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

The man’s colours were all wrong, he sniffed out immediately. Fascinating. Could pain or infection do this to a person? The wound was already two days old. Or … he tapped quietly on the balcony doors, left closed apparently because fresh air was a terrible idea for any convalescent. Primitives. Barbarians! And they had the cheek to reject magic as a solution when all they relied upon was superstition and not sound science. Inzashu came over to speak with him.

She said pensively, “Good job on the lower break, but he left a bone splinter loose that I had to reposition. Terrible job on the thigh. Completely misaligned. Can you reach him from here? I need to readjust the bones and I’m not strong enough.”

“I can try. You’ll coach us, right?”

“Do my best.”

At her direction, the two Princesses and two servants held the King down while Dragon gingerly – biting his tongue – exerted pressure by pinching his knee and pulling downward. Sweat. Grumble. Check, no. Again. Inzashu cautioned him several times to use less strength. As directed, he made a slight twist while the poor man moaned even in his drugged-up state, and then, click.

“Did you hear that, Princess?”

“No, but – thanks, Dragon.” Her hands palpated the King’s leg with great care. “That’s done it.”

“Where did you learn to set bones, Inzashu?”

“Learned the trade in a field hospital,” she said. “The Skartun have a great many disagreements with a great many nations. I only discovered what my mother was doing there when I was nine. She wanted bodies to experiment on. Dead or alive.”

Azania’s eyebrows shot toward the ceiling. “Truly?”

“Aye. Dragon, how does he feel to you now?”

He reached out with his senses. “Far better. Still, I don’t like the scent of that wound.”

“Me neither, but the surgeon did clean it thoroughly. Can’t fault him there. I might see if there are a few apothecaries in town who could supply herbs and essences for burning here in the room. The vapours might help, in this case. Yuali?”

“I’ll assign someone to help.”

“I meant, would this be acceptable in your tradition?”

“Aye, more than acceptable. I cannot thank you enough for all your help, Inzashu. It truly is fate’s providence that you arrived in perfect time.”

She smiled tiredly. “He’s not out of the woods yet, as you northerners say, but I’d like to think that leg’s safe now. Much depends on how the next couple of days go.”

The girl startled as Princess Yuali drew her into an embrace.

* * * *

The King’s condition deteriorated over the following day and a half, but with a nudge from Inzashu-N’shula abetted by a fretful white Dragon, his fever broke that evening and the man sweated it all out, which was supposed to be good news for Humans. Not so good for one with nostrils as sensitive as a Dragon’s.

The range of Human whiff and pong was truly astounding.

Like a Dragon with bad digestion, he teased Azania. That could be impressive, too.

Before they departed, a few jobs. One was for his Princess to weep copiously over her little sister’s understandable desertion, as she put it. Yuali and Inzashu planned to join the army which Amboraine had already begun to muster with the help of the surrounding kingdoms, and eventually to make her way down to T’nagru, if Dragon and Azania did not catch up with her first. The second job was a special request from a grateful king.

“You wouldn’t mind awfully if I asked you to pay a visit to Lord Varlan on the way north?” he asked, propped up on his cushions. Dragon peered in through the window. “A strong force is on its way there as we speak, but besides his annoyance value, Varlan has a highly secure castle with not less than three outer gates. It has withstood every siege in two hundred years.”

“Interesting,” Dragon purred. “Do my nostrils detect a whiff of honourable pillaging in the air?”

Harilan chuckled weakly, his bearded face breaking into a grin. His daughter often had the same expression, and they shared the same hardy, not-fainting heritage so absent in the rest of their kingdom.

He said, “Honourable pillaging? Music to this ruler’s ear. To wit: my knights should be most grateful if Varlan’s gates could be reduced to a state of not working or rubble, whichever works best, before their arrival day after tomorrow. They will do the rest.”

Mmm, Dragon agreed, rubbing his keel bone as the heat blossomed immediately.

“Listen to him,” Azania smiled.

“That low roaring –”

“That’s the sound of Dragon fires rising, my King. I think you just made my Dragon’s day.”

Chapter 15: Honourable Pillaging

ONE LESS IN NUMBER, they took their leave of Amboraine the very next morning. Many hugs. Even one for Chalice, who graciously received the Human touch, despite that Dragon was convinced he smelled deep consternation. Ah well, one did not change a Dragon’s scales overnight.

For every rule, an exception.

He peered at himself. How peculiar to have shucked one set of scales for another, almost like a Princess changing her clothes. Silver scabs from all the arrow wounds spotted his new scaly robes. Even his wings were now turning properly white on the surfaces, but the rich brown-and-gold patterning remained … engrained, he supposed, in many places. Azania said he looked most fetching and unique. Dragon agonised over what Aria would think. As if it mattered. She would be mated with another. What could he do to change this fate? Nothing.

He hugged Inzashu. “Now behave yourself, young lady, and don’t stir up any more trouble than your sister would.”

“Thanks for everything, Dragon,” she said. “We’ll fly together again, won’t we?”

“Absolutely. Just as soon as I find you the right boy Dragon so that you can boss him around and tell him