Page 4 of Bound to the Orc Guardian

Gerna hurries out of her apothecary and presses a glass vial into my hand. A fine young woman and a gifted herbalist, she offers me an easy smile that flashes her tusks. “The deathsleep antidote. In case.”

“Thank you.”

She hasn’t been able to make much of the newly discovered antidote yet. It’s very precious, since it’s the only thing that can keep a fae from falling into a coma for a hundred years. Leaving my packs in place on my back, I tuck it into the pant’s pocket that holds the speaking stone I carry in case… In case of what, exactly? The moon goddess gifts me with a moon bound bride? Ridiculous. But it is one of the king’s orders to be prepared to speak with any new humans, and I am loyal.

King Aldronn waits at the edge of the green, Dravarr by his side. Both are warriors in their prime, exuding competence and strength. As Moon Blade Village’s warlord, Dravarr is newer to his position, but the king is in his late thirties like me and took on the mantle of power young. Ithangs around him now, an aura of command so strong it’s almost palpable. Even after being around him for many years, I still feel it. Wearing a linen tunic and leather boots and pants like everyone around him, he doesn’t drape himself in finery or jewels, but there’s no mistaking him for anything other than my king.

Wranth stalks past them to take point as we wind through the heart tree cottages of this side of the village and pick up the forest trail to the cleaning stone. Wind sighs through the heavy pines, swaying needle-covered branches and ruffling the thick clumps of ferns lining the path. Golden larks dart overhead in flutters of yellow wings punctuated by high, sweet notes of birdsong.

“Sheevora the Magnificent does you a great honor,”Aldronn says. “No one’s ever ridden on her before.”

“I’m aware,” I say.

“I hope you’re good with heights,” Dravarr mutters. “Dragons…” He grunts. “Let’s just say dragons aren’t unicorns.”

When I left my commission in the king’s guard, my unicorn mount of several years took her own leave, returning to her herd to take up a leadership position and begin her family. I could secure another unicorn mount, but dragon flight will carry me to the Dular Mountains in hours instead of days. Besides, once there, I will be clambering around inside caves, which isn’t anywhere a unicorn can go.

“You have to find this crystal the dragons speak of,” Aldronn says. “You must not fail.”

“It’s the only way to protect humans from deathsleep,” Dravarr adds with a scowl. His new bride is one of the human witches our enemies want, and his voice thrums with worry for her.

“I will not rest until I do.” I tip my head. “You have my word.”

The way ahead lightens, sunlight bathing the clearing around the tall granite pillar of the standing stone. Magic tingles in the air like an almost-heard song. Even if orcs don’t have some of the stronger magics, our goddess provided us with the standing stones. The cleaning stone is one of the most useful and why our ancestors founded Moon Blade Village close.

Ashley waits beside two dragons. The redhead breaks into a sunny grin as soon as she spots her husband.

Dravarr hurries over to her, and Ashley uses her witch powers to lift into the air a couple of feet to plant a loud kiss on his cheek.

Love pours from them, the pure love of a moon bound pair, and my heart pangs again. Bruna and I used to dream we were mated, our union blessed by the goddess, but she was taken from me while we were too young to know for certain.

Drake, the dragon youngling, lifts his wings and rubs his cheek on the leg of the massive dragon he stands in front of. He’s the same green as his mother and growing quickly, but Sheevora the Magnificent is the size of a cottage. She cleared an entire extra area of trees simply to make a space large enough to land, and she only fits because she keeps her large wings furled on her back.

“Come, orc.” Her deep alto booms through the clearing as she cocks her other foreleg for me. “We must go.”

I hurry toward her, only to be pulled up short when someone grabs my elbow. Wranth swings me around into a quick hug, slapping me on the shoulder. “Hurry back.”

I glance at the people waiting for me, counting on me, and nod. Then I clamber up onto Sheevora’s back, her scales warm and smooth under my palms as I settle into the divot right above her shoulders. My packs and travel guitar remain on my back—there’s no place to anchor them.

Muscles gather and bunch below me, and a punch of magic blasts outward as the dragon leaps into the air, her huge wings snapping open with a percussive whomp.

A yell tears from my throat as my legs clamp tight, but it’s in pure exhilaration as we angle up into the sky, the village flashing past below. Sheevora picks up speed, great magic pouring off her. It’s one thing to know dragons are the strongest of the fae—it’s quite another to feel it.

“Aldronn tells me you have the voice of an elf,” she says. It’s a high compliment, since our cousins the elves are known for their beauty in all things. “Sing for me, orc.”

So I do, words pouring from me. Old ballads of love and loss and beauty. If I’d been traveling with my guard troupe, they’d call for jaunty traveling songs to make the miles go faster, but this experience pulls a different sort of song from my soul.

As one of the king’s guard, I traveled constantly from one orc village to the next and even visited the grasslands of the unicorns a few times. But this… Nothing in my life prepared me for this.

Flying is song given physical form. Each beat of wings sings a new line, each tilt and bank adds a new instrument.It is a million individual notes forming into a chorus of perfection.

The air cools, slicing across my face and hands with the force of strong wind. I can’t tear my gaze from the landscape below. The darker green of pine forest gives way to lighter green as she crosses the Umbriall Plains in what feels like minutes. Time means little up here. All too soon, the purple smudge of distant mountains on the horizon grows into distinct peaks.

The final note of my ballad rings through the air as we circle down for a landing in a meadow clearing halfway up the side of a mountain. I’m now farther away from my people’s lands than any orc has ever been, well past the tip of the Dular Mountain range where Krivoth and Taylor ventured in their quest.

I slide down the dragon’s side, my feet cushioned by thick grass. Fading sunlight oranges the sky and turns the surrounding mountain peaks into dark triangles. I should say thank you for the ride, but words feel inadequate, so I bow deeply instead.

“You do indeed have a beautiful voice. Even more so, you feel things deeply, orc.” Sheevora cocks her head to turn a huge golden eye upon me, piercing straight to my soul. “You should not suppress that side of you.” Then she lifts her great wings. “I will send a messenger with exact instructions about retrieving the crystals. They will arrive within a few days. Remain here.”

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