Infinite Dreams

By Meyari McFarland

Collecting six varied stories, Infinite Dreams examines what it means to be a woman facing a hostile world.

In Dragon Rider's Song, a young woman returns to her mother's home only to find romance and understanding waiting for her. Monsters from outer space threaten in Darkness Rising. Jade Claws stretches the definition of what it means to be a person and shows that even monsters have hearts.

Cloud Cover returns to the world of Dragon Rider's Song for a thrilling dragon-back escape from sure death. Then in Ghosts of the Dead, the stories of those who died before are the true ghosts holding back women's lives.

The second Infinite collection highlights Meyari McFarland's varied worlds and takes us on an exploration of where dreams can lead.

• Language: English
• Publisher: MDR Publishing
• Release date: Feb 20, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310495694

Meyari McFarland

Meyari McFarland has been telling stories since she was a small child. Her stories range from SF and Fantasy adventures to Romances but they always feature strong characters who do what they think is right no matter what gets in their way. Her series range from Space Opera Romance in the Drath series to Epic Fantasy in the Mages of Tindiere world. Other series include Matriarchies of Muirin, the Clockwork Rift Steampunk mysteries, and the Tales of Unification urban fantasy stories, plus many more. You can find all of her work on MDR Publishing's website at www.MDR-Publishing.com.

Book preview

Infinite Dreams

By Meyari McFarland

Dragon song was high and thin, sung in registers that most humans struggled to reach. It wasn't pleasant on the ear like true song. Amynta was grateful that she'd eaten lightly, that she'd only drunk one glass of sharp wine. Her throat was clear, allowing her to sing her best.

Alone in a crowd, Amynta began, unseen except to disapprove. Blood binds sometimes when it shouldn't. Flight becomes freedom except the ground always calls.

She let her voice start out soft, thoughtful despite the effort it took to reach the high notes of 'flight' and 'freedom'. Around Amynta the other party guests stirred, discomfort on their faces as they edged further away from the painfully high notes.

That was normal. Humans didn't enjoy dragon song even when it was sung by a human throat. It was too high, too alien for comfort. The only one who seemed untroubled was Pallas. She stared up at Amynta with a bright, curious expression.

Other Books by Meyari McFarland:

Fitting In

Artifacts of Awareness

A Range of Debts Collection

The Nature of Beasts

Captured Debts Collection

Repair and Rebuild

Infinite Horizons Collection

Tales from the Dana Clanhouse

Storm Over Archaelaos

Published by Mary Raichle on Smashwords

Copyright ©2013 by Mary Raichle

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Requests for permission to make copies of any part of the work should be emailed to [e-mail]

This book is also available in TPB format from all major retailers.

Dedication:

This story is dedicated to some of my favorite writers: Wen Spencer, Anne McCaffrey, Andre Norton and Roger Zelazney. I wouldn't be who I am today if it weren't for their stories.

Table of Contents

Dragon Rider's Song

Darkness Rising

Jade Claws

Cloud Cover

Ghosts of the Dead

Stardust In Your Veins

Afterword

Dragon Rider's Song

1. Guest

Amynta strode into her mother, Timo's, home, shedding her helmet and shield with noisy clangs that sent the servants scurrying. Amynta kicked aside her greaves with a sigh of relief that she didn't bother to hide. Breastplate, pauldron and the heavy leather coat that protected her from dragon fire and freezing at altitude went next. She paused at the threshold of the kitchen to unlace her heavy boots so that she could kick them off.

Oh.

The low musical word startled Amynta enough that she lost her balance and toppled to the red, yellow and blue painted tiles. A sea foam green floor-length stola filled her eyes as she swept her gaze upwards to a delicate burnt umber hand adorned by slender gold rings. The lovely young woman had a pair of laughing golden-brown eyes framed by perfect chestnut curls.

Ah, hello? Amynta said as she scrambled back to her feet. Sorry, I didn't know that Mother, I mean Timo, I mean Senator Timo was hosting guests right now.

She couldn't help but be acutely aware of the differences between Amynta and her mother's beautiful guest. While the gorgeous young woman was immaculately dressed, perfectly coifed with stylish curls, Amynta now wore only her partially unlaced boots, breast bindings and underwear. After hours in her helmet, Amynta knew that her hair had to be a bird's nest of tangles. Sweat had long since soaked through all the layers of her clothes so Amynta had to be painfully pungent.

Embarrassment made Amynta's cheeks heat. She'd gotten used to stripping as soon as she and Blood Blossom, her dragon, got home to the barracks. It had been automatic to do the same here even though this wasn't the barracks and her mother hated it when Amynta stripped on the way in. For the first time Amynta understood her mother's objections, if only because it would have been nice to have made a better first impression.

Must you scatter your armor everywhere when you come in? Timo asked as she stalked over, delicate sandals sounding more like heavy boots with the impact of her heels. She held Amynta's coat in two fingers, extended to arm's reach, as if it might infect her. The servants don't appreciate cleaning up after you, Amynta. You are a woman grown. I would appreciate if you would attempt to learn how to behave like an adult.

And you don't appreciate me walking around the house stinking of sweat and dragon fire, Amynta snarled as she snatched the coat out of Timo's fingers. Just like Timo to try to make Amynta look bad in front of someone she might be interested in. By Blood Blossom's shell, I've heard your thoughts about 'responsible adulthood' a thousand times. Guest?

Amynta gestured towards the young woman who watched the two of them as though she was at the theatre. Fortunately, she didn't seem upset by Amynta's semi-nudity, Timo's hostility or this round of their never-ending arguments about Amynta's choice of career. If anything, she seemed fascinated.

The foyer carried their words through the house. It opened on the other hallways and rooms and was specifically designed for letting the servants know that someone had arrived. Timo couldn't have picked a better location to let Amynta know that she had not been forgiven. Not that it mattered to Amynta if the entire town knew that she was still at odds with her powerful mother. Everyone already knew that, from the town mayor on down to the servants who poked their heads into the foyer to frown at Amynta.

Yes, I have a guest, Timo drawled as she nodded graciously towards her guest. Her name is Pallas and she's come from the Academy to study the copies of Ferenius' histories in our private library. I presume that you'll never see her again because of it. There are other guests, as well, who are likely to take you for a prostitute if you walk around without clothing.

More likely they'd take me for a warrior or field slave, Amynta snorted. No prostitute has ever had my muscles, at least not the female ones.

Pallas tried to smother a shocked giggle behind her hand, eyes gone almost true gold with amusement when Amynta turned to look at her. She didn't seem offended at all by the hostility between Amynta and Timo, thank the Fire Gods. Timo glared at Amynta, eyes so narrow that Amynta would have braced for attack if it was anyone else.

You are a bit exposed, Pallas commented diplomatically enough that Timo eased back slightly, her shoulders coming down. Her voice was lovely, rich and throaty but with a sort of control that made Amynta wonder wildly for a second what she would sound like if she sang. Not that I mind but one of the other guests is a vestal virgin.

Amynta's cheeks burned. Ah. Sorry. I'll just go get cleaned up.

Finally, Timo sighed. "And if you could manage to remember your etiquette before dinner, it would be even more appreciated. We civilized folk have manners unlike your dragon riding friends, you know."

The insinuation that Amynta wasn't as serious about dragon riding as Timo was about her work in the senate made Amynta's teeth clench. It was always this way. No matter what Amynta did, it wasn't good enough. Even when she had tried to follow in her mother's footsteps all Timo had for her was scorn, disapproval and 'lessons' about how far she was from perfection.

Amynta turned and waved one hand at Pallas, signing 'my apologies for what will follow' the way Blood Blossom often did before tearing into her squealing and kicking dinner. It was pure habit as there was no way Pallas could understand the little gesture. Most dragon riders didn't catch onto those sorts of gestures until they'd been riding for several years.

Before Amynta could turn back to yell at her mother in earnest, Pallas dropped her hand from her mouth and smiled so brightly at Amynta that the anger drained straight out of her. It was a beautiful smile that stretched Pallas' lush lips and wrinkled her eyes up so that it illuminated Pallas from the inside out. Amynta's heart pounded against her breastbone suddenly. She licked her lips, entirely too aware of Timo's fierce glare at them both. A lump settled in her throat as her mouth went dry.

I'm pleased that I got to meet you, Dragon Rider Amynta, Pallas said. I hope that you do come to dinner. I'd love to talk to you further.

Ah, I'll… I'll be there, Amynta said. She swallowed against the nervous, excited lump in her throat. Her throat burned as she tried to push down the nervousness so that she wouldn't embarrass herself in front of Pallas, much less Timo. The nervousness slid all the way down to her stomach, settling there to make her stomach flitter like new hatchling wings fluttering.

2. Dinner

Wine mixed with honeyed dates on Amynta's tongue as she silently listened to the conversation flowing around her. She hadn't expected dinner to be a semi-formal affair. Timo had sent a proper floor-length stola to the baths for Amynta to wear. Amynta had ignored it in favor of a much more comfortable chiton that reached to her knees.

Part of it had been the desire to rebel against Timo's ever-misplaced expectations but a bigger part of Amynta had simply not wanted to wear a stola that made her look like a scarecrow dressed in one of Timo's cast off garments. As simple as Amynta's chiton was, just a piece of fabric twice as long as Amynta's arms stretched out, it draped around her muscular body far more attracttively than the too soft, too pale, too womanly stola.

Amynta didn't really care what Timo's other guests thought of her. Most of them probably had already been warned, privately or publicly depending on Timo's temper at the time, that Amynta was anything but a proper daughter of nobility. Really, it had