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

Also, it would help them not to think too hard about what might lie ahead. He knew he must face fate head-on. No escaping, avoiding or hiding, as he had done in the past – but perhaps the hardest trial of all was the waiting. The not knowing. Hope’s stubborn breath burned in his hearts, almost paralysing in its intensity.

Azania had a sweet yet slightly husky singing voice which had seen training by her royal tutors. All proper Princesses were musical, of course. He had no formal training, but since Dragons sang at many occasions, among them births, deaths and family gatherings, he had a reasonable command of melody and rhythm. What he did not have, was command of his new voice.

Becoming white was more troublesome than he had imagined.

“No mind,” Azania said brightly. “I’ll teach you. Two gold clinkers per song?”

“Sold to the pretty girl in black.”

“Flatterer.”

On and on they coursed, melodiously.

About an hour before midnight, Dragon spied the gentle orange glow of lava from afar and they made one more course adjustment, aiming for the second pimple. The one that was not erupting. Grotesque image.

Winging in to land, Dragon observed that the pimples were a decent size, perhaps fifty Dragon paces across, but barely a ridge above the ocean level. The one oozing lava was doing the better of the two, which was not much of a recommendation. The rock was black, igneous and jagged. No problem for draconic paws, but Princess Azania would not be sleeping upon this, if he had his way. He supposed that if the volcanic activity continued, the two pimples would soon merge into one. Still, with a few hours remaining until high tide, they might yet get wet.

Azania agreed. “Maybe sleep up on your back? Do you think you could fold your wings to make me a decent royal boudoir?”

“At your service, Your Royal Highness.”

“I’m grateful, Your Fiery Majesty.”

“Ooh,” he purred.

And on that note, they both fell asleep within minutes. He stirred when the wavelets touched his nose, but the water only rose to a couple of feet up his body by two hours before dawn, drawing a great hissing and bubbling from the volcanic vents. Due to the position of the moon, the schedule now put the next low tide an unusual eleven hours away on its complex schedule. Aria’s notes stated that the reef resting spot would likely only be visible for an hour before and an hour after the tide’s lowest ebb.

Despite the dawn’s beauty, Dragon rested deliberately until the hour came for their departure. This was the critical leg; the longest and most dangerous. He tested the air with his senses; so fresh, it zinged down his nasal passages and into his lungs. Azania fiddled with the orb.

“Not sure something out here isn’t making it misbehave,” she said finally.

“Keep an eye on it, and let’s make sure we navigate by our reckoning as well,” he instructed. “Or –”

“No.”

“Good. We’re agreed to go on?”

“More than,” she growled, checking the straps of the Dragon bow on his left flank. They had packed as lightly as possible, but retained the weapon as a necessity. “Remember, this is the one day we have to make this crossing. So, eight point four degrees west of north. How many hairs do you make that?”

Touching her hair with his talon, he said playfully, “But these hairs are all curly. I’m totally confused.”

“Oh, come on!”

“For the record, I like your hair.” The Princess eyed him wrathfully. “It’s all frisky, complicated, unmanageable and frightfully hard work at the best of times …”

“Shut those fangs before I shut them for you, Dragon.”

“And it gleams like a raven’s wing –”

“The hole has been dug and you are deep inside, so put a cork in it,” she informed him pithily. “Onward, my faithful steed! To the heavens!”

Northward they forged, on into the immense unknown. Endless ocean all around. The suns rose and rose, baking Dragon and Rider in a white glare until noon, when the red giant once more eclipsed the white and a northerly breeze sprang up, forcing him to press harder and harder to maintain their tight schedule. They passed over a pod of smallish whales being chased by a wide wedge of light blue Sea Serpents. No small creatures, these. The undulant curves appeared to be twice the length of any of the whales, and they were moving quickly.

Azania peered at their navigation crystal and suggested that it had settled down and that they were on course once more. Time was tight. Once again, Dragon forced his aching wings to pick up the pace. He could feel every mile they had already flown in his body; he had done ten hours on the wing before, but this was both a distance and a time challenge, and that had not included working against a headwind. Was the weather changing again?

Into his sixth hour of flight, he rested several times on the wing before powering on once more. Seven down. Just one more to go, and they should reach the reef. Both sets of eyes scanned ahead and to the sides as they flew at an altitude of a mile and half, where the wind seemed not as strong.

Azania tapped the crystal again. “Not good. Our path’s meandering about like crazy in here, and I know we’re steady as she goes, according to the suns.”

“Eyes peeled, Princess.”

“Do you have any idea how nasty an image that is, Dragon, especially since I’ve seen you eat eyeballs?”

“Wouldn’t miss them for the world,” he grinned, easing his shoulders one more time. “Pop, crunch, slurp – although, I’ve never actually tried peeling them. Seems a waste of good juices.”

“Deep breaths. Easy does it,” she advised.

“Want to climb off and