Mark of the Mage: Scribes of Medeisia Book I

  Chapter 14

  The dragon rex settled back, his rumbling different to my ears now, almost like the moans of an old man complaining about his back.

  “Your mother was a human woman we allowed to ride us on occasion,” the rex said. “She was a kind human with very special abilities.”

  If there were formalities I was supposed to follow I forgot them as I stepped toward the blue dragon, my hands tight against my stomach.

  “What . . . what was she like? What could she do? Did you meet my father?”

  I was near the rex now, close enough to touch him, to feel the scales beneath my hands if I really wanted to. No one stopped me, and I didn’t flinch when the rex’s tail suddenly curled around me, far enough away to give me space, but close enough it almost felt like an embrace.

  “I am Feras. Your mother knew me as such, and you may know me by that name as well,” the rex said.

  I looked up at him. “Feras,” I repeated.

  The blue dragon made a loud keening sound, a deep growl that seemed more pleasing than unpleasant.

  “Soren was a healer. She could heal the spirit and the body. The forest called to her, but it couldn’t speak to her. Not as it does to you. She was soft spoken and gentle,” Feras said.

  His tail drew in a little nearer, and I let the security I felt within its ridged walls make me brave. I felt strangely at home next to Feras, intimidated, a little frightened, but at home. I reached out tentatively and touched the scales on the side of his body. They were as smooth as they looked, and dry, but cool to the touch. Feras didn’t move.

  “Your mother fell in love inside the forests,” Feras continued. “When she discovered she was pregnant, she hid it well. She worked within the villages beyond the woodland. She was a midwife to many, a physician for others. The human king, Raemon, had begun marking people born with magic. He often had midwives with the ability to sense power report any newborns with magic in their blood, and the babes would be destroyed.”

  I gasped. “Babies!”

  “It’s an appalling practice still carried out even now,” Kye interjected from behind us. I didn’t take my eyes off of Feras.

  “I had no idea!” I breathed.

  “You wouldn’t. No one would except those in service to the king,” Kye assured. “It isn’t widely known. Adults marked are shunned, often killed, or placed in the service of nobles who can watch them and later accuse them of practice. Babies who are discovered with magic are removed from their parents’ home after they are born. It’s done with subtlety. They are kidnapped at night or while resting outside as the mother works, and any evidence left behind points to the forest, to wild animals or outlaws.”

  Feras’ tail had formed a chair of sorts, and I sat down heavily. The ridges were uncomfortable against my backside, but otherwise it wasn’t a bad seat.

  “Babies,” I said again. Raemon was killing babies. I felt sick.

  “You were one of those babies.”

  Kye’s words were gentle, careful.

  I froze, my gaze traveling Feras’ blue scales as I twisted to look at Kye and Lochlen. My heart was heavy.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  Lochlen lifted a claw, using it to scratch at a spot on his underbelly before laying on the cavern floor so that his nose was near Feras’ tail, his yellow-green eyes on me.

  “Your mother was a midwife with the ability to sense power. She felt the magic in you when you were still in the womb. As a midwife, she knew the laws, had been ordered like many to report babes with power to the king. Once her pregnancy started to become noticeable, she ran and hid along with your maid, Aigneis,” Lochlen rumbled.

  I stared down at him, my eyes watering. I was one of those babies, one of the children who should have died. But I hadn’t died. I’d lived.

  I’d read of the guilt men sometimes suffered if they survived a battle where many other lives were lost. Guilt that made them question their own life, their own survival. I wondered the same thing now, and it made me think of the texts, of the recorded battles I’d read where survivors took their own lives. I’d read the leather-bound scrolls once in astonishment, wondering why these men couldn’t just be happy they’d lived, to embrace the second chance they’d gotten at life. But that was then.

  I’d lived when many other babies had died, I’d lived while Aigneis was burned at the stake, and I’d escaped while my father was being led to serve the king. Guilt swamped me. It was a heavy burden that settled like a mantle of lead around my shoulders. I swallowed hard.

  “And my mother?”

  Kye cleared his throat. “She gave birth to you on a night of power, the night of a full harvest moon. Hidden or not, your power called to other midwives. They gathered outside the hut where you were born, but Soren had taken precautions. As soon as she birthed you, you were wrapped in a swaddling cloth and Aigneis escaped with you into the forest, running to Garod’s estate.”

  Unease made my stomach churn, and I leaned forward, my fist tight against my belly.

  “My mother?” I insisted.

  Kye looked away. “She was taken away by soldiers. She was too weak to run, and she was killed in Aireesi's main square.”

  I swallowed convulsively to keep from being sick. I would have rocked back and forth if I thought it would help. Aireesi, Medeisia’s capital city. It had been a spectacular city once, full of huge arches built hundreds of years ago by King Hedron, beautiful, daunting arcs made of gold. The mountains had been rich with the precious metal until the rush for bullion had sucked it dry. The arches were in ruins now with the tarnished metal eaten away by the elements. Some arches had been destroyed completely by dragons during the Dracon War.

  I sat up, taking deep breaths to get myself under control before my gaze swept the man and two dragons present.

  “Why was I spared? What is so special about me?” I asked.

  Feras’ tail shifted, and I jumped up to keep from falling onto the cavern floor. His head lowered as Lochlen stood. The dragons’ presence ate up the space in the cave, making me feel small and insignificant.

  “Stay silent, Son,” Feras warned as he moved past me, moving farther into the cavern. Whatever I was going to be told now, Lochlen didn’t agree with.

  Kye sidled up next to me, his hand coming up to my elbow and then falling away again.

  “Come,” he said. “He wants us to follow.”

  I looked up at him, noting the way his cheek bulged where his teeth were clenched.

  “Who do you ride? Which dragon?” I asked.

  Kye’s eyes moved down to meet mine.

  “I am Feras’ rider.”

  I was stunned into silence as we fell into step behind Feras and Lochlen.

  “The dragon rex?” I asked, my tone full of disbelief. “The way he spoke of my mother, I’d, um, I’d thought maybe she was his rider.”

  Kye’s hand took my elbow then, but I didn’t pull away. His touch caused a maelstrom of emotions inside me. Hatred, admiration, gratitude. I wasn’t sure which emotion I felt more of, and I didn’t really pursue the thought. There were too many other important things to focus on at the moment.

  “Your mother was the dragon queen’s rider, Feras’ mate.”

  My lips formed an o as I digested Kye’s words. Of course Feras had a mate. He had Lochlen after all. I searched the cave.

  “Where is she? Will I meet her?” I asked eagerly.

  Kye’s hand tightened on my elbow.

  “She’s dead, Drastona.”

  “Oh.”

  My spirits fell. So many dead over the years; so many innocent lives lost and many of them because of me.

  “None of this is your fault,” Kye whispered.

  I glanced up at him, at the way his dark hair fell into one eye. There was pain in his gaze, scars that seemed even deeper than mine.

  “If I hadn’t been born, there are so many that might have lived,” I said.

  Kye’s gaze moved
to the dragons’ backs as he moved closer to me, his head lowering. He was tall, but not a towering man. My head came up to his chest.

  “If you had not been born, there would be no chance for any of us to live. Not now. Not during these times.”

  His fervent tone touched me in ways nothing else had in days. He really believed I was something special. He really believed I could help the rebels.

  “People die for freedom, Drastona,” Kye said. “They die so others may live.”