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  Hunted

  Dragon Skin Chronicles: Book Two

  by

  Paul W. Eslinger

  Copyright © 2019 by Paul W. Eslinger

  All rights reserved.

  1st Edition. Published June, 2019

  Credits

  Cover Design: Karen Clary

  Cover Photo: Used by license from www.bigstock.com

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Books by Paul W. Eslinger

  The Dragon Skin Chronicles

  Book 1: The Unveiling

  Book 2: Hunted

  The Wormhole Chronicles

  Book 1: The Eden Wormhole

  Book 2: Galactic Exiles

  The WorldWalker Trilogy

  Prequel: Indelible Differences

  Book 1: A Few Extra Chromosomes

  Book 2: Interstellar Contract: Non-Negotiable

  Book 3: Variations on Humanity

  Ivan Oswald Novels

  Ancient Nemesis

  Contact Information

  Contact Paul at [email protected] if you have questions or suggestions. You can “follow” Paul on Amazon by going to Paul Eslinger’s Author Page. Amazon will notify you of new releases.

  Acknowledgments

  Interactions with exceptional people help a seed of an idea grow into a finished book. I wish to thank LeRoy Clary for suggesting this story and for our far-ranging discussions on writing techniques and character development. I also extend heartfelt thanks to the other members of my writing critique group—Michael Castillo, Donelle Knudsen, and Diana Langner—for their many helpful suggestions. Beta readers LeRoy Clary, Donelle Knudsen, Lucy Jones-Nelson, and Dave Nelson made numerous suggestions that improved the story. I also want to thank my wife, Sharon, for letting me spend time writing. My dog, Daisy, deserves special thanks for listening to book-related monologues on our long daily walks.

  Chapter 1 – New Dragon

  I ignored the painful blisters on my hands as I shoveled dirt from the grave we were digging for Trey’s parents. The ground was hard and rocky and we had been digging since mid-day without rest. If we were lucky, we would finish before the sun set over the white peaks of the Basilisk Mountains to the west.

  Finally, I set aside the dull wooden shovel with the splintered handle and said, “Help me move the rest of the big rocks. We can scoop out the loose dirt by hand easier than using these things.”

  Trey dropped his shovel and nodded without speaking. His eyes were red-rimmed from grief, but I had known him long enough to tell he was thinking about revenge rather than my magical healing touch that had barely kept him from dying from the arrow between his ribs. I’d heal our hands after we finished with the grave. In the meantime, the pain from the blisters was a solace we both desperately needed.

  Some of the rocks were large enough that Trey and I had to join efforts to hoist them onto the pile of dirt beside the grave. When we finished digging, the bottom formed an uneven and uncomfortable looking eternal bed. My gaze moved past Trey to the two large buckets holding sand standing by the garden fence. His parents always mixed sand in the rocky soil where they grew carrots. “Come on,” I told Trey, heading toward the buckets. The grave looked more comfortable after we smoothed the bottom with sand.

  I straightened and rubbed aching muscles in my back with both hands as I looked around. We had finished digging, but I needed to stay alert and remember to watch for danger. A hint of white behind a nearby bush revealed the position of Zephyr, the intelligent wolf who was my new companion and magical teacher. She was not participating in the digging, not that a wolf could lend more than moral support for this activity, but I still wondered whether she could have assisted, or at least sat close by to offer her support.

  “You could have helped,” I grumbled under my breath. The words were inaudible to Trey because he couldn’t use magic.

  Zephyr replied in the same way, “This is a job better done by and for humans. You will understand more as you mature.”

  Instead of arguing, I turned my back on her. I reached for the magic coursing through the nearby hills, closed my eyes, and started listening to nearby living creatures in the unique manner of the few of us who had tamed a small measure of magic. Shame brought heat to my cheeks when I realized I hadn’t made a survey for possible trouble since the King’s Hunter had killed Trey’s parents just before noon and seriously wounded Trey. I wasn’t ready to admit to Trey that his parents might still be alive if I had been more observant. A lax attitude on my part had cost innocent people their lives and could cost me mine.

  Trey and Zephyr were near enough that their life-force signs were strong and distinct and almost overwhelmed life signs in the distance. Something about Trey appeared different from a few hours earlier, but I ignored that while I expanded the search, looking for danger and hoping there wasn’t any. There were two deer and a small herd of elk up the valley and numerous rabbits and other small game all around us. Hawks and eagles soared on the updrafts along the steep sides of the canyon.

  There were a dozen humans up at the mine and I could feel a group of over a hundred men down on the other side of the ford in the Quail River. All of them felt mentally slow and downtrodden. Their emotional glows were like candles that had burned through the night with a low, flickering flame. They had traveled a long distance in four hours. Some of them continued to move willingly and others kept going because the guards enjoyed applying their whips.

  Satisfied with the results of the scan, I opened my eyes and glanced at the sky. The direction of the sun indicated we should have another three or four hours of light. However, the sun was already touching the tips of the mountain peaks to our west, meaning that it would sink behind them quickly and the rest of the day would be a sort of twilight known only in the mountains.

  Just because I didn’t sense danger didn’t mean we were safe. Not at all. I had just learned to magically sense where other people were and didn’t have any reason to believe I could sense every person. Also, the man who had killed Trey’s parents might return to check on who was tending to the dead bodies—and kill them as well. While Trey would probably survive to be an old man, I wouldn’t. Some truths are hard to face, but any gambler knowing the facts as I did would have bet on my demise coming sooner rather than later. The killer had struck down his parents while trying to find me.

  I frowned when movement at the bottom of a cloud drifting over the top of the ridge caught my eye. There hadn’t been any birds in the air in that direction during my check a few moments ago. A shiver ran down my back as I concentrated on a new magical search, this time with my eyes wide open. The movement continued and now I could see a dot that must be a large bird, but the magical scan insisted the sky was empty. Memories of a similar encounter yesterday afternoon made me send a silent thought to Zephyr, “That feral dragon we saw earlier is back.”

  “What? They’ve never nested in this region.” The wolf lumbered to her feet and swung her head back and forth as her yellow eyes scanned the sky. She was a huge animal, as long from snout to base of her tail as my outstretched arms, and I was nearly six feet tall with long ar
ms. She weighed twice as much as me. Moments later, she replied, “I see it.”

  The dragon continued to fly in our direction and Trey finally noticed Zephyr’s movement and my fixation on the sky. He whirled around and looked in the same direction. His hoarse voice sounded surprised, “That’s an odd-looking bird.”

  “It’s not a bird,” I replied. “I think it’s a dragon.”

  “Come on, there aren’t any dragons. They’re just creatures in stories you tell children.”

  “Keep watching,” I said without trying to explain how I knew what we were looking at.

  The dragon drew closer and sank lower in the sky. It banked from side to side as it moved through the upwelling warm air along the ridges, but the movements were fast and jerky like those of a bat rather than the smooth flight of a large soaring bird.

  Its body had looked dark against the backdrop of the late afternoon sun but the body took on a deep golden hue when it moved closer. Shards of sunlight bounced off the iridescent skin. The wings were as translucent as a piece of thin oiled leather. The dragon wheeled above us and turned down the valley. Black horns about a handspan in length protruded from the top rear of the head in the same place that horns grew on a goat. A red tongue was visible in the open mouth when it canted its head and studied us with black eyes.

  “Blessed gods protect us,” Trey blurted as he made the traditional warding sign against evil with his fingers. He soon recovered his composure but still watched. “I’ve never seen anything like that. The wingspan of that monster is nearly as wide as my house.”

  “I haven’t either,” I said breathlessly, as I continued to follow the flight path with my eyes. This dragon was bigger and subtly different from the feral dragon I had seen the previous day, like a racehorse versus one pulling a plow.

  Both dragons carried their tail out straight behind their bodies in flight. In the feral dragon, the base of the tail was as big around as the hind legs. This one had a much thinner tail, almost whip-like, and a smaller body in proportion to the wings. In fact, the overall body was smaller than that of the feral dragon. In both dragons, the tail was nearly three times as long as the legs.

  Both dragons had four stubby legs, although the front two looked more like arms that ended in fingers tipped by black claws than legs. Two wings protruded from its back below the shoulders. Bony ridges spread out in four directions above the single elbow in each wing. In a feral dragon, according to Zephyr, the bony wing supports ended in small black spines and the edges of the wings were tattered like old leather or cloth. This dragon didn’t have the spines and the edges of the wings were smooth, so it was one of the intelligent dragons.

  Only ten days had passed since Father had first explained that I had magical abilities, so everything I knew about magic and dragons was new to me. My initial skepticism about his revelation had faded with my increasing knowledge of magic. However, I knew so little I was also like a small child standing beside his mother trying to memorize their letters. My limited knowledge must seem pitiable to the creatures that routinely used magic. I sent another thought to Zephyr. “This dragon matches your earlier description of an intelligent dragon. You need to explain your other comment that intelligent dragons do not travel widely.”

  Her return message was an impression or feeling of noncompliance, sort of like a curtain falling between us. No words were required.

  My heart raced and I spoke harshly without using my voice, “Is this dragon from the Council that banished you? Do you recognize it?”

  Zephyr faced the other direction and ignored my question while showing me her rump. However, she made no move to hide under the thick limbs of a nearby cedar tree, so I assumed she was familiar with the dragon in some manner. That left me with at least two questions. Did she know the dragon and why was she refusing to tell me about it?

  Trey turned and faced me when the dragon glided down into the valley after circling us twice. Trey’s manner turned defensive, or perhaps puzzling would be a better description. He asked cautiously, “How did you know the dragon was there? I happened to be looking at you. You were facing the mountains, not the ridge, but suddenly you turned as if you already knew it was up there in the sky.”

  That wasn’t the way it had happened and I wasn’t skilled in being evasive, but that didn’t keep me from trying. “It moved more like a bat than a bird. It caught my attention from the side of my vision.”

  He stiffened slightly and his chin pulled closer to his neck. He didn’t believe me. He pointed one finger at my chest and his words tumbled out in a flood. “We’ve known each other for at least ten years and we’ve hunted together hundreds of times. You would have said it was a bat if you thought it was a bat. So, I’ll ask again. How did you know it was a dragon?”

  I took a deep breath and tried to salvage the conversation and some self-respect. “I saw a dragon yesterday down the valley on this side of the ford. So, I was thinking about dragons.”

  “That dragon? The same one?” Trey asked, flinging his hand up and gesturing down the valley. The dragon was still in sight as a small blip in the sky.

  “Uh, no, I don’t think so. It was a different one with a smaller wingspan, maybe.”

  Trey hissed as his eyes narrowed. “So now there’s two? Two dragons flying over our houses when we’ve never even seen one. That’s what you’re saying?”

  “I don’t know where they came from,” I protested, holding out both arms. At almost sixteen, I was a year older than Trey and a head taller. However, his intensity and focus made him seem bigger than he really was.

  I took the time to think while Trey took two deep breaths and then started to continue with his questions. Words formed deep in my brain without crossing my lips. I can’t tell you how I know about dragons without revealing the magic that Zephyr can use.

  Trey frowned and stared at me with ridiculously wide eyes. He sounded shocked when he spoke again, “What did you just say?” he asked.

  I grimaced and then recalled my previous words. Ara, my sister, had used to make fun of me when I couldn’t remember more than the last sentence in a conversation. “I said I don’t know where dragons come from.”

  “No, no. You said something else,” Trey insisted. “You said something about you couldn’t tell me what you know about dragons and magic.”

  “I didn’t say that,” I said indignantly and then swallowed any more denials. Understanding flared as I glanced over at Zephyr. “Did Trey just overhear something I said using magic or did I say it aloud? You said it takes magic from both people to mind-talk. That’s why I can’t talk to Ara that way; because she can’t use magic.”

  Zephyr bounded in our direction in a flash of white and came to a stop near my side. Her back was as high as my waist. She canted her head sideways and studied Trey with her long tongue hanging out between large teeth. “He definitely heard your magical talk. I don’t understand why, but he did. It might be good or bad.”

  Trey took two shuffling steps backward and looked at the wolf and then me. His jaw was slack in amazement and he swallowed so hard I could see his throat constrict. “The wolf can talk, too? In my head?” His voice grew shrill. “What’s going on? People keep pet dogs but no one keeps a wolf. How can a wolf talk without using words?”

  After a moment, Zephyr looked up at me and said, “You saved his life. You can teach him to use small or weak magic, but he won’t be able to use strong magic the way you do.” She then turned and calmly walked towards the patch of brush where she had been napping while we dug the graves.

  “Not so quick, I have questions for you,” I snapped while she flopped down on the ground. “A lot of questions.”

  She yawned, showing all of her sharp teeth. “I’ll listen while you talk to Trey.”

  “What’s going on?” Trey demanded. His face turned red and he pounded one clenched fist on his chest. “You disappear for several days a
nd then show up again. I even went over to your house and saw the new grave.” He took a deep breath and wiped the spittle from his lips with the back of his clenched hand before continuing. “Today, I came home to have lunch with my parents and someone had just shot them. The same person shot me, and then you came along, pulled out the arrow, and…”

  His strong emotions made me uncomfortable, so I looked at my hands instead of his face, trying to think of a way to begin talking. Two of my blisters had broken and I could see raw red flesh. That provided an idea, and I immediately raised my hands, palms outward, and said, “Do you have blisters from digging?”

  “Huh?” Trey’s brows bunched together over his hazel eyes and he looked disgruntled. “Why are you asking that?”

  “It’s a long explanation,” I said smoothly, hoping he would calm down enough to listen. “The question is part of the explanation, so let me see your hands.”

  He frowned, squared his shoulders, clenched his fists together, and tensed his legs as if he were going to run. Finally, he relaxed slightly, brought up his fists and opened his fingers, but didn’t move close enough that I could touch him. “I have six blisters, and two of them have popped,” he said.

  I held out my left hand, palm up, and said, “I have several as well. Watch.” As I spoke, I reached for the strong external magic and focused on my hand. The magic flowed into me and into my hand, healing the blisters. Moments later, the blisters had transformed into unblemished flesh. I held the magic in place a moment longer to heal my other hand.

  “Wow,” Trey said. He stepped forward, grabbed my hand with his and peered closely at it. “How did you do that?”

  “Hold out your hands,” I said in the same way Mother had spoken when she wanted immediate cooperation.

  Trey nodded and held out his hands. I touched his palm with the tip of one of my fingers and concentrated the healing magic. Moments later, his hands were once again free of blisters. “It is possible to do wonderful things with magic,” I said as I dropped my hands down by my sides.