Bonds of Fire, Page 2

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  Drekken wasn't sure how long he had been out, but two minutes on his feet in the streets of the small town told him the residents had abandoned their homes. The place had been pretty badly bombarded and the Feras always sent in ground troops with any battle as well. They'd done a thorough job of making sure the villagers could not fight back. Once neat, white buildings in the old style were lying broken across the streets and he'd found two smashed communications' crystals already. Still, many years in Army Draco meant Drekken was too well-trained to assume he was alone, so he moved quietly and quickly, keeping close to cover and on the alert for any hostiles.

  He heard them before he saw them.

  The sound of pleading was never pleasant. He'd had enemies offer it to him and he'd been witness to his own people begging for their lives, both of which left a bad taste in his mouth, so, when he heard a young voice entreating another with, "Please, no, please, no, he's hurt," he sped up his pace and headed towards its owner. The sound of a Feras laser sliced through his hearing and there was a horrified scream before Drekken rounded a corner and was faced with a scene that made his blood boil. A youth was collapsed over the neck of an old dragon whose eyes were closed, his bright blue tunic covered in the blood of his companion. Another young man was standing, arms stretched out in surrender to the black-armoured hulk of a Feras warrior, whose weapon was still trained on the dragon.

  Drekken reacted instantly, he planted his feet, raised his arm and let his magic rise. He felt his dragon-bond flare and a fireball swept down over the scales on his forearm and out from his palm straight at his enemy. The soldier didn't stand a chance as neat dragon-fire hit him and exploded into a thousand tongues of angry flame. Drekken forced his fire in between the plates of thick armour that hid the man from head to foot and he felt the burn start. His enemy dropped the laser and as soon as he heard the soldier cry out, Drekken released the flames to their own devices. They flared, the man convulsed and then what Drekken knew to be an empty hunk of armour collapsed to the ground.

  The two youths watched their attacker fall, horror on their faces, but Drekken ignored them for now. His prime concern was the dragon, whose rasping breaths filled the silence that followed the fireball, and he ran to the creature's side. There was a large gash in the dragon's flank from which dark blood was still flowing, but the more concerning injury was a scorch mark on the failing creature's chest. That was damage done by a laser, nothing else could more than superficially hurt a dragon, and Drekken knew without closer inspection that it was bad. Quickly, he leant up against the side of the huge old beast and listened for the slow heartbeat he was expecting. When he heard a rushing sound with it, he stood back and glanced sadly at the youth kneeling at the dragon's neck.

  "No," said with anguish told Drekken he had been understood and then he watched as a blond head was lowered to rest against green-blue scales.

  The other youth ran over and joined his companion and both were crying. At that, large, yellow eyes opened and, with some effort, the dragon raised his head. Drekken bowed, offering the respect owed such a great old bird, but he remained silent on the periphery as the dying creature turned to his young ones.

  'Yakov, Malachi,' the dragon spoke haltingly, but Drekken could hear his thoughts as well and knew the effort the projection had to be taking, so he placed his hand on the creature's hide and opened his mind.

  He felt a mental sigh for his assistance and the ancient lizard's influence slid into him as he offered his magic and his strength to support the dragon's thought-speaking.

  "Master Besthan, you can't die," one of the youths mourned.

  'My time has come, Young Ones,' Besthan soothed. 'I place the hatchlings into your charge now.'

  "We aren't fully trained, yet," the other boy objected, his voice small and scared.

  The dragon snorted a hot breath over all three humans and replied, 'You are two of the best empaths I have ever trained and Drekken will help you.'

  Suddenly Drekken found himself the centre of attention for all three strangers. Through his contact with the dragon, he could feel the need in Besthan and he could see the fear in the youths as they looked to him to reply. When Besthan looked over Drekken's shoulder, Drekken felt the urge to follow the look. Then, with a strength of will Drekken could feel, the dragon lifted his great wing that had been lying apparently limp over the ground. The sound of whimpering reached Drekken's ears before he saw them, five small bodies huddled together in the crook of Besthan's wing, noses buried in each other and eyes tight closed. He'd never seen so many hatchlings before, they were not a common sight at an army camp, and he had no idea what the knot of emotions was that suddenly sunk into his stomach. However, he could not abandon civilians in a battle zone, especially not children, and he knew his life had just become a whole lot harder.