Page 25 of Tortured

Then I wonder that I’m even seeing a dragon at all outside of the immortal dragon realm. Seren was a rarity. The only dragon I’ve ever known to come into Bryn.

The captain did warn me Morvith was different. That Morvith has dragons. And half-emrys. And an empress that is to be avoided at all costs.

The dragon noses around, sniffing the crates.

“What’s he doing?” I ask the captain. We crouch on the main deck, below the side of the ship, peeking just above the railing.

“Docking tax,” the captain mutters.

“Docking tax?”

“Aye.”

The dragon stops at a particular crate and inhales deeply. “Ah, simbra tea. This will do nicely.” He picks up the crate with his front claws and shifts back. “I thank you, gentlemen.” His deep voice astounds me.

Then his jaw drops open and fire flares over the remaining goods.

I jump to my feet, but the captain pulls me down. “No. Just wait. He marks the packages.” He nods back to the dragon, who’s stopped flaming.

All the crates are blackened, and as I squint closer, I see a distinctive pattern to the wave of the scorch.

“It’s so another dragon knows the tax has already been collected,” the captain says. “He’ll take the crate back to Caer to add to the empress’s stores.”

The dragon launches into the sky and disappears as quickly as he arrived.

Blinking back awe, I stand with the captain. “What about the cargo? Did he ruin it?”

“No. Targeted dragon fire. It’s magic that only burns what’s intended.”

Seren never explained this to me, but then again, we never had a chance to discuss dragon fire while I was running from assassins.

The captain and I return to the crates. The rest of the dock resumes busyness. I have a sense that this is perfectly normal. Dragons claiming and branding goods.

The captain nods as he assesses everything. Then he turns to me. “Are you sure you’re ready to go ashore? From the look on your face after seeing that dragon, I’m certain that I haven’t told you enough about Morvith.”

“I’ve only ever seen one dragon up close, and I was lucky enough to ride on her, but this . . . I have no words.” I shake my head as I run my hand over a scorch mark. It’s still warm.

“Ride on one, eh? Back in your homeland?”

“Aye.”

“One word of advice, son, before you go.” The captain claps me on the shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “You see another dragon, especially one with a rider, you stay well enough away. The dragon riders do nothing but serve the empress, and it never ends well for mortals who get in their way.”

“Will do.”

“And keep your swords where others can see them so thieves won’t know you’re an easy target.”

I laugh. “Do I look an easy target?”

“After these past weeks, you look a seafarer. And that’s pickings for landsmen.”

After thanking the captain, I return to the ship to grab my gear.

I snort as I strap on my swords and then my pack. “Easy pickings,” I mumble to myself. “Little do they know. I’d like to see a thief get the upper hand with me.” I tried not to show my superior strength while I was on the ship. But the time constantly adjusting the rigging and performing ship maintenance added to my muscles that were already well toned from the light.

The captain must have been ribbing me.

I nod at the crewman as I pass and wish them well. After three weeks at sea, it’s time to say goodbye to my newly acquired sea legs. I’m tired of skipping from port to port, and I never want to do another long stretch at sea. No more pubs full of drunken sailors and busty women.

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