Dragon Breeder 3 by Dante King (e novels to read online .TXT) 📕

Further down the row was the all-blue Knowledge Sprite, Penelope. She was looking lovely in a gown of shimmering cerulean that reminded me of summer seas.

I spotted the bright white hair and blood red eyes of Sergeant Milena and Lieutenant Kaleen off to one side. Kaleen had her usual sardonic smirk in place while Milena’s face was as inscrutable as ever.

The gorgeous blonde dragonmancer, Amara, who reminded me somewhat of a leaner, less muscular Saya, was sitting dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief and smiling at me as I strolled on by.

Next to her, taking up enough room for four and with their short legs kicking backward and forward in the air like a couple of kids, were Big Greasy and Old Sleazy. Big Greasy, wheeler-dealer and merchant extraordinaire, was dressed in his usual tight-fitting suit of red velvet that made him look like a boil that was about to burst. Old Sleazy was, surprisingly, bereft of his usual apron bearing the slogan: Sex, Drugs & Sausage Rolls. Instead, he was attired in a hideous, moth-eaten chartreuse-colored suit. His chef’s toque though, was still perched at a rakish angle on his bald, green head.

Preceptor Tang and Preceptor Ipheca, my tutors in Combat Theory and Arcane Practice respectively, sat in aisle seats chatting casually with the men and women next to them.

Claire the Seer was there, of course, looking resplendent dressed in all-white. Her mismatched red and blue eyes glittered as they took in the hall and all those in attendance. She, more than anyone else, was attracting the most stares from the assembled soldiers and Academy bigwigs. I assumed that this was because she rarely came down from her orchard up in the foothills of the mountains surrounding the Drako Academy.

Nina, the dark-skinned Sea Elf, and Viessa, the fiery-tempered, shaven-headed Drow sat at the back of the giant hall and pulled theatrical sad faces at me when I caught their eyes.

Before I stopped at the front of the congregation and took my place on the dais. I also saw Tamsin. The hobgoblin was dressed in a flowing dress of shimmering yellow silk that matched her eyes and accentuated her figure. She was sitting behind Renji. The pretty Djinn had her silver hair coiled artistically around her head. Her silver teeth gleamed as she hit me with one of her dazzling smiles.

I came to stand between the two Lorekeepers, Dasyr and Tanila, who were dressed in deep purple robes and had been named as the officiators of the wedding ceremony. Their tiger-striped hair had been brushed into styles that resembled manes. Their long, furry tails whipped lazily through the air behind them as they watched me approach the dias.

I had to admit that nerves did have me in their grip a little. Once I was in position at the front of the hall, my three squad members eased themselves out of their seats and walked down to take up their station behind me.

As I waited for the music to spark up and for Saya and Elenari to appear, I thought of every trick in the book to ensure that I didn’t succumb to my nerves and pass out on the spot. In the end, I elected to go with advice that John McClane is given at the very beginning of Die Hard—make fists with your toes.

I had no idea if it would work at keeping me calm, but at least it kept my mind off the massive crowd of onlookers who were staring at me.

I scrunched my toes up in my boots and relaxed them again. I exhaled quietly through my nose. Give me a hoard of bloodthirsty wildmen and ten giants to deal with any day.

Suddenly, with an abruptness that must have scared the hell out of any birds that were passing overhead outside, the bells in the tower above us began to toll. One time for every Empress and Emperor who had ever ruled over the Mystocean Empire.

When the reverberation of the last toll had almost faded away, there was a deep resonant braying of trumpets from somewhere up in the rafters.

As if on cue, a flight of drakes of all different colors swept down from on high. They converged and merged and flew with the same entrancing fluidity as a flock of starlings. They flowed and streamed around the mighty pillars that supported the roof of the hall-cum-chapel, a shoal of iridescent fish swimming through the air. Then, in a rustling rush of leathery wings, they shot up the central aisle that I had just come down. They swarmed in a multitudinous ball at the back of the hall, forming a living, swirling globe of dragons.

The music swelled. Drums thundered amongst the trumpets and the clashing of cymbals. Somewhere, in the very heart of the rising crescendo, I thought I could just make out a lone flute playing.

The tempo of the music picked up. The mass of swirling drakes increased their speed so that they became little more than a kaleidoscope of brilliant color.

Then, in a final crashing climax of glorious sound, the music abruptly ceased with a great crash of cymbals and gongs. The drakes, in perfect unison, dispersed like a hundred fireworks shooting off in different directions.

And there, standing where the drakes had been circling and swarming, were Elenari and Saya.

Damn, but I could not think when I had ever seen a smoother entrance than that.

The two women glowed with an inner radiance. At first, I thought it might be magic. Then, I realized that it definitely was magic, but not the flashy kind that we saw around the Drako Academy. This was the more subtle everyday kind. The kind that existed back on Earth, if you only bothered to open your eyes and see it.

Elenari was dressed in a