War of the Dragons: Book Four of the Dragon-Born Saga, Page 3

  It was true that the dragons of the old days had inhabited their world since the beginning of time. It had been a time of great chaos. While they spent their days in their mountain lairs, they’d comb the human lands with destruction and death, killing and eating livestock and the sometimes the farmers themselves.

  When the great wizards hatched a plan that was supposed to both stop the attacks and increase the power of magic-born men and women, they never knew what they were actually creating.

  Warwick was determined to reverse their errors.

  This, was just the beginning.

  Chapter 6

  Fear and courage fought for dominance as they took turns flickering in Ophelia’s eyes. The guards forced her to her knees and they scraped the stone pathway in front of her burning estate. She looked for Luca, not prepared to be away from the woman whom she’d come to love as a dear friend.

  The red mist clung to the air, and all of the Dragons who breathed it in were unable to shift.

  While Parean soldiers crowded her estate and the Wickenham grounds, the wizard and a young woman with the mask on her face seemed to be the ones in charge.

  “If you had just drunk the elixir, we wouldn’t have had to use force,” the wizard said. “I will give you one last chance to cooperate.”

  “Who are you? What do you want?”

  “Sir Warwick Ludlow, at your service, madam,” he said with a deep bow, mocking her. “Now, drink the elixir so we can leave without worrying about you shifting on our ship.”

  She frowned. “You’re a human.”

  “Correct,” he said.

  “Then, why are you in Dragon territory? It is illegal for you to even be here.”

  “Not anymore,” he said. “Not since the Withraen’s started raiding our lands.”

  She swallowed. She had no idea about that. She was sure there must be some misunderstanding. Rowen would not let her Dragons do such a thing.

  “But, what do you want with me?”

  “Such things are none of your concern. All you need to know is that you are now prisoner to King Kelton of the central dominance of Trinity. You belong to the Trinity brothers until your sister and her usurper of a husband agree to our demands.”

  “What demands?”

  He shook his head. “So many questions. When the only one you should be thinking about is how badly do you want to live. Do I want to have my head separated from my body? Those are the questions you should be asking yourself.”

  She pursed her lips. She did not want to die today.

  Nodding, Ophelia finally gave in. They’d already bound her wrists and clamped a collar made of enchanted steel around her neck so that she couldn’t shift into a Dragon and escape. The elixir was just another form of suppressant. She knew it would not harm her. She’d heard of it before. It was used on prisoners. Still, it didn’t erase the terror she felt at the thought of not being able to transform into her Dragon form.

  She opened her mouth and the thick liquid was poured down her throat. Swallowing, she grimaced and wished she had something to take the bitter taste from her mouth.

  “Good girl,” Warwick said. He nodded to the guards. “Take her to the carriage. We will use the Gatekeeper route to get her to Trinity as quickly as possible. The king will be waiting. He is not a patient man, so hurry it up.”

  Being marched away from her home for the second time in her life, Ophelia was numb to it. The effects of the elixir had already began to take effect, draining her energy and clouding her mind.

  “You didn’t have to drug me,” she said, slurring as she was taken past the wizard.

  He met her eyes with his, a pale blue. “Can never be too careful when prophecy is involved.”

  Prophecy?

  She frowned and her eyes rolled back into her head. She was lifted from the ground and carried, and no longer cared. The drug was oddly euphoric, if not scary. She had no control over her arms or legs, and could barely keep her head up.

  Mother had always said she was a remarkable Dragon. Red dragons were rare. They were revered even higher than golden dragons, and she’d been blessed with a scarlet shade that filled her eyes and covered her scales whenever she made the change.

  Still, neither knew where it came from. Her mother was a white Dragon, her father had been brown, and Rowen had never been able to transform.

  She may never know what made her so different.

  Chapter 7

  Rowen pulled her cloak over her head and lowered her eyes. From the top of the municipal tower, she peered at Rock Bottom, the seedy part of the city where danger was known to lurk in every corner. With a deep sigh, she stepped off the edge, and soared down to the ground. She landed on her feet without a sound, and the cackling of a couple of drunkards down the street to her right reached her ears as she straightened her clothing and gathered her bearings.

  Walking through the kingdom’s lower cities was indeed dangerous, but, she needed help. She needed a few of her questions answered. There was one person she could count on to give her what she needed. One person she trusted even more than her husband.

  The sky was darkening as she walked deeper and deeper into Withrae’s underbelly. The paved streets went straight downhill, toward the sea. Shops and homes lined either end, and drunkards and homeless vagabonds slept in the alleys. There were things she wanted to change in the kingdom, but hated how long everything took. How many things each decision had to go through. If it were up to Rowen, she’d come down here and clean up the streets herself.

  She tensed when a little boy in raggedy clothing ran out in front of her. His face was covered in dirt and soot, and his hair was long and stringy, soaked with water and what looked to be oil or tar. It was too cold outside to wear such scant clothing. She could tell by the way he shivered that he’d been out there for far too long.

  He reached out to her with open hands. “Please, miss. My ma and pa haven’t been back in days. Got any food?”

  Without hesitation, she reached her hand into her cloak and opened her coin purse. “How about a few gold coins to get you through the winter?”

  The smile that took over his face warmed her heart. How could anyone leave such an adorable little boy alone like that? He couldn’t have been older than eight years old.

  The moment she pulled the golden coins from the bag, his eyes widened and instead of taking them from her, he turned and ran the other way.

  Confused, Rowen lowered her hand and began to call for him. “Hey!”

  Before she could utter another word, she was lifted from the ground by large hands and carried into the alley. She yelped, but a sweaty hand clamped over her mouth.

  Frantic with shock, she tried to free her hands and get a grip on her assailant’s exposed flesh. One touch was all it would take to bend him to her will. Just one.

  But, she couldn’t get her hands free far enough to grab his forearm. She tried to scream.

  Instead of assaulting her, as she was certain he’d intended, he snatched her coin purse and pushed her into the wall. Then, he ran, barely showing his face.

  Stunned, Rowen stood there for a moment, trying to catch her breath. She balled her hand into a fist and slammed it into the wall at her back. She should have known better. She should have been more careful and paid attention to her surroundings. She was a powerful wizard, and still got robbed.

  Rickard would not be impressed. No, he’d be disappointed. Maybe even ashamed. With a frustrated grunt, she left the dark and wet alley that was slick with ice and back into the street. This time, she kept her eyes up and made sure she wasn’t being followed. Though she hated to admit it, it might be time to learn how to fight.

  Rickard kept trying to get her to join him in the mornings in the training camps. She was too busy reading the old scrolls and trying to make sense of all of the recorded prophecies in the Literary Vaults in the center of the city. There had to be something in there that would explain what was happening to the air in Draconia.

&nbs
p; Something that wasn’t her fault.

  Maybe if she solved a few of the problems Draconia faced, she would end the threat with Trinity and Ludlow.

  “Best to keep away from these parts, miss,” a familiar voice said from behind.

  She turned to face Perdan and relief washed over her. She hugged him around the waist.

  “Perdan,” she said. “How I’ve missed you.”

  He stroked her hair. “I’ve missed you as well, Ro.”

  She pulled back and smiled up at him. He looked the same as when she’d last seen him. Clean shaven, with long blond hair and brown eyes.

  “But, what are you doing out here? You know it isn’t safe.”

  She took him by the hand and headed back toward her destination.

  “You know why,” she said. “Have you taken a look around? This red mist is destroying Withrae.”

  “Ah, yes. You need help, and so you’ve come to visit my mother. I see.”

  “She may know something that can help me. So much has happened and I am running out of options.”

  “Where is that handsome prince—I mean king—of yours?”

  “He went away to deal with the marauders to the south. But, to the south in the human realm, the Trinity brothers have my sister.”

  “Well, we’re going to have to do something about that, won’t we?”

  She nodded, and he hooked his arm around hers and together they walked the dark streets. The scent of sulfur filled her nostrils and lungs as they went further down the hill and into the slums.

  “Why do you two choose to stay down here? You could have stayed in the palace with me for as long as you’d like.”

  “Not likely,” he said. “You know better than anyone that Dragons are not fond of humans. And, we aren’t quite comfortable around them either. So, we prefer to stay in Rock Bottom. At least until we are called away.”

  “I see.” She pursed her lips, annoyed that the green mist was so thick in this part of town. Soon, it would reach the palace and she feared what that would mean for Withrae. What was a Dragon kingdom without Dragons?

  “Business is booming,” Perdan said. He lifted his hand and waved it through the red mist. “See this stuff? It’s making the Dragons go crazy with worry. They come to Ma for potions in hopes that she can cure them.”

  That worried Rowen. It wouldn’t be long before the Dragons took their frustrations out on the two sorcerers.

  “I know what you’re thinking. Dragons hate humans. We know this. But, times are changing, and right now they are desperate for a cure.”

  Rowen stopped, and her brows furrowed. “But, you can’t cure them.”

  He looked back at her and cracked a smirk. “Are you sure?”

  Eyes widened, she quickened her step to follow him.

  She was even more eager to speak to her mentor. There was one thing she could always count on from Feyda, something they had in common.

  The woman knew how to survive.

  Rowen followed Perdan down a flight of steep stairs that led the lower floors of Loddie’s Pub, a popular establishment in that part of town. As she walked down, the sounds off the activity on the street continued over her until they were muffled by the rushing water that ran down the pipes along the side of the pub.

  “Mother will be pleased to see you,” he said, and pushed open the red doors of the pub.

  Inside, loud voices welcomed her.

  The pub was packed from wall to wall with Dragons drinking themselves into a stupor. She’d been to pubs all over the coast when she was with Feyda and Perdan on the run from the Withraen Navy, and she’d seen all walks of life. But, there was nothing like a room full of intoxicated Dragons.

  When Dragons got drunk, they wanted to fight. And, fight they did. She could barely get inside without being shoved against the wall by another Dragon who had been pushed into her. She let out a grunt and pushed him off of her. He’d nearly knocked the wind out of her and Perdan took her by the hand, pulling her away from the fighting pair.

  Her cheeks were reddened. That was the second time that night she’d been roughed up. Perhaps Rickard was right about her staying away from Rock Bottom.

  “Keep your eyes open, Ro. Don’t want you getting snatched by one of these scoundrels,” Perdan said, keeping a firm grip on her hand. “And, stay close.”

  They maneuvered their way through the pub and past the crowded bar. She did as she was told, and kept an eye on her surroundings, and kept a fast pace. They crossed the large room and headed toward the back to another set of double doors.

  Perdan pushed them open and inside it was quieter, but just as packed.

  A smile came to Rowen’s face and her eyes widened at what she saw. Men and women stood shoulder to shoulder around a woman in a blue dress with brown hair cut shorter since the last time they’d seen each other.

  There she was, Feyda, her hands aglow and waving over the body of a young Dragon in his human form. His body rose from the table and everyone in attendance let out a collective gasp as her glow filled his body and dissipated.

  Her eyes lifted to Rowen’s and she winked at her.

  “Welcome, Ro. I’ll be finished here in a moment.”

  She nodded, and for the first time all day, the butterflies in her stomach began to subside.

  Feyda would have the answers.

  She had to.

  Chapter 8

  Her husband was dead. It wasn’t something that broke her heart in the way that it should. He had been a nobleman, and he had been kind. Still, at fifteen she’d been wed to a man twice her age when she would have much rather have joined her sister as a lady-in-waiting for the princess of Withrae.

  No, Ophelia never thought she was destined for adventure like her sister, Rowen. Not until Lord Wickenham had been killed and she’d been taken as a prisoner by one of the kings of Trinity.

  As she looked out the window of her prison—a small room on a massive ship—she wished she could fly out and swim in the teal-colored sea and its rocking waters. There were two beds stacked onto one another and fitted with the best linens from the human realm. They were soft, and smelled of flowers. Food was brought to her every few hours, gourmet dishes from every corner of Draconia. It was clear the king was trying to keep her comfortable.

  Nonetheless, her door was locked and guards stood outside at all times.

  This wasn’t the kind of adventure she had hoped for.

  “My lady,” Luca’Rosi called from her side. “You must eat something.”

  Ophelia looked back at her and turned up her nose. Why would she eat anything they’d given to her? She’d already been forced to drink the nasty concoction that muted her shifting ability. Though they released her hands from the binding rope, she was not free. She feared she’d never be free ever again.

  The servers had prepared a table for her. Set on a white cloth that draped over the circular table, was a platter of a whole fish with lemons and melted butter. There were several other dishes of boiled potatoes and chilled shrimp in a thick red sauce. Fresh bread with cheese broken into chunks with olives and roasted garlic.

  It looked delicious, but she refused. Though her stomach growled louder than the crashing of the waves outside her window, she would not eat.

  “It smells,” she said.

  “But, you like fish. The king is making an attempt to keep you well fed and comfortable. You must eat if you want to keep your strength.”

  “The king is a manipulative man. I am not a guest on this ship. These bars are not for decoration.” She hooked her hand around the cold bars that stretched from top to bottom of her window and gave it a tug.

  Luca’Rosi stood from the table and took her by the arm. She led her out of earshot of the guards and lowered her voice. “My Lady, in order to survive, you must do your best to show the king you are grateful you were kept alive.”

  “Grateful?” Ophelia lifted a brow. “If my sword hadn’t been taken, I would have shown him and his men just what kind of
gratitude I have for them.”

  Luca’Rosi frowned. “Listen, girl, enough with such talk. You are a child, and you have no idea what suffering is. What’s to stop him from locking you in the dungeons once we reach his empire? Or worse, torturing you?”

  Ophelia shrugged. “He wouldn’t dare. And, if he did, I could take it.”

  Luca’Rosi took her by the shoulders, tightly.

  “This is not a game, Ophelia. Your life is in danger. Don’t you see that?”

  For the first time since Ophelia had been sent away to Jeparthi, Luca’Rosi gave her such a scornful look. It made the color drain from her face. The woman was taller than her, with more scales on her chest and the side of her face. There was a great deal of Dragon blood in her, and Ophelia had no doubt she would turn into a beautiful bronze Dragon that matched her skin color.

  Instead of replying, she nodded her head.

  “I’ve been entrusted with your life and well-being. You think you know what awaits you if you show your disobedience? You haven’t the faintest clue.”

  Ophelia gasped inwardly as Luca’Rosi lowered the sash that covered her bosom and wrapped over her shoulder and around her back.

  There was a ghastly mark that stretched across the top of her breast. It had long since healed, but left a raised scar that would never fade.

  Ophelia rose her aquamarine eyes to Luca’s, whose were now filled with tears.

  “This,” she said, tracing the scar with her finger. “Is what happens when you become a prisoner of war. The Jeparthi’s fought a civil war for two years when I was just your age, and I nearly lost my life during that time. What you don’t seem to understand is that men can be cruel. And, the man who invaded my family home threatened to cut off my breasts if my father didn’t give him our gold and horses.”

  Though tears came to Ophelia’s eyes at the thought of someone hurting her beloved friend, it also ignited an anger within, one that had her clenching her fists.

  “What did your father do?”