Chapter 1
“You’re coming with us, beautiful.”
Skye battled the terror that froze her in place. The expressions of the five grungy men surrounding her reflected their steely determination and lust. Skye didn’t detect a sliver of compassion or sympathy.
Vultures.
“Nothing to say, blue eyes?” a voice from behind her asked.
Skye glanced over her shoulder. A bulky man walked forward. She turned slightly but froze as the first man who’d greeted her took several steps forward as well. The circle around her was solid without gaps. At least not at torso level. Her fingers tightened on the straps of her light backpack.
“Hey! What’s going on?” a male voice called from a few feet away.
Everyone turned to see two men approaching. One carried a bottle of amber liquid in his left hand.
“Beat it. She’s ours,” the thug closest to the newcomers growled.
“Now, that’s not very neighborly. We thought you might wish to join us in some whiskey,” the man holding the bottle suggested, waving it around. His voice was slurred and slow.
“We capture her and dispatch them.” This recommendation coming from one of the men Skye now thought of as vultures didn’t surprise her.
While they considered that, their attention wavered from Skye. Without a second’s hesitation, Skye threw herself to her knees and scrabbled through the opening between the men’s legs. The stench of their bodies assaulted her nose, but it only lasted a breath. She raced for the men who’d risked interrupting and darted behind them without a word.
“Seems like this young woman wants to go with us,” the second man said. “We’ll just take her off your hands.”
Her first savior turned and gave Skye the bottle. “Hold on to this for me. I don’t think they’re smart enough to walk away.”
She shook her head, agreeing. Whatever the group of thugs were, it wasn’t intelligent. Vultures. She definitely didn’t give away that he had slipped her a knife as well.
With a wild yell, one of those vultures raced forward. His weak approach was nothing like the swooping forays of the dragons who raced in Skye’s dreams at night. She stepped slightly back from the men who’d come to her defense to give them room and lifted her two weapons.
Gone were the days when she rode the bus to the park to draw or sat in a class, trying to capture the feminine beauty of a model. Skye had gotten this far on her trek back home by being alert and hiding from threats. Lost in thought, she’d missed the warning signs of this attack. She had to survive to reach her hometown. Wyvern.
While the men in front dealt with the first attacker, the others raced forward to join the fray. One of the lowlifes sidestepped the others to target her. When he grabbed for her upper arm. Skye whacked him over the head with the bottle, stunning him. That vulture staggered back, weaving uncertainly. Another took his place. Skye held on to the neck of the shattered bottle.
Another man reached for her and missed, seizing a handful of her blonde hair. She slashed at the tresses, using the sharp glass to free herself. A second thrust of the shards at his face sent him wheeling away. Skye didn’t celebrate. She rebalanced herself, expecting a third to target her.
To her surprise, no one attacked. She scanned the area. Three ran away and two rolled in agony on the ground. Skye relaxed. The threat was over.
“You just had to spill our last fifth of whiskey, didn’t you? I gave you that knife for your protection.”
Skye noticed the slurred speech had evaporated. He wasn’t drunk—just crafty. She shrugged and adjusted her backpack, not sure how to answer that. Reversing the bottle, she held the safe end out to him.
“I think that’s done its job. You did well. I’m Derek Lowe.”
“And I’m Brooks Battlefield.”
“Skye.” Her voice sounded raspy to her ears. She hadn’t spoken for days.
“Let’s get out of here, Skye, before they find friends. We’re headed to Wyvern,” Brooks said.
Skye pointed to the east and repeated, “Wyvern.” She started walking. The men fell in beside her after a second’s pause. The trio continued walking for several minutes, checking behind them to ensure they weren’t being followed.
“You don’t say a lot, do you?” Derek asked.
She shook her head. Words were usually unnecessary. Skye didn’t waste them when they weren’t critical.
“So, you’re Skye from Wyvern?” Brooks asked.
Skye nodded.
“What are the odds of that? It appears you were meant to join us, Skye. Welcome to the trek from hell. Those guys were angels compared to what’s roaming around out here,” Derek shared.
At her nod, he continued, “Where were you?”
She didn’t need any clarification. When all things tech ceased to function, a gigantic time marker had appeared in everyone’s life. Skye guessed it was like a war or when men walked on the moon. She turned to show him the backpack looped on her shoulders.
“Peabody Art School,” Brooks read.
“Ah. That’s why you don’t say much. You’re one of those unconventional artists,” Derek teased.
Not taking offense, she nodded. Some people used humor to make fun of others. She didn’t get anything negative from Derek’s statement. Besides, he was correct. Art was her passion. And she was definitely… quirky.
The trio continued to walk. Eventually, the guys started talking amongst themselves. They included her politely from time to time. Skye was okay with their conversations. Her companions were interesting and had adventured here and there.
She tried to absorb details from their stories so she could learn. That was how her brain processed things. Bits and pieces of unrelated information eventually settled into a pattern that only she seemed to understand. Skye guessed that qualified her as quirky.
As darkness gathered, Brooks suggested finding a place for shelter. The men spotted an abandoned house. After searching the building from top to bottom, the three traveling companions decided to stay there. The idea of sleeping in a bed sounded great to all three of them.
Skye tried not to think of the people who’d lived there. The pictures still hung on the walls—parents, twin male teenagers, and a baby girl. The guys had guessed the latter was an oops baby, but Skye could tell the entire family loved her.
“Hopefully, they’ve moved to be with family,” Brooks suggested.
The diapers stacked under the changing table made Skye suspect something else had happened. She walked through the other bedrooms, studying their artifacts to honor them. Everyone deserved to be remembered.
With that task finished, she chose a bedroom to check for supplies to sustain her on the journey. Under one of the twin beds in the bedroom decorated with posters of country music stars, Skye discovered a stash of junk food. She carried the box to the family room where the men relaxed.
“Food? Skye, you’re amazing. Brooks found a few water bottles in the laundry room. There are even a few jugs of distilled water. We can clean up.”
She smiled at that idea and raked her hand through her now uneven hair. The missing chunk was a harmless thing to lose, but it bothered her artistic need for balance and symmetry.
“Yes. There’s plenty of water for you to wash your hair,” Derek assured her. “You take first pick of the food.”
After selecting a package of powdered donuts and accepting a bottle of water from Brooks, she settled on the couch. The men joked about stealing each other’s favorites from the box, but Skye noticed they each ended up with something they enjoyed.
Skye spotted a pencil sticking out from under the couch. Pulling it free, she abandoned the food and walked to the wall, illuminated by the last light of the day. The men stopped talking, which meant they were keeping an eye on her. It didn’t matter if she had an audience or not. Once she’d sharpened the pencil with the knife Derek had slipped to her earlier, she sketched the arching sweep of a wing. This would definitely not be a vulture.
The next day, Skye brushed her wet hair from her eyes. She’d heard the men discussing her picture as she took her turn getting cleaned up. They’d marveled at the detail she’d added to the unfinished drawing. It hurt to leave it, but the need to reach Wyvern overruled her desire to stay and complete it.
“Skye, why did you draw a dragon?” Brooks asked.
She’d picked up from their conversation that each had spotted dragons high in the clouds after all the changes. Skye had known all her life that dragons existed. She pointed to the majesty she’d tried to create in her picture.
“I get it. Dragons are beautiful,” Brooks guessed.
“They also breathe fire and stomp on enormous buildings,” Derek pointed out.
“Oh, man. That’s Godzilla. Was he supposed to be a dragon?” Brooks asked.
Skye wrote “dinosaur” in the dust gathered on a nearby table, unwilling to allow her precious dragons to be lumped in the same category as the movie villain.
“Oh. That makes sense,” Derek said. “It’s not like I can search for it on the internet anymore. The things I miss….”
They plodded along, each apparently lost in their thoughts of all the technological features that no longer existed. For Skye, losing the animation tools she’d used to help her drawings come alive hurt the most. They had made the dragons in her dreams real.
At each rest stop, Skye decorated whatever surface she could with the dragon images in her mind. She added color when possible and celebrated when she had the supplies to create blue or bronze creatures. Those felt the closest to her heart. Probably because of the only item she’d brought with her from school.
Blunze was irreplaceable. The only item in her backpack, Blunze was the most important thing in her life. She suspected that Derek and Brooks had spotted the well-loved blue dragon with bronze scales stitched in patches along its form. Skye had demanded her mother teach her to sew so she could make the plain blue dragon complete. Unable to sleep without her dragon, Skye wasn’t embarrassed for the men to see her childhood stuffie. They already knew she was… different.
On the fourth day, they reached the border of Wyvern. To their surprise, a large, corrugated steel and stone barrier stretched around the outskirts of their hometown.
“Was this there when you left?” Derek asked Skye.
She shook her head.
“It appears we didn’t find the only bad guys lurking around. The townsfolk have set up protection for themselves,” Brooks suggested. “I think we can climb over it if we work together.”
After several attempts, they figured out how to use the men’s strength and Skye’s tall, slim build to their advantage. Finally, they stood inside the protective ring, a bit more scraped and battered than before.
“I’m surprised there aren’t any guards on patrol,” Derek said.
Seconds later, a dark shadow coasted over them, making all three travelers scan the sky. Without hesitating, Skye jumped up and down, waving her arms as she yelled, “Here! We’re here!”
“Skye, wait! What if he’s not friendly?” Brooks ran to her side and wrapped his arms around her to quell her signals to the beast.
Skye shot him a glance of absolute disbelief at his ignorance.
“That look just reduced your IQ a hundred points,” Derek observed.
She shrugged out of Brooks’s hold and watched the massive creature turn and dip his head toward the small group. “He’s coming!” Skye celebrated.
She walked slowly forward as he settled. Skye wanted to rush but forced herself to give the magnificent creature the respect and honor he deserved. She studied and made mental notes of the onyx scales that seemed to absorb the morning light. His body and legs were powerful and thick, while his wings appeared translucent. Deep inside, she knew the latter were much tougher than they appeared. How else would they support the huge beast in flight? Skye clenched her fingers into fists to keep from touching him without permission.
Sir Dragon.
The dragon inhaled as if testing her scent. Did the light in his eyes dim just a bit? Instantly, her heart went out to the dragon.
Little one. You are able to speak to my mind.
She smiled at the surprise in the dragon’s words that reverberated in her brain. I’m astonished as well. You are the first dragon I’ve met.
Am I? Your manners are impeccable. While, on the other hand, your companions seem to think you are about to be eaten.
Whirling, Skye spotted Derek and Brooks behind her. They called for her to rejoin them with words and gestures.
“It’s okay,” she assured them before she turned back around.
What is your name, Little one?
I am Skye. They are Brooks and Derek. We are all from Wyvern. She didn’t dare ask the dragon’s name. He would tell her if he wished her to know.
Then it is good we’ve met. I am one of the protectors of Wyvern. I am Keres. The border officials are coming.
The sound of an approaching group on horseback made them turn. A rider slid down from his steed to approach the group. “Thanks, Keres. We’ll take these criminals into custody.”
“Hey, wait. We’re all from Wyvern. Can’t we return?” Derek said quickly.
“Who are you?” one of the men still on horseback called.
“I’m Derek Lowe.”
The man grinned and dismounted. “I’ll be damned. Derek, I’m Paul Vanhyde.” He walked forward to shake Derek’s hand and whack him on the back. “We went to school together. Derek is related to Khadar’s mate.”
That statement turned everyone’s stern expressions into smiles. Well, except for Keres. Do dragons ever smile? As if he knew she was thinking of him, Keres sent her another message.
I will fly you home.
Skye waved at the men who’d traveled with her for the last several days. “Keres will take us into Wyvern.” The border patrol whispered their amazement that the dragon talked to her.
“Can we trust him?” Brooks whispered to Derek. Skye glared at him.
Keres shifted in a stunning display of shimmering darkness. When he stood in front of them in human form, dressed in black, snug-fitting jeans and a matching T-shirt, Keres stared at Brooks. “As one of the dragons sworn to protect the offspring of the settlers of Wyvern, you are safe with me. To suggest otherwise is an affront I’ll attribute to your ignorance.”
“My apologies, Keres. I did not mean to question your integrity. I am not used to living, breathing dragon shifters,” Brooks said quickly.
Keres appeared to consider this. Skye glanced down to hide a smile, loving every second of being in the dragon’s company. Her heart overflowed with excitement as her treasured dreams came true. “Dragons,” she repeated to herself. This was a fantasy come to life.
Keres considered her and then announced, “I will forgive the insult. Next time, I will simply drop you on the rocks.”
“Deal,” Skye announced quickly. Brooks and Derek wisely stayed silent.
In a few moments, the patrol helped prepare them for transport. They wrapped each man in protective leather, for Keres would pick them up in his claws. Skye waited to see how she would travel. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to contain her excitement as Keres shifted once again into his black dragon form. Despite her best attempt to follow this transformation, Skye couldn’t figure out how it happened. It was simply magical.
Come, Little one. You will sit between my wings.
She stepped closer, unsure of how to climb into position. Skye placed a hand against his scales and recoiled at the feeling that she was doing something extremely wrong. A wave of sadness touched her mind before Keres shut it down.
It is okay, Skye. You are not meant for me. This will be uncomfortable for you, but you must hold on for your safety. Step on my leg and then throw your leg over my neck.
Keres bowed his massive head to help her as she followed his instructions. Her brain screamed at her to let go, but with Keres’s support, she settled into place.
I’m sorry, Keres. I don’t know what’s happening.
I do. You will soon. Hold on, Skye.