Chosen: Book 1 in the Dragon Queen series

I stuck my head out of the doorway, checking both ways along the corridor outside. No one was in sight, but if the voice had been speaking from just outside the door, Brunna would have been able to hear him. At least there was no sign of the mage.

“What just happened?” Brunna’s voice was tight with tension. She took a cautious step, reaching forward so our fingers connected.

I took a more decisive step out of the room. “Someone’s helping us,” I told Brunna. “And I’m all for it.”

“But who?” she hissed.

“Someone who doesn’t think we should be locked up in here.” That was a sentiment I fully supported, although my heart was beating fit to burst as I slipped outside, pulling Brunna with me. Someone wanted us free, but there were sure to be guards. What was a prison without guards?

Nothing. The corridor was short, a dead-end in one direction while it led to stone steps in the other.

“What if it’s a trap?” Brunna hissed, fingers twisting in my sleeve, chains chinking as she moved.

“We’re already trapped. Why spring another?”

“I don’t know, I just – I’m scared,” she admitted.

“So am I. But I’m more scared of sitting and waiting for that mage to come back than I am of trying to find a way out.”

Come to me. Quickly.

“Come on.” I cupped Brunna’s elbow, holding the links of her manacles to keep them still and silent, and headed up the short flight of steps. A crossroads met us at the top, a level corridor stretching left and right while another flight of steps led down straight ahead of us. “Which way?” I murmured.

Brunna began to ponder, but I’d asked the question of the voice that might be speaking solely in my head.

Towards me.

The voice seemed to come from straight ahead. “This way,” I told Brunna, plucking at her sleeve.

“How do you know your way?” she hissed.

I wished the voice would sound for her, too. It would make things easier. “Magic,” I said, using her catch-all explanation.

It didn’t work when I used it. “What magic? Are you having a vision? Who is guiding you?”

“I’m not sure. He says he can get us out.”

Brunna huffed disbelievingly. Perhaps I should have told her I’d had a vision, she’d have believed that. “And you believe them?” Whatever had happened to the open, trusting young woman I’d travelled with from Besserton? I supposed being attacked, twice, held in a cell and tortured could do that to even the most sweet-tempered of people. She was never going to be the same after this.

I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “I don’t think we have much choice.”

We crossed the corridor as silently as we could, starting down the stairs without being spotted or challenged. A lack of obstacles gave Brunna too much opportunity to think. “We should get out. Not hurry after imaginary voices.”

“And which way is out, Brunna?”

She looked around. There were no windows, no convenient signs pointing our way; no indication of which direction would lead out of our prison.

“Exactly. We might as well do what this voice says.” She frowned mutinously. I folded my arms. “Look, if it is in my head, so what? Imaginations in my head served us well enough in Midwood, didn’t they?”

“I suppose.”

“Right.” I continued down the steps. A moment later there was a scuff and a clank as Brunna followed. We reached another dead-end, although the corridor here ended in a door, firmly closed and bolted.

I am inside.

I stopped before the wooden door. “He’s in here,” I told Brunna.

“Who’s in there?” She eyed the door uncertainly, then looked back along the corridor to the steps we’d just come down. I understood her caution. I wasn’t overly keen to put myself inside a place that we could once more be locked into. Brunna breathed anxiously at my shoulder. “This feels like a trap.”

“Everything feels like a trap, because we’re already trapped.” I set my hand on the first of the bolts. I knew what Pa would say about trusting voices only I could hear, but Pa wasn’t here. We’d trusted a vision only I could see, after all. This wasn’t so different. “Whoever’s inside, they can help.”

She grunted, unconvinced.

The first bolt slipped free. “Whoever they are, they’re locked inside. They might be tied up, like I was. You wouldn’t leave someone like that, would you?”

She huffed. “I might have done if you hadn’t pointed out that’s what I’d be doing.”

I smiled. “You do the top bolt; I can’t stretch that high.”

She reached up while I bobbed down and tugged the low bolt free. They moved easily; silently. Whoever was inside, they were visited regularly. I shivered, wishing I hadn’t imagined the mage striding into the cell and finding us there as well as his usual prisoner.

The door swung wide. Within was a good-sized room, seeming bare of furniture from a quick glance, filled mostly by the glow of a slumbering fire in the hearth that half-filled the wall opposite.

Come in. And fasten the door.

“Come on.” I took Brunna’s elbow and hustled us inside. “We should close the door.” Since she couldn’t hear the voice, I translated the request. “So no one can follow us.”

Brunna grunted, but she helped me push it back into place so a quick glance would reveal nothing amiss.

We turned to see the owner of the voice. I couldn’t find anyone at first. Whoever was inside was hidden in the shadows away from the fire. I took a tentative step forward. “Hello?”

Come closer. Let me see you.

I shivered. The words reminded me of the tales Ma Henderby read to us when we were small, where children’s curiosity was rewarded by being eaten by bears or enslaved by witches. Still, I wore a cursed necklace and we were both inside a mage prison, so any warnings had unfortunately come far too late. I took one step, then another.

A pair of dark, liquid eyes were the first sign of the room’s inhabitant, reflecting the firelight as it craned to look at me. I frowned. The eyes were low. But they also seemed far too big for a man. I craned forward to see better, my heart beating hard.

Here you are at last. Not quite what I expected.

I heard the words in my head, although from the tone I thought he was speaking to himself. “Nothing about this trip has been what I expected,” I replied.

He started and a large head lifted. My apologies. I have been without civilised company for too long. I meant no insult. I am honoured to meet you.

I took another step, rounding the fire so it was now to my left while the room’s inhabitant was straight in front of me. I gasped as I realised my error. He wasn’t a man.

He was a dragon.

His head reared up as I approached, watching me as intently as I watched him. He was as big as a carthorse, blocking the firelight entirely when he sat up. I blushed. I wouldn’t tell the dragon that was the comparison that came to my mind. Something told me he wouldn’t find it flattering to be likened to faithful, plodding Oak. I found myself comparing him with my Dragon. I chided myself – he wasn’t my dragon. He never had been and he certainly never would be now. But the differences were marked. The size, of course. This dragon was at least six times the size of Dragon. I’d expected to see the glint of scales in the firelight, but the creature’s hide seemed to absorb light rather than reflecting it.

“It’s a dragon,” Brunna said, arriving behind the creature.

I didn’t take my eyes from him. “Yes, I can see that.”

“I meant that it will be working with the mage. You were wrong to think it would help us.”

The dragon’s head swung on its long neck to face Brunna. The fire beside us flared higher. I am no friend of the mages!

Brunna took a step back at the movement, then straightened and lifted her chin. “You don’t scare me,” she said, although she couldn’t keep the waver from her voice.

“He says he’s no friend of the mages.” I glanced around the room, taking in the sparse barrenness – and the barred door. “He’s clearly their prisoner, Brunna; trapped here like us.”

“But dragons and mages work together. Everyone knows that.” Brunna’s gaze darted to the door. “We should get out.” While we still can, her tone implied.

The dragon’s neck arched. Your … friend displays her ignorance. Can you not command her to be silent?

I coughed at that idea. Brunna might even obey. But I’d never expect her to. “You’re being pretty ignorant yourself,” I pointed out. “Can you talk so Brunna can hear?”

The magic will not stretch so far. I can only speak to you because you have been chosen by the queen.

“What?” I’d never even met the queen. Getting mixed up with the mages was proving enough of a mistake. I didn’t want to snag the attention of anyone more important in Muirland. “I think you’ve got me confused with someone else.” Locked away in here, I’d bet the dragon had never met the queen, either. “Even so, I’d like Brunna to hear.”

I cannot... I don’t have enough power left.

“I’m going to have to translate,” I told Brunna. “He can’t talk aloud.”

She glanced back at the door. “That’s probably good.” She spoke in a whisper. “We shouldn’t talk, either, it might draw attention.”

“No. We should get out of here.” I turned to the dragon. “How do we escape?”

I need your help. I cannot remove the chains on my own.

“He’s chained up. We need to set him free.” I stepped forward, finding the glint of firelight on iron links across the dragon’s hindquarters.

“Is that safe?” Brunna murmured.

“You wouldn’t leave him to be their prisoner,” I countered, following the links to find an end. “Is there a lock?” I asked the dragon. If we needed a key, this was going to be a brief and unsuccessful rescue.

No lock but magic. You should be able to counter it.

That didn’t sound terribly likely, but nor had much else that had happened in the past few days. I’d give it a try.

Brunna was examining the dragon’s back. “What’s the matter with you?” she asked him.

“Brunna!”

“He’s ill, look.” Brunna pointed at the curve of the dragon’s back, where the bones of his spine were clearly visible.

Most of my strength is gone, he said calmly. Stolen by the mages.

I leaned closer, slipping a hand between the chains that criss-crossed his back and his hide. The dragon’s skin wasn’t how I’d expected. Dragon was covered in glittering scales, while this dragon had skin that was pale and soft. I glanced up at his head and gasped, understanding. He had lost most of his scales. Two rows glinted around his neck, sweeping up to his head, but the rest… I glanced around, as though I might see a pile on the floor. As though they could possibly have simply fallen out.

Heat and hate and fear swept through me when I remembered the casual violence of the mage who had made my necklace burn. Much more likely to have been ripped off by men who wanted his magic. “I think the mages stole his scales,” I told Brunna. “And his strength went with them.”

No wonder the dragon was angry at the suggestion he was working with the mages. I continued my search and found the end of the chains, my fingers fumbling as I unwound them so I could pull the chain aside and let the dragon out. “Give me a hand to get him free.”

“Stolen?” I understood the disbelief in Brunna’s tone as she joined me … who would dare to steal from a dragon? But I was more cynical than my friend. I knew just who would dare – a mage had exactly the arrogance to do as they pleased. Especially the one we’d had the misfortune to meet.

Quickly. The dragon shook off his low mood, raising his head. As he straightened in the firelight he looked magnificent – as magnificent as a pale, bald dragon could be. My loss does not matter. Together we will leave this place. I would that I had the power to shake it to its very stones, but it will be enough for me to see the sky and feel the wind again. I will deliver you to the queen and know that I have done a good thing.

“Yeah—” I would have argued because I had no desire to meet the queen, but at that moment a noise sounded in the corridor outside. It was followed by a shout. “I think they know we’ve escaped.”

Hurry, the dragon urged. Together, we dragged the chains aside, heaping them on one side of the stone floor.

The shouts drew closer.

The dragon shook his head and extended his neck. You must hold on tightly.

“Where?” I looked over the smooth body. There was nothing providing obvious grip.

Hold the tops of my wings. He spanned them helpfully to the sides.

“Hold his wings.” I placed my hands carefully on the thick ridge at the top of his wing, half-lying across the leathery skin. On the other side of the dragon Brunna did the same. Our gazes met, doubtfully, across the dragon’s back. “Like this? Doesn’t it hurt you?”

A rumble of what I thought was laughter – or the dragon equivalent – shook the flank beside me. You are as a gnat’s bite.

The sounds of commotion drew closer. Brunna and I clung to the dragon’s wings as he drew himself up. Heat and air swept around us, flicking my hair against my face and obscuring the room we were in. The dragon roared and the fireplace before us flew outwards. I crushed my eyes shut against the dust and fragments of brick flying past. The wing beneath my hands jolted and my feet lifted from the ground.

The door behind – below – us crashed open. My necklace burned and I screamed as the dragon pulled us with him to freedom.