I, Dragon Series Bundle. Books 1-3: The Epic Journeys of Simon Morgenwraithe

by Nathan Roden

  Simon waited outside the cave. He would let Boone sleep a while longer. Simon heard a rustle in the brush. He looked down and saw a mother rabbit, with three of her young, hop past his talons. He sighed.

  Not only was the euphoria of his transformation over, but the feeling he dreaded the most made its presence known.

  He was hungry.

  Hunger was not new to Simon. He had spent most of his life hungry. By his choice.

  There was nothing under the sun that Simon could not capture or kill and devour.

  Perhaps, he thought, almost every day of his life—perhaps, if I had never been a boy or a man, I would be a natural killer. If I had been born a dragon, killing might not bother me in the least.

  But it did bother him.

  “Good evening,” Boone said from behind Simon. “Ah, ah, ah! Don’t turn around. I’m coming.”

  Boone walked in front of Simon the dragon.

  “Well, here we are again,” he sighed.

  Simon turned his head and sighed as well. A small burst of flame lit the sky, followed by a trail of black smoke.

  Boone laughed.

  “I may be your only friend, yet I’ll never be able to surprise you. I would become a little pile of ash.”

  “I’m able to control it, for the most part,” Simon said, sadly. “I’m still working on it.”

  Boone held his arm in front of him and pinched his flesh between his thumb and finger.

  “It can take a lot to kill a man. But not when it comes to fire. We can take precious little of that.”

  “And that is why the dragon has been the most feared creature on earth,” Simon said. “The wings and scales, the tail and the jaws, are only decorations compared to the flame.”

  Simon sat down, shaking the trunks of the trees.

  “And that is why it makes the most excellent curse. It is also why the dragons have all but disappeared from the land.”

  “I remember the last dragon—the one they kept alive,” Boone said. “Papa took us to see it. He was drunk. I’ll not say how he behaved that day. It was embarrassing.”

  Simon shook his head and snorted.

  “Kept it alive? I was too young to see it, but I heard the tales from the servants. They left the poor creature bound in chains. The people tormented him. They threw stones at him. The children spit upon him. They starved him to the point that he could make no fire. Do you know what happens to the dragon at that point, Boone?”

  “No. I only saw it that once, from a distance. I was only a child, but I knew it was not well.”

  “A dragon with an empty belly is no threat to anyone. Without food, the dragon’s belly becomes his greatest enemy. His fire stays within him. The dragon burns—from the inside.”

  “That is truly awful,” Boone said. His face showed pain.

  “How did you learn these things?”

  “Some of it, I heard from my father’s soldiers. And some, I’m learning for myself.”

  “I heard the dragon’s teeth fell out,” Boone said.

  Simon nodded.

  “It’s another sign of the empty belly. The dragon dies slowly, and his greatest strength becomes his greatest enemy.”

  “You need to keep this reality in mind, Simon,” Boone said. “What if something happens to me? What if the hunting parties begin to lay in wait for you? You must become a hunter. You are a dragon. You may not like it, but you have little choice.”

  Simon turned away and breathed harmless fire into the sky.

  “The day that it does not trouble me to take innocent life, is the day I give up my birthright—forever.”

  “We need to know what Sterling plans to do about the discovery of the dead guards,” Boone said. “Who knows what Magdalena will tell him?”

  “I do not profess to know,” Simon said. “That is why I planned to take her—to determine where her loyalties lie.”

  “Sterling will do everything in his power to learn what happened,” Boone said.

  “I hope that he does,” Simon said. “In fact, I hope that he pushes her far enough that she snaps his neck.”

  “I will make every excuse I can to go into the village,” Boone said. “Though I doubt that my father will allow it. It is almost time for the harvest, such as it is. I’m old enough now to get into the pubs. I’ve only been into the village a few times, with my mother. The only thing I ever heard there was women’s gossip.”

  “And we both know men can gossip just as well as the women!” Simon laughed.

  “Bite your tongue, Good Sir!” Boone laughed. “Do not dare to speak our secrets aloud! Remember your vows!”

  “Consider it done,” Simon said. “Forgive me, Minister of the Confidence of Men!”

  “We should go,” Boone said. “It is late, but we should still stay far away from the village.”

  “Aye,” Simon said. He pushed himself to his feet.

  “Wait! Shh!”

  Boone held up a hand. He pulled his dagger from his side and threw it. A large jackrabbit fell over, dead.

  “I cannot go home in the middle of the night empty-handed,” Boone said. “What excuse would I give?”

  Simon stared at the rabbit as it twitched its last.

  “Will it always bother you, My King?”

  “Yes,” Simon said. He looked away.

  “Were I only a man, I would exist upon carrots and cabbages. But this body will not allow that. Already, the hunger cries out from deep in my belly. I will have to kill before another moon rises.”

  “Taking back the throne will require much bloodshed, Simon,” Boone said. “You must prepare for it. A seconds pity may cost a man his life. And an elk or a deer cannot look you in the eye and ask you ‘why?’ or cry out for its mother—”

  “Stop it!” Simon roared.

  “It will do you no service to withhold the truth, Simon,” Boone said. “If something is not done, and soon, you may have no choice but to die in that body. Magdalena disappeared from her privy—she has magic—but she is also flesh and blood. She is twice your age, and will not live forever. The sorceress is not as despised as you are, but she has enemies. Her heart will not suffer a sword, the same as anyone.”

  Simon raised his head and snorted another blast of fire.

  “It is difficult to hear, but it is the truth,” Simon said.

  “That’s a pretty big rabbit,” Boone said.

  Simon laughed.

  “You’re a good man, Boone Blankenship. Bag your rabbit and let’s be off.”

  Twelve

  “All hail, King Lucien!” came the voice of the crier.

  “Hail, King Lucien!” answered the members of the Royal Council and the members of the King’s Guard.

  Lady Magdalena mouthed the words as well.

  The Council gathered to question Magdalena about the night that Simon Morgenwraithe invaded her home and killed two members of the King’s Guard.

  “It has been quite some time since the Dragon has been seen in his human form,” Lord Sterling said. He paced before the throne, holding his ever-present chalice. He stopped and stared at Magdalena.

  “What does he look like?”

  Magdalena saw Lucien slide to the front of the throne.

  The King’s obsession with his older brother remains sharp. Smart boy, Magdalena thought.

  “He is tall with dark, wavy hair. He is lean and very fit; an imposing figure—and devilishly handsome,” Magdalena said.

  The Council of Men whispered to one another. Some laughed.

  “Silence!” Sterling said. “Do not toy with me, Sorceress. We seek a useful description of the Man-Beast—not your opinion of his ability to turn a woman’s mind into porridge!”

  Magdalena cleared her throat.

  “He looks…like a King.”

  The murmuring grew louder.

  “What did you say?” Sterling growled.

  “I am sorry, My Lord. I misspoke,” Magdalena said. “I meant to say, he looks like The King. His brother. Only tal
ler…and…”

  “And what?” Sterling spat.

  “Taller. And…larger.”

  The murmuring began again. Sterling spun on his heels.

  “I will clear this room if you do not stop this incessant chatter! You gossip like a bunch of old spinsters!”

  Everyone in the room fell silent.

  “What did he say?” Sterling continued.

  “As I have already told you, he demanded that I heal the other boy,” Magdalena said. “He said if the boy died, then so would I.”

  “He had to have said more than that!” Sterling said. “Your curse has ruled every minute of his existence. I should imagine he had very much more to say to you!”

  “No. He leveled a sword at my neck, and he made threats. That is all—”

  “I don’t believe you. What are you hiding from us, Sorceress?” Sterling sneered.

  Magdalena stood.

  “If you wish to supply the answers to your own questions, then I am not needed here.”

  “I am not finished questioning you,” Sterling said. “Sit down.”

  Magdalena remained standing.

  Sterling was outraged.

  “I said—!”

  “I know exactly what you said, Lord Sterling,” Magdalena said. “Perhaps you did not understand my reply! You could ask one of these others here to repeat it for you, but they would be too afraid! In fact, I am the only person in this village who does not fear you whatsoever!”

  The room was silent. The men held their breath.

  “What more can you do to me?” Magdalena asked. “You had your way with me. You ignored my daughter—your, daughter. You stood by and allowed your own brother to take her when she was still a child. The mad queen forced me to curse one Morgenwraithe—but I have been cursed by every last one of you!”

  Sterling grabbed Magdalena’s arm. His face was red, and he shook with anger.

  “Hold your tongue, Witch! Or I will cut it out and shove it down your throat!”

  Sterling jumped back and screamed. His shirt was on fire. Several men helped to put it out.

  “Your threats are empty, Lord Sterling,” Magdalena spat angrily. “I do not fear death—I may even welcome it! But the question that remains—which no one knows the answer to—is…

  “If I die, what will become of the dear, sweet Simon Morgenwraithe?”

  Magdalena’s eyes searched the others in the room.

  “What say you, Counsel to the King? What will become of the curse in the event of my death? What will happen to the rightful King of the Realm? Nothing? Or will the curse dissolve?”

  Everyone looked to Lucien, who now sat against the back of his throne. He looked afraid. He looked ill.

  “Ask yourselves, gentlemen, what would happen if the curse no longer existed?”

  Magdalena was enjoying herself immensely.

  “What if the people became unified behind the rightful King—and demanded he take the throne? Twelve years is a very long time for the new king of the land to plot his revenge against those who have opposed him—”

  “That will be all!” Sterling stormed across the floor. “This inquisition is over! Everyone out!”

  Sterling watched the last member of the Royal Council leave. Only the Captain of the Guard, two knights, and Lucien remained.

  A boy, a very young member of the army, slipped inside the door. He was clearly in a hurry. He was sweating, and nervous.

  Sterling got the Captain’s attention and motioned him to the corner of the room. The young soldier joined them.

  Sterling raised his brow.

  “On the night of the full moon, two men were struck on the back of the head, taking them out of the hunt,” the young soldier whispered. “Neither of them knows who was responsible.”

  “What else?” Sterling asked.

  The soldier glanced toward the King. The King paid them no attention.

  “Two other men say a man—a boy, rather—who was a member of the hunting party—has not been seen since.”

  “Where does this boy live?” Sterling asked.

  The soldier swallowed.

  “We are attempting to discover that as we speak, My Lord.”

  Sterling and the Captain exchanged a look.

  “Good,” Sterling said. He waved his hand.

  “Go. And say nothing to anyone.”

  “Yes, My Lord. No, My Lord.”

  The soldier hurried away.

  Thirteen

  “There!” Boone yelled into the wind. “My house is in that clearing ahead!”

  Simon skimmed the treetops and landed at the edge of the woods.

  “That was incredible!” Boone exclaimed. He stretched his arms and his back.

  “It is by far the best part,” Simon said. “Don’t get used to it.”

  “I suppose it’s an entirely different experience when you’re dodging arrows,” Boone said.

  “And having every foul name under the sun screamed at you at the same time doesn’t do much for one’s self-esteem,” Simon said.

  “I’ll try to kill a boar, or maybe a deer—if you want to come by tonight,” Boone said. “If I get one, I’ll leave it right here.”

  “Thank you, Boone. Be well.”

  Simon shot into the night sky and disappeared over the trees.

  Boone braced himself and turned toward home. He hoped that his father would be more interested in a roasted rabbit than spilling his rage on his only remaining child.

  Simon flew to his nearest cave sanctuary. He slept fitfully, and woke late the next morning. The deep rumbling of his empty stomach greeted him.

  Simon left the cave and walked to the edge of the cliff that looked down upon a grassy meadow. With his keen eyes, he saw a herd of deer feeding in the field.

  He sighed and looked into the sky. It was too late in the day to seek a hunting party from which he might steal a kill.

  “For me to live—the innocent must die. And I wish to lead my people? How many more innocents will die before my heart turns to stone?”

  Simon spread his wings. He looked down on the herd and tried to see only food, and not life.

  “I’m sorry,” he said as he launched himself from the cliff. He circled the meadow to give himself the broadest expanse of the clearing to give chase. Simon had no hunting abilities in the thick woods. He flew toward the herd at top speed. The deer saw the shadow that alerted them to the dragon’s presence. They turned and ran.

  A doe and her two young fawns struggled to keep pace with the panicked herd. The leader veered to the north, but the doe and fawns continued toward the woods that lay due east. Simon closed in on them.

  Simon readied himself. He closed his eyes and inhaled. When he opened his eyes, the doe had stopped and turned. She stared up at him. The fawns pressed themselves against their mother’s hips. Simon looked into the doe’s eyes—

  He pulled up, and away.

  Simon continued to climb. He glared into the sun and refused to blink. He forced himself higher—higher than he had ever flown.

  Can I fly high enough to touch the sun? The thought went through his mind.

  Can I fly high enough to turn these scales to ash—to end this pointless existence?

  Tears streamed from Simon’s eyes. He felt no guilt, and no shame. In that moment, Simon did not care about anything.

  The air grew thin and cold. Simon bore down though he found it hard to breathe.

  I beg for the heat of the sun to destroy me, yet I am driven back by the cold, Simon thought as he beat the thin air with his wings for the last time.

  He closed his eyes and turned his head toward the earth.

  I fail again, even at taking my own life. Perhaps the sorceress saved the Kingdom after all. How could I possibly lead an entire people?

  Simon tucked in his wings and plummeted toward the earth. The thought passed through his mind that he could plunge into the rock face of the mountains. Or, with a slight change of course, he could exhaust his breath and
pierce the depths of the ocean.

  But he knew he would do neither.

  Simon flew low across the meadow. The deer were gone. No birds sang in the trees, and there was no sign of even the smallest woodland creature. Every living thing feared the hunger of the dragon.

  “If they only knew,” the dragon said to the emptiness.

  The sun was low in the western sky when Simon turned toward Boone’s home. His low flight over the forest took a great deal of effort. His belly screamed at him, an early warning. Simon was weak and his wings were heavy.

  Please, he thought. Please, my friend. Let there be food at the edge of these woods.

  But as Simon neared the Blankenship’s farm, he smelled the fire before he saw it. Black smoke rose above the forest. Simon topped a hill and saw a horrific scene—Boone’s home was on fire. Worse than that, Simon heard his friend’s screams.

  “Help!”

  Three members of the King’s Guard drove their horses hard as they chased Boone along the tree-line. Boone was on foot. Two of the knights held their swords over their heads. The other attempted to line up a shot with his bow.

  The smoke burned Simon’s eyes. His vision was failing. His belly was relentless in its torture. His belly—his powerful furnace—was not designed to operate while empty.

  “It’s the dragon!” one of the knights cried out.

  “Simon!” Boone yelled.

  Simon dove toward his friend. An arrow whizzed by his head. Knights surrounded him on both sides. Boone would soon be forced into the forest—and Simon could not help him there.

  Simon knew he had no choice, and little time. One blast of fire might be all that he could make.