Page 5 of The Uncrowned King (The Bastard Duology #2)

CHAPTER FIVE

The wind caressed his scales as Derek soared beneath the glow of the two moons, its touch as light as a lover’s, the whoosh of his wings soft. There was little human movement in the dead of night, but a daring few snuck out to commit foul deeds.

But the night belonged to a world mortals would never appreciate. Nocturnal animals that blended into the shadows to hunt for their prey. Flowers that bloomed solely beneath the glimmer of the indulgent moonbeams. Plants that favored moonlight to the harsh, relentless sun. A symphony of sounds only heard when the double moons reigned in the inky sky.

Derek soared over the top of the forest. He had traveled southeast, far from the snowy mountains. The trees were turning the vibrant shades of autumn as a crisp nip entered the air, warning of the winter to come. He found a clearing and dove toward it, tucking his wings as he picked up speed. As he reached the treetops, he shifted forms, tucking and rolling before landing with one knee on the ground.

He rose as smaller animals scurried to safety. Changing forms had become easier after the first time. Maybe it had always been easy. He wished he could remember, but found nothing but a void each time he searched for something from the past. It terrified him. He didn’t know who he had been, what he thought…

Or who he knew.

Derek glanced at his nakedness. Miena had warned him before he left that he couldn’t walk among the humans while naked. He hadn’t wanted to ask her what human males wore. Instead, he had studied them in the first village he came across. From then on, he had only to think about the tunic, breeches, and boots for them to appear on his body. Derek chose all black. As he rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, he tried not to think whether the color choice had been something he would’ve worn before the injury to his head. That was how life would be now.

Before and after.

And he hated every moment of it. No amount of despising his situation would change it. Only knowledge could.

Derek took his time walking through the forest, enjoying the sights and sounds. Miena hadn’t appeared to him again, but he didn’t doubt she would pop up when she wanted. So far, all the mortals in the two villages and one city he had visited had relayed the same thing: Dragons were to be feared.

But with that came a deep-rooted terror of anything—and any one —with magic.

None of it sat well with him. How could it when he was a dragon, and magic was a part of who he was? It wasn’t like a second skin he could shed and forget. It was in his flesh and muscle, in his bones, his very essence.

Derek didn’t have to wonder what humans would think if they discovered the truth. They would attack without thought or reason. When that kind of fear drove someone, that was all they could focus on. There wasn’t room for consideration or rationale. There was only the need to kill what frightened them.

The tales he heard about the dragons striking without rhyme or reason were disturbing on many levels. The humans didn’t pose a threat. But he was told the dragons would land in the middle of villages and engulf structures in dragon fire. The worst, however, were the stories of the dragons eating mortals.

Why? He kept asking himself that over and over, but he had yet to come up with a reason. He was missing something, some piece that would surely cause everything to make sense.

And all the while, in the back of his mind, Derek wondered if the humans spoke about him. He couldn’t shake the thought that he could have— might have—attacked mortals. It troubled him, and the more he contemplated it, the more agitated he became. He could ask Miena, but would she tell him the truth? He just didn’t know.

And that was the rub. The uncertainty. The constant, mind-numbing doubt.

Derek wanted to accept whatever she told him, if for no other reason than to have someone to fill in the blanks. She expected him to believe every word that fell from her lips—the power emanating from her was proof of that. But he didn’t.

A few things felt right. His name, for one. He’d also sensed there had been a battle but couldn’t discern where or with whom. Shifting, obviously. He also suspected that everything Miena said about herself was true. There had been arrogance in her words, and a superiority only someone who wielded such tremendous power could have.

Why him, though? Why had she chosen to aid him ? If she had helped at all. He didn’t like the conflicting thoughts, especially when it involved someone who held all the answers. It would be easier if he believed everything she said.

He stopped at a tree and sat between two large roots that cradled him perfectly. Derek leaned his head against the trunk and stared at the blanket of stars through the tangle of branches. He had soared high, aching to touch the stars, expecting breathing to become difficult. But it didn’t. He had finally stopped when he could see the thin layer of atmosphere that separated him from space. He hadn’t crossed it.

Derek wondered what it was like to move about the stars like Miena and the other Star People. How many other worlds were out there? How many dragons? Were there others who were alone, like him?

A sigh escaped. He wasn’t lonely. Far from it, in fact. It made him think that he had been on his own before. It was just a deep sense within him. The same kind of acknowledgment that he’d gotten about his name. If only it was so easy to discern other truths.

He closed his eyes and let the night music of the forest fill him. Sleep wasn’t a necessity, but he found it cathartic to shut his eyes and rest. It helped to calm his chaotic thoughts.

As he settled deeper into the tree, a cool wind brushed against him, ruffling his hair. He reached up, and like the many times since he’d woken in the cave, he expected to find long hair. Instead, it barely brushed the back of his neck. He dropped his hand to his lap and tried to settle again. It was more difficult this time. Simply closing his eyes wouldn’t be enough. So, he let himself be pulled under as sleep claimed him.

“Derek.”

The voice came from nowhere and everywhere. It moved through him, around him. Derek looked about, finding everything blurry. Only the dull colors of the dream were there. He squinted, but it was of little help. He turned in a circle, searching for whoever it was.

“Hello? Who are you?”

“Derek.”

The voice was the softest of whispers. A sigh upon his skin.

He reached out, hoping to touch something and bring it into focus, but everything remained out of reach. The blurred colors shifted slightly as if taking him to a different place, but he couldn’t decipher anything more than before. They altered again. Then again, and again.

“Derek.”

“I’m here! Right fucking here!” he shouted in frustration.

He knew it was useless to lose his temper, but he was on edge. And the dream wasn’t helping.

“Derek.”

The voice was behind him, loud enough that he recognized it was a woman. He spun around, finding a figure standing before him as distorted as everything else. The only thing he saw with any clarity was the long waves of her dark hair. He moved to her, and she lifted her face to his, but there was nothing there. It was blank.

Derek startled awake. He realized he was gripping the roots and released them as he took in a shuddering breath. He shook his head to dispel the dream, but there was no forgetting the empty face. No nose, eyes, or lips. Derek pushed to his feet and rolled his shoulders. He heard the distinctive sounds of a village waking and realized dawn had arrived.

He waited another hour, watching the movement of people before making his way to the small town. Most of those who lived there farmed the land or had livestock. They welcomed him with smiles, and he soon learned why. While the population was small, the residents grew exceptional crops where nearby villages came to purchase and trade. The market was set up on the far side of the village.

Derek wandered through the market, noting the many different offerings. He paused beside a table set up with freshly baked bread. Alongside it was a red scarf, and upon it rested long slivers of obsidian.

“You won’t find any better.”

Derek looked up to find a skinny lad of about thirteen. His sandy blond hair was too long, his clothes a little large on his gangly frame, but he was clean and articulate, with a glint in his brown eyes that warned Derek he rarely had a customer leave without a purchase. “The bread or the black glass?”

“Both,” the boy stated proudly. “Me dad is the baker. I’ll take over one day. Until then, I find, cut, and polish the black glass.”

Derek found himself grinning. “I have no doubt.”

“You don’t look like you need the glass. I figure you could fight the beasts yourself.”

A sinking feeling filled Derek’s stomach. “Beasts?”

“The dragons, of course.”

“Do they come often?”

The lad shrugged. “Me dad was my age the last time a beast was seen. But you can’t be too careful.”

“Indeed. What does the obsidian do?”

The boy frowned in disbelief. “It penetrates their scales and kills them.”

“Are you sure?”

“Would we be selling them if it didn’t?”

Derek had offended him. “Apologies. I’ve never heard of such a weapon.”

“It’s all right,” the boy said with a shrug, his smile back. “But how is it possible that you’ve not heard of it?”

“I’ve traveled a great distance.”

“You don’t have dragons where you’re from?”

Derek shook his head. “None that I’ve seen.”

“Well, if you’re traveling around here, you’re tempting fate without a weapon. Even someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“You’re a warrior, aren’t you? You have that look. We don’t get many of you ’round here.”

Derek crafted a coin with magic and flipped it at the lad. “I’ll take your best loaf.”

The boy’s eyes lit up when he caught the coin and looked at it. “This will buy you everything we have.”

“I just need one.”

The lad barely paid him any attention as he handed over the bread. Derek walked away as he pondered the information he had obtained. He tore off the end of the loaf and bit into it as he continued wandering. Three other stalls were also selling obsidian. He almost told them the black glass wouldn’t kill a dragon, but he knew they wouldn’t listen. And if they did, they would want to know how he knew.

Derek didn’t remain in the village. He had learned all he could, and none of it was good. He didn’t return to the forest. Instead, he headed down the road that would continue his journey south. Once he was out of town, there was nothing but rolling hills covered by crops, separated by low stone fences. He set his hand on the rock and jumped over a fence to strike out across the field.

The grass brushed his knees as he walked through it. For a split second, a memory began to form, but it vanished almost immediately. He was frustrated at having thoughts begin only to be yanked away before he could discern anything about them. It was why he didn’t see the man in the middle of the field, leaning his hands atop his shovel at first.

Derek almost continued walking, but something about the way the stranger stared at him made Derek deviate toward him. The man didn’t alter his stance as Derek approached. He was on the shorter side, his white hair long and wild as if it hadn’t seen a comb in weeks. Despite that, he was clean-shaven. His skin was tanned from hours spent in the sun, wrinkles forming at the corners of his gray eyes and across his forehead. It was as if he furrowed his brow often. He wore a shirt the color of dried grass, and trousers in a deep brown like the rich soil he had been digging in. There were calluses on his fingers, and dirt clumped on his boots.

“Morning,” Derek called in greeting as he stopped a few feet away.

The man inclined his head. “I was hoping you would walk my way.”

Derek frowned in confusion. “Me?”

“Aye. I saw you land this morning. I’ve always wondered if some of you could change shape.”

Surprise shot through Derek, followed by suspicion. “And what do you think I am?”

The man chuckled and dropped one of his arms to his side as his other hand slid down the handle of the shovel. “You want me to say it, do you? Alrighty, then. A dragon.”

Derek studied the old man, noticing there was no fear in his visage or voice. It was the opposite of what Derek had encountered in the places he had visited since waking from his injuries.

“I’m Ashmadu, but everyone calls me Ash.”

“Derek. Why aren’t you afraid like all the others?”

Ash’s brow creased as he looked at Derek dubiously. “I may not have spoken to a dragon before, but I assumed your kind knew about us.”

“Enlighten me,” Derek pressed. He was really tiring of not knowing things, though this one may have nothing to do with the blow to his head.

“I’m a tomte.” When Derek didn’t respond, Ash sighed. “Only those with magic can see us. We are inexplicably drawn to crops.”

Derek ran a hand over his jaw, the rasp of whiskers scraping his palm. “You’re invisible to humans?”

“To every being who doesn’t contain magic, aye.”

“That means you move freely about the realm.”

Ash nodded once. “We do.”

“What do you know about a recent battle the dragons had?”

“If it happens within the border your people created, we know nothing. Not even we dare to cross that boundary.”

Impatience flared within Derek. “Surely, you must have heard that some dragons crowned themselves Kings and took over.”

Ash released a long breath. “The only strife we’re aware of is the one where humans are banishing or killing those of us with abilities. From what little I’ve heard, the dragons are fighting against that.”

“Tell me more. I need to know everything.”