Book of One 04: A Child of Fire Page 4

  CHAPTER THREE

  The dusty smell of hay filled his nostrils and he felt the tickle of a twig of the dry grass and snorted, sneezing it out with a puff of smoke. Borrican opened his eyes in a panic, worried that something might be on fire and leapt to his feet, bashing his head on one of the heavy wooden beams inside the barn. He looked around and everything seemed small, the empty stalls for the horses, the farm tool leaned against the far wall, it all looked as though it were made for tiny people like the mythical fae folk his mother had told him stories about when he was a child. Borrican blinked and took a deep breath, focusing his thoughts, and he realized that it was not the barn that was small, but it was he, who was large, much larger than a man. He was still a dragon.

  The memories of the battle, the death of his uncle and father, his fight with Cerric and his escape into the night, flooded into his mind and the fire within him smoldered with anger and frustration. Through the cracks between the rough hewn boards of the barn walls, Borrican could see that the sun had risen and he lumbered forward, pushed open the doors and stepped out into the light of the day. The bright sun blinded him for a moment with the intensity of his sharpened senses and he could hear countless sounds and smell numerous scents in the air. Small animals cowered in the nearby grasses and the sound of feathered wings of birds faded as they fled from the monstrous predator that had suddenly appeared on the abandoned farm.

  Borrican realized how conspicuous he was in dragon form and thought it might be best if he changed back to being a man, but he was not sure exactly how to do it. He sat down in the yard outside the farmhouse and closed his eyes, remembering how he had turned into a dragon, letting his anger and fire fill him to the brim. Perhaps if he did the opposite, he might change back. Borrican breathed deeply, focusing on calming the flames that smoldered deep within him and he pictured himself transforming into his old self. A few moments later, he opened his eyes and saw his shadow, cast on the ground before him, still in the shape of dragon. Frustrated, he shuffled his clawed feet beneath him and tried again, this time determined that he should succeed. He pictured himself standing in the yard of the farm, his skin smooth with no scales, his fingers long and thin with no claws, just fingernails, like a normal person, like he had always been, but the fire still burned deep within him. Borrican knew it was not going to work. He was stuck in dragon form.

  "Damn," he cursed, or at least that was what he meant to say, but it came out as a growl. At least that was what he heard. He tried to say a few more words. "I am Borrican Akandar, Prince of Kandara." Again, the thoughts and words he meant to say came out as snarling growls and roaring bellows. Borrican was frustrated. His father and uncle had been able to speak when they were in their changed forms. Borrican even remembered speaking the night before, when he had fought Cerric, and when he had yelled at his brother. Borrican knew something was wrong, but he was distracted from his worries by movement.

  A flight of small birds that had been hiding in a stand of trees nearby, startled by the sounds of a dragon growling, flitted away to another group of trees further away. Borrican heard each of them, their tiny wings beating the air, tiny morsels that might make for a snack. His stomach rumbled and he realized he was very hungry. Without even thinking, Borrican leapt into the air and with a few powerful flaps of his wings, he was soaring skyward, scanning the ground for prey. He flew past a few farms, which were uninhabited except for a few chickens, and made his way toward a dense forest that spread out toward the foothills and the mountain ranges that surrounded most of Kandara.

  Through the foliage below, he spotted several deer and he picked out a sizeable one and tucked his wings in tight to his heavy, scaled body, diving from the sky. The trees snapped like twigs as he tore through them, coming down directly on top of the deer and grabbing it with the claws of his feet, killing it in an instant. Borrican leapt with his powerful legs, up over the trees and beat his wings, flying away with the deer limp in his grasp. He saw a clearing ahead and dropped from the sky once more, spreading his wings to slow his descent and coming to a landing. Within moments, he had torn the head off the animal with one of his sharp claws and he picked up the rest of it and stuffed it into his mouth. His powerful jaw crushed the bones and flesh between his teeth and blood dripped from the corners of his mouth as he chewed the deer to pieces. He swallowed the mass of meat, fur and bones and licked the blood from his face, snorting with satisfaction. It was only after his hunger had subsided that Borrican realized what he had done.

  It was not so much that he had eaten a deer, since he had certainly hunted game many a time and enjoyed many a feast, but the fact that he had killed the animal without even realizing he was doing it. His hunger had overwhelmed his senses and the dragon part of him had taken over. Borrican worried that it might get worse, the longer he remained in this form, the more he might lose himself to the dragon. He would have to find a way to change back, and soon, but first he was determined to find out if Ariana and the people of Kandara had managed to escape the city. He leapt skyward again and angled toward the mountain range that ran westward from the capital city, searching for any signs of his people, hoping they had made it to safety.

  *****

  The trees of the forest whispered that someone was coming and Ariana held up her hand, signaling a halt. The countless murmurs and voices from the long train of people behind her on the mountain path made it somewhat pointless to try to maintain any kind of stealth. Still, she thought, it would not do to attract unnecessary attention in case Cerric had sent scouts out to look for them. No doubt he would have noticed that so many of the people had escaped the city. Ariana slid her mask to the side of her face and looked at the mass of people who now stood waiting on the trail among the evergreens, clutching their most precious belongings, worried what might happen next.

  The trees whispered a note of reassurance, that whomever or whatever was approaching was not a danger and, a few moments later, Quenta and a large group of elves emerged from the forest, accompanied by a force of Maramyrian soldiers, some on horseback, some on foot. Ariana was pleased to see some familiar faces, Nathas and Kaleb among them and, with Keira and Margo on either side of her, she walked out to greet them.

  "Quenta, Nathas, Kaleb," she said. "I am glad to see you have made it to safety.

  "Ariana," Quenta said from behind his mask. "This battle was lost before it was begun. The traitor, young King Elric, has given away that which his people fought for, and betrayed his house, his honor and those of us who came to the aid of this land. It was a mistake for us to become involved in this."

  "I don't know, Quenta," Kaleb said. "I suspect that all of these people here might be fairly grateful to the elves for all their help."

  "And what of these people?" Quenta asked, looking at the countless Kandarans who filled the mountain trail. He shifted his gaze to Ariana, staring at her intently from behind his mask. "What will you do now?"

  "Their land has been taken and it is no longer safe for them," Ariana said. "We must give them refuge."

  "We must?" Quenta's tone was skeptical, and almost hostile.

  "It is the right thing to do," Ariana said. "It is the honorable thing to do."

  "We shall see," Quenta said. "I have seen enough of Kandaran honor to place little trust in it. They seem to me a cowardly people."

  "They are a peaceful people, Quenta. They have lived under the protection of their lords. You saw how powerful they were."

  "And yet most of them are dead."

  Nathas and Kaleb shared a look and it was obvious that they wanted to intercede, but they knew it was not their place to challenge the words of the elven prince, though their young queen, appeared to be holding her own.

  "Do not make light of their sacrifices, Quenta," Ariana said sharply. "They died bravely, defending the honor of their people, as you should hope to do someday."

  Quenta did not miss the insult and Ariana wondered if she should have added that last part. She had hoped to build a
bridge with her cousin, some agreement of mutual respect, though anything more than that seemed unlikely. It would not help their relations to provoke him, but she had to stand up to him. Hopefully they would not stand at odds over every issue.

  "Do what you must, Ariana," Quenta told her. "We will discuss this matter at Elvanar. I will ride ahead and bring word to the court of your proposal."

  Ariana cursed inwardly. Quenta was counting on her to remain behind to lead the people to safety, while he would arrive at Elvanar before her and have ample time to tell the story from his perspective and build a consensus against her among the people and the members of the elven court.

  "I will accompany you then," Ariana said. "While it would be the honorable thing to escort these people safely to our border, there is a practical value in making arrangements with our people ahead of their arrival."

  Quenta stared at her from behind the mask, saying nothing for a moment.

  "You are wiser than you seem," Quenta told her. "We will stay and guard this procession from whatever dangers may still lurk in the shadows."

  Ariana enjoyed a moment of jubilation over her small victory, but such feelings were cut short by a fearful warning from the trees. Quenta and the other elven warriors heard it as well and they drew their swords, ready for an attack. A moment later a shadow passed over them and, overhead, they saw the great wings of a dragon, circling around then swooping down toward the trail. The ground rumbled from its weight as the beast folded its wings just above the treetops and dropped the last distance to the trail ahead.

  "It is all right," Ariana said. "It is Borrican, the prince of Kandara."

  The dragon stood upon the trail, almost filling the space between the trees on either side of it, staring at the elves, the soldiers and the many people behind them. Ariana walked forward, with Margo and Keira following, but she raised her hand and bid them stay. The two warriors fell back. They had both seen Borrican's uncle and father in their different forms, fighting for Kandara and they were less fearful than the rest of the people. Still, even though Borrican was not as large as his father had been as a dragon, his size was nonetheless intimidating and he looked far more dangerous.

  Borrican saw Ariana walking toward him and he fought the many feelings that flooded into his mind. He was relieved to see that so many of his people had made it safely out of the city, and that they were accompanied by so many with sharp steel, who would guard them. The knowledge that they were in good hands allowed him to let go of those worries, but in doing so, he felt himself succumbing to his dragon self, which was becoming ever more consumed with the fire that burned deep within him. He scented the fear from the people, those he was sworn to protect, and he scented the antagonism from the Elves, who he knew did not like him. More powerful upon his senses was her scent, sweet and intoxicating, stirring up feelings that threatened to overwhelm him. He took a step back, fighting for control over his dragon self, which became that much harder with every step she took nearer to him.

  Ariana saw him step away and looked up at him, past the gloss black armor of his scales and the ridged leather of his skin stretched tight over powerful muscle, past the razor sharp claws and leathery wings, and past the jagged fangs that protruded from the dragon mouth, to his reptilian eyes that stared at her. She felt a power rise within her and recognized the feeling of the gift Borrican's father had entrusted to her. It was like the slow burning coals in the forge of a smithy brought to life by the press of the bellows. It was a power to which she was still growing accustomed and she felt it call out to the dragon, with a primal heat that made her skin flush and her breathing deepen.

  "Ariana," Borrican said, trying to speak, but he could tell that his words came out as a growl from his dragon mouth.

  "Borrican," Ariana replied. "You are safe. I feared for you, that Cerric might have harmed you."

  Borrican was not sure if she could understand him or if she was merely speaking.

  "Can you hear my words?" he asked.

  "No," Ariana said then paused to think for a moment. "I can hear your thoughts. Why can you not speak?" It was strange that she knew the sounds coming from his mouth were guttural growls yet she could hear his voice clearly in her mind.

  "I do not know, but I do not have much time. I awoke this day trapped in this form and with every passing moment, I become less myself and more of a beast. I must not stay here. I fear what I might do if I lose myself completely."

  "No, Borrican," Ariana said. "You must stay with me. We can find a solution together. Perhaps the elves might know some way to help you." She walked toward him.

  "No, Ariana," Borrican said, lowering his head to look at her. "My time is short. Thank you for saving my people. Please tell the elves and your commanders that the House of Akandra and the land of Kandara is in their debt. I must leave now for I can smell the fear and sense the hatred coming from them and it stirs the thoughts of the beast, making we want to attack, which I do not wish to do. I am a danger to you and to everyone here, and I would not put you, or our people and our allies in such danger. I never wish to harm you."

  "Fight those thoughts, Borrican," Ariana said, taking another step closer, so close that she could almost reach out and touch his horned and scaled dragon face. She wanted to touch him and she raised her hand, but Borrican flinched and shuffled away, just out of her reach.

  "I am fighting," he yelled angrily, his emotions growing hotter.

  Keira and Margo gripped their weapons ready to spring forward as the dragon roared angrily at Ariana, its sharp teeth barely an arm's length from her. They could tell from Ariana's words that she was able to speak with Borrican, but they could not understand what he was saying, but his posture toward the princess looked truly menacing.

  "You spent time with his uncle," Keira said.

  "Only recently," Margo told her. "We met during a battle some days ago."

  "I sense that something is different about Borrican, compared with his uncle and father. I did not have this feeling of threat as I do now."

  "It is true," Margo said. "Something is wrong."

  "If he turns on her, we must do what we can to defend her."

  "Agreed. I do not think he would. Boric told me his nephew is in love with her. He was hoping they would marry."

  "Such a thing would shatter more than a few masks at the elven court," Keira said. "I cannot imagine it, even a half-elf and a dragon, let alone a member of the House of Solari."

  "Do your people hate dragons?" Margo asked.

  "It is not hatred," Keira said, though she wondered if some of her people might allow their apprehension to become thus. "They are creatures of fire, and we are of the forest."

  "I see your point," Margo said. "Here come the rest of your people."

  Margo gestured over her shoulder at Quenta and a number of the elven warriors who were now approaching, along with Nathas and Kaleb, all of them with their swords drawn, ready to attack. Borrican roared again and smoke billowed around Ariana as she stood firm in front of his seeming rage. Keira and Margo were both surprised when the princess reached out a hand toward him and the dragon pulled away while snapping his jaws as though he might attack. Borrican lifted his great, horned head up to the sky and bellowed, his thunderous roar shaking the trees. He turned back to Ariana and the look in his eyes was predatory and dangerous. The two warrior women ran forward, to defend the princess, but the dragon flexed his powerful legs then leapt into the sky, and with a few powerful strokes of his wings, he ascended over the treetops and was gone.

  "Squirrel," Keira said, arriving at Ariana's side only a moment faster than Margo. "Are you harmed?"

  Ariana turned slowly and the two women saw the tears in her eyes.

  "He is afraid," she said. "He is afraid of hurting us, of hurting me, so he has fled."

  "Why would he hurt you?" Margo asked.

  "He cannot change back and his dragon essence consumes him," Ariana explained. She slid her mask over to cover her face as the rest o
f the soldiers gathered around her. "Borrican struggles with his dragon form and does not wish to put anyone here at risk. The prince of Kandara asked me to thank you for defending his people and acknowledges the debt to the kingdoms of Elvanar and Maramyr for their aid."

  "You could understand him?" Nathas asked.

  "Yes," Ariana said. "King Eric, gifted me with that power before he died. It seems that I am the only one who can hear his words now, but Borrican has sent himself into exile, to spare us."

  "But will he return?" Quenta asked. "If the dragon takes over completely, will we have to contend with his as an enemy?"

  "I do not know the future," Ariana said, " but Borrican is gone and he intends to put as much distance between himself and those he cares about, to ensure such a thing will not happen."

  "Then we had best get moving," Kaleb suggested. "I don't claim to know what he is going through, but if Borrican thinks he is dangerous, then I am inclined to believe him."

  "Agreed," Quenta said and turned away from Ariana, whose tearful eyes he found disgusting. Why anyone would feel a moment of sorrow over a fire breathing beast, was beyond him, and he decided that if the dragon dared come anywhere near the elven forests, he would dispatch the creature without hesitation, regardless of whatever feelings his weakling of a cousin might have.

  *****

  Borrican soared high into the sky over the foothills that butted up against the mountains. He knew he could not head west, for that would bring him to the land of the elves, where Ariana was leading his people. He thought about flying east, to the lands of Xalla, where he could at least retaliate against those who had attacked his kingdom, but he knew that even in such a place, there would likely still be many innocent people who would suffer. No, the only direction he could think of that might offer him some solitude was north, over the mountains and into the frozen wastes, where few had dared travel and none had ever returned.