Dragon Fool

By Delaney Walnofer

Rib was a young dragon unable to do anything when his sister was taken by a group of Huskhn men. Now, full-grown, he's determined to liberate her. But suddenly a plague strikes his beloved homeland and he sets out overseas with companions to save both man and dragon. As conflicts arise, Rib may have to choose between the hundreds of people who hardly know him and his very own sister.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Delaney Walnofer
• Release date: Mar 25, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310154003

Delaney Walnofer

Delaney Walnofer was born in California in 1998. She has been a fiction writer since her elementary days and a developing artist since the age of two. Delaney began planning her first novel, Dragon Slave, at age eleven and finished writing it four years later. The sequel, Dragon Clutch, was finished the year after that, followed by the third and final book of the series, Dragon Fool. With all three novels published, Delaney reached her goal of completing the entire Dragon Slave Trilogy before her high school graduation. Delaney has had the privilege of speaking to many schools about writing books and hopes to continue doing so. She now attends Pacific University as a major in Film & Video.Delaney welcomes reviews and advice with the aim of improving herself as a writer.

Book preview

Book One . . . Dragon Slave

Book Two . . . Dragon Clutch

Book Three . . . Dragon Fool

Cover illustrated by Delaney Walnofer

Cover formatted by Tony Huang

Copyright © 2016 by Delaney Walnofer

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 1523208201

ISBN-13: 978-1523208203

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoy this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their preferred authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

For the Grove High School

Prologue

Can I have a beetle from your beard? young Rib asked Damon, scrambling onto the wizard’s lap and placing both foreclaws upon his chest. On the old man’s chin, an abundance of long, steely hairs grew, forming a mass so knotted and thick, no insect guest could escape it. Even now, Rib could see a bug with legs curled, collecting dust within the depths of its matted tomb.

Rib stuck his snout in to sniff it.

Two, three days old?

The beetle’s shell was still intact, but the scent of rotting insides was unmistakable. Rib wanted to disentangle the treat himself, but such a delicate operation as that required hands.

Taking pointers from the pups he’d met under Tyrone’s supper table, Rib lifted his head and gazed into the Wizard’s eyes. The wagon they were in shook, but Rib’s talons were fastened tight in the old man’s tunic and he held his position adamantly.

I’m saving that one, the Wizard mumbled, nudging the little dragon off his legs onto the wooden seat beside him. For a potion.

Aren’t there any others? Rib complained, sitting up as the bumpy ride jostled him. Damon always had at least two beetles on his person.

Ask me again when bog beetles are in season, the Wizard answered, snapping the reins to make the horse trot faster.

Rib gave an unhappy puff of air through his nostrils before leaping over the backrest to join his sister. The cart jolted and Rib flailed his wings to keep from tumbling out the far end.

His sister, however, inexperienced with flying as of yet, was left clinging to the edge, her eyes wide. Rib rushed to help her, but she fell and hit the puddled road with a splat.

Nonetheless, she picked herself up and went bounding after them. One second she had her haunches gathered, and the next she was back in the cart, flecking Rib with mud as she landed in the bed.

Rib laughed and batted her dirty, lavender-grey muzzle, inviting her to scuffle. They tussled about, nearly throwing each other off at times, until, tired, they dragged themselves over to Damon. Rib crouched on the crooked bench, smiling when his sister curled up with her head against his wing.

Atop the Wizard’s head, a female wyvern gave a short whistle. She was a small dragon-like creature with a long tail, two leathery wings and taloned hind legs, but no forelegs. She was, in essence, the reptilian version of a hunting falcon with the habit of parroting whatever she heard, keeping certain things in memory to repeat even years later.

Welcome to our castle, my bride, she said in the voice of Tyrone, followed by a woman’s merry laugh.

Rib looked at the marble-white wyvern, intrigued by how the light caught in her red eyes.

Why does Ivory imitate everyone all the time? he asked as the wyvern took flight ahead of the cart.

It’s what she does, Damon mumbled.

They rode on over grassy slopes for a while in silence. At some point, Rib nosed a bag tied to the Wizard’s waist, but was told to stop.

He sighed. This is taking so long. How far back was it when we crossed the Swaine? A feeling of apprehension came over Rib and he looked at his sister, remembering their mentor’s words, ‘Don’t wander into the kingdom alone.’

Tide wouldn’t be mad at us for coming along with Damon, would he? he whispered. No one stopped us from getting into the cart…

His little sister just gazed back at him. Speaking was a skill she still hadn’t mastered, but Tide said there was plenty of time for her to do that and choose a name for herself in the seasons to come. Rib cocked his head at her.

What name will she choose? he wondered. Maybe she’ll hear one she likes today!

Where are we going? Rib asked the Wizard.

Cliffport.

What’s that?

A place where humans from all over the world go.

That’s sounds exciting!

Why are we going there? Rib inquired further.

I need a special ingredient.

A place where people all over the world go to buy ingredients…

Rib stared up the road, excitement building as they neared the crest of a hill. A quiet sound met his ears, like a crash and a whoosh repeating, one after the other. In the distance, birds made a raucous.

Sister, look! Rib exclaimed the moment he could see over the hill. Far off, green land led into a deep stripe of blue that stretched all the way into the sky. The ocean!

At one spot where land met the sea, Rib saw a collection of houses. Small and crammed together, they reminded him of nothing like Tyrone’s hunting lodge in the forest. Beyond them, a number of objects, large and small, floated in the ocean with bare tree trunks sticking high up.

What are those things swimming in the water? Rib asked Damon.

Ships.

Ships.

Noises of people and activity grew ever louder as they drew near. Rib’s claws dug up splinters in the wood as excitement came over him. By the time they entered town, he was clambering in circles, trying to see in every direction at once. Everything was so lively! Humans by the dozens streamed past, some of them starting in surprise when they noticed him springing about in the cart.

Smells of meat and smoke and muck graced Rib’s snout. The air of festivities got under his scales, thrilling him like the moment he’d snag a bird, or leap from a boulder.

His sister flinched when he returned to her side, laughing breathlessly.

A dog came barking alongside the cart and both of them retreated a little, peering down at the loud animal. His sister looked especially frightened and Rib nuzzled her with the crown of his head, reassuring.

Someday, he promised, we’ll be big and nothing will scare us.

To his relief, the dog loped away at the sound of a man’s whistle, disappearing into the crowds.

Rib peered up at each face they passed.

Everyone here looks so different from each other, he observed. Their manes, their mouths, the color of their hides…

A group of dusky-skinned men caught his attention and he admired their black hair and muscular builds. Among them, a tall boy with shoulders so broad they made his hips look narrow in comparison looked right back at Rib, stepping out into the street to stare after him. Rib thought it an appropriate time to wave as humans did, if only he had the hands to do so.

Reaching the heart of the town, Damon reined in the horse to bring the cart to a halt where people lined the street, holding up items and calling out offers.

Rib watched attentively as the Wizard climbed down from the cart and pulled a rolled piece of parchment from his pocket to show a nearby merchant.

Do you sell these?

Rib saw something drawn on the unraveled scroll. Pictures often confused Rib, but this one he thought looked like a plant of sorts.

The merchant gave it one look and sneered. "I’m no Huskhn. Go ask them."

The next person Damon asked was little more help than the first. That comes at a high price, she said. Get crowned as King and then we’ll talk.

He’s leaving us! Rib told his sister as the Wizard traveled further down the street, talking to one merchant after another. Come on!

Standing up on the edge of the cart and spreading his bat-like wings, Rib stared after Damon and launched off. It took him a moment to get his wings beating hard enough, but he did so with determination.

Is she coming?

Looking back, Rib saw that his sister had made no move to join him, but was watching anxiously from the cart.

I’ll be right back! he called to her, then brought his eyes forward to see where he was going. People stopped and stared as he flew past low to the ground. Just when he came up to hover beside Damon, Ivory, the wyvern, came and alighted on the Wizard’s arm.

Do you know that person, good sir? she said in the voice of a young man. Him, with the dragons?

Who’s she mimicking now? Rib thought.

Damon seemed to be wondering the same thing, for he peered at Ivory and then at the people all around. His eyes landed on someone and Rib followed his gaze to see the tall boy from earlier heading their way.

What does he want? Rib became uneasy when he noticed three big men following behind the adolescent like personal guards. Landing on Damon’s back, the little dragon peered over the Wizard’s shoulder as the strangers stopped in front of them. The face of one of the guards, he noticed, drooped on one side, framed by black twisted locks of hair. Rib ran his wide eyes over both the other full grown men, unnerved by their brutish features.

What’s this, old man? the adolescent asked, taking the scroll from Damon’s hands to see the drawing. Looking to buy the Royal Well? Don’t you know they’re native to Husk?

Damon cleared his throat. Yes, I know.

The Wizard straighten up a bit, which reminded Rib of how his prey would try to make itself look bigger right before he pounced on it.

The boy smiled. They’re rare, too. I should know. He stuck out his hand to the Wizard. I’m Zheal, nephew of the Huskhn Chief and Heir to the Throne.

Damon shook Zheal’s hand silently. Rib took note of the boy’s white, splotched leather gloves.

What’s the ‘Huskhn Chief’? And why is his nephew so interested in Damon?

Well, said Zheal, still holding Damon’s scroll as he stared him hard in the face, I couldn’t help but notice you have the Eyes of Kings. Of course, you can see I do too.

Still, Damon said nothing. Rib was starting to get the feel that something was very wrong.

Zheal didn’t seem to mind the Wizard’s silence. He just turned the scroll over in his hands, appearing taken aback when he saw the other side of blank parchment. At least, to Rib it looked blank.

Why does he keep staring at it like that? he wondered. He can’t be reading, can he? Didn’t Tyrone say there have to be little marks on the page for that?

This… Zheal murmured, scanning the parchment with increasing interest. He looked up. This is how you get dragons to follow you?

Suddenly, the tall boy’s eyes were fixed on Rib, whose scales raised in alarm. Damon flexed his shoulders slightly, prickled by the dragon’s bristling hide.

What an interesting color that one is, said Zheal, a strange note in his voice. I wonder, how big will he grow? No doubt he’ll be strong someday.

Get Tyrone, the Wizard spoke low to Ivory, sending her off with a thrust of his arm.

Zheal lifted his head to watch the wyvern fly away. They obey you? With a grin, he glanced down at the scroll once more before rolling it up and sticking it under his vest. Then he spoke to his guards, who stepped towards Damon.

The Wizard backed away towards the cart.

At this, Zheal gave a loud command in a language Rib didn’t understand and a cry sounded behind them.

What?! Rib swiveled his head around just in time to see his sister be snatched up from the cart by two men.

Sister!

He barely glimpsed her terrified face before she was shoved into a sack.

Fly home! Damon wrenched Rib off his back and propelled him into the air, just as Zheal’s guards lunged for him.

Damon! Rib cried.

Jumping back from the men, Damon threw something on the ground. With a crack like thunder, the object blinded Rib in a succession of flashes and he pointed his snout for home, flying away quick as he could.

In a few moments, his sight had recovered and he looked back to see that Damon was gone and Zheal’s men were chasing after him instead.

The droopy faced one had just stolen a horse. He now galloped ahead of the group, gaining on Rib, who rose higher into the air to avoid collision with a house. It strained his wings to beat them so hard, but Rib pressed on faster still.

What do I do? he panicked. They took my sister! Damon’s gone!

I need help!

Speeding over pointed roofs and busy people in the streets, Rib soon escaped the town. Looking below, he saw no one except the horse thief still coming after him, racing across the green fields.

The horse was swift and brought its rider directly underneath Rib at times. All Rib had to do was look down and there was the man, fifteen feet below him, dark locks jouncing about, determined eyes fixed on him. Though half of the Huskhn’s face remained limp, the other half glowered up at the terrified dragon.

Using his flight to his advantage, Rib took the direct route, over big hills and bouldered areas. In this way, he was able to get ahead, but his chest and wings ached so much he had to stop and rest, heaving for breath until the man on the horse came into view again.

Almost there, Rib thought, his strength waning as he took to the air once more. He felt like he was going to be sick.

At last, Swaine River appeared on the horizon and Rib fixed his wings for what he hoped to be the last stretch.

He won’t follow me over the bridge! Rib determined, soaring over the large obstacle. Strangers never cross it.

But to his dismay, the rider pursued without pause, clattering over the stone structure in seconds. Rib stared wildly ahead of him at the fields and forests, searching for safety. He felt himself losing elevation as he headed for a tall tree in the distance.

Help, he cried. Tide! Tyrone!

He could barely raise his wings for another beat, let alone bring them down with enough force to hold him up. He was just now spending the last of his energy and it was time to choose what to put it towards- another beat higher or another beat farther.

But then, he noticed something.

The ground…

It looked strange. White and fluffy.

What?!

Right as the horse’s hooves came battering over, a giant cloud of tiny bodies rose up, spooking the steed. Rearing, the horse threw off its rider and fled.

Muffle moths!

Rib recognized the living mass of powdery insects that engulfed him and the man. He clamped his mouth shut and tried to hold his breath, but the motion of his wings forced air in and out of his flaring nostrils as the moths flocked around him.

Through the flux of insects, he saw the man try to get up, cough, and fall back to the ground.

Oh no…

Again and again Rib was forced to breathe in the thick, magical moth dust, growing all the while sluggish in his frenzy to get away. Eventually, the most he could do was fix his wings open to glide. But even in doing this, his muscles began to relax and his body went limp.

The insects cleared and Rib watched the ground come up to meet him. He barely managed to tuck in his wings and turn his head to the side before impact.

Grass, pebbles, and dirt all went flying as he crashed and tumbled to a stop. There he lay, utterly numb, his head having ended up tucked under his wing. All Rib could see was the soft turf before his eyes and sunlight bleeding through the leather of his wing.

Am I hurt?

He couldn’t tell; there was no feeling in his body whatsoever. His neck strained as he tried to look himself over, but he didn’t have the strength. He couldn’t move. Even his heart was too languorous to race as fast as it had been moments before the moth’s dust filled his lungs.

Help, he cried inside as his eyes slid involuntarily closed. He imagined his sister, suffocating in the sack she’d been put in.

The most he could do was inhale, exhale. Inhale, and exhale. Steady breaths that passed through his teeth and slightly parted lips.

He kept this up until finally, Little one…

A female spoke, sounding muffled as though Rib were submerged in water, but he recognized it was Tyrone’s wife, Theora.

You’re alright, you’re alright.

Am I? Rib had the distant sensation of being picked up…perhaps held close. He couldn’t be sure. His heavy eyelids refused to lift, even as the woman asked him to respond.

My sister! Rib wanted to tell her, but his tongue was dead in his mouth.

They took her…

Chapter 1

"She’s alive?" Rib swayed dangerously on his feet, breath coming in short.

Whoa, hey, Gavin, a young Eristad man, stood in front of him, hands up as though to steady the dragon. Yes, she’s alive. Everyone’s talking about her.

My sister…alive after all this time…my little sister…

Where is she? Rib croaked.

Gavin leaned against the wall of the Salten Gust Inn, arms folded. I can’t be sure, he answered. But recently sailors have been saying they’ve seen her with Zheal at ports all across the seas. Say she’s big, too. Some call her twice the size of a horse, but I’m guessing that’s just some bard’s inflated tale. Should be about the same size as you, shouldn’t she?

Rib couldn’t answer. He hadn’t heard a thing about his sister since she was stolen away from him five years ago. Now, a hundred questions of his own built up inside his throat, choking his words.

What has she been doing?

Will she come here?

Could I see her?

Hey, you with me? Gavin asked, waving to him.

Rib blinked, focusing his eyes on the twenty-two year old man, who laughed lightly at him. Tight curly hair, dark grey skin, winning smile. This was the friend that so often made Rib feel like life was good, even when people ran from him in fear or when hunting conditions were poor.

But with this sudden news of his sister, he felt as though his entire world had changed.

What- what have you heard about her? he barely managed to get out.

Gavin sighed. They say Zheal takes her around the world, searching for a wizard.

"He takes her everywhere with him?" Rib blurted, increasingly disturbed.

His friend shrugged. By the sound of it.

It’s like she’s Zheal’s slave.

Slowly, Rib’s shock withered away, replaced with something far heavier. It was the sick feeling he got whenever he remembered his sister’s face as she was shoved into a sack. Except now he knew she was still out there. Too big for a sack, no doubt, but still the captive of wicked men. This state of old pain blossomed afresh, like reopening a wound.

Have you heard any mention of chains? he asked, sensing his emotions ready to flood. Do they say she has to drag around a weighted yoke with shackles around her feet? Do they say her mouth is bound shut? Do they say- He stopped, realizing he didn’t even want to know the answers to his questions. It was just his way of imagining the worst out loud, so others could feel as he felt.

Rib, Gavin said, reaching out to rest his hand on Rib’s muzzle. "They haven’t said any of those things. There was only talk of a saddle. She carries Zheal on her back."

"She carries him?!" Rib burst out.

Gavin nodded, his expression grim. He calls her Tairg, the name of a legendary Huskhn warrior woman.

What? Rib cried. He can’t choose her name!

My sister…she didn’t even get to name herself before she was taken.

And now Zheal’s done it for her.

Rib fell silent, miserable as he studied the cold ground. His eyes fell on small rock dislodged from its hole in the dirt.

I left her in the cart, he grieved. Alone…so easy for those men to take.

Rib had spoken this fear before, the fear that his sister’s capture was his fault. People usually gave him the same type of response. ‘There was nothing you could do.’ ‘Don’t blame yourself.’

Gavin just stayed quiet.

There was another thing, he said after a while.

Rib lifted his weary head.

There have been Huskhns looking for the Wizard Damon.

Damon? Rib echoed, his voice hollow. What do they want from him?

I don’t know, but I have a feeling Zheal sent them.

That’s right, Rib realized, eyes opening wider. If Zheal’s looking for a wizard then…

Do you think he might bring my sister here? he asked with his heart pattering. In search of Damon?

The corner of Gavin’s mouth pulled to the side in an expression of uncertainty. Wouldn’t he have come here immediately if he were planning to at all? I almost wonder if he’s avoiding Wystil.

But why? Rib implored. He knows a wizard lives here. What’s keeping him away?

Gavin shrugged. Maybe he’s afraid. The young man laughed. There are a number of rumors that could be keeping him away.

Rib gave a groan. His sister was alive, but out of reach. He had no way of getting to her.

And no name to call her by, he lamented, his eyes returning to the pointless, displaced rock again. Not Tairg. Never Tairg.

At that moment, five dog-like dragon beasts came tearing around the corner, pressing in on them and leaping up in excitement. Gavin’s laugh as he tried to calm the monigons did little to lift Rib’s spirits.

A monigon voiced its raspy bark at Rib, but he refused its invitation to play, irritated when it nipped at his legs and tail.

Gavin, your lumpish hounds got into the zikkerwheat loft!

Jasper, a boy of about twelve, came around the same bend as the monigons to jab a finger at the young man’s chest. The top of his head, covered with black tousled locks, barely reached Gavin’s shoulder, but he stood erect and bold, as though unaware of his small size.

They scattered it all over the ground!

Aw. Gavin grinned at the boy, then crouched down to scratch an expectant monigon’s chin and spoke to it fondly. "Sounds like I have a mess to clean up because of you."

It could be ruined!

Gavin stood back up and headed towards the stables, waving his hand dismissively. A little dust never hurt.

Jasper shut his mouth in a scowl, watching Gavin disappear through the doorway with his monigons bounding after him. Rib couldn’t help but let his eyes wander over Jasper’s undeveloped right hand, all five of its fingers short and curled, when suddenly the child turned to look at him.

When are you going to take me flying? he demanded. "Let’s go now. Father doesn’t have to know."

Rib turned his head from the boy’s challenging stare. No, Jasper.

Come on, the boy insisted, grabbing a hold of Rib’s wing as though to drag him to the coast. I don’t need a saddle.

Shed it. Rib became annoyed. I don’t want to put up with this. Not with the news of my sister.

He tried to tug his wing out of Jasper’s grasp but the child held on so tight that Rib’s tugging nearly made him fall over.

As if somehow alerted by his son’s sudden mischief, Mortaug emerged from the inn, the drooping side of his face adding to his stern expression.

Good. Rib was relieved at the sight of his Huskhn friend. Let him deal with Jasper.

Mortaug’s rough, grey locks swept over his shoulders as he approached his son with a series of hand motions. Rib always had trouble understanding the man’s silent language, unable to distinguish each gesture of his hands, but he could tell Jasper was being scolded.

I can ride him just fine, Father! the boy protested, still holding onto Rib’s wing. I know I can!

Jasper’s confidence was admirable, made even more impressive when considering his deformed hand.

Enough of this. Rib pulled his wing from the boy’s other hand’s grasp and began to walk away. I don’t want to be here anymore.

Jasper turned to him immediately. Wait, Rib! We’ll fly over the port for everyone to see.

Mortaug turned the boy roughly by the shoulders and looked him in the eye. Rib took the opportunity to leave.

If only Mortaug hadn’t lost his voice to the moths, he thought grievously, moving far up a hill and towards the coastline. Then he’d still be a captain and he could take me to my sister.

But if the moths never swarmed us, then Damon would never have saved his life, Rib processed. So Mortaug wouldn’t have had the heart to help me at all.

The irony was harrowing.

. . .

The coast looked beautiful in the light of the morn, but Rib barely took notice of it, once again wading through murky thoughts and memories of his little sister stolen away from him at such a young age.

The ships that morning were docked at Cliffport, all except for one vessel that braved the choppy waters. Rib studied it from a distance as it passed.

Huskhn craft.

Gavin had taught him how to identify such boats by their long, shallow bodies and decorative prows. This one’s wing, or sail as humans called them, billowed with the wind, the picture on it seemingly expanding. Pain jabbed through Rib’s heart as he recognized the illustration was one of a dragon.

Did they put my sister on a ship like that when they took her? They must have…she was gone by the time Tyrone got to the port.

The Huskhn ship was just now sailing around a bend in the cliffs, escaping Rib’s somber gaze. With a heavy sigh, he rested his chin on the lumpy rock underneath him.

It didn’t take long for sadness to lull him to sleep, and he dreamt of creeping into a bright marble hall. He wasn’t even sure how he knew what it was, for he had never been in such a room. A great number of pillars, smooth all around, surrounded him and on the spotless floor he noticed a pattern of crevices.

Each crevice was a hard line cut into stone filled to the brim with water, not one overflowing. Gazing ahead, he saw that the chiseled cracks all led to something. The light in his dream was too glaring for him to see, and so he looked down at his foreclaws and followed a crevice towards it.

He became aware of a pleasant sound, like that of a small waterfall. Finally, he stopped before a basin at the far end of the hall with notches in its rim. Spilling out the notches, water dribbled down the side of the basin to feed into each and every crevice in the floor.

Streaming into the basin was a small flow of water that fell from the top of a stout wall. Over this wall was a stone arch through which Rib could see the outside. But he did not focus so much on this, for, crouching inside the opening was his sister. With one foreclaw, she batted at the falling water as playfully as a frisk, the same size as he remembered her.

It’s you, Rib breathed and she looked up at him. Where have you been? I’ve missed you.

The lavender grey dragon said nothing, though she blinked curiously at him.

Whether the outside began to brighten or the hall darken, Rib could not tell, but his sister was fading from his sight.

Wait! he cried. What can I call you by?

His sister’s mouth did not move, but like a melody from the dream world came the answer:

Memory.

Rib stirred as a wintry wind hit him head on, splitting over his wings, and he opened his eyes slowly. Though his vision was blurred from sleep, he could see a form gliding in the air. Rib tried to get his eyes to focus, hopes of realized dreams taking over him when he realized it was a dragon soaring over the ocean.

Sister?!

Rib leapt to his feet. Now he could see the sky was stunningly brilliant, its bounteous clouds bursting with light. The dragon flew about in the distance and sun beams illuminated the true color of its hide.

No, it’s…

Tide. Rib was disappointed to identify the dragon as his old mentor. The somewhat small, teal colored dragon searched below him like a falcon, until he pulled his wings in for a dive. Rib watched as Tide penetrated the water with a splash only to ascend again with a silvery