Dragon Clutch



  Dragon Clutch

  Written by

  Delaney Walnofer

  The Dragon Slave Trilogy

  Book One . . . Dragon Slave

  Book Two . . . Dragon Clutch

  Book Three . . . Dragon Fool

  Cover illustrated by Delaney Walnofer

  Copyright © 2015 by Delaney Walnofer

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-1311626776

  Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoy this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their preferred authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

  For the Ghost of

  King Tazpin

  Prologue

  “Xander found a wyvern that was all white with pretty, red eyes!” little Damara chatted ecstatically. “Have you ever seen a wyvern with red eyes?”

  An old fat woman, distracted as she looked around, continued stirring a large pot of stew and replied, “Keep sorting those beans, Damara, dear. We need to get this food out to the court as soon as we can.”

  Damara looked down at the bowl in front of her and plunged one of her tiny hands into it, giggling at the sensation of beans shifting around inside.

  “She flew around and repeated everything I said!” she piped up again, still thinking of the wyvern. “I asked her what her name was, but then she asked me that so I told her mine and you know what she said? Hey,” Damara called for the cook’s attention, “you know what she said?”

  “Hmm?” The cook tasted the steaming stew. Immediately, she dropped the spoon, rapidly sucking in air to cool her tongue.

  “She said that her name was Damara, too!” The child giggled, oblivious of the woman’s pain. “Isn’t that funny? Isn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” one of the kitchen helpers drawled sarcastically as she chopped vegetables. “It’s so funny, I’m about to drop this knife from laughing too hard.”

  “Does she really believe all this?” an older girl asked from beside the ovens, concerned. “She thinks she was raised by dragons?”

  “I was!” Damara said, a childish smile spreading across her face.

  “Don’t encourage her, Lilly.” The first girl’s knife made a thok-ing sound as she chopped through a carrot more forcefully than necessary. “You’re new here, but soon you’ll get sick of Damara’s dimwitted tales just like the rest of us. And trust me, they just keep coming.”

  “You don’t have to make up things, Damara,” Lilly cooed. “I’m sure there are stories from your real life that are just as interesting.”

  They don’t believe me? Damara’s smile faded as realization set in.

  “I’m telling the truth!” she insisted.

  “Oh, please!” the girl cutting carrots snorted. “Talking dragons that want to be your friend? They’d sooner swallow you whole.”

  Damara prickled with anger. “The dragons would never hurt me!” she yelled. “I’m going to tell Jacinth what you just said! She’ll be so mad, she’ll have white-hot flames coming out of her mouth!”

  “I thought you said all the dragons left,” the girl sneered. “You can’t even get your own made up stories right.”

  “They’re not made up!” Damara screamed. In a flurry, she clenched a handful of beans and threw them at the girl, leaping up like a feisty kitten.

  The beans hit the girl square in the face and she gasped, watching the beans bounce off her and fall to the ground.

  “That’s enough!” the old woman at the stew pot bellowed. “Damara, take your bread and leave. You’re done for the day.” She shoved a loaf of bread into the child’s hands.

  Damara stared down at the hot bread. “What about the second one?” she asked unhappily.

  “You should be grateful that you even get that much today.”

  Damara looked up at the whale of a woman with pouty eyes. “What about her?” She pointed at the girl who stood amongst the fallen beans, looking terribly offended.

  “She’s not the one throwing things,” the woman replied. “Now go.” She shooed Damara away and the child left, face crumpling as tears rolled down her soft cheeks.

  Why don’t they believe me?

  The bread was still hot from the oven, nearly burning her tender hands.

  I’m going to see the dragons again, she promised herself determinedly. I’m going to find Jacinth, and River, and everyone else when I get older.

  She walked out into the courtyard, the smell of roses freshening the air. With watery eyes, she stared as a tame hunting dragon bounded up to her. It eyed the loaf of bread in her hands hopefully with mouth gaping in a silly, doglike grin.

  Monigon was what Damara’s brother, Xander, called these dragons, the ones that couldn’t talk. They were common, unlike the dragons of Damara’s childhood.

  With a raspy sound somewhere between a bark and a cough, the hunting monigon nudged her in the ribs, begging for food.

  “Hey there- shoo!” A boy came out of the nearby stables and placed a hand on the reptile’s head, firmly pushing it away. The monigon resisted a moment, then locked its attentive gaze onto someone wheeling a cart of grain and trotted away.

  Damara watched it go, entranced. “Did you see that, Xander?” she asked, already cheering up. “He wanted our bread!”

  “I saw,” Xander answered, taking the loaf from her hands. “You know what to do if one of those attacks you, right? You stand very still- don’t run, remember?”

  Damara barely heard him, still watching the canine-like reptile.

  “Damara?”

  “Yes, Brother,” she chirped at last. “But, Xander, look how funny that one is. Isn’t he funny?”

  “Yeah. Here, come on.” He grabbed her hand and they walked into the stables. In the far corner was a large pile of hay. Damara pulled away to run and jump into it, sending straw flying as she did so.

  “Stop, you’ll get our food dirty,” Xander said, sitting down beside her, his stable boy clothes baggy around his waist. He asked, “Where is the other loaf? You didn’t give it to that monigon- did you, Damara?”

  “No,” she sniffed, taking her half of the bread as he handed it to her.

  “Then what happened?” he inquired further.

  Biting down on her bread, Damara smiled as she recalled the satisfaction of seeing the girl so offended. “I threw beans at an ugly face,” she giggled with her mouth full.

  “You what?!”

  Damara snickered impishly and took another bite without answering.

  “Damara,” Xander scolded like an adult, “don’t throw things. You could get in big trouble for that!”

  “I only did it because she was being mean to me,” she whined. “She said that a dragon wouldn’t be my friend!”

  “Damara!” he cried, a panicked look on his face. Glancing around, he lowered his voice. “You told them about the dragons? Damara, I told you not to! They might go after the dragons! You don’t want to put them in danger, do you?”

  “No,” she pouted.

  Xander fiddled with a strap on his shoulder, concern filling his youthful eyes. A soft grey horse whinnied in its stall.

  She remembered dozens of dragons in the morning sky, all flying away. She could still picture where the sky met the sea, a thin line strung out in front of her. It held there, forever out of her reach, yet swallowed the dragons, leaving nothing but vast emptiness in their departure.

  They left me…

  “Where did the dragons go, Xander?” she asked, tugging on his shirt.

  “I don’t know,” he murmured in response.

  A friar entered the stables and Xander jumped up to serve him. Close to Da
mara, a huge horse snorted, tossing its head. Amazed, Damara stood up and ventured over to it, cautiously laying one hand on the horse’s sandy colored coat.

  Grinning, little Damara got a wooden stool and stepped onto it. But even on the tips of her toes, the horse’s back looked too far over her head. Daringly, she reached out, clenched a fistful of the horse’s mane, and labored to pull herself up.

  “Damara, stop!” Xander cried out, alerted when the horse brayed. Damara protested as her brother rushed to take her away, back to the pile of hay in the corner.

  “Don’t touch any of the horses!” Xander demanded, then hurried off again as someone called for him.

  Damara sighed in boredom and let herself fall back into the straw, squinting her eyes as dust swirled around them. Some of the particles invaded her nostrils and she sneezed.

  Something clung to the wood of the rafters above her.

  She gasped, trying not to tumble as she leapt to her feet, standing as tall as she could in the slippery hay. She craned her neck back to see it- a little, marble white creature that stared back at her with beady red eyes.

  “Xander!” she said, delighted. “Xander, look at this!”

  “Mmph!” her brother grunted as he lifted up a heavy saddle. “Not now, Damara.”

  Damara held eyes with the winged monigon in the rafters like it was a tasty looking apple too high for her to pick.

  “I remember you!” she whispered to it. “You’re the little wyvern Xander found in the forest. Do you remember me?”

  The monigon turned the side of its head to her, eyeing her. “Do you remember me?” it mimicked her voice, just as it had when she lived with the dragons.

  “Yes!” Damara shrilled and danced about in uncontainable joy. She lost her footing in the shifty hay, sliding down on her back until her foot hit a wooden post with a thud.

  “Ow.” She started as the wyvern took flight over her head. “Wait!”

  She chased after it as the small creature flew through the stable door and outside. Xander called to Damara as she ran past him and the horse he led, but she didn’t stop.

  She kept her eyes locked on the wyvern, barely seeing where she was going. She ran into a small group of people, weaving through them without a moment’s pause.

  Damara exited the courtyard, despite her brother’s shouting. The monigon glided low on gentle drafts, tilting its head at her from above as she caught up directly below it. She gave a breathy laugh, trying to make out its kite-like shape in the glare of the sun.

  It flew ahead of her again, speeding forward, but Damara was too winded to keep following. She skipped to a halt, gasping for breath with her hands on her knees, and watched as the wyvern sped away.

  Then, from above came a terrible screech and a falcon twice the wyvern’s size plummeted down like a slicing arrow. In one swoop, the bird had the monigon in its talons.

  Damara cried out. She saw the wyvern struggle with the falcon, fighting it until it finally let go. Freed but injured, the wyvern fell to the ground, wings ruffled by the air currents. There it landed, a few yards away from Damara. She rushed forward, but someone caught her from behind.

  “Damara, don’t run off like that!” Xander was telling her, holding her back.

  “Xander, she’s hurt!” Damara shrilled. “I have to help her!”

  “She’s a wild animal,” Xander reasoned with her. “She can take care of herself.”

  “No, no!” Damara protested, still fighting to get to the motionless monigon. “She’s my friend, Xander! She needs my help!”

  “Come on,” Xander told her, unrelenting. “We need to get back before we’re missed.”

  “No!” Damara screamed and cried as he pulled her back the way they came. It felt awfully familiar to her, being withheld like that. Tears streamed down her face and, just as she had watched the dragons fly beyond the horizon, she watched the crumpled wyvern disappear from sight.

  Chapter 1