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

“Who said they’re working together?”

“Well, for them to have gone into the forest, wouldn’t they have to be working together? My father might have known something given his ties to the Djarn, but then he doesn’t want to instigate the Vard. All he wants is to raise his animals, grow crops, and keep Sophie from growing up too fast.”

The wagon tipped again, as I was thrown forward.

I got to my feet and shoved at the hatch again. I pushed harder, slamming my shoulder into the hatch. There had to be some way for me to open it. Joran watched me, saying nothing.

“The longer we wait, the more likely it is we won’t be able to get free. If we can get it open while we are moving the Vard will have a harder time catching us.”

Joran joined me, and the two of us began to slam ourselves into the hatch. We crashed into it over and over again. The inside of the wagon was small and cramped, only large enough for us to get to our knees, and barely higher than that . Irritation began to surge within me. All of this was because we had come here. Because of the Vard. They were going to sell us, kill us, or use us as slaves. We weren’t going to get out.

Hot anger boiled within me.

My skin started to get tight, as if the heat of the dragon nearby began to put pressure on me. I slammed into the hatch again. And again. Each time I did, I tried to tamp down the rage filling me, but each time I felt that anger boiling up. It threatened to overwhelm me.

“Ashan?”

I slammed up again, forcing my shoulder into the hatch.

The Vard might hear us making noise, but at this point, all I cared about was getting free. Strangely, the burning pain in my belly began to sizzle again. I jumped up one more time, throwing my shoulder into the hatch, and then it exploded.

Darkness streamed in. It wasn’t moonlight, not with the dense canopy of the trees overhead, but I could make out the swaying of branches overtop of us. I reached for the hatch, pulling myself free, poking my head up and looking around.

Wind whipped around me as the wagons continued to roll along the path. My heart hammered, but I didn’t see the Vard. They must not have heard us breaking out.

The caravan continued to rock as we moved. I looked to the front and behind us. We were in the last wagon. Climbing onto the top , I reached down, helping Joran up. He watched me, a strange expression on his face, but I ignored it.

“Come on,” I said, reaching for Joran and wishing Alison were in the wagon with us.

“What did you do?” Joran whispered.

“I just pushed really hard,” I said. “Now come on.”

I crawled forward, racing across the top of the wagons. I reached the next wagon. I grabbed for the hatch, prying my fingers underneath it, and pulled. Nothing happened. I tried again, yanking my fingers underneath the small lip that formed there, and pried my hands under, leveraging them until I could pull upward. The hatch came open.

I looked down inside.

I didn’t see anything. I left the hatch open and tossed the top on to the forest floor. There was no one around us. The wagons were rolling forward, as if the Vard were unconcerned about the fact that we might be able to escape. Maybe they didn’t think we could.

Had I not had that surge of adrenaline, I might not have been able to.

When I reached the next wagon, I could feel the strange heat radiating from it. There was a hint of a glow as there had been the very first time we’d seen it, but not much. I ran my fingers around the square opening and began to pull.

It was stuck.

This one was harder than the other, but I continued to pry, irritation building up within me. Why did I even care about opening the hatch for the dragon?

Deep down, I knew the answer. I didn’t want the Vard to have the dragon, not if they were so willing to attack our people. I didn’t want them to use that against Berestal, to come into the plains and attack even more people. I didn’t want them to have the magic of these great beasts.

Heat began to build again. Light started to glow around the dragon. I pried on the hatch. Something surged within me, anger and rage bubbling up, then the hatch exploded upward.

I glanced down inside. The dragon poked his head up, its long snout pressing forward as it sniffed at the air. The opening wasn’t nearly large enough for the dragon to crawl out of, but I couldn’t be concerned about that. I had done all I could. I had opened the hatch, and now it could figure out how to escape from there. That wasn’t going to be my problem.

I held on to the wagon as we rocked again.

I had to get to the next wagon. We started to turn on another slight bend. There came a shout from behind me.

I spun. One of the Vard crawled along the top of the wagon.

Where was Joran?

I couldn’t wait here. I couldn’t let the Vard capture me again. If they did, I had no idea what they would do, or if they would even let me live. It was possible they’d find me too much trouble.

He came toward me, and I stood frozen, debating what I needed to do. I could try to fight him. In my mind, that was what I needed to do. Fighting him off would give me the opportunity to take his sword, but if something were to happen to me, then Alison would end up trapped.

A steady rumbling echoed from the forest. It was close.

The mesahn.

If the creature was coming, I could use that as a distraction, just as long as it didn’t