The Caged Dragon (Cycle of Dragons Book 1) by Dan Michaelson (miss read books .txt) 📗

11

We rode quickly. I ignored the storm raging around us. I could hear the thunder, but no longer felt it like I had earlier. The lightning flickered in the clouds, not streaks of it descending to the ground the way I feared.

I started to question whether or not my father had been attacked by a lightning bolt, which wouldn’t be altogether surprising with the nature of the storm, though I would’ve expected to have seen burn marks on him. In this part of the world, lightning strikes were not uncommon, and most people knew someone who had unfortunately been struck by lightning.

Joran looked over to me, saying nothing. He rode Wind, so was faster than me. Adela was tired, though she seemed determined to keep at it, plunging ahead as we raced along the muddy ground. We had to go over the loose dirt, off the King’s Road, no longer taking the easier path.

“It might be better if we waited until morning,” Joran shouted against the storm.

“If we wait until morning, then we might lose her,” I said.

“You can’t expect to catch up to a caravan in a storm like this,” he said.

I shook my head. “If the storm slows us, it’s going to slow the caravan as well. I think that if nothing else, we have an opportunity to catch up to them.”

I didn’t know whether or not we would be able to reach the caravan, and didn’t even know if we were heading in the right direction, I only knew what Joran had shared with me. In my mind, I envisioned the Vard attacked the caravan. Perhaps they had even made it look like dragons had attacked to gain sympathizers. It was the only explanation that made any sort of sense. After seeing those men attack that soldierin the city, it was easy to imagine some of the Vard following the caravan and ambushing it. Which meant that my sister was no longer safe. I feared the Vard would turn her into a slave.

Joran didn’t say anything more as we continued riding against the storm. At one point lightning illuminated everything, and I realized we were riding along the edge of the forest. It couldn’t be too far from us.

We’d been riding for a while when I saw the wagon tracks.

I motioned to Joran and he nodded. “This is what we saw before,” he said.

“They were heading toward the forest,” I said.

Joran sat up, looking at the trees. “There’s nothing there.”

I frowned, starting to think whether there was anything that would explain what we could do, whether we could navigate through here, but I didn’t have that answer. The only thing that came to me was that I had already gone into the forest before, following the Djarn path.

That had to be what they had used.

“What if the Vard have the help of the Djarn?”

Joran looked over , watching me. “My father hasn’t mentioned that before.”

“Has your father asked?”

Joran shook his head slowly. “I don’t think he has,” he said softly.

“Which means you don’t know. None of us really know. Not without knowing any of the Djarn.” I motioned for Joran to follow. We headed into the trees and as soon as we were inside, the wagon tracks vanished.

“The tracks disappear here.” I looked up at him. “How do you think they managed to hide an entire wagon caravan?”

“ Magic?”

I wanted to dismiss the idea, but I couldn’t shake the fact that he might be right. Given what we knew about the Vard and what I had seen from the dragon mage, it was entirely possible they were equipped with someone who had magic powers. We hadn’t found the remains of the caravan, though it didn’t really matter. What mattered was following these tracks and finding any survivors.

“If they disappeared, then we don’t have any way of following them into the forest,” Joran said.

An idea began to form.

“Follow me,” I said to Joran. He frowned at me as I turned and veered toward the north. “We aren’t moving fast enough,” I said.

“And you think we can move faster in the forest? We can’t even ride the horses in there. Even if we find a way , we won’t be able to move quickly. We aren’t the Djarn.”

I suspected we could, especially along the Djarn path. It was open enough that I thought the horses could navigate it. Besides, the canopy would protect us from the storm, and would make it easier for us to find our way.

“We know the wagons were heading north,” I said.

“Until now,” he said. “We aren’t going to catch the caravan this way. You’re right. We can’t outrun them with this storm raging , but what if they went into the forest for safety? What if they know the Djarn and can use their paths?”

“I don’t like this,” he said.

I shrugged, shaking my head. “Does it matter? If we can catch up to them, then we can—”

“Do what?” Joran asked. “I want to save Alison just as much as you.” When I arched a brow at him, he shrugged. “Maybe not the same , but I want to help her as well. I don’t want the Vard to do anything to her either.”

“So you think it’s the Vard as well.”

“What other explanation is there?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to work through it and come up with anything that would make sense, but I can’t. As far as I can tell, there isn’t anything else to explain who attacked.”

“Assume this is the Vard,” Joran said. “If we do catch up to them, what do you plan to do?”

I didn’t have the answer. “Rescue my sister.”

“By what means? Do you intend to attack them?”

I looked at him, feeling conflicted.

“I think we need to go back to Berestal. That’s why I came to you in the first place. I thought we could go to the marshal, gather support, and then go after the caravan. If we know they went