Dragon Whispers: Six Tales of Dragon Adventure and Lore
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About this ebook
Here be dragons … six of them.
Often mercurial, preternaturally perceptive, always inscrutable.
What if you had to barter for your village while tied to a stake? Or if the one thing you always wanted—a dragon of your own—was forever denied? Where might a midnight chase through a stately hotel lead?
From adversary to lover to devoted friend, from epic to urban fantasy—follow six heroines as they encounter six very different dragons. They'll barter and bargain, chase and be chased, and in the end, learn the true meaning of dragon's bane.
Dragon Whispers gathers together the dragon stories from The (Love) Stories for 2020 project:
Aleag the Great
Knight at the Royal Arms
Fire and Ivy
Dragon's End
Heart Whisper
Dragon's Bane
Let the adventure begin!
Charity Tahmaseb
Charity Tahmaseb has slung corn on the cob for Green Giant and jumped out of airplanes (but not at the same time). She spent twelve years as a Girl Scout and six in the Army; that she wore a green uniform for both may not be a coincidence. These days, she writes fiction (long and short) and works as a technical writer for a software company in St. Paul. Her novel, The Geek Girl's Guide to Cheerleading (written with co-author Darcy Vance), was a YALSA 2012 Popular Paperback pick in the Get Your Geek On category. Her short speculative fiction has appeared in UFO Publishing's Unidentified Funny Objects and Coffee anthologies, Deep Magic, Escape Pod, and Cicada.
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Dragon Whispers - Charity Tahmaseb
Dragon Whispers
Six Tales of Dragon Adventure and Lore
Charity Tahmaseb
Collins Mark Books
Contents
Author’s Note
Aleag the Great
A Knight in the Royal Arms
Fire and Ivy
Dragon’s End
Heart Whisper
Dragon’s Bane
Thank you
About the Author
Also by Charity Tahmaseb
Author’s Note
Here be dragons … six of them.
Dragons—often mercurial, preternaturally perceptive, always inscrutable.
Dragon Whispers is an offshoot of The (Love) Stories for 2020 project. In late 2019, I conceived of a project where I’d post a story on my blog each Friday for an entire year. I figured that since we were heading into an election year here in the US, we could all use a little compassion, kindness, and love.
Then 2020 actually happened.
But that’s another story for another author’s note.
However, during this project, I discovered I had dragon stories—in my head and on my hard drive—enough to create their own compilation.
And it’s always wise to give the dragons what they want.
As these stories are (or will be) part of The (Love) Stories for 2020 project, I invite you to read them for free on my blog. Barring unforeseen circumstances, the stories will remain there indefinitely (which is why I’m placing this author’s note at the front of the book rather than the end).
Oh, and I lied. I have one more story for this collection, a drabble (a story exactly 100 words long) first published in Spirit’s Tincture.
Happy reading, and let the adventure begin!
DragonThe Bargain
Mirabella stood tethered to the pole, throat clogged with sulfur. The cavern yawned before her. Behind her, villagers crouched, trembling with anticipation.
The yearly bargain was underway.
A roar. Earth-shattering footfalls. Talons scraped the earth. The dragon closed its wings about the pole; a stream of fire sent the villagers scampering.
In their wake, Mirabelle sighed.
A single talon sliced the ropes. She pulled a key from her bodice, worked it into the shackle around the dragon’s ankle. He bowed his head, in agreement, in gratitude.
She straddled his neck, clutched him tight, and together they rose into the air.
Aleag the Great
The hue and cry of the villagers woke Aleag from a sound sleep. Dreams of ice and granite shattered, leaving him with the scent of spring in his nostrils—the elusive and tantalizing hint of violet, the heavy perfume of lily of the valley. He stretched, dug his claws into the earth, and peered down the mountain.
The villagers clambered up the mountainside, pitchforks and handcrafted spears clutched in their fists—as if such things could pierce his scales.
Did they need to do this every spring? At best, it was tedious. At worst?
At worse, something—or more likely someone—would knock the delicate balance between human and dragon off-kilter. Aleag was growing weary of the whole charade. He wouldn’t be responsible for the resulting destruction.
At the center of the crowd, a young woman stumbled. Her wrists were bound, her feet bare and oddly pink. Her gown fluttered around her ankles like sea foam. Every few steps, she glanced over her shoulder as if the threat was behind her instead of straight ahead.
Curious, Aleag emerged from his cave, tail casting a graceful arc once free of its confines. Sun glinted off his scales, its heat warming his blood and clearing the last of the icy dreams from his head.
He could taste his next meal in the air.
The villagers approached, scrambling over the last rocks and boulders to reach the outcropping that held his cave. The lord mayor took the lead. The man’s blood trembled in his veins. Aleag could feel it from where he waited.
Interesting how some men conquered fear with the threat of shame.
Then again, when you were offering up such a tasty morsel, courage had little to do with it.
Aleag deigned to meet them at the stake, the location where—year after year—they secured their sacrificial lamb, where—year after year—they would barter.
Aleag always bartered.
After all, he saw no reason to make this easy for them.
Someone yanked the rope. Lily stumbled forward, more a dog on a leash than a human being. That someone jerked again. Not Peter. No, never Peter, not in his new role as village lord mayor. Peter wouldn’t soil his hands in all this.
The rope passed from villager to villager—her friends, her neighbors, her patients—until, at last, it was Jack who had the unlucky chore of tying her to the stake.
I’m sorry, Lily,
he whispered, an anxious glance in Peter’s direction.
No more than I am.
She’d known from the start that if it ever came to something like this, Jack would choose Peter over her. He always had, always did, and always with an apology.
At least tethered to the stake, she could see her little cottage in the valley below. Still intact. Still safe. Someday, it might prove useful again, if not to her, then someone very much like her.
The dragon approached, footfalls shaking the ground, pebbles scattering down the slope. A few bounced and came to rest against her bare feet, the feeling of them cool against her skin, like a balm. For the first time in a week, her feet stopped their ceaseless ache.
The dragon snuffled and sniffed, the force of his exhales ruffling her hair.
And you are?
His voice was impossibly low, a quiet murmur meant for her ears only.
Lily.
She managed that single word with her own quiet power, surprising herself, if not him.
Of the valley?
If that’s what you wish.
He snuffled again. I thought I’d detected spring in the air, but I doubt my wishes have anything to do with this proceeding.
Then we have that in common.
He surveyed her with his large yellow eyes, her startled reflection staring back at her from the dark pupil. It was an astonishing thing to be seen so completely. At that moment, Lily felt her entire being exposed—the secrets