Dragon Chameleon: Episodes 1-4 (Dragon Chameleon Omnibuses) Read online

  Dragon Chameleon: Episodes 1-4

  Sarah K. L. Wilson

  Published by Sarah K. L. Wilson, 2019.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  DRAGON CHAMELEON: EPISODES 1-4

  First edition. May 16, 2019.

  Copyright © 2019 Sarah K. L. Wilson.

  Written by Sarah K. L. Wilson.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Dragon Chameleon: Episodes 1-4

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  To the intrepid reader:

  Behind the Scenes:

  For all the heroes who think they aren’t heroes … this one is for you.

  Dragon Chameleon: Rogue’s Quest

  “Time, the ever-rolling river, takes memory to a place she’s never been and warps even the truest tales to ghosts of themselves. Thus, it is with stories and legends. They ever grow and branch, even as their true origins fade, lost in the minds of the dead and from the tongues of the living. Who knows today who will be the hero of tomorrow or what strange event, small to us now will be the splinter in the heel of Fate.”

  - Ibrenicus

  Chapter One

  DRAGONS.

  They haunted my dreams and brought their magic to my thoughts. I’d watch the sun come up and wonder what it would look like from up there in the sky, smell a fire and think of their burnt breath, hear their roar in the howl of the wind. I’d do anything to ride one again – even if it meant running over rooftops, dressing up as a foreign assassin, or even stealing magical artifacts that might come to life and steal my soul.

  If that old man hadn’t promised me the chance ... if he hadn’t made that absurd agreement ...

  I was angry just thinking about it. I don’t like liars. But that’s only because I am one.

  A boy’s got to make a living somehow and in a world like this one, sometimes a lie is worth more than the truth. I hate it when I lie – but I hate other people’s lies even more.

  The old man lied to me. That was becoming more obvious every day. If he hadn’t lied to me, I wouldn’t be stuck in the decomposing city that I used to think of as home.

  I trudged through the hardening mud as snow swirled around me and I tried not to think of the night when it had been magic, ashes, and flames filling the air instead of snow. Those memories were still too fresh. If I thought about them the wrong way, they drew blood.

  I didn’t even bother to clutch my cloak close around me to keep the wind out. It was threadbare and had been for months. There wasn’t cloth to make better clothes. There hadn’t been any in the months since the armies had swept across our sky city, first toppling it to the ground and then burning it to cinders.

  A man in a once-rich tattered cloak shied away from me as we passed, clutching the pommel of his sword. As if he had anything left to steal! That cloak was as worthless now as mine was. War made all men equal in suffering and despair. And what was left when it was over? Was death by armies worse or death by the slow grinding starvation of ruined stores and winter here?

  “Tor! What does Ephretti say about supply trains? Will they return soon?” a voice called to me. It was old Badge. He’d been a hawker before the city fell and still was – though he mostly hawked crow pies now or stew that he assured me contained no rat. I knew better. He’d need to be a Magika to have any real meat here.

  I glanced around at the burnt-out buildings around us. Someone had set up a pair of shanties and a washing line across the street. A strong wind could knock the whole establishment into wreckage. Why did anyone bother washing clothes? We all smelled the same. No one could get the smell of fire out of our clothes or consciences.

  I sidled up to Badge’s hand-cart. I should be hurrying. I could almost hear Castelan Ephretti chastising me in my mind.

  “Cities don’t run themselves, Tor,” she’d say. “Not even ruined ones.”

  But the smell of the stew made my mouth water even when I knew what was in it. Badge had carefully carved the sign of the Lightbringers into the side of the cart – a sign to potential customers that he was trustworthy, or at least smart enough to pretend to be trustworthy.

  “Any rat in the stew today?” I asked.

  “Shhh!” His wrinkled brow furrowed, and he scanned the people hustling past – mostly remnants of the city of Vanika’s population before the war, but with some strangers bearing the marks of the conflict on their bodies or in their scattered minds. Badge leaned into the cold wind to avoid being blown over. “No lies about my food! I serve only the best!”

  It was amazing we had anything to eat – even rat. Winter is a bad time when you have no stores, goods, or coin. Worse when shelter has all been burnt up and wood is scarce.

  I had a feeling someone was watching me and I turned to follow Badge’s scanning gaze but nothing looked amiss in the hurrying shoals of gaunt people. We were all the same these days – drab, mud-covered, cold, and hungry. No single person stood out in the crowd. Everyone could be watching us – or no one. Why couldn’t I shake that feeling, though? I could almost feel the gaze of a hidden watcher burning a hole through my back.

  “Ephretti doesn’t know, old friend,” I said. “She sent a request to the Dominar for help. Who knows if it will even be read.”

  “They can’t leave us here to starve – even you don’t get enough to eat and you work for the great lady,” Badge objected. “We used to be one of the great cities of the Dominion. Castelan Ephretti will find a way to save us, just you watch!”

  I always felt nervous when the city folk talked about Ephretti like she was a great glowing savior. I hunched my shoulders uncomfortably. There was a time when I thought the same way. Ephretti and her great Green dragon had filled me with the same awe she inspired everywhere. Our savior. The magical, death-defeating, Ephretti Oakboon who had saved us all. Char was still in the air from the night she’d saved us.

  It didn’t take long in a place like the crumbling ruins of Vanika to realize she was mortal, too. I wouldn’t usually care. Wouldn’t usually concern myself with false promises, but I was still stinging with the lie I’d believed.

  I wish I’d never believed it. If I’d never hoped, then I wouldn’t need to despair. But more than a month had gone by since the old man promised to return for me. How much longer should I wait before I gave up?

  “There are rumors,” Badge said leaning in. “Rumors of spies. I think I saw one today.”

  “Only rumors,” I said, but I felt the creeping sensation move up my spine.

  “Word is that the nations banded together against us in the war. Word is that some of them still have it in for us.”

  Maybe it wasn’t too late to head south. Find my way to Leedris City or another Sky City. There had to be food somewhere. And shelter, too. I was sick of crowding into a room three to a bed – if I made it indoors in time to get a place at all.

  Maybe I’d go all the way to Dominion City and see the Dominar with the shining Dragon Crown. They said he rode a purple dragon. They said he destroyed the dust demons that razed our city. They said he commanded dragons and brought up magical ghosts from the ground to do his bidding. They said he was the son of the Skies and Stars.

  Badge leaned further in, frowning when a passerby turned to look
at us. “Ko’Torenth, boy. Rumor says they’re out of magic and turning an eye to us to take ours.”

  “Do you see any magic around here?” I asked, stepping back. “All I see is ashes and ruins.”

  “Sometimes the best magic is hiding in plain sight.”

  I ran a hand over my face. No point in thinking about leaving. Better to be hopeful. I’d heard some of the boys say they were going on a treasure hunt tonight, looting the burnt-out husks that had once been shops and homes. That could be fun. If we were really lucky, we might even find something worth trading for. Maybe even something magical. I must be hungrier than I knew if I was daydreaming like that!

  Or we might find what we found last time. I shivered at that thought. A lot of people had died in the flames. People I knew. Best not to remember.

  “Can you spare a bowl of stew?” I asked Badge, shivering and forcing my thoughts back to the here and now.

  “Not for a boy who can’t pay.”

  I grimaced as my belly rumbled, pulling out a set of cups and a small wooden bowl from my pockets.

  “How about a game of Find the Weevil? You guess where it’s hiding and no stew for me. Fail, and I get the stew without paying?”

  Badge shrugged and looked bored, but I knew he’d say yes. He liked my antics. Most people did. If you could keep a man watching and entertained, you could convince him to give you almost anything. The key was to get his attention in the first place. The cups helped with that.

  I set out the cups on his cart with as much drama as I could muster in the cold. My hands felt slower than usual in the icy wind, but the smell of the meaty stew cut through the cold and my mouth began to water. Don’t think about rats, Tor. Concentrate on the game.

  I produced the wooden ball with a flourish, placing it under one cup and then began the dance of shuffling cups, fast and furious. I was already raising an eyebrow and getting ready for the mind game that would lead Badge to the wrong cup.

  “Which cup?” I smiled charmingly, my hand hovering ever so slightly closer to a cup I knew was empty.

  “The left.”

  I pulled it up to reveal the empty space. “One more try?”

  “I don’t know why I let you do this to me.”

  I did. There was little to entertain in a despair farm like this ruin. A man would give up real coin for a few moments of forgetfulness – never mind a bowl of rat soup.

  I shuffled the cups again. Quick and dramatic, so he would lose track of the actual cups in the motion of my hands.

  “Guess again.”

  “Middle.”

  I looked up with a grin, lifting the cup to show the space beneath was empty. Badge’s mouth was open and eyes wide.

  “I know, it’s shocking how good I am at this.”

  His mouth worked like he was trying to talk, and I turned curiously to look over my shoulder. Panicking wasn’t my style. Neither was breaking a sweat.

  Behind me, a man was standing stock still in the courtyard, his mouth open, hands held before him with fingers spread wide, as if he had been holding ice that had melted suddenly through his fingers. There was something strange about his eyes. I squinted to look closer.

  Who was this guy? I didn’t recognize him but considering the size of the city and the constant influx of refugees, that wasn’t saying much. I would recognize him if I’d met him before, though. You had to be good with faces if you wanted to pull cons. Otherwise, you couldn’t keep your marks straight and you’d end up putting your foot in it.

  So, who was this guy stealing my show?

  He stared directly at me, like he knew me. Abruptly, he howled, and a swirling silver light filled his eyes and then with a sound like a pop it burst down his cheeks and flowed out like water. It trickled down his body, down his legs, down to the muddy ash of the street.

  The silence in the road was so thick, I could have eaten it to fill my rumbling belly. No one moved. No one spoke. I sure didn’t. If I spoke, that might make it real.

  Skies and stars, it had better not be real!

  Where the light puddled around his feet, tiny dust devils swirled like localized storms. I shivered, gripping the cups in my hands. My memories of the dust demons that once filled this land were still too fresh. But whatever this was, it wasn’t an Ifrit. The ash swirled up, building in height and strength until it formed a branching figure like a mockery of a man. The ash kept bulging and swirling until three figures surrounded the man. He was frozen in place with his mouth open – whether from fear or awe – just like the rest of us.

  I swallowed. I had no weapon – but then again, these swirling figures had shown no aggression. The man in the center of them moved, breaking the stillness, but his gaze was still locked on mine. With a single cry, he lunged toward me. I jumped, but I didn’t need to. He didn’t take a single step. The swirling ash creatures pounced, covering him in their dark, fluttering forms and then – as if the wind had stopped – they fell to the ground and the man under them was gone, leaving nothing but a heap of black ashes where once they all had been.

  There was a clatter behind me and I turned to see Badge leaning on his cart, his face white. The stew was strewn across the street as the pot rolled away. As if by magic, life returned around us. People shook themselves and began to move again, asking questions, cursing under their breaths.

  “I think I’m seeing things,” Badge said, tracing the sign of the Lightbringers over his chest. A lot of people were doing that these days, as if a sign could ward off evil. I’d never seen a sign do anything. I’d only seen people doing or not doing.

  That old man had better hurry up and keep his promises or I wouldn’t be here when he returned. This place was getting too creepy for me. I could have sworn that man was after me ...

  I hurried to gather my ball and cups, but a second clatter startled me. Badge’s ladle rolled across the street, his eyes wide as saucers.

  “Skies and stars, man! Get a hold of yourself!” I said, rolling my eyes to turn a second time and look at the square behind me.

  I turned just in time to see a purple dragon skidding through the pile of ashes in the center of the street as he landed. His claws bit into the stone-mud-ash of the street and he sneezed violently, filling the air with an acidic smell. People scattered, screaming and running or standing like frozen nightmares like old Badge.

  It was easy to forget how big dragons were. This one was large and gnarled, bulges and knobs on his forehead and down his legs reminded me of the hoary eyebrows and wrinkles of an old man. But old or not, the towering height, glaring eyes, and fiery breath of the great beast was enough to make anyone freeze in fear.

  At least his breath was warm – the kind of warm that suggested he’d flamed something recently. I tried not to squirm at the thought. Free warmth was hard to come by, no matter where it came from.

  I swallowed instead, keeping my hands where he could see them, but offering my most charming grin at the same time. Rule of thumb: never let them see you sweat.

  Around the hulking purple dragon, the last remnants of the crowd scattered like dry leaves in the wind, but I stayed steady, looking past the dragon’s beady eyes to the grizzled rider on his back. His purple scarves flapped in the wind, but his old back was straight and his gaze level.

  “There’s no time for staring, boy. Are you ready for what I promised you or should I leave you here in the dust and ashes?”

  Chapter Two

  “YOU’RE LATE, OLD MAN,” I said with my cheekiest grin.

  “I’ve been busy, boy. The war might be over, but the trouble hasn’t stopped,” Hubric said. He looked just as I remembered him. Old and weathered like a rock in the rain - but just as unyielding. His gnarled hands were sure and capable. His Dragon Rider leathers creased and worn with words inscribed on the belts. He was too bright against the dark silhouette of the broken city.

  I’d been waiting for him for so long that it was hard to disguise my excitement. I tried to stay smooth and unaffected, but I could tell my excitement was leaking out in the tone of my voice.

  “Trouble?” I arched an eyebrow.

  “Trouble. Trouble everywhere.” He ran a hand over his face. The rest of the city was back to business as usual, fleeing the cold with cloaks and hoods pulled in tight around their faces. Nearby, Badge blew on his fingers to warm them as he collected his ladle and pot. I moved in closer to Hubric. Everyone was listening. Everyone was always listening, and his look told me these words were for me only.