Dragons Lost Read online

  Mercy rose in her stirrups, staring from side to side. "Where's the boy?"

  The other paladins seemed just as confused. They too stared from side to side, seeking Cade.

  The golden dragon was gone.

  "He must have fallen," said Sir Castus, streaming across the sky to her right. He pointed his lance down toward the mountains. "Probably dead between the pines."

  Mercy growled. No. No! She would not let him die. She would kill him herself in the capital for the multitudes to see, for her mother—the High Priestess herself—to smell the blood.

  "Then find him!" she cried. "Down into the forest. Uproot every tree if you must! Bring him to me alive, or bring me his corpse!"

  The firedrakes swooped. The wind roared, and the mountainsides rushed up toward them. With a shower of shattering branches, the firedrakes crashed through the pine canopy and landed on the rocky slopes. Mercy leaped from her saddle and gazed around, seeking him. Nothing. No sign of him. She saw only trees, boulders, a rocky stream.

  Mercy trembled with rage. How could he have vanished? He had flown right beneath her! Her firedrake had burned him! How had he disappeared in the blink of an eye?

  The other paladins dismounted. They gathered around her.

  "He's probably just dead on a rock somewhere," said Sir Lancino, a gruff man with a cleft chin. He snorted. "I say we return home. The weredragon won't bother us no—"

  Mercy stepped toward the paladin and thrust her sword into his neck.

  The man gasped and gurgled. Blood filled his mouth. He twitched, held upright upon her blade.

  Mercy leaned in closer, sneering. "We will not rest until the weredragon is found."

  The other paladins stared, silent. Mercy tugged the blade free. Sir Lancino gave a last gasp, then fell down dead. Mercy spat on his body.

  Good riddance, she thought. The man had been a fool, and she had hated that ridiculous chin of his.

  She turned toward the other paladins and raised her dripping blade. "Now fan out and find him! Find the weredragon, or I'll slay you all. Go!"

  The paladins nodded. Leaving their firedrakes, they began to race between the trees, seeking Cade.

  Mercy marched through the forest, sword raised, the hot blood sticky on her fingers.

  Cade had hurt her. He had escaped her. He would scream with the pain of ten thousand tortured men.

  CADE

  Cade lay on the forest floor, bleeding, head spinning, not sure if he was alive or dead. Smoke and flame rose above him, raining ash. He could see nothing but the inferno.

  "Where is he?" rose the shriek. "Find the boy! Find him!"

  Mercy's voice—no longer fair but twisted with cruelty, dripping bloodlust and rage.

  Cade tried to move. He lifted one arm and grimaced with pain. Welts rose across his skin—burns from his own dragonfire, the blaze he'd blown when still in dragon form. His memory slipped in and out of his mind. He had become human again. He had fallen, crashing through his own fire, hidden within the blaze. He had landed here, bruised and burnt. He was dying. He—

  "Find him!" Mercy roared.

  Firedrakes swooped above, claws reaching through the dispersing smoke. Paladins moved through the forest, boots thumping.

  I have to move.

  Cade tried to rise to his feet, but pain flared through him. He bit down on a scream and fell. He rolled.

  He found himself tumbling down a mountainside, his body slamming against rocks and roots. He crashed into the trunk of a pine, and needles rained down onto him. The firedrakes streamed above, rising and falling from the forest. Trees shattered.

  Up, Cade, he told himself. On your feet. Up!

  He didn't want to rise. He wanted to lie still, to wait for death to take him, to sink into warm forgetfulness, an end to pain.

  Stand up!

  He balled his hands into fists. He could not die here. Not while his family needed him. Little Eliana—he had to help her. He had to move.

  He rose to his feet. His legs swayed, and he began to run.

  The pines shook at his sides, and the shrieks of the firedrakes rose from every direction. He was high in the Dair Ranin mountains, and the air was thin. The slopes were steep, strewn with rocks and thick with pines. The trees thrust out from the mountainsides like green stubble on a giant's stony face. Cade stumbled down the slope toward a fold in the land; the trees were thicker down there, a green cloister, a place of shadows and burrows.

  A white firedrake streamed above, and Cade cursed and leaped under a pine tree, hiding beneath its lower boughs. He peered between needles. The beast swept down the slope, flying only several feet above the treetops. A saddle still rose upon its back, but no rider; perhaps the man had died in the battle, and perhaps he was searching the mountains afoot. Cade shuddered to think that this firedrake itself had once been human, the soul burnt away, the reverse of purification. Now the mindless beast screeched madly. It passed over Cade, the air from its wings rattling the pine he hid under, and dipped toward the gorge. The reptile soared again, crying out, flying off to seek Cade upon another peak.

  When the beast was gone, Cade emerged from under the pine, began walking back down the slope toward the cover of the lower trees, and saw a paladin climbing toward him.

  For an instant, they both froze.

  The paladin stared up at him—a tall, gaunt man, half his head shaven, the other half sporting a mane of long white hair. His heavy plate armor was just as white, the breastplate engraved with a tillvine blossom.

  The paladin reached for his sword.

  Cade grabbed a heavy stone the size of a loaf of bread. He hurled it.

  The paladin opened his mouth to cry out. An instant later, the stone slammed into his chest, knocking him down.

  Cade ran. He leaped down the slope, charging toward the paladin. The man rolled a few feet down, hit a boulder, and began to rise. Cade reached him. He stepped down on the man's blade, pinning the sword to the ground, lifted the same stone he had tossed, and brought it down hard.

  The stone slammed into the paladin's face. Teeth broke loose. Blood spurted.

  Cade did not allow the horror to overcome him. He slammed the stone down again and again, grimacing at the blood, at the crumbling face, the shattering skull, the leaking brain.

  When the man moved no more, Cade dropped the bloodied rock. His body trembled, but he refused to let the fear overcome him.

  I killed a man. I—

  He gritted his teeth.

  Move!

  He ran down the mountainside and finally reached the snaking gully between the slopes. He crashed between the pines, stumbled a hundred yards farther down, and found himself standing in a dried riverbed. To his left and right, mountainsides rose like walls, thick with trees. The forest canopy hid the sky. The riverbed spread ahead, mottled with patches of light; the water was gone now, possibly only flowing in spring when the snow melted. Smooth, mossy stones and a carpet of fallen pine needles covered the riverbed.

  Cade spared a moment to examine his wounds. He winced. When falling through the sky, his own dragonfire had burned holes into his burlap tunic. The skin below was red and raw, and welts covered his arm. Already bruises were spreading across his legs, and cuts and scrapes covered him. Mercy's lance had left an ugly cut on his side, tearing through the skin. His head wouldn't stop spinning, and again the overwhelming urge to lie down filled him.

  He squared his jaw and forced himself to keep walking, to move down the riverbed. He didn't know where he was going, only that he had to keep moving, to put distance between him and the pursuing firedrakes. He heard the beasts still flying above, and their drool pattered down like rain.

  Where do I go? Cade thought.

  Where could he go? He couldn't hope to ever return to his village, not now. The paladins knew about him. They had seen his magic. Soon the High Priestess herself would know that a "weredragon"—a man who had not been purified, who could still become a dragon—lived in the Commonwealth. The Cured
Temple would stop at nothing to find him, to break him, to show the people what happened to those who defied purification.

  I'll never see my family again. Cade's eyes stung, but he kept walking. For now he had to survive, to—

  A firedrake crashed down through the trees above, its scales silver. Cade cursed and leaped for cover, plunging down between a boulder and a leafy brush. The stone pressed against his one side, the leaves against the other.

  The firedrake in the gully screeched, a sound like shattering glass. Its claws uprooted trees. Soil and needles rained down. Crouched low, Cade covered his ears as the firedrake's scream echoed inside the gorge, deafening. Dragonfire blasted out, streaming over Cade's head, bathing him with heat.

  It hasn't seen me, he thought, crouched low. If it saw me, I'd be dead.

  He wanted to shift. By the spirit, he wanted to become a dragon, to charge against the firedrake, to slay it. He dared not. Too many of the beasts flew above the mountains; only by hiding could he hope to survive.

  He pressed himself lower to the ground, trapped between boulder and bush, hidden, daring not even breathe. Wings thudded. Scales clanked. More firedrakes flew down to land in the gorge, snorting and cackling.

  For a moment, Cade heard nothing but the beasts. Then a high, clear voice cried out.

  "Do you hear me, Cade?" It was Mercy's voice, crying out from a stony crest a few hundred yards away. "I know you're here! I found the man you killed. I know you're in these mountains, hiding like a rat."

  Cade remained still, fists tight. He wanted to burst out from hiding, to shift into a dragon, to fly toward her and burn her. He dared not. He had to live. For his family.

  "Come out, Cade!" Mercy cried. "I only want to talk. I don't want to hurt you. I only want to cure you. Come to me, and we'll sit down and talk, and nobody else needs to die."

  He wanted to believe that. Spirit, he did. This day had become a nightmare of such terror he scarcely believed it was happening. If only he could speak to them, work things out . . .

  But no. He knew Mercy was lying. When chasing him in the sky, she had not wanted to talk; there had been death in her eyes. She was here to slay him. Cade remained hidden and silent.

  "Very well!" Mercy said. "If you will not talk here in the mountains, come talk to me in your village. I fly back to Favilla, and I give you an hour to meet me there. If you don't turn yourself in, your family will pay the price. I will see you soon, Cade Baker!"

  The forest shook as firedrakes took flight, air from their wings blasting the trees, sending down a hail of twigs and needles. Smoke filled the sky, and the creatures' shrieks grew distant, finally fading.

  For long moments, Cade remained hidden in the brush. Finally he peeked into the gorge. They were gone.

  He leaned his head against the boulder and closed his eyes.

  What to do?

  Cade sucked in breath, struggling to calm himself.

  Stay calm. Stay calm, Cade. Think. Plan.

  Mercy and the firedrakes were heading back toward the village. If he did not return to confront them, the paladins were likely to burn down his home. Yet if he did return, they would capture him, imprison him, torture him, kill him.

  Stay calm. Think.

  He left the cover of the boulder and brush. Struggling for every breath, he climbed up the mountainside, making his way higher. The slope was steep, forcing him to climb on hands and knees, gripping at roots and stones. Pebbles cascaded from under his knees and elbows, and the air thinned as he climbed. The pines tilted, stretching out from the mountainside, trunks almost horizontal.

  Crack.

  The sound rose behind him—a snapping twig perhaps. Cade spun his head around, staring down the slope.

  Nothing.

  He narrowed his eyes, scanning the landscape, but saw only the rocky slopes sliding down into the forest. Probably an animal, he told himself, and certainly not a paladin; if the paladins saw him here, they'd be charging toward him, not hiding in the brush. He kept climbing.

  Finally he reached a granite peak. He didn't like the idea of rising into the open, free from the cover of the pines, but he decided it was a risk he needed to take. He climbed onto the stony crest and stared down south.

  His breath died. His insides trembled.

  He could see Favilla in the distance, barely visible from here. The firedrakes—he counted eleven of them—were flying toward the village. The paladins rose atop them, their banners streaming. As Cade watched, the firedrakes swooped toward the village . . . and blew their fire.

  "Eliana," Cade whispered, eyes stinging. "Mother. Father."

  Terror thudded through him.

  Mercy was killing them.

  Cade knew what to do. He would fly there. He would fight the paladins and their firedrakes, even if he died in their flames.

  He leaped into the air, shifted into a dragon, and began to fly.

  A shadow leaped from between the trees ahead, small and slender, and Cade caught a flash of red hair. Suddenly a firedrake, its scales orange and red and yellow, was flying toward him. The beast roared, darted forth, and slammed into Cade with a thud.

  Cade bellowed and blasted out dragonfire. Where had this beast come from? The creature—a wild, untamed dragon—dodged his flaming jet. Its claws grabbed him. Its wings beat, shoving him down. The two dragons slammed onto the mountainside, cracking the stone.

  "Stay down, you fool!" the firedrake rumbled. "Do you want to die?"

  Still in dragon form, Cade blinked. Had . . . had this firedrake just spoken to him? Firedrakes couldn't speak. They were just animals, not weredragons like him with the minds of humans.

  "Get off!" he said, struggling and whipping his tail, his back to the mountainside.

  The fiery beast refused to release him. Its claws pinned him down. Its eyes blazed like smelters, and smoke blasted out from its jaws.

  "Shift back into a human!" the firedrake demanded. Cade was surprised to hear it speak with the voice of a young woman. "Now!"

  Cade growled and struggled to free himself. He recognized this firedrake. The other beasts were black or white or metallic, their scales unicolor. But this firedrake had scales in various shades of red, orange, and yellow, giving it the appearance of living flame—Mercy's firedrake. A saddle still topped the beast, but no rider. Had Mercy taken another firedrake down to the village?

  "Get off me now!" Cade growled and slammed his paws against the beast's head.

  He sucked in air, prepared to blow fire, when the firedrake grabbed his head with its claws and slammed it back against the ground.

  Cade felt a scale crack at the back of his head. The pain bolted through him, so powerful it knocked the magic out of him.

  His body shrank. His wings, scales, and claws vanished. He lay on the mountainside, a human again, blinking feebly. He could barely see more than haze and stars. Strangely, he thought he glimpsed a young woman staring down at him, her green eyes peering between tangles of red hair, and then he saw nothing but blackness.

  * * * * *

  When Cade finally awoke, the sun was lower in the sky. He found himself lying on a patch of grass, the branches of pines rustling above him. He blinked, groggy. Where was he? What had happened? Why wasn't he home in bed or—

  The memories pounded into him with the might of fists.

  The paladins. The village. His family.

  He made to leap up, to fly back home, but he couldn't move. When he glanced down, he saw that his limbs were bound to the trees with leather straps. Somebody had bandaged his wounds, then left him tied here.

  Fear flooded Cade. The paladins had captured him. His family was in danger. He growled, tugging at the bonds, unable to free himself. He let out a hoarse cry.

  "Hush!" rose a voice. "Be silent or they'll hear you. Listen to me!"

  He turned his head toward the voice. A young woman sat beside him on a fallen log. She looked to be about his age, maybe a year or two older. He had never seen a stranger person. She wore r
ags—a tattered burlap sack, a rope around her waist, and stockings full of holes, revealing all her toes. Dirt and soot covered her skin. A mane of wild, orange hair thrust out from her head in all directions. The fiery strands fell across her face, hiding most of it. Cade could see little more than a freckled nose, pale cheeks, and green eyes that peered between the tangled strands like fox eyes from within a burrow.

  "Who are you?" Cade said. "Did you tie me here? Release me."

  She shook her head, and her tangled hair swayed. "I can't or you'll fly south. You'll fly to the village and confront the paladins and firedrakes, and they'll kill you."

  "They're killing everyone there now!" he cried, struggling against his bonds. "I don't know who you are, but you must release me."

  She shook her head again.

  Cade growled, closed his eyes, and summoned his magic. He began to shift, growing into dragon form. As his body grew, the straps around his wrists and ankles tightened, shoving him back into human form. His magic fizzled away. With a sinking heart, he realized he could not shift while bound.

  He opened his eyes and looked at the young woman again. Her green eyes stared back from within her tangled hair.

  "Who are you?" he repeated.

  "The name's Domi," she said. "That's all you need to know. Your guardian."

  "Domi," he said patiently, "please. I know you're trying to protect me, but you have to release me. My family is in danger. I must fly to them."

  Her eyes flashed. She leaped up from the fallen log, sailed through the air, and landed right atop him, driving the air out of his chest. Her body pressed against him, her knee drove into his belly, and she snarled down at him. Suddenly she seemed as wild and beastly as a firedrake.

  "And you'll die!" she said, teeth bared. "You almost died up there in the sky. Sheer luck—and some help from a friend—saved you up there. And your luck has now run out. You can't save your family by charging into a hive of firedrakes. How would you serve them by dying too?" She grabbed a fistful of his hair and twisted it painfully. "You're staying here where it's safe!"