by Lucas, Naomi
To Wake a Dragon
Venys Needs Men
Naomi Lucas
Contents
Blurb
Verys - Land of the Comet Map
1. Haime Finds a Cave
2. Drazak’s Dream
3. Milaye in the Dark
4. Drazak’s Furor
5. A Big, Dead Dragon
6. Bonded
7. Drazak Succumbs
8. Trapped
9. Drazak and the Invader
10. Receding Darkness
11. Will He See Me?
12. Nothing Left but Embers
13. Alpha’s Claim
14. I’ll Never Leave
15. The Way Out
16. Drazak’s New World
17. Not as Planned
18. Drazak’s Nightmare
19. Fighting Fire
20. To Wake A Dragon
21. Home
Epilogue
To Wake a Dragon
Author’s Note
Dark Hysteria
Also by Naomi Lucas
Copyright © 2020 by Naomi Lucas
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without permission in writing from the author.
Any references to names, places, locales, and events are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, or events is purely coincidental.
Cover Art by Naomi Lucas and Cameron Kamenicky
Edited by Mandi B. (www.mandisediting.wordpress.com), and LY (www.lypublishing.com)
Created with Vellum
Blurb
It’s been eight years since the red comet flew across our skies. Eight years since the blood moon. No dragon has been seen or heard from since.
Until now.
As one of the guardians of my tribe, I’m known as Milaye, a Protector of the Mermaid Coast. I’ve never had the honor of consideration as a future matriarch or a match for one of the rare males born near the Forbidden Jungle. I’ve kept my wishes hidden—despite my envy for my fellow tribemates who are happily mated.
I’ve lost hope for such a life long ago.
But one day, my ward flees into a long lost cave deep beneath the jungle brush. A cave, I soon realize, that holds a long-dead giant monster.
A dragon.
But he isn’t really dead after all…
1
Haime Finds a Cave
“Haime! Don’t climb so high!” I yell.
I watch as my little ward claws her way up a jungle tree. She is seven seasons now, and I can scarcely believe how much time has flown by. It’s been two years since she’s been mine to train. Someday she will be a great huntress, and I’ve been honored with the duty to lead her down that path.
“It’s all right, Auntie Milly. This tree is no match for me!” she shouts.
Indeed, it’s no match for her. Haime is part-dragon. Part-dragon because her father, Zaeyr, turned into a human male during the red comet and mated with my clan-sister, Aida. Haime is the oldest of their four children, the eldest to a sister and two brothers. Together they’ve become the ruling family of Sand’s Hunters—what with Zaeyr’s might and Aida’s gift to bear strong sons.
But only Haime has been given to me to train. Her sister, Edenth, just turned five seasons and already prefers healing and caretaking more than hunting and exploring. Edenth will apprentice with another.
Which is okay—because Haime is a handful. I adore her though, maybe even because of it. She’s like the daughter I have always wanted.
Since Aida gave her to me to train, Haime’s filled a void in my heart. And I know why Aida gave her to me. She knows I love Haime dearly and would do all in my power to protect her, to train her into the fierce huntress she is destined to be.
I will never have a baby of my own. There are no males left for me. And…
Frowning, pushing away the thoughts that threaten to distract me, I follow Haime’s shadow. She’s moving through the leaves and up toward a higher branch. She and I are within the northern jungle, where the cliffs and lagoons of the south turn to long patches of giant plants and sand dunes. The trees aren’t as thick here, but it’s because the soil is drier. The jungle is also not as dark, nor as vibrantly green.
It’s easier to track prey here.
The northern jungle eventually meets the middle plains of Venys, and the soil only gets drier from there. Other tribes rule those lands with their own laws, and unless necessary, we don’t venture there.
But still, the north is a good place to train the young huntresses and not only because it’s easier to track. Smaller creatures roam here, and I don’t have to worry about ambushes from gorillas or jungle cats. Besides the occasional dune worm, cockatrice, or crocodile, there is not much to worry about.
And the sky is visible at all times, unlike the southern terra of the jungle, where the trees are thick and vines web throughout the canopy. The sky is often hidden because of the foliage. Knowing where the sun lies helps with telling time, and knowing the time helps with managing younglings.
“Haime, come down this instant!” I shout. “We must head back.”
“I’m almost to the top,” she cries. “I’m strong, remember? I will not fall.”
Strong? Sure. But Haime’s a child, and even with her dragon blood, she does not have the power of an adult, not yet.
“Oh!” she gasps.
Nervously, I debate going after her. “Oh? What do you see?”
“You were right, Auntie Milly! There’s a storm coming in from the ocean.”
A boom of thunder sounds the air, clamoring as if provoked.
Great. I roll my eyes. “I told you I heard thunder. Now get down here so we can make it back to the tribe in time.”
Haime lands in front of me, startling me backward. She jumped from the top of the tree. My eyes widen in horror. The little imp grins upon seeing my expression—and I know it looks horrified, for I feel the horror all over.
I clutch her to me. “You could’ve hurt yourself,” I shout, peering up at the tree. So tall. “Oh, waters, little dragon, don’t ever do that again!”
Haime embraces me back. “I’m strong.”
“It doesn’t matter!” I pull back to cup her cheeks. “What would your parents think if I bring you back to the tribe with broken legs?” Simply imagining it sends a gruesome shiver down my spine.
“I would never do that to you, Auntie Milly.”
Pressing her closer to me, despite knowing she’s safe, my heart still pounds ferociously. “You’d better not. I couldn’t live with myself after. I could not live knowing I had failed you and your parents. You may not be of my blood, but you are still mine, Haime.”
Haime rests her little head on my chest and hums. It calms me. Her humming always calms me. Several minutes pass before I’m settled enough to let her go. Not even a pack of territorial apes could’ve forced me to release her sooner. She is the closest I will have to a child of my own.
But that is a pain I refuse to wallow in anymore. It’s been eight years since new males have joined my tribe, and both were mated to other, younger women: Aida and her sister, Delina. And since I was four years older than Aida, I would never be considered as a mate for a new male. But that wasn’t the case eight years ago… Dragon males bonded with the one who turns them human.
Only one human male came to us eight years ago—from Shell Rock. Leith. The elders paired him with Delina.
The other two were dragon males, and they do not abide by the law of the elders.
Zaeyr, was once a great and ancient water dragon that ruled the waters of the Mermaid Gulf. The cursed red comet
flew through the sky then, bringing out a mating heat in beasts across the land. Because of that heat, Zaeyr rose from the waters and bonded with Aida through an accident—and maybe fate—on the sands below the tribe.
When she touched him to protect our tribe, he lost his immortality and became human. Well, mostly human. Zaeyr still has scales, a tail, strange eyes, and claws. His children, like Haime, inherited many of his dragon features.
The other dragon male, Kaos, mated with a female from our neighbor tribe.
Their appearance renewed hope amongst the females of Sand’s Hunters, and with that hope, many left the safety of our tribe to hunt down a dragon of their own. Myself included.
I hold in my breath thinking of that time. Like my clan-sisters, I never found a dragon of my own, and as the red comet faded from the sky, hope faded too. And so my search for a male quickly turned into rescue missions, searching for sisters who did not return. Some are still missing to this day, and recalling that time leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
We gained and lost so much.
Haime’s humming returns, and I know she perceives my sadness. I force a smile to my lips. “Shall we make our way home?” I ask her. “I can’t imagine you’d like to make camp out here during a rainstorm? There will be no fire to sit by and warm your scales.”
She gives me a face. “No! Let’s go. I want Aunt Delina’s spicy fish.”
“Promise you won’t climb any more trees?”
“I promise,” she whines.
I hand back her spear, shortened for her height. “Good. I’ll let you lead, and I’ll take point at your back.” Excitement brightens Haime’s face when I tell her this.
“Really?”
“Remember to watch out for quicksand pits, tracks, and spiderwebs,” I remind her, putting my hands on her shoulders and turning her around.
Haime grasps her spear in both hands, stepping away. “Yes, yes!” She looks at me over her shoulder. “I will get us home safely, Auntie Milly.”
My smile grows. “I know you will. Listen to the trees and the sounds of the jungle. And no running!” I yell, but she’s already skipping away. “Don’t forget to check above for snakes and cats!”
My ears ring with her laughter as she vanishes into the brush. Glancing once more at the tree, I expel the last of my worry and take off after her.
We walk for a while, and I point out tracks and plants as we go. Though we’re trying to make good time, I can’t pass up a teaching opportunity. Under my instruction, Haime forages the Lulia Moss we come across. It makes an excellent tea. I also show her an old cockatrice nest we stumble upon, the mother and chicks having long departed. Haime takes a cracked egg and stores it in her satchel to show her sister later.
The darkening sky doesn’t deter us… yet. Neither do the squawking birds that rise from the trees and fly inland, nor the ever-increasing thunder. Scanning the jungle, it comforts me to find thick tangles of vines. I know these trees like I know my ability to take down the prey that resides within them.
“Milly,” Haime calls as she steps over a log. “How close do you think we are from home?”
“Why don’t you guess?”
“I can’t tell when we’re in the jungle! Can’t we head to the shore?”
“No. I told you that the crocodiles are breeding—” A low hissing sound cuts me off. “Haime, don’t move!”
She stops, turning to me.
I hold my finger to my lips and her little eyes go wide. The hissing gets louder, as I shift my spear to my right hand and slowly pull the dagger from my belt. Haime takes a step toward me as I quietly move to her side. She gently sets down her satchel and brandishes her smaller spear.
“It’s a naga,” I tell her. Nagas roam the Forbidden Jungle and are perilous when cornered. They’re worse if they have eggs nearby, for then they set up defenses to protect themselves and their nesting grounds. But this wasn’t a nesting ground. I’m sure of it. I only hear one hiss amongst the foliage.
“Not a snake?” Haime whispers.
“Listen to the inflection. It’s deep, raspy. Snakes don’t sound like that.” The hissing is close by and getting closer, coming from a grouping of large bushes ahead of us. I motion for Haime to keep backing up until she’s behind me. The leaves rustle, and I brace for the naga’s appearance. Highly intelligent—debatably even sentient—an adult naga could sometimes be reasoned with. With an offering of meat. “If it attacks, Haime, I want you to run. Understand?”
“I can help,” she whines.
“No, not against an adult.”
“But—”
“No buts.”
The rustling grows louder, and Haime falls silent. Twigs snap, and a frog scurries out from under the bush. I’m holding my breath as the branches part and the gleam of dark eyes appears between the leaves. Solid black, they stare at us. They’re small, I realize, my brow furrowing.
The hissing heightens, and the bush shifts to reveal the naga entirely—a youngling. A male youngling, due to the lack of breasts. His tail slides forward and lashes out in warning. There’s fear etched across the boy’s dirty face.
I lower my weapon. “Are you alone, little one?”
He bares his teeth and snaps at me.
I take a step forward, free palm extended, disarming. “It’s okay,” I coo. Peering about, I don’t find any sign of adult nagas with him.
“Milly, what’s going on? Is… is he okay?” Haime says.
“I don’t know. Just stay back.” I focus on the boy, who’s pressed farther into the brush but still watching us—watching Haime. I shouldn’t try to help him, but he’s a child, no older than her, and even if he is a naga, it hurts my heart to think he’s all alone.
“Can we help him?” Haime asks.
Without answering, I put my dagger away and reach out to the boy. “It’s okay,” I say again. “You’re okay. We won’t hurt you.” Yet I know he could still hurt us.
His eyes shift to me, and he hisses loudly. I take another small step forward. There is now a softness to his gaze. Perhaps he will calm—but thunder sounds and he startles.
“No!” I cry as he slips into the bushes and vanishes.
“Wait!” Haime runs past me and dives into the brush.
“Haime. Stop!” But she’s already crashing through the plants ahead. I take after her as the first raindrops fall from above. “Haime! Don’t!” She doesn’t listen, doesn’t stop. My eyes dart every which way, searching everywhere for her trail.
“Please wait!” She calls out ahead.
“Haime!”
Soon after the noise of pursuit stops and my trail goes dead. I scream for Haime, but she doesn’t answer, my only response to the whoosh of rain falling upon the leaves around me. No, no, no. Backtracking, I search for signs of a trail but am only led back to the thick clearing of grass and brush, the place where I’d lost my ward.
Heart hammering, I yell for Haime again, my panic increasing by the second, turning full-circle. I swipe out my spear to push back the overgrown leaves and vines. I beg for any clue to where she’s gone. My sandals begin to stick as mud gathers at my feet. Soon, any tracks will vanish.
The storm will wipe her trail clean.
I scream louder, desperate for a response. I pivot again when I see it—a large cropping of mossy rocks, tucked between arching roots from a nearby tree. But it’s not the rocks that pull my attention, it’s the ancient remnants of a naga nest and the pit in the ground behind it, hidden between the rocks. I surge forward and crouch at the pit’s entrance. Has she fallen? Was the boy bait?
“Haime!” I shout inside it. It’s deep, I realize, ducking in. Deeper than just a pit. It’s a hole—a cave entrance.
“Milaye,” Haime calls back to me, her voice muffled from somewhere deep within. A wave of relief crashes through me. I’ve found her.
“Haime, are you okay!? Are you hurt?”
“The boy ran in here, but I can’t find him—I can’t see.” Her high-pitched cry is
far off. “I can’t see. I can’t see!” It grows shrill.
“Stay right there. I’m coming after you!” Setting my spear aside and pulling away from the entrance, I search for a piece of wood to light, but the rain has made its way down to drop in splats upon the underbrush. Rushing to the old naga nest, I find broken branches, concealed under the tree’s large roots. Grabbing the biggest of the branches, I tug out flint and fire moss from my pouch. By rubbing the moss at the end of the branch, I make a crude torch.
Returning to the cave opening, I light the torch and drop to a crouch. “I’m coming,” I call out. “Don’t move!”
Holding the torch before me, I unsheathe my dagger and descend into the cold darkness.
2
Drazak’s Dream
Petrichor invades my mind. The scent of fresh rain in the air, and the feel of that rain upon my wings. It slides over my muscles and between my scales, and with it is the smell of soil. Rich soil, filled with minerals and dampened with water. It calls to me like a flame in the darkness and brings me peace.
I am familiar with this dreamy feeling. It is one I have had countless times. So many times that the memories blend together until my life is one reverie after another. I also know somewhere, not here, it is real and more than a pleasant feeling.
It is raining.
My body does nothing with this knowledge, and I settle into it. I have tried and tried to hold onto more than these feelings—they only serve as a reminder of the passing of time—to no avail. It is the rain that keeps me sane… I think. It is the rain, the soil, and the damp all around me that has given me the knowledge of time. I have gone through this thousands of times, and because of that, I know I have lain here for hundreds of years.