Ice Dragon: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (The Dragon Misfits Book 1) Read online

  “Your village doesn’t have what I’m looking for.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  A hint of darkness flashed in Therin’s eyes. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

  Jason needed to return. He’d been gone long enough as it was. He could continue to follow the other man, but doing so would only push him farther away from the village, and it was possible he wouldn’t even be able to get back. Even if he turned around now, it would take him the better part of the day to make his way back, and he would be exposed to the elements by the time he returned.

  The idea that he might learn of magic almost compelled him to remain, but it was the thought of his sister home alone with his mother that motivated him. He’d been gone long enough—overnight, even—and needed to return before Kayla started to worry.

  “Safe travels,” he said.

  He turned away and started back up the slope. He went quickly, pausing to watch where Therin went, but the other man disappeared quickly.

  Jason hurried up the slope. He trudged through the snow, racing along, and as he went, he tried not to think of how far of a climb he had. It was considerable. He was far enough away that it would take the better part of the day to even get to familiar ground.

  He tried not to think about Therin and the strangeness of the man, the magic he obviously possessed, the way he had of lighting fires.

  Magic can change lives. Ruin them.

  When had his father said those things to him? They were memories of advice his father had given him, snippets of conversations that drifted to him while wandering the mountainside, but he didn’t remember him telling him that.

  Magic, though.

  Even if he didn’t have it, knowing that it existed…

  It did nothing for him. Even if it existed—and now that he had seen it from Therin, he believed it did—it didn’t change anything for him. When he returned to the village, he would still be poor. He might have a deer, and he might have some way of staying fed for a while, but how long would that last? Hunting for food had become increasingly challenging, and he would constantly be searching, looking for some way to find the next meal. Eventually there had to be a point where they wouldn’t be able to get another meal.

  Jason pushed those thoughts out of his head. There was no point in them, either.

  As the day passed, his stomach rumbled. He did his best to ignore it, trying not to think about it. Focusing on the hunger did nothing more than remind him of how much he suffered. Instead, he chose to think about what it would be like when he returned to the village, to the deer meat he would be greeted with, and the opportunity to finally be satiated.

  The longer he trudged up the slope, the harder it was. He was tired and growing increasingly exhausted.

  What had Therin been looking for?

  Whatever it was had drawn him into the village, but was it the village itself or was it the timing of his arrival there? Could it be that he’d come for the festival, thinking he might uncover something that would provide him with the answers he was seeking?

  Jason paused, looking downslope. How long had he been going? It felt as if he’d been climbing for hours, and the shifting sun made it difficult to tell. Clouds obscured his vision, leaving a hazy view over everything. He looked back to discover his footsteps were slowly getting covered over, making it look as if he’d only been walking for a dozen steps.

  He wasn’t going to be able to make it back to the village. He was going to have to find a place to hunker down until the evening storm blew past.

  As he climbed, his gaze darted around as he looked for someplace to hide from the elements. Mostly he wanted to get away from the wind, get out of the cold. He could melt the snow, have something to drink, and he could satiate his stomach.

  There was a place, a cave, but it was difficult to reach. Finding a shelter inside it would be even harder, but it might be the only place he could go. Jason trudged along the mountainside, following the stream leading to the cave, until he caught sight of the opening.

  He had neared the mouth of the cave when a glittering caught his attention. Lifting it up, he held it to the fading sunlight. A strange rock.

  It was cold, bitterly so, probably from being out here so long. Still, there was something about the way the light reflected off it that appealed to him. As he slipped it into his pocket, movement caught his attention and he spun.

  It was the same strange movement he’d seen when he’d been by the stream before. Whatever it was blended into the snow, making it difficult to see.

  Jason started forward, ready for whatever might be there.

  He couldn’t tell what it was.

  Maybe it was nothing.

  The movement pulled his gaze again. Quick. Too quick.

  Tensing, he continued to stare.

  Then he saw it. A small rabbit moved along the slope, but not quite where he expected to see it. That had to be what he’d noticed, though.

  Jason reached for an arrow slowly. Any sudden movement would startle the rabbit. At least this way, he could return with another prize. When he reached for the arrow, he pulled his bow off his shoulder and slowly nocked it.

  Bringing it back, he focused, looking out through his silver eye, and used that to help him target the rabbit. He loosened the arrow. It went flying… And missed.

  The arrow streaked past the rabbit, and the rabbit went hopping quickly off.

  Jason scrambled after his arrow and debated chasing the rabbit before thinking better of it. There was no point in hurrying after the creature. It wasn’t as if he had nothing to eat. Then again, if he was stranded out here for the night, he would have nothing to eat.

  Looking up the slope, he tried to figure out how much time he had before nightfall. The shifting winds suggested it had already reached afternoon. With the cold coming, he needed to make a decision, and he hesitated before creeping off in the direction he’d seen the rabbit go.

  As he made his way forward, he caught sight of it.

  The rabbit hadn’t gone all that far. Either the arrow hadn’t startled it nearly as much as he had expected, or something else had caught its attention.

  Jason drew the bow, bringing the string to rest against his nose. He breathed in before relaxing his hold on the string and loosing the arrow.

  This one flew true.

  He struck the rabbit, which hopped once before falling.

  Jason hurried forward, ready to claim the creature, but another surge of movement drew his attention.

  It came from down the slope.

  Figures were moving toward him.

  There were three of them. All of them were dressed in dark jackets—dragonskin—and they were moving quickly.

  Jason frowned, dropping to the ground, the rabbit forgotten.

  He stared, but none of the men were familiar to him. That meant that none of them were from the village, but where were they from?

  7

  The men continued to approach, and he stayed low and close to the ground, using the snow and his clothing to keep him concealed. Jason was afraid to even breathe, worried they would see him somehow. He could head back to the cave, but that would only draw their attention.

  He tried to burrow into the snow, getting low.

  It would be one thing if he knew who they were and why they were here, but there was nothing about them he recognized other than the fact they wore dragonskin clothing.

  Shifting the snow so that it covered him, he tried to be as concealed as possible, but had to do so carefully. The bearskin covered him, but it was dirty, not nearly as pure white as the rest of the snow. If it were later in the day, the bearskin would provide better camouflage than now.

  Footsteps crunched the snow near him.

  Jason kept his head down, trying to keep obscured but worrying they would see him anyway. Steadying his breathing, he remained as motionless as possible.

  The footsteps grew quieter.

  Maybe they were moving away. He couldn’t
tell, and he refused to move until he was certain they were gone.

  He focused on staying as quiet as he could, worried that any sound might draw their attention. He laid in place, unmoving.

  There wasn’t even any speaking. They were moving near him but saying nothing. That unsettled him.

  Another crunch came, more sounds of footsteps, and Jason remained completely frozen in place. Cold pressed along him, seeping through his jacket and his pants, even managing to work up his boots. He thought he was mostly covered, but what if he had not managed to do so?

  Something grabbed him.

  Jason was jerked free of the snow, thrown backward, and a man wearing a dragonskin cloak pointed a sword at him. He had a clean-shaven face, darker skin than those in the village, and short hair. His angular jaw matched his nose, and deep silver eyes stared at him.

  “What are you doing here?” The man had a gravelly voice that reminded him of Therin, but other than his eyes and his voice, nothing else about the two was similar.

  Jason hesitated. He wasn’t about to reveal the presence of the village to these men. There was something… off… about them. “There was an avalanche.”

  The man grunted, but he didn’t put his sword away, holding it aimed at Jason’s chest.

  The other two men approached. They looked similar, and he flicked his gaze to each man, noting that they shared the same eye color.

  “Where did you find him?”

  “He thought to conceal himself in the snow.”

  “Get rid of him, and we need to keep moving.”

  “Look at him, Parson.”

  The other man—Parson, Jason suspected—leaned slightly forward. He was a bit larger than the other two, and he had flecks of gray in his hair. His jaw was square more than pointed, and his eyes were deep silver. Heat seemed to radiate off him, emanating from his dragonskin clothing.

  “What am I supposed to see?”

  “Look at his eyes.”

  Parson sniffed. “Just one.”

  “One. He could be useful.”

  “Maybe. Bind him, and we’ll bring him with us.”

  Jason started to tense, backing away. What did they mean that they were going to take him with them?

  The man who had grabbed him approached, and in a flourish of movement, he sheathed his sword and reached into his pocket, pulling something out from within it. It took a moment to realize it was a length of slender rope.

  “Don’t fight,” the man said.

  “What are you—”

  Jason didn’t have the chance to finish. The man’s hand swept across his face in a hard slap, sending Jason down into the snow. The man was on top of him in a moment, wrapping his wrists together tightly enough that Jason didn’t think he could pull them apart.

  The rope was slender, but it was strong.

  “I told you not to fight.”

  The man grabbed his wrists, jerking him to his feet.

  Jason couldn’t move. They had him bound.

  Because of his eyes.

  Not his eyes. His eye.

  The dragon sight eye.

  The man took a length of the slender rope, hooking it to his wrist, and looped it into his belt.

  He was forced to follow. At first, Jason thought they were going to head toward the village, but that didn’t seem to be the direction they were going. They swept around, as if looping around the outside of the mountain, and never ascended any higher.

  If they were out here, dressed for the weather, it surprised him that they wouldn’t go for the village. Unless they weren’t here to find the village. They had come for something else, but what?

  “Who are you?”

  The man spun and with a slap across his face, Jason tumbled.

  The man didn’t say anything more, just jerked on the rope.

  He was forced back to his feet and scrambled after the man, trying to keep up. His head spun, pain throbbing in his jaw.

  If he could get to his knife, he could cut through the rope.

  He’d have to do it when they wouldn’t be paying attention, although he didn’t know if he would have that opportunity. But if one opened up, he’d need to be ready to run.

  They hadn’t even checked to see if he had any weapons. They had pounced on him, tying him, and seemed unmindful that he would be able to even try to escape.

  Maybe he wouldn’t be able to.

  He tried to move a step ahead so his arms left a little slack on the rope, then reached beneath his jacket and pulled on his knife. He managed to slip the blade from the sheath and then held it carefully. He wasn’t ready to escape quite yet, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he had it, but soon.

  Instead, he just squeezed it.

  What about his bow? He still had that, but without having room to use his arms, there was no way to fire it. It troubled him that they hadn’t even bothered to take the bow off him. It was almost as if they weren’t concerned about him having the weapon. Why wouldn’t they be?

  Unless they had some other way of dealing with him.

  He thought of Therin. He had the same color eyes as these men, which left Jason wondering if perhaps they all had the same abilities. What if they were all together?

  If that were the case, then Jason didn’t want to draw them to the village. He didn’t want to expose anyone to that sort of danger, not even people he didn’t care about.

  At least with the knife, he had a chance of freeing himself.

  They paused, and Parson and the other man headed off for a moment, disappearing. The one with the rope remained, holding on to it and holding on to Jason.

  “At least tell me who you are,” Jason said. When he escaped—and he would escape, as this was his mountain after all—he would need to alert the village that there were strangers attacking along the slope.

  Strangers with magic.

  He spun toward him and Jason tensed, waiting for the strike, but it didn’t come.

  “You shouldn’t be out here,” the man said. “Where is your master?”

  “My what?”

  The man frowned. “You don’t have a master?”

  He watched Jason for a moment, leaning forward, sniffing.

  As before, Jason had the distinct sense of heat coming off the man, a strange sensation that was different even than what he expected from the dragonskin clothing he wore.

  The man turned, and Jason swept his gaze around and decided he had to act. Now.

  The others weren’t here, leaving only this man in front of him. He didn’t know if he’d be able to get very far, but he wasn’t going to remain captured.

  Jason slashed at the rope.

  It came loose and he jerked his hands, getting them free, and went running.

  He’d gone only a few steps before he heard the man shout at him. He ignored him, continuing to run, choosing to head downslope. Going upslope would be too much of a challenge.

  He stayed low, keeping his head bent, and slammed his dagger back into its sheath, spinning around to check if the man was following. So far, he was not.

  There was movement behind him, but it was difficult to make out.

  Refusing to slow, he unslung his bow, grabbing for an arrow.

  He wasn’t about to be caught again, and if he was, he wasn’t going to be dragged away.

  Nocking the arrow, he readied for the possibility that he was going to have to fire on these men. He would only get a shot or two off, and if he missed, he had little doubt they would come racing at him.

  And that was if they weren’t magic users.

  What if they used some sort of fire magic on him?

  He’d seen what Therin had been able to do. While it might have managed to heal Morris, it had also lit a flame. If they used something similar like that on him, would he be consumed by flames?

  Jason tried not to think about what would happen. He tried not to think about what the fire would do, the way it would consume him, and he tried not to think about how much it would hurt.
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  He didn’t even know if they were magic users.

  He slipped.

  Landing on his back, he realized he was lucky.

  Something exploded near where he’d been.

  Snow went flying all around and he continued to slide down the slope of the mountain. Jason rolled, trying to turn so he could see what was coming, but he couldn’t tell.

  A shape raced toward him.

  It was moving faster than should have been possible and he pulled back, drawing back on the bow, prepared to fire.

  As he stared, he locked eyes with an orange eye.

  His hand trembled.

  What was that?

  There came another flurry of movement and Jason continued to slide, trying to maintain his balance, but the snow slipped beneath him, leaving him tumbling down the slope. As he struggled, he tried to rotate around to see what it was, but he could barely control his descent.

  He continued staring, trying to figure out where the men had gone, but he was picking up speed and he couldn’t stop. Even if he were to try, one of the attackers would reach him.

  What was he thinking?

  The farther he went down the slope, the more likely it was that he wasn’t going to be able to get back up. He didn’t want to get trapped down here.

  Driving his heels in the snow, trying to slow himself, he felt something else flutter past him. Another explosion of snow near him caught his attention, and Jason released his pressure on the snow and tumbled down the slope.

  It was better to get farther downslope than to be attacked.

  He picked up speed, sliding faster and faster and holding his bow out from him, much faster than before, and tried not to think about what would happen when he needed to stop.

  If he could stop.

  And then he hit something.

  Whether it was a bank of snow, a chunk of ice, or something else, he slipped up into the air, and when he landed, he did so with a hard thud.

  His breath burst from his lungs and he rested in place, afraid to do so much as breathe. He needed to get moving, but he was afraid to go anywhere until he knew if he was injured.

  Taking a deep breath, he checked his arms and his legs. Thankfully, it didn’t seem as if he were hurt.