Kindle the Flame (Heart of a Dragon Book 1) (16 page)

She held out her hand. “Come,” she said. “I don't know the way, so perhaps it's best if I don't lead us along the paths.”

Ayden stared at her hand and deliberately sidestepped it, giving her a wide berth. “Perhaps it would have been best had you stayed behind then.”

Her hurt silence slammed his eardrums, but he ignored it. Inside, he scourged his half-hidden feelings.
You were thinking about it, weren't you? Her soft fingers and full lips. Your hands in her hair. What then? Will you enjoy watching the gray cracks crease her face, seeing her fall into a fountain of ash right before your eyes?

He spat on the side of the path, anger quickening his pace.
You will always be alone. You should never have let her in, not even a small amount. But you've nudged open the door and now there will be the Great Star to pay for your negligence.

“Ayden.”

He ignored her, his footsteps crashing ahead.

“
Ayden
!”

He jerked around. “What?”

Kinna pointed. “Isn't that the path we're supposed to take?”

To the east, between a gap in the mountains, Ayden could see a large valley, the horizon stretching endlessly onto flat level land. In the skies tiny shapes of Griffons at breathtaking heights circled the Pass, hunting, always hunting.

“Of course it is,” he mumbled. He brushed by her, careful not to touch her, and stomped down the path with her following.

K
inna shifted
beside Ayden where they crouched behind a hedge of bushes. She stretched her legs straight out in front of her. “Tell me again why we have to wait until dark?” she whispered.

Ayden tore his gaze from the pasture before them. “Would you care to be Griffon repast?” He motioned to the skies.

Kinna's gaze followed his hand. Far overhead, what appeared to be small birds glided slowly on the wings of the wind. “Those are Griffons?” she asked in a whisper.

“Indeed. Their night eyes are sharp, but most of them return to their master's fowleries by nightfall. Some don't, however, and we need to be watchful.”

Kinna returned her attention to the cattle that roamed the field. “How are we going to get the cow back to Chennuh, Ayden? One would be far too heavy to drag back.”

“We're not going to drag it. It will walk.”

“We're not killing it?”

“Them. We're not killing them.”

“I thought we were taking only one. You said it was as many as a wolf would pick off...”

“I did say that.” Ayden settled back onto his heels. “But wolves have picked off two or three sometimes as well, and taking two or three will buy us more time before we have to return.”

Kinna laid her hand on his sleeve. “Ayden.”

He jerked away from her as if she had burned him.

“What?” she asked, looking behind her, his reaction startling her.

He shook his head, his heart hammering in his ears. “Just ... don't touch me. I don't like it.”

Her green eyes spilled their hurt thoughts.

“I don't have to have a reason.” Ayden knew he sounded defensive.

She shrugged. “Fine, I apologize. Listen, what if they
do
notice we're taking their animals? What if they send someone after us?”

Ayden shook his head. “They won't. Or if they do, I'll keep them from hurting us.”

Kinna glanced at his bow. “But what's a bow and arrow going to...”

“I said I'd protect us. And I will.” Ayden paused, allowing his gaze to settle on Kinna's green eyes. “I promise.”

She held his gaze for a moment, and a blush washed through her cheeks, darkening them to a beautiful shade.

Ayden's jaw locked as he turned his gaze back to the field and stared at it, unblinking, until day turned to night and there was no light at all.

A
yden shook himself
, stretching out his limbs to return feeling to them. Kinna lay curled up on the ground beside him. He shook her shoulder with his gloved hand. “It's time.”

She roused instantly, her face pale in the light of the stars. The moon was black tonight, however. Ayden was thankful for that.

The Griffondimn had taken in a herd of cattle to their barns, but had released others to stay on the field overnight. Ayden could hear several of the animals near the back corner of the field, chewing their cud with loud, rhythmic chomps. There was a gate to the south not far from the treeline. That was his goal.

He crept forward, keeping to the trees, checking over his shoulder for Kinna.

“So what are we going to do?” she whispered. “Grab a cow and run? How are you going to get one to follow us?”

“I've got a plan,” Ayden hissed. “Shh.” He motioned to the sky. “There may still be a few Griffons up there, and their hearing is keen.”

“Sorry.”

Ayden continued. Kinna swathed an alarming wake behind him as she stepped on every crunching twig and dead leaf in the forest. He whirled. “Kinna!”

She blinked at him. “What?”

“Just stay here, all right? I'll be back in a minute.” He turned and stole away, moving silently from tree to tree. He reached the corner of the fence where the pasture met the rolling land as it sloped down into a Griffon township. Lights glimmered from a few windows in the far distance, but none near the field where the cattle rested lazily in the corner near him.

Taking a deep breath, he ran on silent feet toward the gate. His gloved hand fumbled with the chain that looped around the latch. The leather was too thick, it wouldn't handle the fine links. With a growl of impatience, he yanked his gloves off between his teeth and quickly finished the job. Opening the gate wide, he ran inside, pulling his gloves on again as he strode to the corner.

He counted the dark shapes; about six of them rested there, their heavy bellies smothering the grass, their limpid bovine eyes gleaming as he drew near. He bypassed them, stepping up onto the fence rails and leaning over to grab a tree branch that waved over the fence line.

With a yank and a hard twist, he broke off two long sticks, retreating to the earth again. A deep grunt near the corner whirled his gaze that way, and he saw that one of the cows had risen. It moved with a swinging gait toward the opening Ayden had left in the fence, and Ayden stared transfixed as it found the opening and walked out through it, stopping to graze in the open green grass not far from the treeline.

Well, that was easy.

Perhaps one more, for good measure.

He edged closer to the remaining cattle, brandishing his sticks. He picked the fattest one, who happened to be the one lying closest to him, and he snapped one of the sticks across its hide.

With a snort, the great beast heaved to its feet. Ayden ran his stick along the side of the cow, close to its nose, guiding it toward the gate, and the cow lumbered forward. Just as Ayden thought he was home free, the cow lurched into a run and bypassed the gate, running in a wide circle into the middle of the field.

“No!” Ayden hissed. He checked the skies and pelted after it, easily catching up. He lightly touched his stick to the far side of the cow, turning it again toward the fence and the open gate. The cow lumbered that way, and then once again lurched to the side with a little hop.

Sweat streaked Ayden's forehead. “I'll eat you for supper tonight, see if I don't,” he threatened under his breath. A dark shape rose up on the other side of the cow, and Ayden froze in surprise.

It was Kinna.
Daft girl.

With flapping arms and flying gown, she ran at the cow, and the animal turned again, this time, toward Ayden.

Ayden met it with his sticks and somehow managed to turn the cow once again toward the gate. Kinna ran on one side of it, Ayden on the other, and this time, the cow went through the opening.

They stopped at the gate, their sides heaving. The cow slowed, nearing the other freed animal, and dropped its head to graze alongside it.

“Next time, I say we bring rope,” Kinna whispered between pants.

“Right. Because we have so much of it lying around.”

“We can make some.”

“We'll be sure and do that.” Ayden pulled one side of the gate to center, then grabbed the other end of it, pulling his gloves off of his hands again as he fingered the chain and looped it.

“Oy!”

The shout rang out from the far end of the field, and Ayden jerked his head up, searching the darkness. A shadowy form sprinted toward them.

“Run!” he hissed, reaching to push Kinna, jerking his hand back in horror as he realized his bare hand had almost touched her—her dress, so she would have been fine, but it was too close for comfort. He could
not
be around her. He had to replace the distance he had tried to maintain. His gloves had dropped to the ground; he couldn't see them in the darkness.

The figure rapidly moved closer, and his grunts of exertion increased in volume as he sprinted up the hill. Kinna stumbled toward the woods, Ayden right on her heels. The cattle, also startled, crashed toward the trees as well.

A rope whistled past Ayden's ear, lashing Kinna's back, hurling her to the ground. A muffled cry tore from her mouth, and Ayden twisted as he reached out, tangling with the whip. The man stood three spans away, jerking backward on the other end of the rope. “Trying to steal my cattle! I'll teach you a lesson you won't forget.” The whip released Ayden's arm, the rough fibers burning through his shirt, and snaked around again, stinging Ayden's chest and stomach. The end of it snapped Kinna's face, and she jerked her hands up to cover it, her cry echoing in the darkness.

“Stay back!” Ayden yelled.

“Who be ye t'tell me to back off from me own property?” The man swung the whip around again, but Ayden's hand snarled the fibers, and he yanked down, hard. He checked Kinna's position; she crawled toward the woods, hampered by her gown.

“Oh no, ye don't!” The man threw his heavy weight onto Kinna's back, flattening her into the grass. One arm raised over his head, and even in the dim blackness, Ayden recognized the dark outline of a long dagger.

“No!” Ayden launched himself at the man, knocking him free of Kinna's back, grappling for the dagger. His bare fingers wrapped around the man's grip, and Ayden's heart sank as once again, his curse stole another man's life, this time in the sight of the person whose opinion shouldn't matter, but did.

After a moment he sat up, brushing the ashes from his clothing, his chest heaving from exertion and emotional pain.

“Kinna.” His voice sounded strangled. He searched the shadows for her. He found her where she crouched near the corner of the fence, her eyes huge and terrified. Not of the situation, not from fear of being caught.

Fear of him.

“I—I'm sorry.”

She didn't answer; she stared past him in mesmerized shock at the place where the man had been, where only his clothes, the whip, and the dagger remained now.

Ayden swallowed his despair and returned to the gate, retrieving his gloves and pulling them on over his sleeves. He picked up the whip and the man's remaining clothes on the way back, bundling the material into a pack and slinging the whip over his shoulder. He slid the dagger into his belt beside his other one. Then he bypassed Kinna, returning to the silence of the woods where he found his bow and arrows and the two cattle relatively close to each other. He slung the rope of the whip over the neck of one cow, leading it along. The other cow naturally followed its partner.

Ayden tromped into the wood, leading the way, listening to the distant footfalls of Kinna, who followed far behind with fear in her breath.

C
edric ran
his hand along his collar, still unused to the feel of fine wool, though it had been two months since he had come to live in the King's palace. Eight whole weeks of pulling the Dragons from their dens on a daily basis, taking them to the Tournament fields, testing their capabilities with the other Dimn. It had truly been an uphill climb for him, not only to learn the ins and outs of his responsibilities, but to learn society in a world where there was more than himself and a solitary Centaur. People were often rude or gruff to one another, though they bowed when he gave them orders.

Besides his new responsibilities, he also spent at least two hours in the Dragondimn training yard each evening, sharpening nearly non-existent weapons skills. The King had not required it, but the other men’s withering glances at his clumsy sword-handling drove him to the weaponry. He was determined to keep his head attached to his neck, so he fought tooth and nail to rise to the top of Sebastian's expectations. His sword replaced his sling, and chain mail often covered his tunic.

He felt like a fresh-faced toddler when it came to the Dragons. Though the beasts always obeyed a direct order from him, he couldn't be around every Dragon in the King's armies all the time, so the King had delegated to him the responsibility of training the Dimn to each Dragon. The only trouble was, he had no knowledge of Dragons beyond what Shaya had told him. He spent the first weeks unrolling the scrolls in the King's library, seeking information on the four different kinds.

What he found was useful. For example, Dragons had a penchant for eating metals. Iron, gold, copper, anything the palace happened to have on hand. The Dragons considered the substances a treat, which saved many goats, sheep, and cows from slaughter. The smaller animals had erstwhile been killed in droves as treats until Cedric found the notation on a dusty scroll that had been hiding on a corner shelf in the library. Since abundant copper in particular streaked the hills around The Crossings, he instigated the practice of feeding the ore to the Dragons, with immediate, pleasing results: the Dragons grew more responsive and amenable to training.

As the weeks passed, Cedric slid into the rhythm of society. It wasn't without its flaws; he often drifted to sleep wishing for the lonely howl of the wind in the Dwellings, but each day he learned more.

Twenty Dragondimn took orders from him. Most were his seniors by at least ten years, and Cedric felt their animosity toward the idea of this seventeen-year-old-boy-just-become-a-man lording his authority over them. Cedric hadn't wanted to have authority over anyone; but Sebastian's demands presented a growing problem.

Two of the Dragondimn were his own age, and though they showed no extra friendliness toward him, Cedric appreciated their ready willingness to do the things he requested.

Jack-Boy was one—his internship at the palace had run out when he turned seventeen, but rather than return to the Dragon Clan as his mother had requested, he had decided to stay on to serve the King at the palace.

Natan was the other. He had arrived in the palace a month before Cedric and was still learning how to approach the beasts with care.

Cedric straightened his shoulders as he headed toward the Dragondimn quarters. They bunked in a side wing of the palace, a short walk from a back entrance into the dungeons and the tunnels to the Dragon dens. The bite of winter crept beneath Cedric's cloak, and he shivered. A small part of him wished for his caves of the Rockmonster Dwellings and a roaring fire lighting Shaya's face as she curled beside him, telling him stories.

But those days were gone.

He was here, now. In the palace. The King's own Dragon-Master. And the King's Dragons must be trained for battle. His jaw tightened. The only reason the King had made him Dragon-Master was because he could command the Dragons with a word. Sebastian had been impressed. Cedric had seen the King intently observing his practice sessions with the Dragons. If a session passed where Cedric did not give a direct command to a Dragon, the King called him into his presence later and reminded him to do so at the next session.

Cedric could understand the King's fascination with his gift. He surprised even himself with it. What he couldn't understand was why the King placed so much responsibility on his shoulders. He possessed far less skill than most of the palace Dimn.

And they knew it.

Cedric ran his fingers through his hair and braced himself as he pushed the door open. The men reclined on their bunk beds in various states of undress. Dislike settled across their faces when they saw Cedric.

“I apologize for the early hour, Dimn,” Cedric began. It wasn't
that
much earlier, but he refused to let the details get in his way. “We have a new Dragon today, captured in the Forgotten Plains and brought north for our training pleasure. He's an Ember. And from the looks of things, it will take a good deal of patience to tame this one. Let's convene on the Tournament fields one hour hence. Natan and Jack-Boy, you will please accompany me back to the Dragon dens right now.”

The two boys followed Cedric out the door and back up the path to the arched entryway.

Cedric led them down the hall and climbed to the next floor where he entered his chambers.

Natan and Jack-Boy glanced around in surprise, their looks guarded.

Cedric closed the heavy door and sank into a chair near his table. He nervously licked his lips. “Have a seat.” He waved his hand at the other chairs.

Natan did so, but Jack-Boy refused to sit. “Why are we brought to my lord's chambers?”

Cedric poured himself a drink and then filled two other goblets, pushing them toward the boys. He gathered his courage and cleared his throat. “For no other reason than the fact that I—I'd like to have friends.”

The boys stared at Cedric and then at each other. “Friends, my lord?” Jack-Boy's mouth twisted into a grin. “You want friends among the Dimn?”

Heat rose in Cedric's cheeks. “Of course. Wouldn't you?”

“But you're the Dragon-Master, an honor bestowed by the King's own hand.” Natan picked up his goblet and took a drink, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Are you using us to spy on the others?”

“No!” Cedric hastened to explain. “No, not at all. I've watched you both. You seem responsible, hardworking, and trustworthy.”

Jack-Boy smirked. “You trust
us
, my lord?” He belted out a hearty laugh. “Why?”

Cedric took a sip, allowing the silence to settle before he answered. “Because I've got a sense about people. I can tell which ones are the good ones.”

Natan snorted. “Right. M'lord jests.” Despite the shaky beginning, the tension in the room eased.

Cedric drew a breath of relief and raised his glass in salute. “If I do, doesn't laughter improve every occasion?”

By the time the hour had rolled by and it was time to repair to the Tournament fields, Cedric felt better about his knowledge of the men over whom he was responsible. Natan and Jack-Boy, while not divulging much of the bunkhouse chatter, had conveyed a sense of what the men felt for Cedric, their attitude toward him, and the root of the disturbance.

The trouble lay, as he had suspected, mostly in a man named Gustav, the largest of Cedric's Dimn by far, but also the only one who cast a friendly smile at Cedric whenever he appeared. It was that very smile that put Cedric on his guard. Something about the slanted glances the man sent his way caused Cedric discomfort. He wondered if he should cut the man from his troupe, but he couldn't find anything to prove Gustav's untrustworthiness.

Cedric stood on the observation platform of the same Tournament field where he had faced the Poison-Quill and the other Ember two months previously. He gripped the railing as the Dragondimn poured from the tunnel. The exercise he'd planned for today was one he'd found in a scroll dedicated to an Ember's training, but as the Dimn lined up below the platform, he wondered if he should have started with something easier. He'd watched the Dragon arrive at the palace on the end of a hundred chains, and he didn't want to lose any Dimn to the new creature. He swept aside his uncertainty and raised his voice.

“Today's challenge, Dimn, will be to bring me one flaming scale from the tail of this new Ember, specifically from the tip where it can feel no pain. Under no circumstances are you to remove scales from any other part of the Ember's body. The winner will join me tonight at the King's table. I shall look forward to your efforts. Have at it.”

The Dimn glanced at one another. In the two months since he'd begun, he had never issued an order. Generally, his requests came as just that: requests with a question mark at the end. Today was the first day he'd commanded them to do something.

Gustav stood in the back, his arms crossed over his barrel chest. “Where is the Dragon, m'lord?”

“He awaits you in the arena.” The Ember had been waiting since before daybreak. Cedric had risen early and opened the Dragon's den, coaching the beast out into the corridor and along the dark hallways until he reached the door. He'd commanded the Dragon to exit into the cold morning air, still awed that the creature listened to his words. He wasn't sure how or why he possessed this talent, but he was thankful for it.

He thought of the concept of
psuche.
His connection with the beasts fell far short of true
psuche.
He couldn't understand a Dragon's moods, thoughts, or feelings. They couldn't comprehend his.

His gift seemed to sit halfway between a normal Dimn's and a
psuche
. And it related to
all
Dragons, not only one.

A crust of light snow had dusted the area the night before, but the Ember had burned through it as he crossed the short distance to the arena.

Cedric sighed. He wished he could figure out why the Dragons would listen—most of the time—to a direct command from him. His gift made little sense, but he intended to find out more.

Natan led the way, followed immediately by Jack-Boy, who glanced up at Cedric with a lop-sided grin. Cedric smothered a spark of jealousy. Truth be told, he'd rather be down in the arena with the rest of them than up here on the stand, the object of the men's dislike. Leadership nearly always put one in the path of ill wishes.

The rest of the Dimn soon filed into the arena, and Cedric leaned on the railing of the observation platform to watch their techniques and tuck away information to be used in later training sessions.

The Ember had been nosing in one of the far corners, his snout burning through trees and shrubs as he scraped the earth. As soon as he sensed the presence of visitors, he turned his head toward the Dimn and hurled a huge ball of fire in their direction. It landed just short, licking the ledge below them.

Cedric had learned enough of Embers to know that the miss was a warning. Embers simply did not miss.

Jack-Boy was the first to move. He dove down the steep central path, skidding and slipping, to the center. The Ember moved with reptilian swiftness to the opposite corner of the field, his eye cast down into the narrow path. Jack-Boy reached the first divot, and he dove inside as the Ember hurled another fireball his way, the flames licking the ground where the boy had stood only seconds earlier.

The other men now fanned out to various ledges across the field, and the Dragon was distracted. He barreled toward one of the Dimn, his fiery talons swiping at the man. The claw caught the man and dashed him against the stone wall, where he crumpled and lay still. Cedric eyed the Dimn. Blood oozed from a wound in his cheek, and as far as Cedric could tell, no breath moved in his chest.

More Dimn rushed the Dragon, their weapons drawn. Two of the men reached the Dragon's scales, their swords clanging against the creature's torso before the Ember blasted them both with fire. They dropped over the ledges to the central path below, their cloaks smoldering and glowing.

Cedric shook his head. They knew better than to attack the body. They should have gone for the tail. He had instructed them
explicitly
to bring him a scale from the Dragon's tail.

During the mad rush, Natan had crept around the perimeter, hugging the wall. If the Dragon's eye moved his way, he crouched, hiding beneath his dark cloak. Too many other distractions kept the Ember's attention elsewhere. Natan drew his sword.

The Dragon turned his head at the metallic ring, and he roared. Jack-Boy flew out of the chute, arcing his sword over his head and dragging the tip across the Dragon's torso. He charged off in the opposite direction as burning heat chased his heels. He dove beneath a rock as the flame roared by him.

The Dragon searched for more intruders, but he needn't have worried. During Jack-Boy's invasion, Natan had clambered astride the Dragon's tail and neatly flipped his sword beneath a scale, tearing it off. He rammed the tip of his sword into the soft underside of the loose scale, waving it aloft as he ran for the exit. The men who were not knocked senseless or who still hid in what shelter they could find cheered, surging for the door, lifting Natan onto their shoulders, as well as Jack-Boy, whose diversion had allowed for the victory.

“Well done!” Cedric slammed his hand on the railing, lost in boyish excitement. He abruptly covered his enthusiasm, propping one fist on his hip as he surveyed the Dimn. Gustav hunched in the back, his hands on his knees. He had been one of the ones to get scraped aside by the Ember's talons. When he glanced up at Cedric, a flash of hatred lit his eyes. He masked it immediately, but Cedric had seen it.

All he sees is an outsider weaseling into the spot he wanted.

Cedric pushed the thought to the back of his mind for later inspection. “A job well done, Dimn. Repair to the dens and bring out the rest of the Dragons. We'll work with them throughout the day. Natan and Jack-Boy, you will dine with me at the King's table tonight.”

The Dimn pounded the two boys on their shoulders, issuing cries of approval. A happy smile creased Natan's face, and Jack-Boy crowed his victory song.

Cedric grinned. It would be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. He was sure of it. The lonely boy inside of him raised a shout of glee.