The Lost Dragon (Cycle of Dragons Book 3) by Dan Michaelson (good summer reads .txt) 📗

and wait for that force to do that to people I cared about, and wasn’t willing to watch as the king destroyed the place I had grown up just to destroy the Vard.

Where did that put me though?

I reached the edge of the forest, looking out upon the kingdom, the capital, and the Academy on the outskirts. The stone building looked so bleak and desolate in the late afternoon sun, a strange contrast to the energy it typically exuded, almost as if it were trying to tell me something.

It was trying to warn me. I served the king. That was my role. That was why I had come to the city, and why I trained, and why I now understood my connection to the dragons. If I abandoned that, then I was abandoning what had brought me here in the first place.

I took my time heading back, heavy thoughts weighing on me.

3

The bars of the dragon pen were stout. Made of thick bars of metal, many of them engraved with symbols that marked the dragons, they stretched high overhead, easily twenty feet tall. They seemed to create a cage to confine the dragons, though the pen was open to the sky, allowing them to come and go as they pleased. It protected them from people who might come close, rather than protecting people from the dragons. Several dragons were within the pen, curled up, and most were resting. They would come and go, leaving to hunt then returning—all of them connected to the kingdom. Many of them were part of the cycle with me.

I leaned against the bars, resting my hands upon the thick metal, peering into the dragon pen. The small green dragon—not quite as small as he had been before, now that he was connected to the dragons and seemed to feed off of that connection—curled up near the center of the clearing, though he was aware of me. I knew he was.

I focused on the connection I shared with the dragons, feeling the way energy cycled through me, and could feel the power as it flowed out from the green dragon to me, and then out from there to the other dragons. It was a continuous cycle of power, one I no longer broke. It was as if I were constantly connected to the dragons. I wondered if I could even sever that connection if I had to, though at this point, there was no reason for me to do so.

I traced a finger of fire up the bars, around, and then back down. It was a fine, thin band of flame that crackled, giving off a hint of heat, though not so much that it was overwhelming. I could feel its power as it crawled along the bars, and could feel the way that it pressed up against the metal; I was able to keep it there with the control I had gained over the last few months.

After standing there for a while, I began to move the flame from one bar to the next. It was practice, the kind sanctioned by the Academy, permitting me to use my power as a way of testing it. The bars were fortified with dragon mage energy to ensure they couldn’t be destroyed by something as simple as a band of flame like this, so I didn’t fear damaging anything here.

“You’ve been standing there for the last hour,” a voice said behind me.

I tamped down the energy—knowing better than to release it suddenly—and glanced over my shoulder. Natalie approached. She had dark hair, dark skin, and a fluid movement to her gait. Now that I knew she was one of the Djarn, my impression of her had changed.

Before Natalie, I had only seen one of the Djarn, and had never actually interacted with any of them. My friend Joran had some experience with them, or at least his father had. His experience was different though. Knowing one of the Djarn, and knowing that they were . . . so normal . . . was altogether different than what I’d believed my entire life to this point.

As I was growing up, we’d viewed the Djarn as having an almost mythical quality, as if they were something impossible to believe. I still held this perspective, to a certain extent. Having been around Natalie, and having learned she had an element of power different from my own, but still similar, I couldn’t help but feel that way.

“I’ve been thinking . . .” I said.

“Always dangerous for a man like yourself,” she said, joining me at the dragon pen. The ground here was a well-worn path, having been trampled by so many people, including myself, walking around the dragon pen over the years. She glanced over to the dragons, and for a moment, I thought I could detect a hint of power rolling through her, but then it faded. If it was there, it was faint enough that I couldn’t fully detect it.

“I ran into an old friend of mine out in the forest,” I said. “He’s concerned about the Vard.”

Natalie looked over to the forest, frowning softly. “Which means you are.”

“I don’t know if this is the Vard or something else,” I admitted. I didn’t want to mislead Natalie, though she’d done that with me.

Natalie regarded me for a moment, eyes etched with concern. “The Vard have had an intriguing connection to the people over the years,” she said. “It hasn’t always been what we think it should be.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“There was a time when the Vard worked peacefully with my people,” she said. There was a hint of sadness in her voice, and she glanced over to me, shaking her head. “That time was so long ago, I don’t really know about it. It was before me. Before my father, even. Something changed, and my people don’t like to talk about it.”

“Is it why you sent emissaries to work with the king?”

She forced a smile, turning her