I am Dragon (Dragon Fires Rising Book 2) Marc Secchia (most read books .TXT) 📖

Dragon arranged his little Humans to his satisfaction. The Princess would take his neck, of course. They fastened the King to a stretcher and perched him atop his shoulders, alongside the spine spikes, before slinging ropes about his chest to fasten him in place.

“Up top,” he ordered. “Nurse, seamstress, Ranger, in that order. Get yourselves tied on.”

“We … fly?”

Chanize’s little brain had evidently just turned up the right conclusion. About time.

“I’d attach wings to your wheelchair if I could,” he said. “I’m sorry if this is second best.”

“Second best?” Her eyes grew round and shiny.

He said, “I’ll carry your wheelchair in my paw, for when we arrive on the other side. Now, milady, paw up?”

He delivered a speechless young woman into the Sankir’s capable hands. Farizam helped her to settle on a temporary pad and took the seat right behind her. Both women’s hearts thrashed madly as he checked they were secure, and then, with a gruff warning, he stepped up the stairs and climbed up onto the dark battlements. No launch that would jolt the King. Various gasps ensued as he gripped with his talons, testing the rising winds. Tailwind. This promised to be a good flight.

Turning to check over his shoulder, he growled, “Sankir, you’ll need to call directions. Everyone, hold on tight. I’ll be flying very fast. Sankir, you’re responsible for that girl in front of you. Forgive me, but for the sake of her balance, I’d prefer you hold her firmly about the waist.”

You old fraud! Azania snorted fondly.

The dark-haired Islander’s face was a study in angst.

“Dragon’s orders!”

Without waiting to see what the man would do, he tipped forward from the battlements and spread his wings upon the breeze. They had a King to save.

* * * *

Pumping his wings with all his strength, he shot out over the channel dividing Human Isle from the Dragon one. There was only a small enclave of Humanity on this first large island of the Archipelago’s Dragon paw; it was the most populous but also the poorest Archipelago. The King had been of the opinion that Jenarzam might have been coerced by the other three Lords, but that his actions might be forgivable – possibly. Of the four, his death had been desired the least.

A Dragon appreciated such a codicil.

Gazaram had merited no such special treatment. Fancy trying to hurl a youngling to his death for the sake of a feint? Despicable. Aria had rescued the boy, but many other soldiers, servants and several Rangers had perished. Two Dragonesses had not survived the battle.

About ten minutes into the flight, he checked back over his shoulder and called, “Chanize?”

“You know my name?” she gasped. Despite the very late hour – perhaps three hours before dawn now, he estimated – the girl appeared quite awake.

“Of course I do. I take pains to learn the names of all my valuable captives.” He grinned. “Just teasing. Good flight? Comfortable?”

“Aye, thank you, uh … Dragon?”

“Is the Sankir holding you properly, Chanize? Do you feel quite safe?”

Her medium green eyes brightened. Not that it was possible for a fireless Human, but he was quite sure he detected a spark in there. Or was that just a glint of reflected starlight?

“I am quite scared, Dragon.”

“Sankir! You are failing in your duty,” he grumbled.

The man guffawed, “More of those ‘Dragon’s orders,’ eh?”

“Let me advise you to obey,” the desert Princess put in, wide-eyed. “He gets incredibly grumpy, otherwise. He’s also a complete tyrant when it comes to arranging matters to his satisfaction.”

Dragon said, “Could not have said it better myself.”

After a second, the girl pressed her head against Farizam’s chest, and his hands tightened about her waist. He might not have been aware, but his habitually soldierly expression softened, and his nostrils flared slightly as he took in the girl’s scent. Beneath his body, he made a surreptitious fist pump.

Win goes to the Dragon.

One more thing. With a displeased huff of hot air, he said, “Chanize, I dislike bonds of servitude. Would you like me to petition King Varazim on your behalf to have you released from Lord Gazaram’s service?”

“I … I could not ask such a thing.”

“Would it make you happy?”

“Over the moons!”

“That’s good enough for this Dragon.”

Chapter 33: Sunshine

COMPARED TO LORD GAZARAM’S architectural monument to a misshapen desert cactus, Lord Jenarzam’s castle was positively homely. A broad, tan-coloured rough pentagon, it enclosed a hilltop commanding a view of Seal Bay, a sparkling teal estuary that played home to an estimated fifty thousand playful silver seals. They could play right down his throat, mmm. Tasty. Beyond the bay lay a further sprinkling of black-tipped coastal mountains, their green grassy sides dipping at dizzying angles into the bay and the Lumis Ocean beyond. Tan coastal plains surrounded the castle, but soon gave way to the tumbling, flower-festooned tropical vegetation he was starting to take a fancy to.

Gorgeous view.

Right on top of the broad, flat top of the Lord’s gatehouse, a chunky white Dragon was busy deciding if he could be bothered to shift his chunky backside a smidgen to better enjoy Taramis’ brilliant white glare. Nah. Too much like actual effort.

“Refreshments, my Lord Dragon?”

Ah, that would be his private butler. What a wonderfully civilised notion.

One might almost argue that Lord Jenarzam’s apology was hitting its full stride. Eye to the future and all that. He had good taste. Talking about taste, he idly picked over the offerings and treated his gullet to a nine-foot length of moray eel roasted to perfection. Succulent.

“Do convey my compliments to the cook,” he rumbled. “The fare is excellent.”

“I shall, sir. Would sir like anything else?”

If sir had not been feeling so lazy, he might have bitten the earnest middle-aged man for calling him sir,