Dragon Breeder 3 by Dante King (motivational books for students txt) 📗

bouncing and rebounding off the cavern walls and running off down the tunnels branching off it.

Diggens Azee collapsed in on himself, laughing so hard that I thought the bastard was going to be sick. Over at the campfires, those who had been playing cards looked up from their hands. The mouths of some of the women had fallen open. To my consternation, most of them were looking at me.

“What…” I started to say.

I glanced down and saw that Diggens, despite being in the middle of dying from laughter, had his arm up and was pointing at me.

I looked back at the twenty flabbergasted watchers.

“It wasn’t me,” I said, and gave Diggens a kick.

My nostrils flared as a bit of chuckling started up amongst the coterie soldiers, probably instigated by Bjorn, who was somewhat of a connoisseur when it came to toilet humor.

“Fuck me,” I said, peering down at the prostrate gnoll, “I can taste pie.”

Tears were running down Diggens’ green face. “Not surprising, really,” he managed to choke. “Not when I’ve dropped my lunchbox with that sort of gusto!”

Eventually, Diggens managed to get himself under control.

“Strewth, that wasn’t a bad little breezer that one, was it?” he said.

I looked at him expressionlessly. “So, that was all a load of shit was it? Not the gigantic fart you just deployed, the part about you feeling something weird about this place, I mean.”

Diggens considered this, the self-satisfied smile on his wide face slipping a little.

“Nah,” he said. “That feeling I was talking about wasn’t just a case of flatulence brought on by Old Sleazy’s gastronomic delights, fella. There is something else.”

The gnoll reached down and began unfastening his bedroll from the top of his rucksack.

“I fear we’re going to be in for some trouble down here, Mike Noctis,” he said. “Diggens Azee can’t be sure of too much in this life, but he can bloody well guarantee you that.”

I left Diggens to sort out his sleeping spot—and wipe his ass—and went to converse with the other dragonmancers. Out of respect for their station, their campfire was set away from the coterie members.

Once again, I was impressed and humbled to see how everyone ate and talked together like equals, both dragonmancers and squad members alike. The coterie members were all getting along like a house on fire, gambling and joking and telling tales of their training and the scrapes they had been in.

Ashrin and Jazmyn weren’t all high and mighty, as I had worried they might turn out to be. They had shown the more severe sides of their personalities at times during our trek, but I figured that was to be expected on a mission of such magnitude.

The two more experienced dragonmancers were speaking with Renji and Tamsin when I stepped into the circle of warmth. Renji, as armorer and quartermaster, was admiring their equipment, while Tamsin was asking the black-clad women about their Titan Slots.

“Both of us have, indeed, unlocked the Titan Slot,” Jazmyn admitted.

Tamsin and Renji exchanged looks of respectful awe.

It was funny to me, in a way, to see the usually fierce and foul-mouthed hobgoblin acting like a starstruck teenager. It appeared that even the hardest and sharpest warriors had soft spots.

“But it can’t be a whole lot of use down here, with such confined spaces, surely?” she asked Jazmyn.

Jazmyn glanced over at Ashrin. The two exchanged impish smiles.

“Your dragons don’t always have to be large, you know,” Jaz said.

“They don’t?” Renji asked in her solemn, imperturbable voice.

Jaz snorted, ripped a bit of jerky off a strip she was holding in her hand, and masticated with obvious relish. She caught me looking at her, rolled her eyes heavenward, and said, “Even Old Sleazy’s fucking jerky has that something special!”

“You were, um, you were talking about being able to choose the size of your dragon when you utilize your Titan Slot…?” Tamsin said, trying to keep her tone respectful while she was obviously eager for an answer.

“You can shift their sizes as the situation requires it,” Ashrin said.

Tamsin let out a little growl of delight and clapped her long-nailed hands together.

“I had heard rumors of this, but my preceptors would never tell me whether it was true or not when I asked them,” the hobgoblin said, her bright golden-yellow eyes flashing with excitement. “They always said that such things, such knowledge, had to wait. I knew it could happen, though!”

“But how?” Renji said, voicing the question that was on my tongue also.

Ashrin looked at the three of us and bit her lip. The gesture was an innocent one, but it still sent a flash of heat to my groin.

“It’s normally something that dragonmancers are only taught when they reach Rank Three,” Ashrin said slowly, “but, considering the importance of this expedition, perhaps Jaz and I might be able to teach you girls a trick or two…”

Jazmyn shrugged and ripped off another bit of jerky. “Any edge we can get down here could be the difference between success or failure. I think it could be a good idea. So long as you girls don’t go shouting about it when you get back to the Academy, obviously. I don’t feel like being on the receiving end of a world-class General Shiloh asshole tearing.”

Ashrin launched into a long-winded explanation about the mental magical controls needed before one even thought about accessing their Titan Slot. I was just leaning forward to immerse myself in the description when I caught sight of Diggens at the back of the cavern.

The gnoll was crouched over, his snubby nose almost touching the floor, and looked to be searching for something. Every now and again, he would prod at the hard earthen ground with a thick finger. Slowly, and without a glance at us, Diggens cruised off down a passage and out