by R. K. Thorne
Andius froze, eyes flicking back and widening when he realized what she held. “You were the one who stole it,” he shouted, playacting as if he’d just figured it out. “Never. I’ll never submit to a charlatan.”
He’s not going to give up, Yeska growled.
Pour on the energy. Tell Nyalin. Tell him it’s time to cross over and get out of there. Really far out of here.
For a moment, there was only silence and the crowd’s confusion at her lack of response. And then—thank the Twins—a glimmer by his eyes.
By the time they glowed white hot, the crowd roared. But that was quiet compared to the tumult a few moments later when he vanished completely.
Instantly, he reappeared a dozen paces away on his stomach. He quickly scrambled to his feet. A red line of blood streaked across the skin of his neck. She poured healing spells at him with as much energy as she dared.
Andius staggered forward, rounding on them both. “You—you—”
“I believe the term you’re looking for is clan leader,” she whispered, quiet enough so that few in the crowds could hear. People had leapt to their feet and were quieting others to hear their words.
“You’ll never be clan leader.” He spat at her feet, fire raging in his eyes.
“Who is it again that holds the clanblade?”
“Not you.”
She cocked her head as she glanced to the dagger in her hand then back to him. “It appears that I am.”
“Not for long.” He lunged at her.
She easily danced back and away, out of reach. “It wasn’t my idea to keep it, but I will admit I’m growing fond of it.”
Louder gasps and murmurs went up all around the stadium, then dulled again.
Da’s eyes were on her, but she couldn’t risk a moment to look, to read his expression. Andius might try to take the dagger the moment her attention wavered.
It would not waver. Not until they were safe.
The beat of leathery wings sounded somewhere close. She’d promised him she’d have a backup plan.
“How dare you defy our tradition, the council, this very Contest! How dare you wield the sacred blade, woman.” He looked around him as he spoke, raised his arms, beckoning the crowd to support him.
The rising shouts and murmurs said it was working.
“You’re not worthy of the dagger or the clan,” she hissed back. He continued to lunge closer, then back away. She circled toward Nyalin, not taking her eyes off Andius. “You don’t even believe the dragon is real. Well, she is. You’ve lied and cheated and bought your way to favor. You tried to kill Nyalin and me only yesterday, all in hopes of finding this blade. I hid it from you to save myself, sure. But I also did it for all of us. You don’t deserve to lead the clan. You don’t deserve to even be one of us.”
“Lies. All lies! Try to throw your shame on me, but who should they believe? You? The thief? The liar? The one who has broken our ways? Who took the blade without even taking part in the Contests—”
“No one would let me!”
A familiar growl vibrated the air and filled her ears, and she didn’t think it was just in her mind this time.
Fear gripped the crowd, silencing it again.
Andius continued, oblivious. “None of this is an excuse to steal the clanblade. It belongs to me.” He reached for it, and she sliced at his palm, stopping him even though she missed. He scowled at her.
The noise around her rose at that, emboldened. She risked a glance, and indeed, the crowd had pressed forward, some officials only a few paces away. Frightened faces mixed with enraged ones, dashed with confusion and alarm. Sympathy too.
Something hard hit her hand.
Her fingers lost their grip, but she lunged forward, trying to throw her body between the dagger and whatever had knocked it from her grasp.
Her body collided with Andius.
The two of them went down in the sand, scrambling after the blade, shoving, and kicking.
Then Nyalin was on him, pulling Andius away from her.
Andius lashed out, aiming for Nyalin’s head and throat, and then kicked at her. His foot caught her in the jaw and sent a wave of stars through her eyes and gasps through the crowd.
Her head knocked back, and she hit the sand. Stars covered her vision, and the world spun, but she kept groping in the dirt—it had to be here, it couldn’t be far, he couldn’t have gotten it that easily—
Her fingers brushed rough bone and curled.
Even in her dazed state, she gripped it hard and rolled away from him. She staggered to her feet with little grace, swaying.
Now she was just as dirty and dust-covered as they always said. But she’d never felt so much like she belonged. Her lip was bleeding, but she was fighting for herself, her dragon—her people, even. They deserved better than this greedy, selfish idiot.
Nyalin had held his attention briefly, but Andius realized she’d recovered. He whirled on her and roared. Eyes flashing, he charged her, and she was hardly sure what he even planned to do. She put both hands on the bone handle, planted her feet, and braced herself.
But there was no need.
A bellow answered Andius’s roar. A much, much louder bellow thundering out from behind her, keening something ancient and inhuman, dripping with magic. Hot wind and dust blew past her like a fool opening a door during a sandstorm.
The shouts fell away. Only whispers flitted here and there as the arena went silent. Andius, too, froze, staring about thirty feet into the air behind her head.
Nyalin’s eyes were wide. His hands dropped from his defensive position as he stepped back.
Lara knew what they saw.
Daughter. I am here. Let not this unworthy one trouble you.
What do I do, Yeska? She glanced around her, searching for some solution. Did her voice sound as panicked and small as it felt? Her head spun. I’ve made a real mess of things.
No. This mess was already here. You were born into it.
I still have to deal with it. And I can’t find a way to clean it up.
There are not always easy ways to solve hard problems. This mess was not made in a day and won’t be fixed in one. You know what you must do.
She could take a moment now, stare around her. Nearly everyone had fallen silent, eyes wide, children pointing, people clutching each other. She backed slowly toward Yeska. Some seemed to think she didn’t know the dragon was behind her and waved and pointed in warning.
She caught Da’s eyes. He didn’t look angry, at least not yet. Now he only looked… stunned.
You wanted my help, said Yeska. Now take it.
If I do, there will be no going back.
There never was. Climb my back. Bring your mate.
She swallowed. He’s not my—
I saw that kiss. Those kisses.
She winced. Can’t a clan leader get a little privacy?
If she asks a dragon nicely.
Lara swallowed, uncertain. Where would they go? How would they live?
We shall figure it out. Bring your… friend, and let us be gone from these fools.
This is your clan, great Bone Dragon.
If that is the case, they will learn to respect me and my choice. And you as their leader. Now come. I found some berries I’d like to show you.
She stood frozen a second longer. But what else was there to do? Yeska was right.
She met Da’s gaze. Some of the shock had faded, and now his eyes held only curiosity as to what she would do. The lack of anger or judgment or betrayal eased her last hesitation.
She nodded slightly. He nodded back.
She caught Nyalin’s eye. “C’mon.” She nudged with her head toward the dragon, all the while keeping the blade trained on Andius.
“What?” Andius whispered. “What do you think you’re doing?”
As Nyalin reached her side, they both turned and ran.
Her massive, craggy scales bristled, but the dragon took a knee and extended her wing, lowering her back for th
em to scramble up the bony plates like a ladder.
Climbing up was a blur. The murmurs rose up again, alongside Andius’s scream of rage.
“You can’t do this! You can’t—goddesses curse you!”
“Bring that back!” shouted someone from the stands.
“Thief!”
“But the dragon is—”
“Get her! Stop her!”
But even as the people rushed onto the sand of the arena, Yeska took a great leap into the air. Her mighty wings flapped once, the powerful gust staggering those who had rushed forward, and with a second mighty blast she was well above the arena. A few more, and she was in the sky.
Lara clung to the bone spike in front of her, her body wedged between one spiny bit of the back ridge and the next. Nyalin clung to the one behind her—and to her. One hand rested lightly on her hip.
She returned the clanblade to her pouch. She was going to need an actual scabbard or something. Too bad she hadn’t thought to steal all the accoutrements to wear it in public.
Yes. Yes! This is how you should think.
About stealing?
Yeska only laughed, both in her mind and in a low rumbling growl that vibrated her body beneath them.
“Are you all right?” she called back to Nyalin, turning.
He was clutching the ridge spike before him as he gave a weak shake of his head. His face looked pale—a little blue.
Goddesses above. That damn spell still had a hold—how had she forgotten?
She poked and prodded at the awful blackness. Yeska. Any ideas?
It’s a necromantic curse. Very similar to a spell. Touch of Death is similar to a healing spell, and this curse is similar to Touch of Death but more targeted. Masterful.
How nice for us. Done by the darkness you mentioned?
Yes.
What does Touch of Death do?
Makes the living appear dead temporarily, freezing them in time. It is like a curse but not exactly one. Usually the spell is applied to the whole body.
Lara tightened her grip as most of her mind focused on the curse. That might be just enough to piece together how the thing worked. Could she untwist, unfocus the thing like a spell in reverse?
She tried. It twitched and twisted but went back to the same.
Gritting her teeth, she groped for the charms in Nyalin’s pocket. Now between the two of them they only had one set—maybe. But there were second level healing spells. Could it be that simple, when combined with what she’d learned from Pyaris’s book? Curse breaking demanded absolute concentration, or one could acquire the spell—the primary difference between spells and curses. Curses had a mind of their own and didn’t like to die.
Of course, a dragon’s back midflight wasn’t the best place for this, but she didn’t have much choice in the matter. They were barely out of the city. If Yeska stopped, it put them at risk that pursuers would follow. And she had no idea how long it would take her to break the curse.
She had to do it and do it now. If she caught the curse from him, so be it. It would be fairer for her to die than him since she’d started all this. She tightened her arms into a bear hug around the spike and hoped that would be enough as she reached out and began.
The Dagger’s energy flowed through the charm, spinning into raw life-giving power. She funneled it at the curse as she would a wound, forgetting her body, the wind around her, everything but the energy flowing through the world at her command.
Nyalin heaving in a deep breath was the sweetest sound she’d ever heard. But it was accompanied by a sickening falling sensation.
“Oh, thank the—Lara!”
Her fingers groped at the spine. But it was too far already. She only caught air. She was sliding now, and the wind was disorienting. She groped again, at another spine, at anything—
Yeska banked to the side. The dragon’s body shoved her up into the air, and suddenly hands caught her groping ones, hauling her up. She found the spine once again and clung to it like a drenched cat returned to dry land. Nyalin patted her hard on her shoulder, busy heaving in breaths himself probably.
No taking a nap now. Yeska almost seemed to be smiling as she glanced back over her shoulder at them as she flew. Look at you, little curse breaker.
One learns something new every day, it seems.
You will do great things, daughter.
Thank you. I hope you’re right.
She eased up enough to take a deep breath, glance back at the city, and caught Nyalin’s smile over her shoulder as his face leaned against the dragon spine.
That chased the rest of the tension away, and she grinned into the wind. They were high up now, but she didn’t dare look down. Clouds floated past them and grew denser ahead. Sun beat down on her skin, but not enough, as the chilled air raised goosebumps down her arms.
“Where are we going?” he coughed.
To my home. By the way he jumped, Yeska must have spoken into both their minds.
She turned back to him. “I didn’t know what else to do. They were going to kill you!”
“I’m glad you broke the rules.”
“None of their rules made sense. None of them.”
“Obviously. Who’s the one riding away on a dragon?” He laughed. “I think it’ll be a long time before I tire of watching you get angry. Such lovely rage, it’s refreshing.”
“What if I’m angry at you?”
“Well, I hope you’re not. I’ll be wrong, most likely. But you’ll still be lovely.”
She whipped back around, her cheeks hot. The dragon’s words flashed through her mind again. Mate. Well-matched souls. That day so long ago at the graveyard. “We have some things to figure out, don’t we?”
She was tiring of yelling, and she wasn’t sure he’d heard that bit over the rush of the wind. But a moment later he shouted, “What’s new?”
She chuckled, her tension draining away. Her laughter and her stress were carried off by the icy wind, lost, forgotten, and inconsequential for now.
She rode away from everything she’d ever known, ever loved. Beneath the joy lurked fear. But one thing was certain: she was trapped no longer.
Afterword
Thanks for reading Dagger of Bone. I hope you had as much fun reading it as much as I did writing it. If you have a moment, consider leaving a review. Reviews help others like you discover books they may love for themselves. I love hearing from readers and appreciate your honest feedback!
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Acknowledgments
Special thanks to Hilary Meuer and Steve Martinez for blessing this book with their beta reading. Or at least tolerating my typos. And much gratitude to Terrance Mayes for the wonderful map and the brainstorming and fun that went into that part of the worldbuilding!
About the Author
R. K. Thorne is an independent fantasy and science fiction author fueled by addiction to notebooks, role-playing games, coffee, and imperial stouts. She has read speculative fiction since before she was probably much too young to be doing so and encourages you to do the same.
She lives in the green hills of Pennsylvania with her family and two gray cats that may or may not pull her chariot in their spare time.
For more information:
rkthorne.com
Also by R. K. Thorne
The Enslaved Chronicles
Mage Slave
Mage Strike
Star Mage
Auda
city Saga
The Empress Capsule
Capital Games
Untitled Book 3 (Coming 2019)
Clanblades Series
Dagger of Bone