons landed in a grassy field just south of the Hills of Flame. Riders dismounted their dragons. Dragons turned into human form. The riders stretched and the fliers rested, sharing the food and water carried by three dragons in the rear.

  This would be their last stop before descending on the Red in Malum.

  "Destrian is there. Our scouts have confirmed his arrival just last night." The rider said, his dragon lay on the ground, breathing heavily. "We flew as fast and as hard as we could."

  "Get him some water," Granna shouted.

  The rider bowed, then took off in search of a bucket of water for his dragon.

  "Why doesn't he change back into a human?" Tressa asked Granna.

  "He's pushed himself too far. It's better for him to recover in dragon form. The human body is too frail." Granna walked away and laid a hand on Mestifito's head. He purred like an overgrown cat and nuzzled into her.

  "How much longer until we take off again?" Tressa asked Fi, who was lying on the grass, twirling her hair with a finger.

  Fi shrugged. "Whenever Mestifito decides. If he's ready to fight, then we follow."

  Tressa reclined next to her. Clouds danced in the sky while birds darted through them. There were many layers to the world. Nature lived together in harmony, dealing with the ebb and flow of life. Why couldn’t the dragons do the same?

  "Because it's in the dragon's nature to fight," Fi said, answering Tressa's thoughts.

  "Whoa." Tressa sat up. "How did you do that?"

  "When we fly together, our thoughts become linked. Haven't you noticed I always know exactly what you want me to do when you're on my back?" Fi laughed.

  "I thought that was because I was digging my heels into your side," Tressa said. "Like that horse I rode once. Doesn't it work the same way?"

  "Oh, Tressa." Fi rolled over on her stomach, her chin in her hands. "A horse isn't much bigger than you. He can feel it when you kick him. Me? I'm huge when I'm in dragon form. Your heels in my sides are about as painful as a light breeze on a summer day."

  "Okay. Maybe you can hear me somehow while we're flying. But why can't I hear you?" Tressa stared at Fi, challenging her to prove it.

  A small noise buzzed around Tressa's head. She swatted the air, expecting to find a mosquito. Instead the noise only increased until the buzzing became words.

  Hellooooooo. Anybody in there?

  "Nice," Tressa said. "That's all you could think to say?"

  Fi laughed, kicking her feet in the air. "I'm tired. Don't expect too much."

  "So how come I can hear you now? I'm not riding you. You're not a dragon," Tressa asked.

  "I don't know the answer to that question. Some can. Some can't. Sophia and Mestifito seem to speak without words all the time. Maybe it's based on trust. No one really knows."

  "Interesting," Tressa said. "We've become friends so fast and been through so much in the short time we've known each other. It doesn't surprise me we've gotten close quickly." She glanced down at Fi, who had rolled onto her back again and was staring at the sky with her mouth open.

  What is it? Tressa asked, trying out the new skill.

  Fi's hand trembled as one finger lifted toward the sky. Then she jumped up, screaming, "Attack! Attack!"

  Tressa's eyes darted to the sky. A moment ago all she'd seen was peace. Now the sky stormed with Red dragons. Talons glinted in the sunlight. Mouths dripped with sharp teeth. Tressa's heart raced. She scrambled to put on her armor and helmet. Fi had already changed into a dragon. Tressa leapt onto Fi’s back, drawing her sword.

  It wasn't where they’d wanted to fight. It wasn't how they’d wanted to begin battle. It was too soon. But none of that mattered. The Black horde burst into the sky, ready and willing to fight until every enemy was vanquished.

  Fi darted in and out of the fray as Tressa slashed her sword at their attackers. Her steel met with dragon flesh, quickly becoming stained with their blood. Fi's anger bubbled in the back of Tressa's mind. It was distracting, pulling Tressa out of battle and into Fi's worries.

  She steeled herself and stopped paying attention to her dear friend. Just as the day she fought on Connor's back to kill Stacia, Tressa needed every ounce of concentration she could muster. Tressa's back stiffened, ready to face whatever fate had in store for her that day.

  The Black horde screeched through the sky, flying faster and nimbler than the Red horde. Dragons clashed. Talons grabbed hold of limbs, tearing skin. Blood fell from the clouds like rain.

  Fi darted to the left and Tressa hung on with all of her might. A maroon dragon fell from above, careening past them to the ground with a loud thump, one wing broken and folded under itself. Tressa didn't stop to see if it moved. Didn't matter. The dragon couldn't fly now.

  Then it hit her. They didn't need to kill the dragons. They only needed to maim as many wings as they could. She shared her idea with Fi, whose head bobbed in agreement.

  Fi weaved in and out of the fray as Tressa sliced at the wings of the Red dragons. One by one, the other Black dragons saw what they were doing and joined in.

  A screech rang out behind them. Fi banked sharply to the left. Before Tressa could grip her scales, she slipped off Fi's back and fell through the air.

  Fi! she screamed, her arms flailing.

  Where are you? Fi yelled.

  Before Tressa could respond, she landed with a thump. Her stomach sank to her feet as the dragon underneath her ascended. A tap on her shoulder forced her to turn around. A man grinned, a sword in his hand.

  Tressa looked down. Sunlight bathed the dragon, illuminating its red scales.

  "Gods!" she screamed, reaching for her sword. This was not part of the plan.

  She gripped the dragon with her thighs, balancing with her core while swinging with all her might at the warrior behind her. He ducked, surprised at her quick attack and slid off the dragon, falling just as Tres
sa had—only no one caught him. His body landed on the ground with a thud. The dragon screamed, whipping its head around, snapping at Tressa, teeth dripping with saliva. She scooted up closer to the neck. The dragon couldn't reach her, coming too close to biting itself. Its neck snapped forward, and it tried a new tactic, gyrating back and forth with its whole body and erratically flapping its wings.

  Tressa managed to sheath her sword and hung on as tightly as she could with both arms. Her muscles were quickly tiring. She wouldn't be able to hang on for long. The dragon was infinitely more powerful than she was. They both knew it.

  Fi! she screamed again in her head.

  I can't get to you. The Red army has blocked us. No one can get to you, Tressa. You're on your own. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.

  Fear bubbled in Tressa's chest. Wind whipped at her face, scratching with clawed gusts. Tears streamed down her cheeks. This was it. She'd tire out long before the dragon. Soon she'd be joining the dead man on the ground, her fate tied to his for eternity.

  Her nails dug into the scales. But the dragon’s momentum tore a nail from her finger, causing searing pain unlike anything she'd ever felt. She fumbled, her hands grasping for anything, but her muscles unable to comply. Tressa flopped backward, only the grip of her legs keeping her from death.

  With one more calculated snap of the dragon's torso, Tressa's legs finally lost their grasp. The dragon tossed her into the open air. Her arms and legs splayed wide as she fell. There was no one to save her this time. No warrior. No dragon. Nothing.

  She closed her eyes, waiting for the ground to break her back. An image of Jarrett flashed in her mind. He traced her cheekbone with his thumb and his lips fell on hers. Her friends. Bastian. Connor. The people of Hutton’s Bridge she’d fought so hard to save. It couldn’t end like this. Not now!

  Tressa gasped. "No!" she screamed, letting the word stretch on forever.

  Until her arms and legs jerked. Her body ripped in two. Fire shot out her mouth. She soared in the sky, waiting for the ground to kill her...until she realized the ground wasn't coming any closer. Her arms and legs had changed. She whipped her neck around, and realizing she was no longer human. She was like the others in the sky.

  A dragon!

  Going on instinct, Tressa flapped her wings, the wind bending to her will. She rose higher and higher, coming up behind the dragons that believed she'd fallen to her death. She opened her mouth, reached inside herself for the anger she felt toward these Red dragons, and let loose a blast of fire, roasting the backsides of every dragon within her reach.

  Confusion reigned. Screaming, the dragons spun around to attack Tressa. She flew higher until she was above all of them, then darted as quickly as possible to her own Black horde. The dragons clashed again underneath her, the Black fighting with a renewed vigor.

  Tressa flew to the back of her horde. Exhausted. Exhilarated. A million feelings swept over her.

  Now she understood why everyone who could change into a dragon had issues with controlling their temper. Nothing could match the power coursing through her veins. She didn't want to change back into a human. Never.

  Until Jarrett's face flashed into her memory again. Her heart tore in two. One half wanting forever to be a dragon. The other half wanting forever to remain human with him.

  She shook her long neck. Not now. There was a battle to be fought.

  Tressa reared back, screaming at the sun. The day would be hers and so would the victory. She flew into the battle, slashing with her claws and whipping her tail. Red dragons screamed in agony, but they couldn't compete with Tressa's newly born bloodlust.

  Her talons gutted the Red. Her teeth bit into their scales and snapped their necks. Her fire burned their eyes, blinding them.

  Tressa was the bringer of death, and quickly they knew it. The Red turned tail, fleeing back north. This time the Black did not retire to the ground. They gave chase, letting the Red know they would not win. Not today. Not ever. The Black pursued with fire and claws and swords. Their human riders screamed obscenities.

  They gave chase until every last Red was dead, littering the ground like leaves after a storm.

  Mestifito took the lead, flying north until they found a meadow large enough for all of their dragons to land. Tressa coasted to the ground, landing on her feet. Her talons scraped at the grass. She closed her eyes, let out a breath, and collapsed.

  A cloak spread over her body. Her eyes fluttered open. She was human again. And naked. But she did not care. Her blood ran with fire now.

  "Well, wasn't that something?" Fi said, prancing around Tressa like an excited pony.

  "It was unexpected," Granna said, standing next to Tressa, tapping her toe. "You could have gotten yourself killed."

  "I almost did," Tressa said, sitting up. "If I hadn't changed into a dragon, I'd be dead back there with the rest of them."

  "And I think Tressa's fighting spirit gave us all the boost we needed," Fi said, defending her. "We might have been the dead ones if she hadn't found it within herself to change."

  "And now that you have," Granna said, "you will be flying right back to the Ruins and going into seclusion until you have mastered what it means to be a dragon and what it means to join the Black horde. We do not take our dragon forms lightly.”

  "Neither do I," Tressa said. "But there is a war to be fought. I have friends to find. Once I've done all that, I'll go underground and meditate or whatever it is you want. But I will not be herded like a child when I can be of use here."

  Granna stared at her, turned on one heel, and stalked away.

  "She still thinks of me as a child," Tressa grumbled.

  "You are nothing like a child," Fi said. "She just worries about you."

  "You're always defending her," Tressa said, pouting. "I thought you were my friend."

  "Sophia is the queen. She speaks for Mestifito. Questioning her isn't wise."

  Tressa snorted, feeling a slight burning sensation in her nose. Curious.

  "I can fly back to the battlefield and find someone your size. You'll be needing clothes, since you so carelessly ripped yours." Fi winked. “Don’t worry, you’ll learn soon enough how to change your clothes while turning into a dragon.”

  "Thanks," Tressa said, blushing.

  "Lie down." Fi patted her on the shoulder. "You can get dressed when you wake up."

  Tressa nodded and nestled into the cloak. Soon she drifted off to sleep, visions of dragonfire dancing in her mind.

  Chapter Twenty

  Bastian held Elinor in his arms as she sobbed. The wounds Jarrett had given her had closed on their own within moments. Bastian wanted to ask her how, but all that mattered at the moment was that she was okay. Dragon bodies lay all around. Limbs carpeted the floor, mingling with fresh blood. Connor clung to the only remaining dragon.

  “Where did Jarrett go?” Bastian demanded.

  "I'll kill him. I swear if I ever see Jarrett again, I will rip his arms from his body," Connor said. "I will shove his legs up his arse and feed him his own heart. I will pluck his eyeballs from their sockets and—”

  "That's enough," Elinor shouted. She pulled away from Bastian. Her wounds were gone, but blood stained her gown. "I have no idea what happened here. Jarrett was supposed to be our friend. Did the island do something to him? Or was he always like this?" She whirled around, glaring at Bastian. “He’s your old girlfriend’s new lover. Can we trust any of them? Can I even trust you?” Elinor inched away from Bastian, scooting closer to Connor and the baby dragon.

  “Elinor,” Bastian said, holding out a hand. “Come on. You know I had nothing to do with this.”

  She spat on the ground at his feet. “I regret the day I volunteered to be the one to heal you. I thought you had some grand destiny. Otherwise, why would I have done what I did for you?” Elinor kicked at Bastian when he reached for her.

  Connor wrapped an arm around Elinor, pulling her to him. “Let’s not judge so hastily.” Connor looked at them with sad eyes
. "We managed to save one. I do not know if it was the egg I made with Stacia, but it doesn't matter. This is my child, and I will name her Vatra. She is now Fotia's sister."

  The tiny dragon hobbled off of Connor's lap. One back leg was shorter than the other and her head bobbed to the side.

  "She might be yours, Connor," Elinor said, calming down. She peeled a piece of speckled blue shell off the dragon’s leg. "If this shard came from her egg, then she is indeed yours. This shard matches your egg, the one we saw when we were in the cave near the Snake River. But she's not fully developed. I think it was too early for her to hatch." She reached out, patting the little dragon on the head.

  "It doesn't matter. I will love her the same," Connor stood. "Now what? How do we get off this island? Do either of you know how to sail?"

  Bastian looked to Elinor. She shook her head.

  "You told me it was easy," Bastian said to her.

  She shrugged. "I wanted you to believe in yourself. I know nothing about sailing."

  "Then there's only one way," Connor said. "We fly out."

  "Jarrett said the Keepers hate dragons. Horrible things happen to dragons on this island.” Elinor choked back a new round of tears. “Anyone who could do this to poor, defenseless babies..."

  "She's right, Connor," Bastian said. "We can't let them kill you too. I won't risk it."

  "We need to get out of here," Connor said. "There's no other way. Either we fly or we die."

  Elinor rubbed her temples. "Fine. But we walk to the shore. Then you change and fly us out as fast as you can." She reached down, picking up little Vatra and cradling the dragon in her arms. Vatra cooed and licked Elinor's face. "She's just as sweet as Fotia."

  "We should bury the bodies first," Bastian said, his eyes sweeping over the mess. "We can't leave this slaughter here."

  Connor took a deep breath. "We have to. There isn't time. If we want to escape with our lives, we need to leave now. As much as it kills me to leave them here like this, we can't risk taking the time, especially since we don't have so much as a shovel. It would take too long to dig the graves with our bare hands."