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Book 1 in the Dragons of Eolia trilogy

Heart of the Trove Preview

• Prologue
• Chapter 1
• Chapter 2
• Chapter 3

Prologue

Beatrice thought she could hide her son’s curse from the dragons. She had been deadly wrong.Her child’s steps patter on the cobblestone street, struggling to keep her frantic pace as a roar fills every inch of the city. Every muscle in her body shakes, but she steels herself for him.“I’m sorry, Mom. I won’t do it again,” he sobs as he tightens his grip on his plush dog.Too late, she thinks, but swallows the words, pulling on his arm. People step aside, watching them as if they’re carrying a plague. “B-be brave now, okay? You need to run faster.”A shadow covers him, and something huge crashes onto the rooftop near them. Her son screams, echoing the crowd, but Beatrice shoves a panicked passerby and darts through a narrow alley.Please, Maiden. I don’t care what happens to me, but save him, she thinks, tears staining her cheeks.They run through the dense web of narrow streets, hiding between the buildings looming on either side. They run and run, but there is no escaping, not in a city serving those creatures.As soon as they burst through the busy square, only seconds away from the city gates, another roar rips the sky apart, and the shape of a pair of massive wings blocks the sun.The black dragon lands in front of her, towering above everything and everyone else. She stumbles backward, falling to the ground and trembling.“Please. At least spare my son. I beg you!”The dragon’s massive hand rests near Beatrice, but her child steps in front of her and raises his hand with a shaky voice. “Leave me and my mom alone!”His palm lights up with that unnatural purple glow.He frantically sways it in front of him, like a hunter trying to scare a beast with a torch, but Beatrice knows his curse, his siphoning, doesn’t work like that.She twists her head around at the sound of gasps, watching the shocked looks of the people crowding the square. She can’t read a dragon’s expression, but she doesn’t need to. His bare fangs drip with hatred and disgust. His green eyes swirl like raging whirlwinds.When he speaks, his cavernous voice shakes the city.“You shouldn’t have done that.”
The boy falls, coughing and clutching at his throat, his plush dog rolling beside him.Her sight of him grows blurry as air refuses to enter her lungs, obeying a higher master now.As her head falls to the ground, she utters a last silent prayer to the gods.But the gods don’t listen, and Beatrice never feels the landing.

• Next Chapter

Heart of the Trove Preview

• Prologue
• Chapter 1
• Chapter 2
• Chapter 3

Chapter 1

The doors of the temple open, and the heavy gaze of five dragons, their claws as big as my arms, bores into me. My breath quickens, because this time I won’t be able to lose myself in the crowd and avoid their attention. Today I brought them a gift.I look at the thin trident I’m holding, and can’t help sighing. It took me a week to craft the base, and another two to finish all the decorations. Sculpting the waves, which circle the handle until it reaches the three prongs, was especially difficult.But dragons don’t accept just any gift, and they don’t reward just anyone either. An accepted offer means you can have your pick at a trove of magical items, but if you offend them…I can still remember the remains of a young man who tried to be funny years ago.My steps clack on the marble as I follow the crowd—all excited and in awe, unlike me. A light spring breeze passes through my short waves. The temple, a tall building supported by rows of ornate columns, is open to the outside and does little to shield visitors from the weather. Carvings on the pillars show representations of the strength of dragons and the legitimacy of their rule over humans. The concept disgusts me, but the artistry behind the scenes, the care placed on every sculpted bit, always makes my jaw drop.Something tugs at my shirt, and the voice of my best friend whispers in my ear, “See you tonight at the tavern, Lydia. Good luck with the offering.”“Bye, Alice,” I whisper back with a tinge of unease. Although she can be an earful, I would like her company while I get closer to the giant beasts.The other offerers and I form a straight line, depositing our gifts at their feet, shaping a pile of riches they will add to their hoards.Dragons radiate magic with each breath, and the source of their power is their trove. That’s why these greedy, egocentric lizards style themselves as gods, to gather offerings from humans. Every week, people with the means to do so donate something of value during a big, pompous ceremony like this one.When it’s my turn, the scalding breath of the dragon king, Aestro, sears my face, hot as a bellowing forge.I raise my head, unable to resist my curiosity. His smooth, silvery scales create perfect armor from his talons to his head, twice as tall as me and adorned by two gray eyes, slitted and as big as my fist.Two thunderous storms staring at me.I look away, my heart hammering in my chest. No time to think about how easily he or his perfect family of five giant magic monsters could eat me like a snack. A crispy appetizer with an aftertaste of charcoal. I shudder.By the Maiden, can he smell it on me? Does he know what I am? What is in my blood?I am the last person who should be here. Dragons kill siphoners like me without a second thought.I don’t wait for an answer to my questions and rest the trident on the pile, pacing away and only looking back when I reach the nearest column. Notia, the red dragon and eldest daughter, has lowered her head near the pile and seems to watch my gift with undivided attention. She raises her head towards me and then turns to whisper something to her brother beside her.Now Zephyr, the giant black dragon, is looking at me too, and I turn away as quickly as I can. I am not afraid of Notia, but Zephyr…he is the general of Eolia’s army, a ruthless warrior as dangerous as his father.Did they not like my gift? Have I offended them?A high-pitched voice from behind startles me, and the high-priest raises his arms solemnly in front of the crowd. “Thank you for your gifts, children of the dragons! As we unveil our rewards, let’s all give thanks to our king Astreo for his infinite kindness and his gift of magic!”They maintain their regal decorum, staring us down from their towering heights, and I bow, together with the other humans. When the priest bids us closer, we proceed to the long marble tables in the next part of the temple, the one with the rewards.The contrast between their pile and ours would make me shake my head if I weren’t right in front of them. A wooden spoon, a clay mask, a bolt of cotton cloth, and more mundane objects lay strewn on the tables. We donate great treasures and gold, but they give us whatever they infuse with magic that week. A little taste of their power to keep us happy and complacent, in a disappointing package.I approach the closest table, looking for anything that can hold wind or make someone fly.A silent curse slips through my lips as I pass over a roll of bandages that probably heals wounds and a hammer that could have been useful any other time.Oh, come on, anything!A feather, a kite…I would choose even a spring if it makes me jump high enough.The wind doesn’t cool the anxious fire in my head. Between the columns, the rest of the city glistens in the morning sunshine, and beyond it, I can catch a small glimpse of the surrounding mountains. I know the more I show myself here, the closer I am to them, the more I risk.I spy a sword. No, thank you, useless and—wait. Is that a defect on the hilt?How can anyone do such sloppy work?I pick it up and frown, tracing the blade with my finger. The steel is brittle to the touch, even with magic coursing through it. I may be a mediocre blacksmith, but my stuff is better than this…right?“I didn’t think you would pick a sword, Lydia! Are you looking for inspiration?” Remolus, the high priest, beams at me, a knowing look in his eyes. He is well into his forties, a lean man with short brown hair and a bright smile. Beautiful, if it weren’t for the blind fanaticism.“No, actually. I was just…admiring the competition. You should pick this. It’s a wonderful sword.” I grin and hand him the glorified toothpick.“Our lords already bless me with the gift of their presence. I need no weapons.” He nods to himself, his eyes closed.Please kiss their scaly behinds more.A forced smile creeps onto my lips. “Have you seen anything that could let someone fly? Something like a fan?” I say with a shrug, feigning disinterest.“I believe I’ve seen a wooden bird somewhere around there.” He points to the tables at the other end of the temple hall.I squint my eyes and I see it. A small bird, still not chosen, sits on the marble table. “Thanks, see you!” I say, before running away at breakneck speed.A cavernous rumble, which sounds a lot like a dragon’s growl, makes my entire skin vibrate. I slow my pace, lowering my head with my eyes widening.Keep your damn cool, Lydia, if you don’t want to get eaten.I try to grab the toy, but before I can catch it, a child’s hand claims it, following the motion with a happy—although muffled—squeal.“Mommy, look! I bet this can make me fly above the house!”Horror seeps into my bones. Leen, the spoiled daughter of one of my clients, has stolen my bird. Her family can afford to donate every week, and treats each Offering Day like a game.“Hi, Leen! Wow, what’s that? A bird?” My bird, you demon spawn.The little brat turns to me and frowns, tugging at her mother’s dress. “Mum…that dirty old lady is here…”Old!? I am twenty-five, you little monster! And I am not dirty!Her mother, Ilene, ever the perfect noblewoman, wears a long green dress, soft even to look at and surely softer than anything I have in my wardrobe. She turns towards me. “Oh…Lydia.” The corner of her mouth twists. “If you’re looking for my husband, he isn’t here.”My eye twitches and I clench my teeth, but I force a smile. “Of course, I was just admiring Leen! She’s turning out to be a beautiful lady! Wouldn’t she like something like this?” I point at a hairbrush nearby. “Maybe it makes her beautiful hair grow even longer and more lustrous.”“But I want the bird!” Leen watches her mom and me, scowling at us both.Ilene keeps looking at me and raises a brow. “Aren’t you too old for these games? You know how Offering Day works.”“Finders keepers!” Leen whispers, while clutching my bird—her bird, if I can’t convince her.“Please, Ilene…I need it. Today is—”“I do not care; you know the rules.” She turns, grabbing her daughter by the hand.A surge of blood filled with anger rushes to my head, and I slam my hand on the table, the group of objects nearby clinking. “Come on! You lousy little—”A loud roar turns me pale, and I feel a surge of air as a dragon rushes past me and lands between us, spreading his black wings. Zephyr stands at least twelve feet tall, looking at me with piercing green eyes, a flurry of wind in each of them. Any other dragon, and I would have stood my ground, but not against him.Zephyr, the Last Breath; the heir to the throne; the most lethal weapon the city of Eolia has.I gulp and back away. If I still have some air in my lungs, it’s because he doesn’t deem it appropriate to kill me. Every dragon of the royal family has some power over the winds, from Aestro, who can summon storms and rain, to Zephyr, who has pure control over air. The people he encountered during the war didn’t have the same privilege—nor did the ones he executed for heresy. I’ve seen life drained from their eyes as he sucked the air out of them. I’ve seen them beg him and get nothing.My throat bobs. “I…I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” Glancing at the table, I grab the nearest item—a damned wooden spoon. “See? I’ll take this and go.”Zephyr keeps watching me, studying me with a curious glance, like I’m a new offering to his hoard. Now I know I did something wrong, because I’ve never seen him linger between humans like that. I’ve never even seen him this close.Or maybe he knows what I am.My breath becomes erratic, and I wait. Somehow, he must have learned about my gift, what I could do to their magic. I knew it was a horrible idea to come here today.While I wait for my lungs to empty, I raise my chin and stare back at him—better to die with some dignity. My eyes run over his black scales: smooth like his father’s, made to ride the strongest winds. They look as if the gods themselves sculpted them on him. They absorb every ray of light, and I feel the urge to touch them. I can imagine a suit of armor or a shield like that, impenetrable.My thoughts stumble on my inexplicable lack of death. I blink, and the dragon watches me for one more moment before flying back towards his family. Ilene and Leen are gone, along with my bird, but that scene has garnered the attention of the crowd.I sigh, trying to ignore the stares branding my skin, focusing instead on my meager prize: a spoon. What power would it even have? To hold a magical amount of soup? At least I was alive, and I could—Remolus’s voice rings again. “As we end this Offering Day, I remind you once again of the sacrality of the gift the dragons granted us. Don’t squander these offerings, and don’t trust those who would corrupt them and change them. Beware of the siphoners.”I look again at the object in my hand. No sacred magic to be found, only a dragon’s discarded leftovers.I pocket the utensil and walk away, following the crowd outside.

***

The oh-so-magical spoon lies on my work table, unaware of my disdain for it.I look at the rest of the smithy, which doubles as the lower floor of my house. Rows of swords and helms, hammers and shields fill the walls—my finest works. The crisp smell of fire and charcoal lulls my mind, as familiar today as when my father owned the shop.It’s my home, even if it needs repairs. Cracks ripple near the windows, the smelter has some loose bricks, and I’ll need to replace many of the tools.I stare at the spoon. “I suppose you don’t magically scoop gold out of thin air, right?” The spoon—of course—doesn’t answer, and I pick a small magnifying glass from my drawer. A gift from Alice from a few Offering Days back. I point it at the spoon, and its lens flares with colored movement. Hot embers of power spark inside the wooden utensil, and I strain my eyes, studying every speck, every dance those flaming tongues make.“Well…this here is fortifying magic…and this is temperature…” I pick the spoon up, weighing it in my hand, and hold it towards the furnace. I can feel the heat radiating from it, caressing my copper-brown skin. Scooping a piece of charcoal with the spoon, I listen to the hiss it gives as it cools down. I shoot my will towards the spoon—an order to help me—and I watch the coal burst into flame, leaving the wood unscathed.“You could have been useful…” I say with a hint of remorse. I would have loved to heat the forge faster, but I can’t have doubts today. I have to fly to that mountain.And that means I have to go with the riskier alternative plan.I stand up, close the door to the shop with a hollow click of the lock, and bring the spoon to the back, to my father’s office. A broad longsword and a shield hang between a pair of draped windows, and I am filled with a mix of wonder and shame.They are my father’s greatest work, his masterpiece. The sword—First Fang—has a hilt made of two dragons, green and red, their maws open to the sides. The shield—Last Wing—has the same twin dragons, spreading their wings to cover the wielder. They seemed to stare at me, a self-inflicted eternal reminder that I have not inherited a speck of the talent my father had.I sigh and open the writing desk beneath them. A collection of small glass vials vibrating with power glows for me, asking to be used. I smile and grab a couple, spreading them on the desk before opening a tiny drawer, chock-full of trinkets and objects I’ve gathered. I rummage for a while before grabbing a metal feather.“Ah, ah! I knew I had something!” Placing it on the side, I concentrate again on the spoon, putting it in my open hands.I remind you once again of the sacrality of the gift the dragons granted us. The words from Remolus echo in my ears.“Yeah, easy to say when the dragons do everything for you.”Holding my hands upwards, I focus on that small aura beneath the skin instead, like my father taught me. The power in my blood manifests around them, lighting it with a purple glow and letting me feel every crease on the utensil until I find the dip where the magic entered.Magic comes in, magic comes out.I take away my right hand and lift my finger, shaping the purple light into a long needle. I puncture the spoon, and with a white glow, three colored tendrils that look like molten glass emerge from it. Slowly, they become small essence wyrms, like little flying serpents of pure magic. I reach with my hand, and one of them butts its head against it with what sounds like a purr.These are my dragons. Why the priests adore the giant deadly ones and hate those who free these is beyond me.The three baby wyrms look at each other and start fighting, nibbling at their necks with a series of little screeches.With a steady hand, I grab the tail of the nearest one. This time the purple light turns into a thin blade around my finger, cutting as close to the spoon as I can and breaking the creature free. With a small hiss, it turns calm and curls itself in my palm while the remaining part of its tail dissipates.Siphoning always comes with a cost: you lose some of the magic, especially if you are new to it. Maybe that’s why the dragons hate us: not only do we take away their control, we also make them weaker.I lay the first small dragon in an iron cup lined with a magic-resistant coating and proceed. Siphoning isn’t easy and requires hard training, on top of being an innate gift: the more powerful the object, the unrulier the magic is. I laugh, thinking about my first siphoning, when my father showed me how to do it only after hours of warning not to tell anyone. He forgot to remind his eight-year-old daughter not to steal the magic pet. It took me a day to give it up.After placing the first two in the cup, I take a glass vial and store the last one. Some for the future, you never know. I will need fortifying magic to strengthen the feather, temperature to control the wind and…I rummage through the vials and grab two small ones—growth and flesh magic.Putting everything in the cup, I place my glowing finger inside and watch as the dragons curl around it: they fuse, one longer creature humming and radiating heat on my hand, as if happy to be reunited.When I guide them to the feather, I puncture the metal with my siphoning, as I did to free them, and the small essence wyrm plunges inside, making the feather glow faintly. Perfect, my father would be proud.Smiling, I grab it. “I’m coming, Dad.”

• Next Chapter

Heart of the Trove Preview

• Prologue
• Chapter 1
• Chapter 2
• Chapter 3

Chapter 2

I fill my lungs with the open air, soaring through the wind.After I left the city, I used my new item, avoiding anyone who might have seen my outburst this morning. I channeled the magic from the feather, and a pair of white wings sprouted from my back. I flapped them and lifted myself into the air.The early spring sun warms my skin as I fly. When I see the mountain, I dive without hesitation to a large platform near the top, a plateau with a field of grass growing on it. Landing with a careful step, I walk towards the rock wall at the back, dismissing my wings and sitting against it.The crude engraving on my side reads Jacob Egerston.“Hi Dad.”Five years. Five years have passed since he died, since he left me alone.“How has it been? All good?” I tilt my head, resting it on the cold mountain. “It’s been a…I’m not gonna lie, it’s been a terrible year, Dad. Our shop is still up and running. We still have that big contract for the captain of the guard, same price as last year. Didn’t even haggle that much, since I know you cared about that. But…” I stop and swallow. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this. Not after how they treated you. The king and this city didn’t deserve you.”I turn my head, watching Eolia with a disgusted frown. The City of Wind rests on top of a small hill, surrounded by a wide valley and four mountains, including the one I’m on. My father used to bring me up here each spring—he always loved the view.“I siphoned to come here,” I confess. “You’d tell me to be careful, but no one saw me—and I did it with respect…I saved every bit I could. I’ve improved a lot in these five years.” Pain grips my chest, and I lower my head. “You’d be proud.”Liar. Useless, stupid liar.My father was my hero, a master of his craft, both in blacksmithing and in siphoning. I tried countless times, but nothing came close to the perfection of First Fang and Last Wing. I am a pathetic failure.Everyone loved my dad, the famous Jacob Egerston, and he had loved Eolia for as long as I could remember.This city brims with life, with love, Lydia. You just have to listen and open up to it, he used to say.That was what killed him: that stupid notion of pure altruism and selflessness—working himself to death under pressure from the army. To help the city he loved, he’d say.I can’t care about Eolia. I can’t love it like he did, not after its king brought his death. That monster and his wars made me an orphan. And beyond everything, I disappointed him again by being a lousy excuse for a smith.If my father were with me, he would resent me, too.“I…” This is the hardest part, the promise I made myself before coming here. “I am going to try one more year, okay, Dad? I’ll make you proud, no matter what.” Next year, I will have something to show him. And if I don’t, at least I won’t stain his name anymore. I will find a new purpose somewhere far from this cursed city.I pull my forearm to my face, drying myself with a sob. Silence falls for a few minutes as I stare at the tall and serpentine towers of the royal palace, visible even from up here. “Today I saw Ilene at the temple, you know? Do you remember when I was twelve, and she visited the shop every morning?” I say with a smile. She always dressed up and kept batting her eyelashes at my father. Back then, she had a decent personality, at least.“You kept saying no…I wouldn’t have minded if you had fun after Mom, you know? I wouldn’t have judged you. Even I hung out with Jack a few years ago.”I did more than hang out with Jack, honestly. A nice and…more than decent-sized stress reliever. Not relationship material though, we both agreed, even if I couldn’t remember the last time I had a serious boyfriend outside of occasional sex. Maybe next year, when I will either be a blacksmith or a failure.“If you were here, I would tell you everything about it. You always asked if my dates had been polite, and you protected me when they made me cry.” Laughing and relaxing my back against the wall, I stretch my toes inside my boots. “Like when you almost chased the baker’s son with a hammer for stealing a kiss? I was so…” I trail off, remembering how embarrassed I was when he ran to defend my honor.A husky male voice echoes from above me. “Go on, it was interesting.”The sound startles me, and I jump to my feet and step away from the wall. When I turn, the afternoon sun is behind whoever has spoken. A tall shadow jumps from a higher rock with quick and graceful steps.And then, with green eyes and unruly black hair, the most eerily beautiful man I’ve ever seen stands in front of me.My eyes widen as the tall stranger strolls towards me.Even from a distance, I can see I barely reach his chin, and how well-defined muscles ripple through his arms—the arms of a warrior. He carries a short sword, and I can guess he knows how to use it. His piercing eyes gaze at me, scanning me from head to toe, and a smile appears on his chiseled jaw.I raise my head, trying to appear calmer than I am. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” I would welcome his interest while drinking at a tavern, not when I am alone on a mountain.He gives me a puzzled look. “Wait, you don’t recognize my face?”I shake my head. “Should I?”“I thought women talked in town, considering how happy with my services they usually are,” he says, tilting his head and giving me a cocky smile.What an arrogant idiot. “I don’t know you, but I doubt you’ve ever satisfied a woman with that attitude. You look like a city guard who convinced a poor girl to bed him, and now thinks he is the Maiden’s gift to womankind.”His eyes widen, but he laughs. “I am not…I mean; I am no guard. I’m a soldier.” He shrugs, pacing near the wall while keeping his eyes on me.“Don’t get any closer.” I put my hand on my dagger and give him a side-eye.Something doesn’t sit right. If he’s actually a soldier, that means he should be near the frontier, not here, unless he is on leave. An idiot and a liar, then.“Woah. It’s okay. Look…” He unbuckles his sword and places it on the floor beside him. “Again, I’m a soldier of Eolia.”“And that’s better…why?” My breath relaxes slightly now that I’m the only one with a weapon.“No love lost for the army, huh?”“I’m a blacksmith. Dealing with your kind is my job.” I fumble through my pockets, looking for the feather. If I need to, I can dive from the plateau and use it to summon the wings. Maybe I won’t end up splattered on the valley below.“I am sorry for that. Still, I was minding my own business in my favorite spot on the mountain, but then I heard a cute girl talking to herself about stolen kisses.” With his eyes still fixed on me, he laughs again.Heat invades my cheeks, and I clasp the feather in my hand. Change of plans: I can’t outright stab a soldier, but the metal on the feather’s tip is quite sharp—I could stick it in this guy’s eye, or somewhere else that could hurt even more.He must have noticed the annoyed gleam in my eyes, because he takes a step back, but still keeps his amused smirk.“I was not talking to myself…” I say, still examining him for weak points. His clothes seem too fancy to belong to a soldier: tight brown leather pants and a clean white shirt with a black hide coat, all without a speck of dust or dirt, even up here. My ass and back are likely covered in stains after sitting on the grass and resting against the mountain wall.He turns around and looks at the engraving on the stone. “Jacob Egerston…wait, that Egerston? The blacksmith? He made my first sword.” A glimmer passes through his eyes, and he smiles enthusiastically.With pain gripping my throat, I swallow. “Yes, I am his daughter. Lydia Egerston.” No sense in trying to hide it if he heard my conversation. Also, if he is a soldier, he probably talks with the guards, and my contract with them means they know who makes their weapons.“You are a blacksmith too, you said?” He eyes me with interest, different from before. “The trident today on the pile was yours.”With the morning still fresh in my mind, I can’t recall anyone with his face—I would have remembered someone like that. The offering and the dragons distracted me, but he is…My eyes fall again on his body, on the rhythm of his sculpted chest rising with his breath. “You weren’t there. I didn’t see you, and I have never seen you in the city, actually.” My gaze darts over his firm shoulders and his smiling lips. Why is he smiling? Is he…flirting? Here!?“I know I am not that forgettable.” He hovers a hand over himself, from his shoulder to his waist, as if showing off. He must have noticed me staring. Prick.Molten heat spreads to my cheeks. I should go away, but it has become a matter of principle. This is my afternoon with my father, and, may the Leviathan eat me now, I will not let this green-eyed rooster steal it from me. “Of course, the damn king hired the vainest idiot in the land to be in his army.”He tilts his head. “The damn king? I thought your father was on good terms with him.”My eyes widen, and now I know the heat is pure rage. Is that how the mighty dragon king treats his favorites? I stride towards him and jab his chest with a finger. “Your king killed my father.”His smile disappears, giving way to a somber look. “How did it happen?”I stagger for a moment as I notice how close I’ve gotten to him. “It’s…complicated.”He turns around and sits, leaning against the rock wall with his back. “Tell me.”I gulp at his tone—firm and assertive, but also something else that I can’t identify. I am baffled: he doesn’t seem to doubt my words, and the king demands unwavering loyalty. I need to know more.As I lean against the wall, a gust of wind out of nowhere makes me lose my balance, pushing me towards him. I end up sitting on the floor as well, only a foot from him.When my back touches the stone, I let out a deep sigh. “Why do you care?”“Maybe I can do something about it.”I burst into laughter. Of course this guy thinks he can fix everyone’s problems. “Do something about it? My father is dead.” My voice comes out strangled, and I turn to him, glaring at him even from my height.“I meant maybe I can prevent tragedies like this in the future.” He stares back at me with such drive in his eyes that I have to resist the urge to lower my gaze. I am not backing down.“I take back what I said.”“What do you mean?”“You are not an idiot…You’re completely insane.” I plant my feet in the dirt. I’ve had enough men in my life playing the hero. “What is your plan? To save every dying person in the—”“Would you just tell me?” he seethes, his jaw tense. He seems angry, but…it can’t be at the king, right?“An illness. A fever that he could easily have cured with some rest.”He blinks. “You told me the king killed him.”I tighten my fists. “I meant what I said. He would have gotten rest if the king hadn’t expected him to arm half the army.”Or if I had done my part, if I hadn’t been a useless excuse for a smith.I don’t know if it’s the anger or the grief, but I let out a deep, rough sigh.“This was…five years ago, right?” He looks at the writing near my father’s name. “If I remember correctly, that summer we had a brutal skirmish with the Blood Nation. We won by a hairsbreadth in the last battle. Your father’s work may have actually saved the city that day.”Inside me, a small flame of pride for my father drowns in an inferno of anger. “Do you think I care about that? My father died!” I stand up, my chest heaving and my nostrils flaring. “I would have seen this city burn if it meant not losing him.”He stares at me for a moment, his expression flat and indecipherable. “I didn’t mean to offend you, but your father’s sacrifice was not in vain. You may not care, but the soldiers I fight with do. And so do their families.”“Are you on the king’s side?”“No! The king was wrong.” His voice rises to meet mine, and my jaw drops. To doubt the will of a dragon, especially the king, means death. I’ve seen what happens to anyone King Aestro deems a traitor. If they are lucky, a thunderbolt hits them in the middle of the street, frying them in seconds. If they aren’t, one day they are there; the next, you see the shadow of a black dragon carrying them to the palace. It’s true for siphoners but also for deserters and even for stupid young men who speak ill of him.Suddenly, I realize that I have been speaking ill of him for the past five minutes. To a soldier.One who disagrees with the king.My lips press together for a moment, and I lower my voice. “Should you speak that way of your king?”“If my king is wrong, I should speak up. I don’t want to be someone who ignores other people’s suffering” He stands up and takes a step towards me. He is so close that I can see the pattern of his muscles under his shirt. I can see his chest rise while he takes a few deep breaths and looks at me. Way too close.“Why are you so interested…? And again, why are you up here?”How did he get here? I pass my eyes over him, looking for any hidden object, but all it does is make my cheeks redder and his smile wider.“I would ask what is making you interested, but…” He gives me a cocky grin, and my heart backflips. “I came here to be alone, and I didn’t expect to find anyone else, especially not someone as intriguing as you, Little Ember.”What? “My name is Lydia, not…that.”Little Ember.“I think it suits you. You’ve been red from the minute I saw you, be it from anger or from desire.”“Desire? You are out of your mind! You’ve been nothing but annoying, and you’ve even interrupted a private moment. I am halfway to running you through with my dagger, you insufferable dick.”He just laughs. He dares to laugh in the face of my outburst. “I think it’s quite appropriate, considering your temper.” He takes a step closer and leans towards me. “You get more interesting the more I speak with you.”“Do us both a favor. Throw yourself off this cliff and die.” I stand my ground as he gets closer, and I raise my chin, baring my teeth at him while he is inches away from my face.His warm breath caresses my skin as he just…stares at me, and I concentrate every part of my will on holding that gaze. I won’t let him have the last word.He gets even closer and leans into my ear. “Still, you are a beautiful shade of red.” His black hair sways along his neck, spreading his scent.He smells like rain, sandalwood and…a hint of mint.I jerk backwards and punch him in the face, rewarded with a satisfying crunch.He staggers back, holding his nose. “Fuck!”“Is that hot enough for you?” I give him a victorious smile and massage my fist. Years of hammering iron have gifted me with a hook that even Jack is proud of when he trains me in self-defense.He leans his head backwards and laughs. “You are only proving me right.”“That’s what you get for giving people nicknames when you haven’t even shared your name.” I hate that my cheeks feel flushed, and that a part of me needed to get even closer to this unusual man. But my knuckles on his arrogant, perfect face felt like absolute bliss.“I haven’t told you my name for a reason.” He lifts his hand from his nose, and a few drops of blood drip from both.“Because you hoped to disappear after adding me to your list of women? Sorry to disappoint.”“I never mentioned that. Such dirty thoughts, really…And a powerful punch too. I’m impressed.” He cleans his hand on his pants. I flush again but keep staring him down. “And no, I didn’t tell you because you would…get flustered.”“Try me.”“Fine.” He touches his nose again and sighs. “My name is Zephyr.”
I freeze and stop breathing—I must have heard wrong. Zephyr? That would mean he is…no, of course not. “Sorry…what?”“I said…my name is Zephyr. I am the son of King Aestro, and heir to the throne of Eolia.” As my smile disappears from my face, one blossoms on his.I take a step back and shake my head. “You are lying. You are just angry that I punched you.”

“Care for proof?” With a flash of light, his body grows and changes, black scales making their way over his clothes and skin. A pair of black, leathery wings sprout from his back as he arches forward and stands on four thick, muscular legs—each ending in a set of four razor-sharp talons. His neck elongates like a serpent, wider than my torso, and brings his new head in front of mine, armed with teeth the size of daggers and crowned with a crest of four small horns.The scales are the same hue as his human form’s hair. His eyes are the same color. How could I not have seen it before?His voice, deep and warm, rumbles through me. “Stay still. I just want to talk.”Run!I turn away and dart towards the ledge of the platform. I can hear his talons scraping on dirt and grass behind me, and his wings beating. “What are you doing? Stop!”A gust of wind, again seemingly out of nowhere, strikes my body and pushes me backwards, but I take out my feather and summon its powers—to change the air around me and let me grow wings.The sound of talons stops behind me, and I hear a surprised growl. “What? Where did you get that?”With my heart beating in my chest like a hammer on metal, I reach the end of the field and jump. I dive towards the base of the mountain as my new wings spread. Gliding towards the city, I dare turn my head back only when I’m already far away.I can still see him standing on the mountain, fangs bared in an expression I can’t decipher from afar.He hasn’t followed me—he remained there, even though I’ve seen how fast dragons can fly, and I know I couldn’t have shaken him off.But then it hits me. Zephyr, the dragon I should fear the most in the city, the man whose nose I broke with a punch, now knows my name.

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• Prologue
• Chapter 1
• Chapter 2
• Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A loud and excited gasp escapes from Alice, her blue eyes pinned on me. “You met the prince? Alone?”“Would you be quiet before half of Eolia finds out?” I search the tavern and relax only when I’m sure no one heard her.Luckily, our usual table at the Tipsy Wyvern stands in a corner secluded enough to grant us privacy. Tonight I am almost grateful for the deafening cheers of guards playing cards and drinking their stipends away.I slump onto my chair, and its wooden legs groan against the stone floor with a warning. The smell of wine, beer, and roasted pork fills my nose. “If you calm down, I’ll tell you the rest when Jack comes back.” I give her a playful smile.She leans forward. Her auburn hair bounces in front of her face, and she blows it away with a frantic puff. “Who cares about Jack? Tell me now!”A laugh barks out behind me. “Thank you, Alice. I’ll remember that the next time you ask me to fetch beers.” With a thud, Jack places three full mugs in front of us and sits at the small round table, passing a hand through his short black hair. “What is so important that you couldn’t wait two seconds?”I take a sip, letting the fresh taste lull me away.Alice lifts her chin up with a big grin. “Lydia had a hot date with Prince Zephyr”.My eyes widen. “W-what? I just said I met him.” The feeling of his breath on my skin jumps to the top of my mind.“Yes. You met him alone on top of a mountain, and you just turned three shades redder.” she says while I try not to tap my face—and fail. “Please tell me something happened. You know I don’t pray often, but I will start if it can score you a date.”I laugh despite the embarrassment; this is exactly how I expected her to react. We’ve known each other since we were little enough to sneak into her mother’s room and try on her lustrous and ridiculously expensive gowns, drowning in them. She’s always been a hopeless romantic, and she’s always tried to pair me up with someone.“You know it would be bad for someone like me, right? Nothing happened.”“What do you mean, nothing happened? He’s drop-dead gorgeous! It would be a good bad.”I raise an eyebrow. “How would you know how he looks? They never show themselves in their human forms.” I scan her blue eyes. “Wait, did you…?”“I’ve heard rumors…you know Sylvia, the girl that sells flowers at the market? Apparently, they hooked up, and she says he was—what was the word?—ah yes, mind-blowing.”You are a beautiful shade of red.I shake my head. “So he goes around town and just sleeps with random women?” A tinge of disappointment flows beneath my skin.Wait, why am I disappointed? I wouldn’t want anything to do with that pompous idiot, even ignoring his…general dragon scaliness. Especially considering what he does to people with my gift.Now it’s an image of him in dragon form that fills my mind, one with a mother and a boy in front of them.Please. At least spare my son…I beg you!I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to suppress the memory, and sink my face into my drink.“Is…everything okay?” Jack asks, a hint of worry in his voice. When I lower the mug, I see them both staring at me, frowning.“I…yes, sorry.” I shake my head again. “What were you saying?”Jack grins. “She was being the same old Alice.”“I was not! And also, you’d have to be more specific—I do lots of interesting stuff,” she scoffs. “What I was saying is that Sylvia may be cute, but Lydia is hot.”I give her a big smile. “Thanks Alice. You’re stunning, too.”Jack is right—she is my strongest supporter. She was always nice to me, but ever since my father died, she did everything she could to make me feel better. She helped me with the shop expenses when I was grieving and couldn’t work, brought me out of the house when I did nothing but lay on my bed, and yes, even complimented me and gifted me clothes she thinks I would like.“I know I am.” She smiles wickedly, passing her hand through her long hair. “Still, you owe it to yourself to have some fun! I’m worried about you, always working in that shop, and I am not talking about your contracts.”“What she means,” Jack interrupts her, “is that you are already the best blacksmith in the city. You don’t have to keep trying to push your limits.”I cross my arms. “That is arguable. You know what my father was capable of.”He sighs and takes a long sip of his beer. “We are not talking about your father. You should see the shit we get from the other smithies—they feel like toys compared to what you give us.”As a soldier in the king’s army, Jack could easily earn a place as an idiot at best and a monster at worst in my books, but I have known him since he was little and we used to play with actual toy swords. He’s grown into a man now—a wide-shouldered warrior with military-short hair—but I’ll always see him as the kid who wanted to play the hero against evil dragons.The three of us always stick together, thick as thieves. With Jack returning to the front in a few days, we try to meet every evening, talking about nothing at all and playing stupid games while we drink.It is my favourite part of the day.“Ok both of you, stop it. We are straying from the topic of tonight.” Alice turns towards me and raises a mug. “As usual, I propose a game.”Jack raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just say that we—”“If you had to choose among the royal siblings…” She gets closer and whispers, “Who would you sleep with?”I almost choke on my beer. “Are you mad?”“Oh, come on! You are no prude, so don’t play one tonight.” She shrugs. “Also, every time we mention dragons, you start your whispery speech on how they are dangerous and on how the king is a dick. You never let me tell you the stories I’ve heard about them—at least about the sons. It’s not all black and white.”Except it is: how could I consider someone like Zephyr anything but a monster?I sigh and turn to Jack. “She won’t stop until we indulge her…who would you pick?”Jack shrugs and turns to Alice. “I would pick Notia. I’ve met her once during a visit to the palace. She seemed very…sunny and energetic.”“You know we are talking about fucking someone, not bringing them to a picnic, right?” Alice says, suppressing a laugh.“Ok, I also like red hair. Happy?”“Fair enough. I…would probably pick Boreas. From what I’ve heard, no one has ever seen him in human form. He is…intriguing. Also, he is the biggest of the family, so he must have a huge —”“Stop! We got it!” I pinch my eyes with my fingers and massage them.She just gives me a suspicious and amused look. “Eager to tell us all the nasty reasons you would pick Zephyr?”“I would never pick Zephyr. In fact—” I get closer, lowering my voice. “—I punched him in the face.”“What?” Alice shoots up from her chair, almost knocking it backwards. “You punched him?”“Would you be quiet, for Maiden’s sake?” I lower my voice and look around us. Apart from a pair of guys ogling Alice, no one seems to have noticed us.“Why did you punch him?”“Because he…was whispering in my ear?” It takes just a look for me to regret it immediately, as her eyes fly open and her smile becomes almost theatrical.“I knew it—I knew you had it in you to…no, but, wait…why punch the prince?”“I didn’t know he was the prince, and he was being insufferable and giving me stupid nicknames.”“Nicknames? Like what?”“Like…it doesn’t matter.” I bite my lip and shift on my seat. “I have better things to do than obsess over dragons which, I remind you—” I lean closer and whisper “—kill people like me.”They clench their jaws and exchange a look. Jack turns to me, his eyes serious, and says, “You are right, you should stay far away from Zephyr.”Alice starts, “Jack! She—”“I’ve worked with him. I’ve seen what he does.” His expression is tight, and he clenches his mug. “Once, we were clearing a village over the frontier with the Blood Nation. We had already defeated all the soldiers. There were only women and children left.”I tense and grip my chair. I don’t want to hear this.“He made us stand outside the village and gathered every one of them at its center. He put fire to it and used his winds to fan the flames. I’ve never seen a fire so massive in my life. He is an absolute monster.”Me and Alice both watch him, stunned. It seems like minutes pass, until Alice says, “I…maybe he was just following orders, or maybe—”“He is the royal heir and the general of our armies. Whose orders would he even follow?”“The king?” she says, still hesitant.“The king, who is also his father? They are two peas in a pod—trust me, he’s as rotten as Aestro.”Jack is right: I’ve seen what Zephyr can do and the destiny he reserves for siphoners like me. Does it really matter if he does it because his father tells him to or because he wants to? He is killing innocent people whose only crime is to be born with a gift the dragons judge as sinful.The story Jack told us sounds exactly right for someone like him.The heat of embarrassment rushes to my head. How delusional could I be to forget he was a monster?His voice echoes in my mind. The king was wrong.Alice rolls her eyes at Jack. “If you’re so disgusted by them, remind me why you still work in the army,”“I do it for the same reason you still help your parents, even with your little brothers spending all your money; someone has to be the good guy.” He sighs. “For someone like me, it’s this or going back to growing turnips.”Sometimes I forget how different we are, despite being close friends. Alice comes from one of the richest families of merchants in Eolia; Jack is a son of farmers and sends all the money he can spare from his job to his mother. I am in the middle ground: we never had problems while my father was alive, but it all went downhill when he died.“Do you have to leave so soon?” I ask, following the grooves of the table with my finger while a strange feeling of guilt goes to my chest.“Trust me, I wouldn’t leave you with this one if I could.” He points his thumb at Alice and smirks.“Hey! I am looking out for her!” She raises her chin, with a certain smugness in her eyes.He laughs and crosses his arms. “By pushing the prince onto her? I don’t know about that…”“And do you have any ulterior motive behind your…interest in Lydia’s love life?” Alice looks at us both, raising her eyebrows and drinking with a half-smile.With just a look between us, we blush all the way to our ears. “You know it wasn’t any—” I start.“It was a tough moment, and nothing really—” Jack tries to continue.Alice just laughs, leaning back in her chair, satisfied with the chaos she created. “It’s always funny to see you two squirm.” She suddenly frowns, as if something crossed her mind. “I almost forgot. Lydia, would you be up for…a job?”Soberness comes to me quickly. That pause can only mean one thing; someone needs a siphoner.When money is tight, I take minor jobs if someone desperate enough asks for it; anyone consorting with a siphoner gets the same punishment as the accused. My father told me he’d never done them, but I’ve seen him get out of town for days, only coming back with one or two small bottles filled with essence and more coins than usual.“I don’t know. It feels like I risked enough today for the entire month, and with Zephyr seeing me too…it seems kind of dangerous,” I say, mulling it over.“Absolutely, and I would have ignored it, but they are offering three hundred gold coins.”I almost drop my mug. “Wait, are you serious?” It would take me months to earn that kind of money with my usual work. I could fix the shop and buy new tools. “What would they need for that sum?”“One of our clients told me about it; I don’t know the details. I could send them to your shop if you are up for it.”“Yes! Absolutely!” I grin at her, but then notice how Jack is clenching his jaw and tapping the table with his fingers.“It is a lot of money, and I won’t stop you, but…try not to put yourself in anything shady, okay, Lydia?”My initial rush of enthusiasm cools down, as if Jack poured icy water over it. “Guys, I promise I will be careful, but it’s just too much money to pass up.”Alice nods and raises her mug. “Come on, a toast. To unexpected opportunities, be they cute dragons or piles of coins.”I give her the middle finger and raise my mug with a smile. “Next round is on me, then.”

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