Page 62 of Upon Buried Embers
He grunts.
But who sees them as a threat? I’ve never heard of a dragon attacking anything. Not a village, or the city. Maybe a wild one? But I can’t say I would know unless I overheard it.
We turn around a corner and enter an even larger area. The space is cavernous, spanning bigger than the settlement, alight with small fires.
There’s a large opening at the top, the walls glistening with veins of ore from the light. If I wasn’t surrounded by a man who could rip me apart and the beasts who could burn me alive, it would be a sight I’d like to stay and watch.
A dozen dragons lay along the edge of the walls. Rock circles surround them individually, like it’s their designated bed, and there are empty ones expanding further back.
They must belong to the ones that are out.
The dragons lift their heads as we move further inside, the ones that are awake anyway. They make some kind of chuffing rumble sound that I think are a greeting as Rohan approaches.
Rohan rumbles back, and I have to wonder how he can even make that sound. It’s like a purr and a growl, but the dragons seem to like it, laying their heads back down, relaxing.
“Dragonbonds are few and far between,” Rohan goes on. “There are only a handful of us left. Therefore, only a handful can ride Dragons.”
The five clan leaders, I know this at least.
“Dragons only trust the Dragorie because their Alpha has a Dragonbond, and others don’t like that. For example, these dragons here are with Drogonah, but they trust me, and the clan because I’m a Dragonbond to Drogonah.” That makes sense. “Dragonbonds are the only ones who can bridge the gap between man and dragon. They give us warmth and protection, while we make sure The Glade is protected and safe for their hatchlings.”
A pause.
“And we are failing.”
His hands fist at his sides at the words, and I’m not sure why he’s telling me any of this, but there must be a reason those words sounded like they crawled from his throat.
“The dragons are losing their trust in us. How can a mere five Dragonbonds keep them safe? They may be dangerous, but dragons just want to feast, mate and sleep. They only attack when necessary. Kill to defend.” He looks at Drogonah. “Or they’re just grumpy or a wildling. But in The Glade, eggs are going missing, their mothers are being killed. It’s showing that we cannot keep them safe while others try to claim what is ours.”
The dragons.
“The Glade is their haven for the time they’re there. Few can get close to the center where most eggs and hatchlings are. Yes, you can observe from a distance, but be close enough to even touch an egg?” Rohan shakes his head, tension lining his shoulders.
“How can they take eggs?” I ask, looking at the sleeping dragons, and amusement runs through me at seeing how they rest their head on the end of their tails. One is even on its back, legs in the air.
They aren’t as scary when they look like that.
“Asking a Dragonbond a question, how brave.” I still, realizing that I did speak out of turn. Again. “No, we do not go back on words, they’re important, you own them.” After a moment, I raise my eyes to his as we walk toward the dragons, my steps a lot more hesitant. “Ask again.”
I clear my throat. “How can they take their eggs?”
He nods his approval. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. How does one get close enough to an egg in The Glade without dying? And then how does one take even a single egg without being ripped to shreds by other mothers and guardians? Even dragons passing through would rip them apart if they saw someone with an egg that wasn’t their mother or father,” he growls. “A dragon wouldn’t just let them be taken.”
It just doesn’t seem possible, unless…
“A Dragonbond,” I mutter without thinking, and Rohan snaps his gaze to mine.
“Good, Elf.” Warmth fills my stomach at his praise. “That is one of the possible explanations I have at the moment, but I cannot be certain.”
We come to a stop in front of Drogonah. He peeks his eyes open, one white with blindness, the other purple that locks onto me and he growls.
“Hush now,” Rohan chastises. “It’s not like she can hurt you.”
The comment would sting, but he’s right.
“You’re probably wondering why I’m telling you all of this information,” he says, stroking a hand down Drogonah’s snout as little plumes of smoke puff out.
“I am,” I say softly.
