Dragon Bonds (Return of the Darkening Series Book 3) (12 page)

I would much rather be able to reason and treat with them as I could with Kalax, even arguing our cases, not that Kalax ever listened much to me anyway. But Kalax’s thoughts hit me hard.

You—mine!

She was right. These dragons needed an alpha to follow. They really needed to belong to her.

The swimming dragon looked from Kalax to me, and then glanced at Thea, one dragon twisting and cocking its head to one side. Slowly, it ducked its head into the water and came up with a fish, which it gulped down, never taking its eyes from Kalax.

Behind it, the other dragon gave a growl of resentment. They were accepting food from Kalax’s territory. The black dragons ducked their heads low. Neither one was happy, but both were now Kalax’s to command.

Or that’s what I hoped. Now we’d see if they could learn to listen to a human, too.

S
eb was looking
… ill.

If I’d been kinder about it, I might have put it as just tired, but a few nights of rough sleeping hadn’t put those deep shadows under his eyes. Sitting by the evening fire, he looked like a creature from one of the ghost stories Merik and Varla loved to tell. Red and orange reflected in his eyes from the fire and made the sunken hollows of his cheeks seem even deeper. I didn’t want to talk about it in front of the others, but they could see just as much as I that Seb was looking terrible. Even his hair seemed to stick up more than usual and it had seemed to dull over the past two days.

That was how long it had been since Seb had ‘captured’ the two wild dragons. But wasn’t really the right word for what he’d done. The black dragons were hanging around, but they didn’t really obey anyone—not Seb, not Kalax, and not even each other as far as I could tell.

At least they are not attacking us.

I sipped the soup Merik had made from the edible plants Varla had foraged. One of the many interests Merik had that Varla shared was cooking. It seemed that Merik had done more than spend all this time looking at maps. He’d studied the names and classifications of flora and fauna from the large bestiaries and herbariums that had once existed. And Varla loved learning about everything.

As soon as we made camp, Merik would start scouting, often pulling Varla with him and we’d hear shouts of “Marsh-Clover!” or “Lyeni’s Root!”

Beris and Syl would both roll their eyes—they didn’t think cooking was a skill any Dragon Rider needed, and I had to agree with them.

But I couldn’t deny that Merik’s soup was surprisingly tasty. It had a touch of garlic and a nutty flavor, mixed with a good dollop of sweet-sour. But I was starting to think we needed to go fishing more and not let the dragons have all the fun.

Not far from our campfire, the wild dragons kept nipping at each other, hissing at each other in the twilight and flaring their spiked manes if anyone even looked at them. They were putting all of us on edge.

They didn’t look like they were our allies, despite the fact that they trailed after us, taking to the air when we did, landing with us, watching Kalax. They kind of ignored Feradima—she’d slapped both of them across the snout with her tail. And Gaxtal eyed the blacks as if he was thinking about how he wanted to take a bite out of them. I was starting to think maybe he made the black dragons nervous.

Right now, I could hear their soft chirrups from the woods behind us as they bickered with each other. Arguing seemed to be another form of affection for them—a way that they communicated. Gaxtal had settled down on the opposite side of camp from the wild dragons, along with Feradima.

As for Kalax, she was keeping to herself tonight. But she went with Seb whenever he went to check on the black dragons. It seemed to me she was more than a little bit jealous of the attention that Seb was giving the wild dragons. Seb was her human after all, as I was.

Coming back to the camp and sitting down on one of the logs by the fire, Seb said, “It won’t be long now.”

Merik glanced over at him. Syl had already settled in next to Gaxtal to sleep, leaving Varla, Beris and me still sitting around the fire.

“Won’t be long before what?” Beris asked, his face pinched with worry. He glanced over to the woods where the wild dragons had settled, hunched a shoulder and turned away from them.

How many of us were actually sleeping at night, or was everyone else like me—waking up to every crack and rumble, worried the wild dragons might have decided on a midnight snack of us.

“Before we try to saddle them.” Seb gave Beris a crooked smile. He took a wooden bowl of soup from Merik. To me, Seb’s smile looked weak. Varla glanced at Seb and winced, as if she thought Seb was being too optimistic.

A frown pulling his eyebrows flat, Beris stared at Seb. “Are you seriously suggesting we ride those things?”

“They’re not things,” Seb growled. I could tell from the tone in Seb’s voice just how much Beris had managed to offend him. Even though they were wild dragons, Seb still had the greatest respect for them. He wasn’t like the rest of us who just saw dangerous dragons—his Dragon Affinity really did set him apart.

“Just who is going to ride one of them?” Beris asked, his words clipped. He didn’t seem to see Seb’s mouth tighten or how Seb’s eyes narrowed. “It’s not just the fact that they’ll turn around and eat you as soon as look at you—it’s also a question of regular riders. Who are you going train to be a Dragon Rider in just a few days? Or are you suggesting we split the teams we already have? One rider to every dragon?”

“If we have to, I’ll ride one.” Seb glanced at me, his eyebrows lifted.

Our eyes met, I knew what he meant.

One of the effects of Seb’s affinity was that it made such a strong connection between the three of us—him, Kalax and me. I could fly Kalax on my own and still be in close communication with Seb, and Seb would also know what Kalax was doing and thinking. But could any of the other riders split up and still be able to both fly and fight? There was a reason why it took a team of riders to manage dragon riding.

Luckily, however, I didn’t have to say anything about what I was thinking.

Varla put down her soup bowl with a clatter and announced, “I’ve been thinking about the story Seb told us—the one that Thea got from the Gypsies about the First Rider. It fits with a few things Merik and I have read in some of the oldest scrolls.”

We all stared at her. Face pink, she folded her hands in her lap as if she was in the classroom back at the Academy and had given the wrong answer.

I waved a hand at her. “Well…go on.”

She glanced at Merik. He gave her a nod as well and an encouraging smile.

She stood and spread her feet wide like she was about to give a lecture. “We all know that back in the earliest days, dragons lived in the mountains—like wild dragons do now. But the dragons of the Middle Kingdom were always the largest. All accounts have it, too, that the Middle Kingdom dragons are also slightly different from the Southern dragons. Now if the First Rider was raised by monks—like in the story the Gypsies told—then he must have been raised by, or maybe he even started, the Draconis Order of monks and sorcerers. That makes sense—right? So they must be the ones who made the Dragon Stones—they knew magic, after all. We also know there is a story that the King’s Dragon Stone defeated the Darkening. Which means that…well, uhm…I think we need to look for the First Rider.”

I blinked a few times and asked, “You mean you think the First Rider is still alive?” I was hoping she was wrong about that. It was bad enough trying to figure out if Lord Vincent was really an ancient prince who had become immortal due to magic and the Darkening. I shivered. I didn’t like this idea of immortals—that meant trouble that stayed around forever.

Varla huffed out a breath. “Of course not. But haven’t we all heard about the tomb of the First Rider? How the First Rider was buried and mourned by the First Dragon?”

I glanced at Seb, then at Merik. They were nodding, so they had heard those old stories, too. Looking at Varla, I said, “You think the First Rider had the King’s Dragon Stone?”

Varla nodded and her voice picked up speed. “Think of the Gypsy story. He said the First Rider was a king, but then that Gypsy took the story back to a time before the First Rider became king. Have any of you ever heard that the First Rider was a king? Probably the first king of Torvald? That means the First Rider had to be King Torvald!” Varla put her hands on her hips and grinned. The firelight made her red hair look even redder, and the way she was grinning left her looking almost too young to be a Dragon Rider.

I shook my head. It seemed to me that Varla was reaching more than a little to make this idea work, but it was also at least something we could use to narrow our search from looking at every single ruin of a monastery to maybe just looking for anything connected to the First Rider. This was also a reason I could use to distract Seb from getting too obsessed with the black dragons he was so intent on taming.

Turning to Seb, I said, “We should wait to saddle the wilds until they’re able to fly in formation with us. We should listen to Varla.”

Varla sat down, smiling as if I’d just told her she was the best Dragon Rider ever. Merik leaned over and patted her shoulder. Beris just let out a breath as if maybe he thought we were all crazy. I shot him a look—he was the one who’d come to join us.

Seb cleared his throat, glancing from Varla to me and back again. At last, he gave a reluctant nod. “Okay, I guess that you’re right. They need more practice flying with us and not being so noisy.”

“Thank the First Rider for that,” Beris muttered, still loud enough for all to hear. I shot him another frown, but he stood and headed to where Gaxtal and Syl were snoring.

Varla yawned, stood and stretched. “I’ve got more reading to do before I sleep.” She headed off to sit by Feradima.

I used the time to try and get Seb to eat more soup, and Merik—bless him—pulled out a flagon of wine that he got Seb to drink, which at least put a little color in Seb’s cheeks.

A half hour later, Varla almost ran back to us, a scroll in one hand and her braid loose so her hair frizzed out around her head. “I’ve got where we start. There’s a shrine to the First Rider not far from here—a couple of days’ ride on horse maybe.”

“Half a day by dragon.” Seb said.

Varla nodded, her grin wide. “That’s about what I thought.” She held up the scroll. ”But this doesn’t say anything about King Torvald or the First Dragon.”

Merik shrugged and pushed his optics up on his nose. “Let’s go anyway. It would stupid to miss something just because we decided to be lazy.”

Varla shot a quick look at me that I almost missed in the flickering firelight. Something was bothering her. “Yeah—about that,” she said, looking between me and Seb. “This does say some not very nice things about the King’s Dragon Stone. At first I just thought it was sour grapes—most of comes from the Runes of Hroth.”

Seb threw a twig into the fire. “I have no idea who Hroth is.”

I was glad he’d said it, since I’d been thinking the same thing.

Varla waved the scroll. “Hroth was a shaman from the north tribes. He did a lot of traveling and actually wrote down the lore he heard.”

Merik nodded and leaned forward. Light glinted off his optics and his dark skin. “Unfortunately, he used his own system of runes so there’s still a lot of argument about the exact meaning of each symbol.” He drew what looked like a triangle in the dirt. “That could mean horse or it could mean house.”

I rubbed the knot between my eyes. “How is any of this a problem?”

Varla shrugged. “He probably had a biased opinion, but he claimed the King’s Dragon Stone is evil.” She glanced at Seb and looked away. “That it’s like the Dragon Affinity and that no one should ever use it.”

I clenched my back teeth. This was exactly what I had feared.

Seb gave a snort. “Same old stuff. Everyone hated the Dragon Affinity back then and still do. They fear what they don’t understand.”

Varla nodded. “Yeah. You’re probably right, Seb. And maybe I’ve got the translation wrong.”

Merik stood and dusted off his breeches. “Why don’t I come help you with that scroll?” They headed into the darkness, talking softly between them, making for where Feradima lay, a large and silent shadow tucked up against the rocks.

The fire had burnt low and the shadows it cast in the trees overhead flickered and danced.

“I should check on the wild dragons,” Seb said and started to stand.

I beat him up and put a hand on his arm. “They’ll be fine. And you’re too tired to do anything if they’re not. Get some sleep. You’ll be able to do a better job tomorrow.”

A wuffle came out of the darkness from Kalax as if she approved of that plan.

Seb stared at me, looking glassy-eyed, as if wanted to argue but couldn’t think what to say. He finally nodded. I hated how it was taking so much out of him to deal with the wild dragons—were they worth it?

Seb scrubbed a hand through his hair. “If anything happens—”

“I’ll come get you. I’ll keep first watch, then Merik can keep second, and Beris third.” To be truthful, I was loath to leave even the dying bit of light the fire was giving out.

But Seb didn’t move, so I asked, “Is it, painful? Keeping the black dragons with us?”

Seb grimaced. That told me it was.

It was worse seeing him like this than it had been seeing him after the battle for Torvald, when the affinity had drained him but had helped to save so many lives. I had hoped the affinity would get stronger, making it easier for Seb to use it. But now I could see he was sickening as if from some wasting disease.

“It’s not connecting with them that’s the problem,” he said, his voice tired. I was sure he was lying about that. “It’s how I have to keep stopping them from fighting all the time.” He winced as if even now, in their sleep, he had to send the wild dragons soothing thoughts. “They fight over food, over who gets to fly first, over their status with the other dragons, and now they’ve even started fighting over us. I don’t even think they really want to hurt anyone…they’re just always trying to prove themselves.”

Lips pressed tight, I kept a hand on his arm. I didn’t know what to say. Did he still think this was a good idea? But if I started to argue with him, I knew he’d just dig in and wouldn’t admit that he needed to stop.

Shaking my head, I asked, “By the First Dragon, how are we going to get more wild dragons if you have trouble handling just two?”

Seb pulled away from me, forced a smile and waved away my concerns. “I’m just tired. You’re right. I’ll feel better in the morning.”

I watched as he stumbled wearily to Kalax’s side.