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

With the thunder of his throat, his sire called the assembly to order. We begin the cross-examination. Flare the Bonfire, would you share?

The elderly crimson Dragon said, “Princess Azania, Dragon, I carry upon my body remembrance of the Skartun. Here upon my secondary wing joint, you see the scars from where I was wounded and struck down, unable to fly as our brothers and sisters were carried off into this slavery you so eloquently described. Had I not flown, I should have walked. Had I not walked, I should have crawled upon my belly! My shame burns deep. We Dragons stood wounded, divided and stunned by this attack, for which vengeance has never been taken in all the years since.”

Rising from his crouching posture, he limped toward her. After a moment, he reached out and clasped her shoulder. Touch! A powerful gesture of solidarity.

“My Dragon hearts burn for your loss, Princess, and the losses experienced by your nation. T’nagru is our bulwark against Jabiz Urdoo and this Mage. Many Dragons here believe that our kind cannot be controlled by magic, force or any other means. Yet hundreds, hundreds of Dragons were carried off that day. Some historians argue that they broke the might of the Dragon nation. Who here has not lost one of his or her Clan? Dragons?”

A collective roar shook the evening air.

“Have you the names of any of these you called Dragon thralls? Who were they?”

Glancing at Dragon, she said, “They were recovering from a terrible ordeal. Only two were able to speak –” Gnarr! What is this! many growled “– when we left N’ginta Citadel. We know Soar Windchaser and Ruthless Obliterator as those who –”

“Ruthless? My uncle Ruthless lives?” A green Dragoness rose, so agitated that she stepped upon the paws of the Dragon beside her.

“Aye, we believe so,” Azania said.

“You lie! No Obliterator Dragon would ever subject himself to such dishonour, such craven, belly-crawling behaviour. This is an outrageous insult to the Windchasers and the Obliterators.”

At once, accusations and counter-accusations flew back and forth.

She must be publicly labelled a liar, yet his kind only thought about the insult to themselves and their precious honour? Azania stood her ground, serene.

“Tell us of these cages!”

Dragon said, “The control is achieved with a dark magic infused with physical equipment. A metal cage was fixed around the Dragon’s head and muzzle, forcing two probes deep into the Dragon’s ear canals. They called them inductor rods. A handler sat upon the Dragon’s back to control the rods. By squeezing the handle with his hands, he shot electricity deep into the ears. The pain is like nothing else I have ever experienced.”

Openly enraged, the green spat, “Yet you stand here, and our kin were enslaved. What makes you so special, Dragon?”

“Perhaps only my size.”

Or his ego!

His desire for prominence among the Clans! another voice cried.

Azania said, “I placed my own hands into a Dragon’s ears to check the damage. The insides of the ears were scarred and damaged, some so badly that half of the Dragons we were able to rescue were deaf. Possibly, the damage is permanent. In addition, they had an instrument we called a lightning cart. It collected lightning into metal coils as tall as I stand, and shot charged quarrels attached to the instrument by a long wire. This is how they bring Dragons down – striking them as if by lightning. As you can see from Dragon’s hide, and Talonfire the Smiter will confirm, being struck by a violent electrical charge is no pleasant experience, even for a Dragon.”

“Unbelievable! Simply unbelievable,” the green Dragoness hissed.

From this to the control of the Bloodworm, the dark magic they had encountered gave many of the Dragons a deep sense of unease. They expressed this by snapping at the story’s details, questioning even the smallest particulars. At length, Inzashu-N’shula’s part in the tale came to light in such an explosion of hatred that Dragon shifted to stand protectively over her.

Bite back the flame! Bite it!

Blaze thundered the assembly back into some semblance of order. “We do not attack hatchlings and younglings! She is eleven years old! Hold dignity close to your Dragon hearts, brothers and sisters. Were we not all born, shaped by the heritage of our sires and dams? Which of us could change that?”

He dared not glance at his sire. Could this be the same regret which had touched his words before, as he cast his son out of lair, Clan and fellowship?

Approaching the girl, he said, “You stand with the Dragons?”

“Aye,” she quavered.

“Touch me. Convince me of this mental power you claim.”

Poor thing! Inzashu said, “Dragon, Blaze of the – I … I made an oath I would do no harm with my power. Nor … meddle.”

“That is well and fine, child, but you stand before Dragons now. My kin need to understand what we are facing – you must see, surely, that the power to control a Bloodworm or turn a King’s mind challenges those who have always seen their thoughts as inviolable?”

“Aye. I believe my mother must have found a way to imbue objects with power, but perhaps also, to draw upon the strength of many to enhance her powers. That is why the army marched with her to go fetch the beast.”

“A sound conclusion, agreed. So, show me. Convince me.”

Closing her eyes, the girl gathered herself. He touched her mind lightly, conveying strength. In a second, he felt her reach out and in a way that escaped him, she placed a tickle inside Blaze’s left ear. After a moment, he scratched absently at the spot. Inzashu shifted. He tickled his right ear, then his lip, then appeared to discover a fly on the tip of his nose.

A second later, both of his wingtips jerked