Dragon Scales (Rise of the Dragon Riders Book 2), page 1
RISE OF THE DRAGON RIDERS
Dragon Tongue
Dragon Scales
Dragon Fire
Dragon Plague
Dragon Crystals
Dragon Wars
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
RELAY PUBLISHING EDITION, JANUARY 2023
Copyright © 2023 Relay Publishing Ltd.
All rights reserved. Published in the United Kingdom by Relay Publishing. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Ava Richardson is a pen name created by Relay Publishing for co-authored Fantasy projects. Relay Publishing works with incredible teams of writers and editors to collaboratively create the very best stories for our readers.
Cover Design by Joemel Requeza.
www.relaypub.com
BLURB
Will dragons defend a kingdom founded on lies?
Novice dragon rider Cora and her dragon Alaric are determined to rescue their families from the king’s fortress, but after her first attempt at infiltration, Cora is captured! Panic turns to hope, though, when she realizes her captors are antiroyalists. Maybe she won’t have to face Onyx alone…and maybe she and Alaric can have help with their training when a mysterious woman who helped her before is revealed to be the only surviving dragon rider.
But rumors of a new dragon rider are spreading in the Tenegard kingdom, making Cora’s training even more dangerous. And she and Alaric have yet to harness the full power of their mystical bond…a power they desperately need, if they are to have any chance of defeating King Onyx and rescuing their loved ones.
On their own, Cora and Alaric are no match for the powerful sorcerer king. But will other dragons rally to their cause, after a century of lies sent them fleeing from humans? Even as they struggle to form this new alliance, Onyx’s forces are closing in on Cora and Alaric.
And a darkness beyond their imagination looms on the horizon…
MAILING LIST
Thank you for purchasing Dragon Scales
(Rise of the Dragon Riders Book Two)
If you would like to hear more about what I am up to, or continue to follow the stories set in this world with these characters—then please take a look at:
AvaRichardsonBooks.com
You can also find me on me on Facebook and my Homepage.
Or sign up to my mailing list:
SIGN UP HERE
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
End of Dragon Scales
Thank you!
Make an Author’s Day
About Ava
Sneak Peek: Dragon Fire
Sneak Peek: The Dragon King’s Egg
Also by Ava
Want More?
CHAPTER 1
There was nothing particularly intimidating about the entrance to the fortress. It was as normal as a gate could be: a worn lattice grille made of wood pieces connected together with steel bolts. But the guard standing in front of the gate was another matter entirely. With his broad shoulders, square jaw, and a neck that was as thick as his bulging bicep muscles, it was perfectly plain to see that nothing was getting past him—which was irritating, since that was exactly what seventeen-year-old Cora Hart had spent the entire day trying to do.
Sighing, Cora slumped further into the alleyway where she was hiding and she reached out mentally to her bonded dragon, Alaric. It’s no use, she said through their telepathic bond. That guard is as unmovable as the Therma Mountains.
Alaric’s voice came back instantly. He cannot stand guard around the clock, correct? You humans are not designed to work longer than a span of hours before needing rest. Eventually, someone will come to relieve him. Perhaps you can sneak through during the changing of the guard.
Before responding, Cora couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was to hear and speak to Alaric. When they’d first met, communication had been difficult. Well, to be honest, when they’d first met, she’d been so terrified at the approach of an angry dragon that sitting down and having a chat had been the last thing on her mind. But if she had known it was possible for them to chat, she would have definitely tried.
Dragon Tongue, the magic that allowed humans and dragons to talk to one another, had long been forgotten by the humans. And so had the bond that humans and dragons used to share, allowing for the dragon riders of myth and legend, who protected the realm. But myths and legends were all that remained, and no one believed those old stories anymore—except for Cora’s grandmother. She was the one who had brought Cora to the cave where Cora had been able to learn the first elements of Dragon Tongue—just enough that, when she encountered Alaric for the first time, they’d both been surprised when they could understand each other. Not perfectly, not completely, but enough to serve as a starting point.
Together, they had managed to master Dragon Tongue enough to have whole conversations, though the connection had often felt like she was trying to communicate through a thick wall where she could only catch part of the conversation. Now that the bond had snapped into place between them, communication was as easy and as natural as breathing. They could even speak to one another mind to mind—something that Cora still found absolutely fascinating.
Yeah, but if this guy is any indicator, it will probably be another mountain of a guard, Cora grumbled. And if I got caught, there’s no way I’d be able to get past both of them. She was honestly lucky that she’d been able to go this long without attracting any attention, despite the way her rough, rural clothes stood out next to the crisp, neat fashions of the city. Hanging around and just hoping that she’d find an opening didn’t seem like a workable, long-term plan…but it wasn’t like she had a better one.
You should eat something, Alaric encouraged. You are far more optimistic on a full stomach.
I’m not hun— She was interrupted by a gurgling sound as her stomach rolled over. Okay, fine. Maybe I am a little hungry. But you know the second I leave this spot, some opportunity to get inside will pop up and I’ll miss it. She let out a low sigh.
I wish I could help you, Alaric replied, his own voice laced with the same frustration Cora could feel burning through their bond. I do not like being stuck out here, hiding, while you are in there by yourself.
Cora softened slightly at this. I know. We’re a much better team than we are separate, but we have to be careful. We’re the first bonded dragon pair in a century, and King Onyx is looking for us.
King Onyx the Deathless—the man who had slaughtered all the dragon riders of old through treachery and betrayal. A foreign king who had taken Tenegard by force and used magic to convince the native people that he was their savior, saving them from a famine that he himself had created. What was worse, he had used his authority and position of power to wipe away the native, genante culture as well as any belief in the stories of the dragon riders or the relationship humans had once had with the dragons. But Cora and Alaric knew the truth.
What was scarier was that King Onyx now knew of their existence, and he would stop at nothing to destroy them. The good news was that Onyx did not know the specifics of Cora’s identity or which dragon she was bonded to. The bad news? Comparative anonymity hadn’t kept their loved ones safe. Inside that fortress—the same one Cora was desperately seeking to enter—were both Cora’s father and Alaric’s mother. Viren had been arrested on trumped-up charges by an official who had a grudge against him, while Raksha had been taken by mistake. The gods only knew how much danger they were in, and the knowledge that there was nothing she could do to help them ate at Cora far worse than any hunger.
But rushing in and getting herself arrested or Alaric caught wouldn’t help anything, either.
We can’t risk anyone seeing you or seeing us together, she reminded Alaric.
Another burst of frustration came spiraling down the bond. I know, and I will stay here, as we discussed. But that does not mean that I have to like it.
No, Cora snorted. You don’t. But if we’ve any hope of freeing Raksha and my father, this is what we must do.
You are right, of course. It is just so strange that they would bring my mother here. I have yet to determine what is so special about this place. Wouldn’t it have made more sense to transport her to Onyx in the capital city?
It was something they’d been wondering about since the
When Cora and Alaric had finally managed to conjure Dragon Fire, killing Secare and allowing them to evade capture, they’d thought they were safe. They hadn’t realized until Raksha had been reported missing that Secare’s men had found and captured her, bringing her here—along with other prisoners, including Viren—to the fortress smack in the heart of the bustling city of Llys.
It is strange, Cora agreed. You’d think Onyx would want her brought straight to him in the capital. Do you think they’ve realized she’s not a bonded dragon? Maybe they’re hoping to use her as bait to draw you out.
Alaric growled at that. I do not like the idea of my mother being used as bait for anything.
Cora thought of her own father, likely locked away in some jail cell. “I know,” she said, sighing again. “Trust me, I understand.”
The clattering sound of wagon wheels on the cobblestone streets filled the air and Cora straightened up, leaning forward to continue spying on the fortress gate. She could tell from the white uniform of the driver that this was a butcher’s wagon, come to deliver a shipment of meat products to the soldiers. The driver lifted a hand to the guard before pulling something out of his pocket, something gold that glinted slightly in the sunlight.
Cora squinted, leaning even farther out from her hiding spot, attempting to get a better look. Well, this is new, she said to Alaric, watching carefully as the driver flashed the gold item in his hand at the guard. The guard nodded once and stepped back to pound on the gate three times. It opened instantly and the butcher’s wagon was waved inside.
What? What’s going on? Alaric asked.
Cora sent him a mental picture of what she’d seen. I think the driver was showing the guard a seal of some kind. I remember my father telling me about them once. We didn’t use such a thing in Barcroft because the community was so small. There was no sense in choosing someone as the official vendor for the fortress. The town only had one butcher, so of course he was the one who brought the meat deliveries. Here in the bigger cities, vendors must go through a vetting process. The government seal shows that they’ve been approved to enter the fortress without having to go through additional security checks.
And that means that if they show that seal, they can come and go as they please? The guards do not stop them at all?
Cora eyed the gate of the fortress. It certainly looks that way. The guard barely gave the wagon a second glance. Once he saw the seal, he just waved them right in.
We need to get one of those seals.
Yes, we do, Cora said, standing to full height. Any idea on how to do that?
I’m afraid I cannot assist you there, especially not from where I’m hiding.
Cora nodded. She knew Alaric hated being away from the action, unable to help, but him showing up would do nothing but cause panic. Dragons were feared and loathed by the whole populace, thanks to Onyx, and if he showed up at the fortress, the soldiers would be sure to attack. They’d actually considered that as a way to sneak Cora in—taking advantage of the chaos—but they’d decided against it. One dragon couldn’t stand up to a fortress full of well-armed soldiers. There was always Dragon Fire, but given its power, it would be difficult to control. And with a marketplace full of people right outside the gates, the likelihood of injuring innocent people was high. Cora and Alaric had already agreed to fight their way into the fortress if need be—even if that ultimately meant using Dragon Fire—but only if the situation was truly dire. They wanted to exhaust every other possible option first. Using one of those seals was the best possibility they’d come across so far…but first she’d have to get one.
“Come on, Cora, think,” she urged herself. “Think, think!”
Scanning the market square, her eyes fell on one particular building. There wasn’t anything ornate or special about it, but the thick plume that rose steadily from its chimney and the rhythmic ting ting coming from within was so familiar to Cora that she felt as if her heart had been caught in a fist that was squeezing it tightly enough to steal her breath. The blacksmithing forge. It was exactly like the one she and her father had owned and operated back in Barcroft. She had seen it when she’d first arrived in the square, but she hadn’t given it much thought other than to view it as a painful reminder of her father and everything they’d lost. But now, an idea had begun percolating in her mind.
Cora had spent nearly every day of her life with her father in his forge; she knew the ins and outs of smithing like the back of her hand—and in this case, that knowledge might just come in handy. This was the only forge she’d seen so far in Llys, and given its proximity to the fortress, there was a good chance that the blacksmith provided weapons and other services to the fortress. If so, then he had access to one of those golden seals.
I think I have an idea, she said to Alaric, her feet already carrying her across the square. She sent him a mental image of her destination and approval surged towards her through their bond.
The door to the forge was shut, so Cora lifted a fist and knocked firmly, hoping the pounding of her heart wasn’t audible.
“Come in,” a low, gruff voice called out, and Cora pushed open the door, stepping into the thick heat of the forge.
A man wearing a long, leather apron stood near the hearth, working a molten piece of steel on an anvil. His hammer was clutched in one hand, and he used the other to wipe at the sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Can I help you?”
Cora’s mouth was dry, and the words seemed to stick in her throat. The man’s hair, dark and starting to streak with silver, was cropped short in the typical hairstyle of the Athelians—Onyx’s people.
When he had conquered Tenegard, swarms of people from his homeland of Athelia had come to settle there. Many years had passed since then, but the Athelians—known as malhos—had remained, even if they’d never truly assimilated. Cora’s main experience with them had been courtesy of Captain Daggett back in Barcroft: a petty, vain, arrogant tyrant who’d taken pleasure in grinding down the genante townspeople and crushing their culture and traditions wherever he could. As far as she was concerned, malhos were to be avoided as much as possible. If this blacksmith was one of them, then it was almost certain she wouldn’t find any help here.
She looked desperately for any sign that she might be mistaken, that he might be genante after all…but in addition to the Athelian hairstyle, the silver rings in his ears were a dead giveaway.
“Can I help you?” the blacksmith repeated, narrowing his eyes.
It can’t hurt to ask, Cora reasoned with herself. For Papa and for Raksha. Besides, it would look even stranger—and draw even more unwanted attention onto me—if I came in here and then just turned around and ran back out. Swallowing her inhibitions, she cleared her throat. “Hello, sir. I’ve come to inquire about a job.”