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

“No, thank you,” she said.

“Come on,” I cajoled her. “Things aren’t as bad as you seem to think they are.”

“I’m a prisoner of war, no?” Hana asked, in that lovely rhythmic accent of hers.

“Well, yeah, on paper, I suppose you are, but General Shiloh is just making sure that you can be trusted not to do anything stupid. She won’t hold you in bonds like this forever.”

“You seem very sure,” Hana said.

I held the drink higher, and she finally accepted it.

“I am sure,” I said. “I’m sure that you can be trusted.”

“How do you know?” Hana asked me.

“I have had lots of practice judging books by their covers,” I said, sipping my cup of inferno rum. “And you do not strike me as a baddie.”

“No?”

“No.”

“What do I strike you as, then?” the bearmancer asked, taking a tentative sip of her drink.

“You strike me as someone who doesn’t harp on about honor, you just live it,” I said simply.

Hana narrowed her eyes at me as she regarded me over the edge of her cup. Then she said, “You would not have bested me in unarmed combat, as you did in the temple, were it not for that abomination that is the Mystocean Transfusion Ceremony.”

I frowned.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “You’re a mancer too. You have the power of the creature you share your mind with, don’t you?”

“We do not go through a Transfusion Ceremony with the creatures with whom we bond,” she said, her voice colored with mild disgust. “We do not degrade them so.”

“You don’t share your bear’s blood?” I asked, genuinely surprised.

“No. Such a thing is a vile Mystocean custom,” Hana replied.

“So, if you haven’t shared blood with your bear, then you don’t have its strength or enhanced abilities, right?”

The bearmancer nodded briefly; a short, sharp nod.

“Do the Vetruscans not use a Transfusion Ceremony with their bears ever?” I asked.

“No,” Hana said. She drained her cup and set it on a railing at her elbow. She swallowed slowly, looking hard at me.

“Wait,” she said, “you don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” I asked.

“You dragonmancers are actually the only mancers who make use of the bonding magic that you refer to as the Transfusion Ceremony.”

My eyebrows rose. “That can’t be right.”

Hana gave me an almost pitiful stare.

“It is why the other civilizations who have mancers hold the dragonmancers of the Mystocean Empire in such low regard. Many think of them—of you—as being as bad as the Bloodletters, whom you revile so much.”

“Why?” I asked, leaning in closer so that I could be heard over the noise of a brass band that was going hell for leather not too far away.

“Why do you think? For the way that you intermingle the blood of your sacred creatures, your dragons, with those who would use their powers. To go ahead with such a violent and invasive act on such sacred beasts…” The bearmancer shook her head. “The Mystoceans are, in the eyes of these other Empires, abominations.”

It was not nice being called an ‘abomination.’ I felt this even through the fog of the booze that held me tight in a warm, loving hand. It was a big, heavy, harsh word. Sat about as comfortably as a pair of steel wool boxers.

Before I could ask anything else, or get the bearmancer to educate me more on the feelings of those that lay outside the Empire’s borders, the Rank One dragonmancer guard stepped forward.

“Time’s up,” she said, placing an authoritative hand on the prisoner’s shoulder. “The General expressly instructed me that you could watch the lantern release but must be returned to your quarters immediately afterward.”

Hana gave me a last thoughtful look. “Thank you for the drink, Dragonmancer Noctis. It gives me heart.”

“The inferno rum?” I said. “Yeah, it’ll do that. Gives you the gods’ own hangover though too if you over do it.”

“No,” the bearmancer said, trying and failing to hide the grin that lit her features. “It gives me heart to talk to you. You said that you are an astute judge of character, but so too am I.”

The dragonmancer began to guide Hana away, with the firm and resolute hand of one who knows that once they get their prisoner back to her quarters, they can then go and get drunk with everyone else.

“And what do you judge me to be?” I called after her.

“Not like the rest,” came the soft reply.

I stood there, after Hana had been taken away, mulling things over.

But, not for long.

“Mike! I’m so glad that I ran into you!”

It was Elenari.

“Hey, Elenari,” I said, “it’s good to see you.”

I squinted at the elf and saw that she was in full battle dress.

“You look very… dangerous.” I peered at her more closely, and suspicion clouded my face. “And sober. What gives?”

Elenari beamed at me. “And you look the opposite,” she teased, pulling me down so that she could kiss me.

I lost myself in the kiss, allowing my mind to drift like a palm frond caught on a tide.

“Mmmm,” Elenari said, “you taste like a distillery.”

“That’s the taste of desire, m’lady,” I said with a crooked grin. “So, what really is the occasion for you being in full armor?”

“You didn’t hear?” Elenari asked me, a feverish exhilaration burning in her green eyes.

“I don’t think so,” I said, grabbing a tankard from a passing gnoll bearing a tray. “What’s going on?”

“General Shiloh gave me permission to be in the vanguard for three whole legions. We’re going into the Subterranean Realms to secure the ratfolk town, and then press on to explore further!” Elenari gushed.

“No shit!” I said. “Just you?”

“No, there are a few dragonmancers taking other