I am Dragon (Dragon Fires Rising Book 2) by Marc Secchia (famous ebook reader TXT) 📕

“In which case, I should change the dressings at once. Come aside with me, Princess.”

Dragon gave him a look promising instant death. Astonishing how rapidly his superior attitude evaporated. With a meek bob of his head, the surgeon scurried off to do his duty.

Murder was too good for that man. Now, what form of slow torture would be most enjoyable? Evisceration? Stake him out for the desert ants and vultures? Pickle his eyeballs and serve them up with a tangy garnish of –

Dragon, behave yourself.

Gnarr, he complained mildly. Why do Humans make such a fuss over milk glands?

Exasperation! She snorted, Why do male Dragons hide their bits beneath an armoured shield and not wave them all over Zunityne, eh?

Might make all the smaller males jealous?

Oh, excuse me, mister monstrosity, your ego nearly slapped me all the way back to T’nagru, there.

Laughter gurgled in his throat.

With another sea storm sweeping down from the north, harbinger of what Aria had warned him would be a week or two of more unsettled weather caused by the changing of oceanic currents, they elected to fly on quickly. They joined the Dragonwing carrying the Princes shortly thereafter. Perplexed Dragonesses! Ah, the day was shaping up nicely. Someone might have been guilty of making a small show of having to slow down for them. No Dragon he could name, mind.

To his further surprise, the older Dragoness Yalia ordered her compatriots to shift over so that he might take the lead position in the flying wedge.

Only because he was carrying the King. Grrr!

Ah, but now a compliment about how he eased their slipstreaming? Better. One must always be sure to paddle in the shallows and eschew deeper waters.

Around mid-afternoon, the red tile rooftops of Zunityne hove into view. The weary Princes revived with miraculous aplomb, especially the youngest, leading the Sankir to request that Dragon announce the royal return in suitable style. Bugle or roar, he inquired archly?

“Shut your ears, everyone!” Azania advised.

III – AAMM – DRRAAGOONN!!

His melodious roar shattered the sticky afternoon, sending thousands of sea birds into a cawing panic over the city. Full retreat!

FOR THE KING!! he added, causing everyone who had thought he was done, to complain about their ears.

Stretching out his wings, he signalled a slow swoop over the city. Time for the populace to see and believe two things. One, their younger King and his brothers had arrived home. Two, people rode upon Dragons. Aye, perhaps it was naïve to believe that others would find what he and his Princess enjoyed, but could he help wanting to share? How else would his life ever have changed if not because of her, and moreover, what they brought to one another?

His hearts squeezed inside his chest as the first cheers rose from people rushing into the streets. The Princes waved madly. Even the fierce Dragonesses responded to the mood in the air, their butterfly wings finding a statelier cadence, their expressions changing from stern to bemused and even cautiously gratified. Perhaps in their culture it was not often that warriors received such adulation apart from in combat in front of one’s peers. One’s dignity precluded any overt show of vanity, but the underlying changes to their emotions were more than clear to his senses.

Given their numbers, he led the Dragonwing to a landing along the road just outside the Palace gates. They paraded inside as servants burst out of the building, all pretence of orderliness or decorum thrown to the winds. The King and Queen made an appearance on their balcony, although the Queen was seated in a rolling chair like the one he carried in his right forepaw.

Kerfuffle! Cries! Tears! Cheers!

Mad Humans everywhere. The Princes leaped down from their Dragons and rushed inside the building, hugging random people along the way. The Sankir commented that security was commendably tight, as he had expected. Dragonesses and Rangers. Soldiers stationed on the rooftops and guarding the building in a visible show of force.

Here came the crowds, a swelling, murmuring mass. The older King ordered them to be let into the grounds.

Before his Riders dismounted, Dragon rose onto his hind paws to allow them to see their son, and for Azania and Sankir Farizam to brief them quickly. The Princess told them Azerim had saved her life, taking a blow that Lord Gazaram had intended for her neck – even while he had been hooded, and unable to see who it was that he defended.

Dragon glared at her. He had not known that!

The King leaned out to kiss Azania upon the cheek. “My dear Princess of T’nagru, how can I ever thank you for your service to our Kingdom?”

“We … had a great deal of brave help, Your Majesty,” she stumbled, her cheeks heating up noticeably. “The Anhoyal Rangers, the Dragonesses from Wave Dragonhome … we lost a number, but prevailed in the end.” Her eyes flicked guiltily to Azerim. “I’m sorry we couldn’t bring your son back unscathed. We did our best.”

The King’s dark eyes considered her at disconcerting length. Then, he bowed very deeply. “Your Highness.”

“Your Majesty.”

Dragon wondered what exactly the exchange meant.

King Varazim extended his hand. “Dragon.”

They shook gravely. At least he understood this gesture!

The King said, “The power of your paw has shaken our islands, mighty Dragon, earning the undying gratitude of myself, my Queen and all our people. We are indebted.”

He said, “Thank you, my King and my Queen. It was the least we could do. It’s my personal hope, sire, that Azania and I will be able to usher in a new era of co-operation and friendship between your people and the Dragons here. Now, if we are only able to move the Sea Serpents along as easily as a few traitorous Lords, I shall be satisfied …”

The royals chuckled incredulously.

Queen Vyioli smiled,