by Audrey Faye
Dragon Kin
Lily & Oceana
Shae Geary
Audrey Faye
Fireweed Publishing
Copyright
Copyright © 2017 Shae Geary & Audrey Faye
www.audreyfayewrites.com
Contents
Prologue
I. A Calling
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Interlude
II. Water & Fire
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Interlude
III. Voices from Afar
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Thank You
Prologue
Lovissa shook her head, trying to chase off the vestiges of dream, and heard a small squeak just left of her head.
She ignored it. The newest of her retinue was a timid young thing, but she did very well at keeping the furs and pillows of Lovissa’s nest exactly as she preferred them. Regina would be embarrassed enough at her squeaks, and might well remove herself from the ranks of those who served the queen if Lovissa were to notice.
Instead, she stretched her short front legs out and let an arch ripple down her spine, coaxing old, tired muscles into alertness. Her dreams had been restless. No visions, and she knew herself to be growing impatient with their absence.
It would take five to save dragonkind, and only one had come. Surely the Dragon Star would not make them wait too long for the next.
Lovissa harrumphed and pushed to her feet, dragging herself the short distance to the cave opening. It was arrogance itself to presume she knew the intentions of any star, and surely one who hung in the skies for time eternal had learned more patience than any dragon queen.
She breathed in the air of a morning that held far too much promise of spring. Already, Baraken reported snowmelt in the lower passes. It would not be much longer before the elves poured through, seeking vengeance. The dragons had won the last battle of fall, and that would not have sat well around their clan hearths in the winter. It would be the most foolish elves who came through the passes first—those who did not yet know enough to value the skin on their feet and the wisdom of their elders. But foolish elves could be just as dangerous as wiser ones, especially if the new arrow fletchings had also spread from hearth to hearth.
The fletchings had taken down Eleret.
Dragonkillers.
Lovissa knew she wasn’t the only one who smelled the coming of spring. Early though it was, Baraken had already gathered the young dragons down below. The newest in the warrior ranks, and those most likely to be foolish. Wisely, he was giving them far too much to do to be imagining flights of solo glory through the northern passes.
Lovissa let her nostrils huff her amusement. The last dragon to take such a flight had been Baraken himself. It was good that he was keeping those who would seek to be foolish heroes busy. They would lose dragons in the battles of spring, of that she was sure, but she preferred to lose them only when absolutely necessary. Let the elves freeze the skin off their feet. Her dragons would stay warm and dry and practice the tactics that would keep them alive.
She winced as two youngsters diving sharply off a low ledge crashed into each other instead of the ground. Baraken was working on landings, the kind a dragon with a dozen arrows in their wings might need to make. The kind that might drop them safely under the next flight of arrows—or land them at an angle where their fire could wreak vengeance.
Especially if foolish elves trapped themselves in narrow mountain passes.
Lovissa sighed. Her appetite for battle had been larger once. Too many dragons were dead, and her dreams were no longer haunted only by their ghosts. She saw, far too often for her comfort, the ones who would come. The brave dragons who no longer needed to be warriors—and the ones who rode on their backs.
Mortal enemies become kin.
She had tossed and turned all winter over such memories. And kept them to herself. The elves who would be in the passes come snowmelt did not seek a dragon to ride. They sought a dragon to kill. She would not make it easy for them.
Lovissa huffed out another breath into the early morning light and lifted her wings. She had never flown skies filled with dragonkiller arrows, but in her day, she had been the finest single-wing flyer in the Veld. She would go help Baraken train the youngsters.
And perhaps keep them alive a little longer.
Part I
A Calling
Chapter 1
Lily craned her neck and sighed as the road reached the top of the latest rolling hill. Still no sign of River’s Bend, and if the town didn’t show up soon, she was going to die of dust inhalation. She glared at Alonia. “Why did your cousin have to decide to marry a farmer, anyhow?”
Alonia just snorted and rolled her eyes. “We have a whole week away from chores and lessons, and you’re complaining?”
“Yes, she is.” Kellen grinned, skipping over the top of the hill like it was nothing. “I think we’ll be there soon.”
Kellen had been saying that since the crack of dawn, and it was almost lunchtime. Lily eyed the dusty road ahead and the smaller tracks joining it from the left. That was a good sign. Most roads converged on a town eventually, so the more of them that joined together, the better the chances that they weren’t horribly lost.
And a town called River’s Bend better have something other than dust to welcome them.
“Here.” Sapphire held out a canteen, amused sympathy in her eyes. “Pour a little water on your face and get happier or you’ll scare all the wedding guests away.”
Even Lily had to grin at that. “If Lotus were here, that could have been her job.”
Sapphire didn’t say anything—she just took the canteen back and quietly capped it.
Missing her dragon. Lily felt bad for saying anything, but she’d wanted her friend to know that she wasn’t the only one thinking about a certain peach-pink menace. One who had been left safely behind under Afran and Kis’s watchful eyes, because taking a teenage dragon to the biggest wedding in ten midwinters would have been the absolute height of folly.
It was going to be a huge occasion. Four days of parties and ceremonies and all the food they could eat. Alonia’s cousin was marrying a really rich farmer.
The food part sounded the best. Inga’s cooking was fine, but it was good, solid peasant fare. Lily’s clan had been full of spice merchants and traders, and even if she’d been a lowly orphan, the scraps that landed on her plate had still tasted of stories and excitement and lands far away.
Inga would probably fall over if anyone tried to add exotic spices to her stews. Or Inga could quit, which would be even worse. Peasant food was infinitely better than food Lily had to cook for herself. She patted the last of the breakfast roll she’d tucked into her tunic. Kellen had packed their journey food, but they were down to nuts and berries and a few squirreled-away leftovers, and a rich farmer’s wedding was going to put those to shame.
Lily sped up on her way down the hill. It couldn’t be that much further.
Kellen joined her, matching her short legs to Lily’s longer strides. “You must be hungry.”
Lily didn’t bother answering—or looking back for the other two. Alonia had probably stopped to pick flowers for her hair again.
She wanted to look pretty when they arrived, just in case her cousin had any cute, eligible male relatives. Which was going to be the biggest headache of the next four days. “How do you suppose we keep Alonia from running off with the first elf who kisses her and promises to make her happy?”
Kellen grinned. “We don’t.”
“Karis expects us to keep her out of trouble.” And woe to the elf who ignored their teacher when she spoke in that particular tone of voice.
“Karis knows exactly who Alonia is, and if she wanted us to keep her away from boys, she would have sent Irin along.” Kellen seemed totally unconcerned that they might head back to the dragon kin village without their curvy, dreamy friend. “She’ll come back because she wants a dragon.”
Lily snorted. “As much as she wants a boy?”
“I think so,” Kellen said quietly.
Lily wasn’t nearly so certain, but any thoughts she had on that subject were interrupted as they arrived at the crest of the next hill. The view over this one was of far more than dust, a deeply welcome vista of neatly tilled fields with green crops and stone fences and comfortable cottages stretching as far as the eye could see. Her eyes widened as she spied a much larger house than the others.
“That’s one of the manors,” Alonia said cheerfully, weaving tiny yellow flowers into her hair. “Not one of the really rich ones, though. Those are closer to town.”
Sapphire scanned the view. “Where are your clan lands?”
Alonia waved a vague hand. “Out the other side of town and into the forest. But don’t worry, we won’t be going there.”
Lily rolled her eyes. They already knew that. Not enough boys. Most of Alonia’s clan would be in River’s Bend anyway, ready to celebrate and eat a rich farmer’s food for four days. A rich human farmer. Which was just weird. Most elf clans stayed well away from human habitation. Trade was one thing. Chasing eligible boys without elf ears was a totally different matter, even if they were cute.
Sapphire eyed a dark strip of trees over to the left. “Maybe we can camp in the forest.”
That would make Lily happier, but she was very sure Alonia wouldn’t be on board with that plan. Especially since their fearless leader was already headed down the hill at the fastest pace she’d set for the whole journey, shaking her head. “No. My sister’s letter said they would have a whole city of tents set up for the wedding guests, with bedding and free food and hair ribbons and everything.”
Lily didn’t bother arguing—there was no way they were going to win out against hair ribbons. She kept her eyes on the forest, though. It seemed like a lot of trees. Human farmers usually cut down every tree they could to clear more farmland. “Why is the forest so big?”
“Because of the floods.” Alonia was nearly running, speaking around short, puffy breaths. “The river gets wild in the spring. It didn’t used to, but then one year back when my great-grandmother was a girl, it flooded almost the whole valley, and a lot of the really nice manor houses got ruined.”
Rivers didn’t do that for no reason. “Why did the river change?”
Alonia shrugged and pulled an apple out of her tunic. “The farmers say there’s a demon in the mountains. One of the really old elves in my clan said an incredibly big pile of stones fell and blocked one of the other arms of the river, so now all the snowmelt comes down this one.”
The farmers were foolish to believe there was a demon, especially if there was a really big pile of rocks upriver somewhere. “We could camp by the river. It’s not spring.”
Alonia took a fierce bite of her apple. “I’m camping in the field with everyone else who’s coming to this wedding, and you’re sharing my tent, so stop arguing.”
Lily had rolled up in a blanket to sleep more times than she could count, but someone had to keep Alonia from making all the boys trip over their own two feet for the next four days. Most men, even the not-so-young ones, took one look at her ample curves and rosy cheeks and golden curls and promptly forgot how to walk in a straight line.
Alonia stopped suddenly, and Kellen nearly ran into her back. Then they were all staring down at the new vista that had opened up in front of them—and this time, it was more than hills and farmland. The town of River’s Bend in all its majesty, stretched out in a wide, haphazard circle. Lily could see at least four roads leading to two gates with sentries in what looked like red uniforms, although they were far enough away that it was hard to tell. Maybe red was just a popular color here. Shacks and small buildings made up the town proper, but around them, streaming in every direction, was a forest of tents of every shape and color. Some were sleeping tents, ranging from small ones to ones large enough to hold an entire village. Some were flimsy awnings covering a table of market fare. Lily hoped some of those were the promised food. The last bites of two-day-old meat pie in her tunic suddenly sounded very unappetizing.
She looked over at Alonia, who was practically glowing—and hadn’t moved her feet since she’d spied the town. “Come on, silly. If you stand here gaping all day, all the tents will be full.”
“I don’t need a tent.” Alonia skipped down the road arm in arm with Kellen. “I just need a place to change my dress and a sweet boy to bring me something cool to drink.”
Lily ignored the last part—there were no boys in sight yet. She eyed Alonia’s simple dress, made of the same fabric as her tunic and leggings. “What’s wrong with your dress?”
“Nothing, if I were feeding dragons or carrying firewood.”
Dragons didn’t care what people looked like. Irin said so, and his face was living proof. “You’re supposed to save your best dress for the wedding.”
Alonia skipped backwards, giggling. “You think I only brought one?”
Lily looked at Kellen with a raised eyebrow.
Kellen just laughed and willingly skipped in circles with Alonia. “I only brought one, but I’m not looking for a boy. I’m waiting for a dragon.”
Kellen had been waiting longer than anyone. It made Lily’s heart hurt sometimes. She wanted a dragon too, but she didn’t expect one to pick her. She didn’t like fire—too hot and prickly—and they all knew it. She was the misfit of the dragon kin village. Which was fine with her—it was a lot better than being a clan orphan, even in a clan with really good food.
“She’s not sad today,” Sapphire said quietly, her eyes on their smaller friend. “We shouldn’t be sad either. She’s not going to find a dragon at a wedding, so we should help her find all the other good things.”
Keep Kellen distracted until a dragon finally got smart and picked her. That was a plan Lily could get behind. “Fine. I’ll do that. You get a good, strong piece of rope and tie Alonia to a tree somewhere so that we can find her when it’s time to go home again.”
Sapphire laughed. “She’d just get rescued by six handsome boys.”
Not if the tree was deep enough in the forest, but Alonia probably wouldn’t cooperate with that plan. Lily sighed and adjusted the straps of the rucksack on her shoulders.
It was going to be a long four days.
Chapter 2
Lily turned sideways, squeezing between tightly pressed dancers who didn’t seem to care who they squished. An errant sleeve caught on the swirls of her burnished copper armband, and she barely resisted the urge to stab its owner with the matching copper branches of her headpiece. She’d somehow let Alonia talk her into wearing her clan festive wear for the first night of dancing. Which was reasonable—many of the elves she could see had done the same, but most of their clans didn’t adorn themselves in headwear designed to mimic a crown of branches.
She loved the elegant bands of copper wrapping her head, and Alonia had braided it on tightly enough that she could probably go swimming with it, but it had been attracting attention all night. Or her dress was. She wasn’t the only elf there with bare shoulders, but clearly farmers tended to keep themselves more covered up.
Which was foolish. It was hot, even this late in the day, and most of the farm g
irls had gone from having rosy cheeks to seriously sweaty ones.
Lily kept squeezing between dancers. She finally got to the edge of the packed field and took a deep breath of air that didn’t smell like sweaty farmer. The sun was just tucking down into the horizon, beginning to paint its oranges and reds across the western sky. Bedtime for the daylight, but not for those gathered for the wedding. The revelry would go on for hours yet.
They’d eaten under the bright sun of the late afternoon and then the music had started, and the dancing. First the small children, pulling people up to dance with them, and then the ones of an age to find themselves a partner for the night—or longer. The groom’s human kin had been eyeing the elves in attendance with avid curiosity, which had expanded Alonia’s suitors exponentially and tempted Lily to go into early hiding. She wasn’t the only one. Sapphire was probably up a tree by now, and Kellen was small enough that she could pretend to be a child when she wanted to.
Lily ducked into the first, beckoning trees, and let the cooler air brush her cheeks. The river lay this way, and her skin and throat were begging for water.
She slowed her walk, moving off anything that looked like an obvious trail and melting into the shadows of some of the taller trees. She had no interest in advertising her presence.
She’d never been a friendly elf.