Isle of Dragons (Quest of the Nine Isles Book 1) Page 4

  Gazing out to sea, I scanned the horizon for anything familiar. There was no other land in sight. There was nothing but blue sky stretching down to meet dancing blue waves capped with white foam. At least the ocean was no longer angry, as it had been last night. It looked playful now, splashing and leaping up to chase the seabirds. But I wasn’t comforted by the sight. It would be a long time before I could trust water again.

  I tried to make sense of how I had come to be here, wherever here was. Everyone knew there was no land close to the Ninth Isle. The nearest shore was reckoned to be several days’ flight away. But that was flight as the dragonkind measured it, based on the strength and speed of their stunted wings. How much faster might the distance be covered by a pair of immense, powerful wings, like those of Skybreaker, the mad dragon? No one had any idea what he was capable of.

  One thing was certain. The creature was long gone now. He must have dropped me on the shore and flown away to freedom. Why had he rescued me from the water in the first place? Surely it hadn’t been out of gratitude because I had helped free him. The beast was too mad to have any sense of that. Maybe he had thought to eat me but then lost interest and tossed me away?

  There was no knowing what had motivated him. The important thing was that I was alive. Whether I deserved to be was a question I refused to contemplate. I shoved from my mind the memory of all who had died because of my recklessness. There was no way I could undo that now. But maybe there were survivors. Maybe others like me had washed up on these shores?

  A flicker of hope kindled inside me, and warmed by it, I took off jogging down the beach. I would search for bodies, would look for anyone alive and struggling in the shallows.

  I ran up and down the white sand, scanning the beach and stopping occasionally to look out over the water. I called out, offering help. But the only sound that returned was the echo of my own voice tossed back at me by the wind sweeping in off the ocean.

  Hours passed. Morning gave way to afternoon. The sky, so bright at first, grew overcast, the sun ducking behind gray clouds that rolled in with the suddenness of a summer storm. Thunder rumbled in the distance. The water grew dark and choppy.

  I saw no sign of survivors. I thought some wreckage might have washed up from Corthium, but I found none of that either. There were no footprints in the sand, no battered pieces of the ships that had tried to make it out of the island harbor. Gradually, I realized the impossibility of my hopes. The dragon had carried me far and fast. No one else could have reached this shore.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Grief and guilt were heavy things, great weights that seemed to settle in the pit of my stomach. But there were other discomforts to distract me. My skin was beginning to burn, even though the sun was hiding behind the clouds. I was used to the outdoors, and my clothing protected most of me. But I could feel my cheeks and forehead beginning to blister. There was no shade along the beach here. Worse, my throat was growing dry.

  I looked inland, toward the shade of the trees. For the first time, it occurred to me there could be some sort of civilization hiding in the wild. I had come to the conclusion during my search of the beach that the shore I had landed on was likely part of an island. I had traveled a long time without ever passing again the spot I had set out from. That meant it was a larger island than the one I had come from. There could be people here. Food, water, and shelter.

  Reluctantly, I left the beach and entered the shadows of the trees. The flora here was strange to me. I recognized none of the plants. Even the colorful birds I glimpsed flitting among the treetops were unlike the birds back home. As I passed between the tall trees and entered the thick of the forest, I heard the roll of thunder again.

  There was no path through the trees, nothing indicating people ever traveled this direction. So I picked my way along as best I could, climbing around boulders and over twisted tree roots that thrust up from the ground like the knobby knees of sleeping giants. Little sprinkles began to patter down on the leaves around me. The clouds opened up.

  I ignored the falling mist and delved deeper into the jungle, looking for signs that someone had been here before me. Soon I came to a craggy cliff that rose from the ground and jutted up into the stormy sky. If I could get to the top of it, I should have a good vantage point for looking out over the island. Maybe I would see rooftops or a village in the distance.

  I began to climb, picking my way carefully over the lumps and crevices in the stone. My hands were slippery with the rainwater, and my smooth-soled boots weren’t meant for climbing. But bit by bit I made my way up the bluff until I reached the top. My hands felt scuffed and raw from gripping the rough rock, but the view from up high was worth it.

  Looking down over the tops of the trees, I took in the whole island spread out before me. It had felt like I was traveling a long way into the forest, but now I saw the sandy beach wasn’t far away. The rolling ocean looked gray and depressing, reflecting the dark clouds above. I drew my attention from the water and traced the shore that ran in a circular, unbroken line all the way around. I had been right in guessing I was on an island. In the distance I could see the far side, half-hidden in the haze of gentle rain. A long stretch of green jungle and many more cliffs separated me from that half of the isle.

  Taking in the sprawling scene below, despair engulfed me. There were no rooftops, no little huts scattered among the trees. There was no hidden civilization. I was utterly alone.

  I sat on the edge of the cliff for some time, my legs dangling over the ledge in front of me as I looked out at the rain-soaked jungle. I tried to think what I should do next. I couldn’t just sit on the island and wait for rescue. Who would ever come for me? Who was left alive to know I was here? Even if anyone from home had somehow survived and happened across this island, they would be more likely to kill me than help me. After what I had done, after I had been responsible for the destruction of Corthium, there was no dragonkind alive who wouldn’t despise me. Maybe it would be my terrible punishment to live out the rest of my days, however few, stranded alone in this strange place.

  The pattering rain echoed the grimness of my thoughts. Remembering that my throat was still dry and hoarse from all my shouting on the beach, I drank from a puddle of water that had collected in the crevice of a rock. I wondered if there was some way to collect the water for later, but I couldn’t think of anything to store it in. I still had my little beltpouch dangling from the cord at my waist, but it was too thin to use as a waterskin. I would have to find a solution to this if I was to survive on the island. I couldn’t drink from the salty sea. And who knew how often it rained here or if there was any other source of freshwater?

  I was distracted from the concern when I caught a blur of motion at the edge of my vision. Heart leaping in fear or hope— I didn’t know which— I turned my head toward the movement. There, among the crags of an outcropping not far from this one, was a dragon.

  I didn’t have to look twice to know it was Skybreaker. The great beast stood among the rocks, wings outspread. For an awful moment, I thought he would fly, carrying my only hope of rescue away with him. But he merely stretched his wings and then settled back on his haunches.

  Good. It wasn’t too late.

  Scarcely knowing what I had in mind, I began clambering back down the cliff. I had no plan. I only knew I had to reach the mad dragon before he decided to take flight. He was my only means of escape. To where, I didn’t know. With the sinking of the Ninth Isle, I was adrift in the world. But I wouldn’t think of that now. My first priority was not to wind up stranded forever on an uninhabited island. The future would have to take care of itself.

  Back on the ground, I scrambled through the thick jungle, dodging trees and leaping through vines, trying to hold in my mind the image of Skybreaker. It was easy to get turned around among the unfamiliar trees. I had known every hill and valley of Corthium, but I was on new ground now. At least the rain had stopped.

  At last I reached the foot of the craggy peak
where Skybreaker rested. I couldn’t see the creature from here, but I recognized the tall rock formation. I jumped from stone to stone, relieved the climb was less steep this time. I couldn’t afford to be slowed down.

  When I reached the ledge where the dragon was crouching, I had a vague idea of creeping up on him. But I arrived to find his great horned head already turned my way, his fiery eyes fixed in an unblinking stare on the spot where I stood. From the twitching of his nostrils, I realized he smelled me on the wind. He had probably known I was coming long before I got anywhere near him.

  I thought he would take flight as soon as he saw me. But to my surprise, the beast kept very still. Only his eyes moved, following me as I edged closer. I had horrible visions of him suddenly roaring to life, snapping at me with his daggerlike teeth or even using his broad tail to sweep me clear off the ledge.

  Instead, he allowed me to approach slowly, one step at a time. Only when I saw the reddish-purple glow of my magic hand reflected in his eyes did I realize he seemed fascinated by it. I knew with a flash of insight that he refrained from devouring me only because of the magic. Maybe it was the same thing that had caused him to rescue me from the sea.

  It wasn’t surprising. Gazing into the Sheltering Stone had mesmerized me so thoroughly I had forgotten everything but the urge to touch the rock. Now the magic of the stone that had transferred into my hand cast a similar spell over Skybreaker.

  But enspelled or not, the dragon would only allow so much. As I moved another step closer, he abruptly shook aside his trance. Crouching low like a tiger about to strike, he bared his teeth and made a sharp hissing noise of warning. I froze. Even knowing he wasn’t a fire breather, I shuddered as the warmth of his foul breath wafted over me. It was obvious he wasn’t going to let me get any closer. So much for my ridiculous hope of clambering onto his back and riding away through the clouds, like the dragon riders of old.

  I tried a different tactic. All dragonkind of the Ninth Isle knew the stories of our past. Our heritage as the people of the dragon was precious to us. That was why we had preserved the Three Hopes for the future. It was why our last dragon had been kept alive, long after he had become a mad beast and a killer of men.

  But my work in the depository archives had taught me even more history than most. It had been many generations since one of our kind had bonded with a dragon. It was common knowledge that the potential was there, but few remembered how it was done. Certainly, I had never before imagined attempting it. But thanks to the ancient writings I had become familiar with, I did know something about the process. It involved a touching of minds, a sharing of memories and emotions. This was how a dragon rider and her beast communicated.

  It would cost me nothing to try it. Hardly knowing where to begin, I closed my eyes, shutting out the distracting sight of the fearsome creature still crouching and hissing in front of me. I tried to clear my head, emptying it of everything but this one purpose. Tentatively, I stretched out with my thoughts toward Skybreaker. I envisioned him in my mind and concentrated on reaching out to him, brushing him with the lightest hint of awareness. At first, there was nothing. I might as well have been attempting to communicate with the open space around me, trying to connect with the wind or the rocks beneath my feet.

  Then suddenly I felt it. I was struck by an unexpected, powerful wave of anger and pain that pulled and swirled like a whirlpool at the edges of my consciousness. It tugged at me, threatening to draw me in and engulf all my being. It would make this rage and nameless suffering my own.

  But I resisted the draw. I fought my way back from the overwhelming sea of emotion as if battling a deadly current. After a brief struggle, I slipped free. Once more, I found myself within the quieter confines of my own mind.

  My eyes flew open, and I took a few stumbling steps backward, away from the winged creature in front of me. I stared at Skybreaker in horror, as if seeing him for the first time. If there had ever been any doubt that the dragon lay under some dark curse or hopeless madness, it now vanished. I had touched only the barest edges of his mind, and this crazed fury and confusion was what I had found. I could only imagine what else lurked deeper within the beast, driving him to the violence he had committed in the past.

  My first instinct was to clamber back down these rocks and run from the dragon. I had been a fool to think I would find any help here. The creature could not even help himself. He was a captive to his madness, as surely as he had been a prisoner to the iron chains that once bound him to the watchtower on Corthium.

  But I resisted the urge to flee. Skybreaker was surely damaged, but right now he was the only tool I had to work with. I just had to figure out whether there was any way I could use him.

  Evening had come on. With my clothes still damp from the recent rain, I shivered in the wind. Looking to the horizon, I saw the orange sun was setting behind the sea. The cramping of my empty stomach reminded me I had spent the whole day exploring the island and never stopped to search for food. It was too late now. My hunger would have to wait until morning.

  I wasn’t eager to go back down into the dark, unfamiliar jungle below. I was equally reluctant to remain up here with the fierce dragon. But I had no choice. Having tracked Skybreaker this far, I couldn’t risk letting him out of my sight. If he chose to sleep here, I would have to do the same. I found myself a hollow niche among the rocks, where I was protected a little from the wind and in no danger of rolling off the ledge in my sleep.

  Seeing I kept my distance, the dragon stopped hissing and settled into a less aggressive stance. Probably tired from his long flight the night before, he showed no inclination to go anywhere now.

  As I lay down and rested my head on my arm, I kept one eye open and fixed on Skybreaker. The dragon watched me back, looking just as wary. I didn’t expect either of us would get much rest tonight.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I awoke at dawn’s first light. As soon as I opened my eyes, I felt the weight of loss that came with memory. Corthium was still gone, sunken deep beneath the sea. I was still responsible for the destruction of my home and cast adrift in a strange world with no more dragonkind.

  But I didn’t dwell long on my unhappiness. Pain and guilt swiftly flew from my mind, as I realized Skybreaker was no longer on the ledge with me. Scrambling to my feet, I peered over the edge, into the shady forest below. Giant green leaves swayed in the morning breeze, and brightly colored birds flitted through the treetops. But I saw no sign of the dragon. Maybe he had taken wing and left the island. Or he might have roamed to its other side. The jungle was so dense out there it was impossible to tell what might lie in that direction.

  Just as I was debating whether to strike out that way and look for him, a movement in the opposite direction caught my eye. I looked to the beach along the shore. There at the edge of the sand was Skybreaker. He looked different in the early morning light. His glistening scales had changed to the color of a pink and gold sunset. Gazing out to sea, the beast raised his broad wings and stretched them to their full length. For a heart-stopping second, I thought he was about to fly away and abandon me.

  Then I realized he wasn’t trying to lift into the air. His pose was more like a salute. To what, I wondered? It seemed to me he was facing in the direction of Corthium — or of where Corthium would have been had it not been submerged. Was it possible the mad dragon actually mourned the sinking of the Ninth Isle, as I did? Did he perhaps still possess some distant memory of past ages, when the inhabitants of Corthium had possessed a unique bond with his species? Or maybe it wasn’t the dragonkind he thought of at all. I remembered the Three Hopes, the orphaned dragon eggs that had rested in the treasure vault in the Depository of Knowledge. Did Skybreaker know that those eggs, the last hope for his kind, now rested at the bottom of the sea?

  It was no use speculating. Who could say what was in the mind of such a creature?

  I climbed down from the rocky ledge and returned to the jungle below. As I made my way toward the beach and
the sound of the crashing waves, I paid attention to the surrounding forest, this time with an eye toward determining whether there was anything edible around. I saw many brightly colored berries but was afraid to taste any of them. I had never seen berries quite like these before and feared they might be poisonous. The treetops were as full of birds as ever but there was no chance of reaching any of them. Once I saw a small hairy creature swing on long arms up a vine to disappear among the leaves overhead. But there was no possibility of hunting it either. I had no weapons, and the furry animal moved too quickly. Besides, it looked as if it had sharp teeth.

  I continued on down to the shore. Upon arriving at the open beach, I saw Skybreaker still standing like a statue, facing out to sea. Since he didn’t seem in danger of going anywhere, I let him be. I was too hungry just now to spare any more thought for the mad dragon. I roamed the shoreline, watching the little fish that darted in toward the shoals. I knew how to catch fish, if only I had the right equipment.

  I scanned the area until I found a jagged rock of the size and shape I needed. I sharpened its edges further by scraping it for a long time against another larger rock. Then I looked out for a long stick. I found one at the edge of the trees that would do. Tearing a strip of fabric off my sleeve, I used it like a bit of cord, binding the sharp rock to the end of the stick. In this way, I constructed myself a crude spear, similar to the one I sometimes used to fish with back home.

  It had taken me all morning to build my weapon, but I knew the time was well spent. Already I felt less powerless now that I held the spear in my hands.

  I returned to the edge of the shore and hopped along the half-submerged rocks, searching the little pools for easy pickings. My first prey escaped. But I had success in my next attempt, stabbing my spear quickly into the water and pinning a large flat fish to the sandy bottom of the pool. I didn’t stop hunting until I had caught two more fish, both of these small and striped. In the process, I saw plenty of other fish and several unusual-looking crabs that skittered away before I could catch them. There were many unfamiliar types of sea creatures here, and most seemed slower and less alert than those we had back home. Perhaps they had never seen a two-legged being like me before and were unused to being hunted.