Dragon Fried Cheese: Dragonsbane Saga, #3

By Madison Keller

At last the answer to that age old question: are dragons lactose intolerant?

 

The last thing Sybil expects is to be accused of murder at a cheese festival. With her behind bars, it's up to the dragon Riastel to investigate. Too bad he has no idea how to talk to humans.

 

The arrival of Sybil's former lover hampers his meager efforts. As the two men clash over her affections, the festival is terrorized by a new threat. One that's been aging for far too long.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rainbow Dog Books
• Release date: Apr 20, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386482475

Madison Keller

MADISON KELLER lives and writes in the Pacific Northwest. When not writing he can be found bicycling around the woods of Oregon or at the dog park with his adorable Chihuahua mix. Madison has transitioned and now goes by Ian.

Book preview

Dragon Fried Cheese

Ian Madison Keller

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Rainbow Dog Books

Copyright © 2017 by Ian Madison Keller

All rights reserved. Published by Rainbow Dog Books. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

Edited by Element Editing Services

Map by Tabs Abernathy

Illustration by Beleoci

Cover by Ian Madison Keller

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The mission should have been simple. Sneak in and loot some of a dead dragon's treasure before the dragon slayer can haul it all away. But the dragon wasn't as dead as they'd heard. Unwillingly left behind as bait so the rest of the party can escape, this thief will need all her wits to survive.

Get a free copy of the prequel Black Dragon here:

https://bit.ly/3pZdBui

Contents

The World of Dragonsbane Saga

1. The Cheese Festival

2. A Bounty Hunter of Some Renown

3. Kicked Out

4. Jailed

5. The Investigation

6. Framed. Again.

7. Hopelessly Lost

8. Cheesy Attack

9. Wandering the Woods

10. Indignity of Retreat

11. Knowledge is Dangerous

12. Not the Cheese!

13. Strategic Retreat

14. Searching for Help

15. Casting Suspicion

Illustration: Riastel's Glory

16. Riastel's Glory

ALSO BY IAN MADISON KELLER

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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Chapter one

The Cheese Festival

A full moon winked down at Riastel and Sybil through the wispy black clouds. A light breeze rocked the paper lanterns, casting wobbling shadows across the rickety wooden stalls and cheese banners. Riastel turned his face from the wind and wrinkled his nose. The tang of cow manure was almost as strong as the pervading stink of the cheese from the booths around them.

A plump older lady at the booth next to him caught his eye and held up a cracker speckled with white and blue cheese.

Free sample, strangers? She smiled at him, revealing a mouthful of cracked and rotten teeth. Best cabrales cheese in the kingdom! She cackled, lifting the cracker up toward his nose. A funky odor, like Sybil’s socks after a hard day’s travel, wafted up from it.

No. Riastel took a step back, jostling Sybil walking on his other side. She peered around his shoulder, her tight black curls bouncing.

Oh, thank you. Sybil stepped around him and plucked the cracker from the vendor’s hand.

Don’t eat that, Riastel snapped, slapping Sybil’s hand. The cracker and its smelly cheese fell to the ground. It’s poison.

Poison? Sybil glared at Riastel, putting her hands on her hips. It’s cheese.

It smells like garbage, he growled at her. No woman of mine eats garbage.

First, we may be lovers but I don’t belong to you. Sybil stood on her tiptoes to get right in his face. And second, it’s supposed to smell like that.

What? Riastel grimaced.

That’s right. The plump vendor smiled at him and held up a new cracker, this one coated with a smooth orange paste. But I understand it isn’t for everyone. This is a cheddar with a milder smell and a smooth taste. She waggled the cracker at him.

Ew. The orange spread looked like thick moldy butter.

Don’t you like cheese? Sybil smiled as she plucked the new cracker out of the vendor’s hand and held it up to his mouth.

I’ve never had it before, Riastel said, pulling Sybil’s arm down by the elbow.

Never had cheese? Sybil gasped.

I, um, dragon, remember? Riastel pointed to himself with his free hand as he pulled Sybil away from the pushy vendor and further into the festival. Not normally on the menu. It had only been a few months since Riastel had been magically imprisoned in this weak human form, but it already felt like a lifetime. He rubbed the jeweled gold bracelet that held his true dragon essence through the embroidered fabric of his wizard’s robes. He missed biting the heads off sheep and the warm salty tang of blood.

True. Sybil smiled and waved the cracker at him again. So now’s your chance to see what all the fuss is about.

Fine. Riastel snatched the cracker from Sybil and lifted it to his nose, taking a big whiff. Unlike the funk of the other cheese, this one had a pleasant garlic odor. Not bad. He put the whole thing in his mouth and chewed. The cheese was smooth on his tongue and the tang, while strong, was very pleasant. Not like anything he’d ever had before. He swallowed, an involuntary smile pulling up the corners of his lips.

Hah. Sybil grinned and threw her arms around him, butting his collarbone with her head. I knew you’d like it.

Riastel growled under his breath and hugged Sybil back, flustered. He already longed for another bite, but his dragon pride reared within. To admit how much he liked something invented by humans gnawed at him. It was adequate.

Adequate? She giggled and winked up at him then stood on tiptoes to peck at his lips. I suppose you’ll just have to sample every cheese here until we find one that impresses even the mighty Riastel.

Don’t make fun, he growled, showing her his teeth in mock anger. She responded with a bared snarl of her own, and Riastel’s pants grew tight. Again Riastel lamented that his Sybil had been born as a tiny human instead of the dragoness she was clearly meant to be.

Sybil dragged him back to the stall and pointed to the old lady. You need to thank her for the sample.

Tangy and sweet, but left a coating in my mouth like a slug trail, he said to the plump vendor.

Sybil huffed and pulled him away. He hadn’t been kidding about that—a strange coating seemed to form on the back of his mouth, making it hard to talk. He coughed and put his hand up to his throat.

At least try to be nice, she whispered as he accepted a sample from another stall down the way.

The old man at this stall was bent and crooked, but Riastel accepted Sybil’s challenge to be nice. Riastel took the proffered piece of cheese and sniffed. The mouthwatering smell of aged goat wafted up from the sample. Before his change, goat had been his favorite. He licked his lips and popped it in his mouth. Sadly, the taste wasn’t nearly as pleasant as the smell had been. Still, he had promised Sybil.

Your cheese smells like a week-old goat carcass, he said, politely offering the old man his most pleasant smile. With lots of teeth. The old man’s mouth dropped open to reveal cratered gums.

Riastel! Sybil fumed at his side, her dark face turning a delightful shade of red as she stomped her foot, bunched her fists and glared at him. What has got into you?

I am helping these lesser creatures by providing them with impartial feedback. Riastel straightened his elegant robes, enjoying Sybil’s fury.

Lesser creatures? She gave another huff.

Riastel growled back at her.

Don’t forget. Sybil’s pointed at his nose and then traveled down the length of him.

As if I could. The jeweled bracelet tingled against his skin, his dragon essence struggling against the magic binding it to the cool metal, rising in response to Sybil’s foreplay, reminding him painfully of what he had lost, but also how much he had gained finding a mate in Sybil.

Then let’s tone down the vitriol.

I was being nice! he protested. He would have said more but he coughed again, his throat tight.

Sybil sighed and led him through the press of the crowd to a quiet spot in an alley. Riastel leaned against the brick wall, suddenly dizzy. He closed his eyes and tilted his head to the cool breeze.

Are you alright? Sybil peered up at him, concern in her eyes.

Fine. Just tired. He wasn’t lying. They’d ridden for two weeks to get to Harset from Beachcliff. He was saddle sore and already sick of this journey.

Sybil took his hand. Riastel, she began, but hesitated.

What? he answered without opening his eyes.

You need to learn how to interact with people without pissing them off. I won’t always be around to help.

Riastel shook his head, pushing away from the wall and opening his eyes to look down at her. What’s the point? If everything goes according to plan I won’t be a human for much longer.

Sybil bit her lip. What if things don’t go according to plan? What if we can’t make it to Valhill? What if we do make it there, but the wizards can’t undo Baldwin’s curse? What if—

Riastel cut her off with a snarl and downward swipe of his hand. Don’t say things like that! We will make it there and they will change me back. Tears blurred his vision and he hugged himself. His voice lowered. They will.

Sybil opened her mouth as if to reply, then closed it, let out a sigh and wrapped her arms around him, leaning against his chest. They stayed like that for a long moment. Then Riastel lifted his arms, pushing her away and swiped at the water leaking from his eyes, frustrated with himself. He hadn’t cried since his first days as a human. To Riastel’s relief she turned away and looked up at the moon, pretending not to notice his tears.

It’s late. We should probably head back to the inn, Sybil said. We need to get an early start tomorrow.

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Sybil slipped her hand through Riastel’s, walking arm in arm with him back through the town to the inn. She felt a bit bad for speaking so harshly to him, but he needed to come to terms with the fact that he might be stuck in this form for a while or maybe even permanently. She’d clearly pushed him enough for today.

While on the trail tomorrow she could explain to him that while the smell of a week-old goat carcass might be pleasing to a dragon, humans generally found it vile.

At least it was a nice night. The air held the bite of autumn chill, offset by the pleasant warmth of Riastel at her side. The townsfolk were friendly, the men dipping their heads in greeting and the women giving the couple small smiles as they moved past. A few of the women looked too long, giving Riastel appreciative glances and coy looks. At least until they noticed Sybil at his side, in her worn armor, scowling at them and possessively holding Riastel’s hand.

Sybil glanced up at Riastel as they walked. She had to admit he looked particularly handsome tonight. He’d taken the time to bathe at the inn before they headed to the festival and his red hair all but blazed in the lantern light. The light coating of stubble on his square jaw, combined with his formal wizard robes and muscles, gave him an air of rugged intellectualism.

Too soon they were at the inn, marked by a swinging sign decorated with a picture of a slice of cheese with a knife cutting into it. She didn’t know if the place had an official name—the sign didn’t have any words as most of the locals couldn’t read—but the locals affectionally called the tavern Cheese Hall.

They entered and before long were seated in the middle of an oversized wooden table, packed between two burly cheesemakers. The men still wore thick leather aprons around their middles; they smelled of rot and old socks. Sybil waved down a harried-looking young man of perhaps eighteen who was bustling past them carrying a tray filled with dirty plates and mugs.

Ale and dinner for two, Sybil yelled over the buzz of conversation.

The young man nodded to Sybil and continued on.

Sybil engaged Riastel in conversation while they waited. Riastel was in the midst of telling her all about the new spell he was learning when the boy returned.

Here you are. A platter loaded with steaming sausage drizzled in bubbling cheese dropped in front of Sybil, then another in front of Riastel. Mugs of pale brown ale followed them, liquid sloshing over the side.

How much? Sybil asked as she reached for her money pouch.

On the house, the boy said, giving Sybil a short bow. Mother recognized you. You’re the dragonsbane, the one that killed the green dragon for the town two years ago. She says if it weren’t for you Harset would no longer exist. He glanced at her from under a mop of hair that had fallen into his eyes, a blush touching his cheeks. Are you here to slay another dragon?

Sybil gave the boy a smile and laid a hand on Riastel’s arm. "No. This is Riastel. I’ve taken a break from dragon hunting to escort him to the Faymoor College