Rainbow Dragonesque

By Ashley Abbiss

In the land of Noranda, there are dragons. There are ‎also dragon riders, the Dragonesque, as they call ‎themselves. Long ago, when the Sorcerers attacked, the ‎dragons and their riders saved Noranda from being ‎overrun.‎
But that was a long time ago, and these days, the ‎dragons and the Dragonesque tend mostly to keep to ‎their own territory, Dracos in the high mountains. Truth ‎be told, they’re not terribly welcome in the Lowlands, ‎where normal humans live. ‎
That’s because everyone knows that dragons are ‎venomous, and if you’re bitten by one, you’ll die. ‎Dragons may choose humans to ride them and live ‎closely with the dragon rider folk, but they’re still ‎essentially wild beasts and they can be unpredictable. ‎Best not to tempt fate.‎
When Aralaiah Sentin is bitten, everyone expects her ‎to die. But she doesn’t. She survives, but she has patches ‎of what look like dragon skin on her body. At first, she ‎thinks that they’re just a leftover of the bite, a different ‎kind of scar, perhaps.‎
But her markings aren’t the only change. As time ‎goes on, she finds that other things are changing, too. ‎Some of her senses are greatly enhanced, for one thing. ‎She can hear and speak telepathically to dragons, for ‎another. Terrified that she is losing her humanity, ‎Aralaiah tries to pretend that the changes aren’t ‎happening.‎
The dragons themselves are fascinated by Aralaiah ‎and they hang around the town where she lives in ‎droves, much to the consternation of the other residents. ‎The eight Queens of Dragondom send a Dragonesque, a ‎man named Draken, to Aralaiah, to explain to her what ‎has happened. Like some viruses, dragon DNA has an ‎affinity for human DNA. Aralaiah is no longer fully ‎human. She has become a Dragonesque, someone who is ‎part human, part dragon, just like the dragon rider folk. ‎She is now one of them. Her new, enhanced senses are ‎dragon senses, and she is informed that she now has ‎magic powers, too, or will have when she learns to use ‎them.‎
Draken and the dragons want her to move to Dracos, ‎where her new abilities can be assessed and she can learn ‎to make the most of them. Aralaiah refuses. Leave her ‎home and her friends and move to a place she knows ‎nothings about peopled by strange dragon people at the ‎behest of the very beasts that were responsible for ‎ruining her life in the first place? Not very likely.‎
But, as time goes on, she finds that she can’t go on ‎denying that she has changed. Her life, she realises ‎bitterly, now falls into two parts; before the dragon and ‎after the dragon. She is no longer the person she was, ‎and as her best friend points out, she needs to go to ‎Dracos and embrace what she now is. ‎
But, Dracos is a world of its own. More or less ‎shunned by the Lowlands, it is insular and inward-‎looking. The first Dragonesque were made, in much the ‎same way that Aralaiah was, but Dragonesque nowadays ‎are born. Also, every Dragonesque has markings of one ‎dragon colour, and one only. Aralaiah is unique in that ‎she shows all eight. In both her origin and her markings, ‎she’s a freak. Will they even accept her? Is there any ‎place at all for her now that her whole life, her whole ‎being, has changed?‎
Join Aralaiah Sentin, Rainbow Dragonesque, as she ‎struggles to find a place for herself in a world where she ‎no longer fits. Can she make a place for herself in the ‎strange world of the Dragonesque, or is she doomed to ‎live as an outcast forever?‎

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ashley Abbiss
• Release date: Apr 14, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370579105

Ashley Abbiss

Hello there. I’m Ashley Abbiss. ‎I live and write in beautiful New Zealand, where I live with one large dog, who looks nothing ‎like Friend from my Daughters of Destiny books. She is, however, almost as intelligent and definitely as ‎opinionated, and if she can’t quite speak in the way Friend does to Niari, that doesn’t really ‎hold her back much!‎I write fantasy, mostly of the epic variety. Let me say right up front that if you’re looking for a quick read, you’re in the wrong place. But if you like a substantial, ‎satisfying story that you can really get your teeth into, stick with me. I may have something ‎you’ll enjoy. There’s no graphic sex in my books. If that’s what you want, you’ll have to look ‎elsewhere. There is violence, and there is swearing, though mostly of the ‘s/he swore’ variety, ‎nothing overly graphic or offensive. I also write about strong, independent female characters, ‎so if your taste runs to something more macho, or something more frilly and helpless, this may ‎not be the place for you. ‎I’ve always loved wandering in different worlds, be they fantasy or science fiction, although ‎lately I tend to prefer fantasy. The only proviso is that they have to be believable worlds, ‎worlds that feel real, that have depth and scope – and they must, absolutely must be fun to ‎visit. I read for escape and entertainment, and I don’t really want to escape from this world ‎into one even grimmer. Trouble, tension, and danger I can deal with, what sort of story would ‎there be without them? Where would Pern be without Thread, Frodo without Sauron, Harry ‎Potter without Voldemort? But there has to be hope, and there has to be a light touch. Happy ‎ever after does have a lot going for it, even if initially it’s only a very small light at the end of ‎a long, dark tunnel. My personal favourites include Tolkien's Lord of the Rings trilogy, Anne ‎McCaffrey’s Pern series, and the fantasies of David Eddings, and lately, they’ve been joined ‎by J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and a few others. Of those, David Eddings was probably my ‎greatest inspiration.‎I began to wonder if I could create my own world, one just as believable and multi-layered as ‎theirs. Could I create a world with its own history, geography, social structure, deities, and all ‎the rest? One that hung together? That a reader could believe in? It became a challenge, one I ‎really wanted to see if I could meet. So I dusted off my writing skills, learned a few more, ‎cranked up the imagination, and got busy. I’d always been good at creative writing, but ‎though I’d made a few attempts to write after I left school, none of them came to anything. ‎That was until I started writing fantasy. Suddenly, I knew I’d come home. ‎I quickly discovered that I’m not the sort of writer who can plan a book (or a world!) before I ‎start. I just can’t do it. But I can create characters, and suddenly the characters took on a ‎reality of their own and took over the stories, often to the extent that they actually surprised ‎me. And the stories worked. Their world worked. Sometimes I had to go back and fix the ‎odd contradiction, but mostly it worked and was very natural and organic. Even though my ‎first attempts were pitiful, I knew I’d found where I belong. I persevered, I learned, I wrote. ‎I discovered that the characters are key for me. Once I get them right, they tell their own ‎story. I was away. There were dark days during which my stories became my refuge, my ‎characters my friends. And I kept writing. There were happy times when I didn’t need a ‎refuge, but my characters were still my friends, and they drew me inexorably back. I kept ‎writing. ‎And now, I hope my characters may become your friends too, my worlds ones where you also ‎like to walk; perhaps even your refuge from dark days. Come join me in a world where magic ‎is real and the gods are near, where beasts talk and men and women achieve things they never ‎dreamed they could. But most of all, come and have fun! ‎Happy reading.‎Ash.‎

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Hold still while I get this pinned, Laiah, Pryn said.

She deftly inserted a few more pins in the hem of Aralaiah’s wedding dress before stepping back to admire her work.

There! she said. That’s perfect. You’re going to be the most beautiful bride this town’s ever seen if I do say so myself.

Thanks to you, Laiah said as she stepped down off the stool and admired her reflection in the glass. Oh, it’s lovely, Pryn. I can’t wait until Vinat sees me in this.

He’s a lucky man, Pryn said. I just hope, when you can afford new clothes anytime you choose, that you won’t forget your best friend.

Well, of course I won’t! Besides, you’re the best dressmaker in Teenar. Where else would I go?

I can’t believe you’re actually marrying the son of the richest man in town!

I can’t believe Vinat even noticed me, let alone fell in love with me, Aralaiah said soberly. I love him so much, Pryn. He really is my soul mate.

Now, don’t get all maudlin on me! Pryn said. Change out of that now, so I can start on those alterations.

Aralaiah changed quickly back into her own clothes and Pryn escorted her to the door of the shop, chatting away as she went.

Come by tomorrow morning, Laiah, she said as she ushered her friend out of the shop. I’ll get the dress done tonight and you can pick it up then.

I will, Pryn, Aralaiah said as she began to walk away. And thanks again. She turned to wave to her friend.

Laiah, watch out! Pryn screamed.

But it was too late. Aralaiah felt a sharp pain in her arm, and when she snatched it back and looked down at it, she could see the blood welling from two punctures, one just above her wrist, the other halfway to her elbow. She turned to look up at the dragon she hadn’t even noticed in her excitement. Her eyes grew round as realisation dawned. Everyone knew that dragon fangs were venomous and being bitten was a death sentence. That’s why dragons were rarely seen in town, and their occasional presence was frowned upon, although not strictly forbidden.

This was the end. She was going to die.

That was her last thought before her eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed onto the pavement.

PART ONE

TEENAR

CHAPTER ONE

Aralaiah came back to the world slowly. Hearing returned first. She couldn’t move or open her eyes, but she could hear perfectly well.

I think she’s starting to wake up, a voice said. I’m sure I saw her eyelids flicker.

It took her a moment to place the voice. It was Pryn.

That’s nothing to celebrate, a truculent voice said. You shouldn’t have done this, Pryn. You ought to have let her go.

She struggled to place that voice.

I’m paying you for your services as a physician, Marisk, not for your opinions, Pryn said sharply. Just do your job.

Look at her, Pryn, Marisk said patiently. What sort of a life do you think she’s going to have like this? You should have let her go. It would have been kinder.

She’s my friend, Marisk! Pryn said. What was I supposed to do, just walk away?

Pryn’s voice went on, protesting Marisk’s judgement, but Aralaiah was no longer listening. She’d latched onto Marisk’s last statement and was trying to puzzle out its meaning. What had she meant when she’d said, ‘like this’, that it would have been kinder to let her go than live ‘like this’? What was wrong with her? Was she crippled?

With a vast effort of will, she managed to move her feet; one leg, then the other. They didn’t do more than twitch, but at least they moved. Not crippled, then. So, what did it mean? With another vast effort, she forced her eyes open. The light hurt them, stabbing like knives. She quickly squeezed them shut again.

Laiah? Pryn asked, bending over her. Are you awake?

She forced her eyes open again, blinking rapidly against the light.

Pryn? she whispered.

You are awake! Pryn said, and Aralaiah could hear the relief in her voice. At last!

Pryn reached up to wipe tears from her eyes.

Aralaiah wondered what that meant. She lay staring up at her friend’s face, trying to recall what had happened, why she was lying here with her best friend crying over her. She knew there was something there, she could feel it fluttering just at the edges of her awareness, but the more she tried to get hold of it, the more it eluded her.

What happened? she asked.

A dragon bit you, Pryn said softly. Don’t you remember?

Did she? She blinked rapidly as she tried to reach for the memory. But her thought returned to her with nothing but a blank.

Don’t you remember? Pryn was saying. You were leaving my shop, and you turned to wave to me.

Abruptly, all those elusive tatters of memory coalesced into a picture, and she saw it in her mind’s eye. She’d left the shop and turned to wave goodbye to Pryn, and she’d felt the pain in her arm. Yes, she remembered now. She’d looked down in shock and seen the blood welling from the punctures. They’d been on her left arm.

She pulled her arm out from under the blanket and held it up, expecting to see bandages or a gaping wound, but there was nothing but two round sores about the size of a coin, well scabbed over and looking as though they were healing fast. That in itself was strange, but around the wounds, in a patch that covered most of her inner forearm and flowed down towards her palm in a sort of rough teardrop shape, the skin was pale and had an odd pearly sheen.

Puzzled, she brought it closer to her eyes, turning it in the light, and was startled to see that it had the appearance of tiny, overlapping scales, like the skin of a fish, or - a dragon? She looked at Pryn, the question plain in her eyes.

It’s been like that since it started to heal, Pryn said. At first, it spread quite quickly, but it hasn’t grown any larger in the last week, so we’re hoping that’s as large as it’s going to get.

The last week? Aralaiah said. How long...? She was afraid to finish the sentence.

Three weeks, Pryn said. Three weeks since the dragon bit you. Twenty-two days, actually. You’ve been either unconscious or delirious all that time.

Three weeks? Aralaiah’s voice squeaked on the protest, sounding weak and rusty, unable to cope with the emotions it was being asked to express.

You’ve been very ill, Laiah, Pryn said gently. For the first week, we weren’t even sure you’d make it from one hour to the next. You nearly died, girl! She turned hastily away, surreptitiously wiping tears from her eyes. It was only Marisk’s skill that kept you alive.

Aralaiah looked at the town physician, who stood fiddling with something at the bench against the wall of the room and hadn’t once looked at Aralaiah since she woke.

So, why does Marisk think she oughtn’t to have done it, then? she asked.

Aralaiah clearly saw Marisk’s hand slip, sending a wooden bowl clattering to the floor.

Pryn winced. I was hoping you hadn’t heard that.

Aralaiah spread her hands and shrugged, still with most of her attention on Marisk.

Pryn hesitated, seemingly searching for the right words, but before she could speak, Marisk crossed the room and thrust a looking glass at Aralaiah. Pryn made a sound of protest and lunged for it, but before she could reach it, Aralaiah lifted it and looked in it.

The first thing she noticed was how thin and haggard her face was. She supposed that wasn’t surprising if she’d been eating virtually nothing for three whole weeks. She looked at least ten years older than her twenty-four years, which was a bit depressing. Then, she noticed the mark on the right side of her face.

It covered half her cheek and ran down her neck almost to her shoulder. It was dulled, as though there was a film over it, or as though it was beneath her skin, but it was a dark, brownish or purplish red, she couldn’t quite decide which. It looked rather like the dark red birthmarks seen on some people, but when she looked more closely it had the same slight sheen and scaly texture as the patch on her arm. She looked up and caught Pryn’s eye, but before Pryn could say anything, Marisk pushed forward.

You’re changing, girl, she said bluntly. That dragon’s bite did something to you.

She grabbed the mirror and put it away again, before turning with her back pressed to the bench, her hands grasping it to either side.

The question is, she said darkly, what are you changing into, and how far is it going to go? That’s why I said it would have been better to let you go.

What nonsense you do talk, Marisk! Pryn said scathingly. Laiah isn’t ‘turning into’ anything. She just has a few side effects from the dragon’s venom, that’s all. It’s no different to having a scar or something.

We’ll see, Marisk muttered.

Yes, we will, Pryn said with energy. And when we do, you’ll see that you were wrong and there’s nothing at all to worry about. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the older woman.

I hate to break up a perfectly good argument, Aralaiah said. But, since I am alive after all, do you think I could have something to eat? I’m starving.

Marisk snorted. I’m not surprised, given that the only thing you’ve eaten in the last three weeks is whatever bits of broth we could dribble down your throat! she said.

She turned to the bench, suddenly all business again.

Bread and hot milk, and maybe a few raisins if we have any, she said, turning to the cupboards.

There are some in a jar there, Pryn said. Use whatever you need.

She busied herself helping Aralaiah up into a sitting position and shoving pillows behind her to support her.

They were in Pryn’s home, Aralaiah noticed, looking around as she waited for her meal. They must have brought a cot in for her and set it up near the fireplace. Good old Pryn. If there was one person in all the world she always knew she could count on, it was Pryn.

They were like sisters; always had been, ever since Pryn’s family had moved in next door to Aralaiah’s when the two of them were two and three years old. They’d grown up together. Then, Pryn had gone into dressmaking while Aralaiah had taken over her grandmother’s candle-making business. Although, that would go up for sale as soon as she married.

Vinat, she said, suddenly reminded. How has he taken all this?

There was a sudden tense silence in the room.

What? she said.

The other two stared at her.

Tell me, Aralaiah demanded.

Marisk gave Pryn a look and turned away, busying herself with heating the milk for Aralaiah’s meal.

Pryn directed a scathing look at the old woman’s back before turning back to Aralaiah and taking a deep breath. She opened her mouth, closed it again, and rubbed at her temple. Aralaiah watched her with a sinking feeling in her gut. She knew Pryn probably better than she knew herself, and she knew she would never beat about the bush like this unless there was something badly wrong. Surely, nothing had happened to Vinat? That would just be too much.

Pryn, for heaven’s sake! Whatever it is, tell me! she said.

Vinat came in as soon as he heard about your accident, Pryn said in a flat voice. At first, he was all worried and very much the concerned lover. Then, once it became apparent that your face was going to be marked, he said he had no intention of marrying a disfigured woman. We haven’t seen him since.

Aralaiah just stared at her.

He married Nolassa yesterday, Pryn finished.

Aralaiah blinked once, but that was all the reaction she could manage right then.

Nolassa was the town beauty and considered herself the only choice for the son of the town’s richest man. She’d been throwing herself at Vinat ever since they both reached adulthood. Everyone had confidently expected them to marry until Vinat fell in love with Aralaiah. She must be laughing right now. Aralaiah continued to sit quite still, staring at her friend, while the fateful words battered at her consciousness, as though trying to force their way in and deliver their message. Right now, they didn’t seem to mean anything at all. The silence lengthened.

Well, say something, for goodness’ sake! Pryn cried.

Just as well I found out what a shallow piece of dung he is before I married him, Aralaiah said.

Pryn stared at her. That’s it? Your whole future just went down the toilet and that’s all you have to say?

No, it didn’t, Aralaiah said pedantically. It just changed a bit, that’s all. I still have the shop. I’ll be fine.

Laiah... Pryn said.

I can’t feel it at the moment, Aralaiah said. I imagine it’s shock. I’ll probably fall apart completely once that wears off.

Better get this down you before that happens, then, Marisk said practically, placing a bowl in Aralaiah’s hands. Crying always seems to take a lot of energy, for some reason.

Aralaiah laughed and dug in with gusto. Bread and milk wasn’t her favourite meal by any stretch of the imagination, but hunger, as they say, is the best sauce and she was famished. The contents of her bowl disappeared with creditable speed.

So, Vinat married Nolassa? she asked Pryn as she handed the empty bowl back to Marisk.

Yes.

Aralaiah nodded. Good.

Good? Pryn blinked.

The two of them deserve each other, Aralaiah said. And, if he’s married, that means I don’t have to worry about him changing his mind and coming sniffing around me again.

You wouldn’t take him back? Pryn asked. Assuming he was still single, and he was sorry, I mean?

Aralaiah looked at her as though she’d just grown another head.

You are kidding, aren’t you? she asked. Take back a man who’s just proved that he only loves me as long as I look good enough? And he didn’t exactly waste much time grieving over it, did he? What kind of a fool do you take me for? Do I really look that desperate?

Well, when you put it like that... Pryn said.

They both burst out laughing. Then, abruptly, the smile slid off Aralaiah’s face and it crumpled.

Oh, Pryn! she wailed.

Shock’s over is it? Pryn asked as she took her weeping friend in her arms.

Seems to be, Aralaiah sobbed.

Well, good. Come on, let it all out. That’s the girl.

Pryn rubbed Aralaiah’s back and murmured soft words of encouragement as Aralaiah howled out her grief and betrayal. The storm continued for quite some time before it finally died away in a couple of hiccoughing sobs. Pryn fetched a cloth so Aralaiah could wash her sticky face. Marisk made a pot of tea and put out some cakes while that was happening, and the three women sat together to eat and drink.

That seems to be my job done, Marisk said as she sipped her tea. There’s nought to do now but regain your strength, Aralaiah. You get yourself off to sleep as soon as you’ve finished that tea. You need your rest. Take it easy for the rest of the week and don’t push your body too hard until it’s ready, and you’ll do fine. So, Pryn, if I could have my money, I’ll be taking myself off when I’ve finished this cup.

Of course, Marisk, Pryn said, getting to her feet.

Thank you for your help, Marisk, Aralaiah said quietly. I owe you my life.

Marisk nodded at what was no more than her due. You’re a strong woman, Aralaiah, she said. I just hope you’re strong enough.

And, with that cryptic comment, she accepted her payment from Pryn, said good night, and took herself off.

What did she say to you? Pryn asked curiously as she came back from locking the door after the physician.

She said I was a strong woman, she just hoped I was strong enough, Aralaiah said.

Well, nothing like being encouraging, is there? Pryn said, raising her eyebrows. I wonder what she meant by that?

Aralaiah shrugged. Who knows? I mean, people are bound to talk, aren’t they? Both about what happened with the dragon and about me and Vinat, so I suppose I’ll have to cope with that. And it’ll take time for people to get used to my appearance, and all that. But mostly, I think she’s just determined to look on the dark side. She didn’t want you to save me, remember? She probably just doesn’t like being wrong.

Pryn laughed. That could well be it.

And, I’m paying you back what it cost you to hire her, too, Aralaiah said.

You are not!

Yes, I am, Pryn, Aralaiah said. I’m more grateful to you than I can say, but there’s no need for you to be out of pocket over it. She looked at her friend’s set and stubborn face. Please, Pryn. I need to do this.

But, why? Pryn said. You know I can afford to do it, don’t you?

Yes, I know. But, I need to do this for myself. I need to be independent. I don’t know why. I just do.

I guess I can understand that, after everything that’s happened. I’d guess that you need to feel in control of your own life.

Yes, that’s exactly it, Aralaiah said eagerly. I hadn’t thought of it until you said it, but you’re exactly right.

Well, in that case, how can I refuse? Pryn grinned. But actually, you don’t owe me a thing. In fact, I owe you some money.

Aralaiah frowned. How do you work that out?

Um. Well, come to think of it, I’m not entirely sure how you’ll feel about this, Pryn said awkwardly.

About what? Come on, Pryn. What have you done?

Well, you know how Nolassa and Vinat got married in one hell of a hurry?

Yes, you just told me about that.

Well, she came to me last week for a wedding dress, Pryn said, not quite meeting Aralaiah’s eyes. Said she needed it within the week. Well, obviously, I couldn’t make anything that quickly, so I – well, I figured you wouldn’t be wanting your wedding dress now, so I sold it to her at an outrageous price and altered it to fit her.

She stopped talking, looking at her friend as though readying herself for the explosion.

How outrageous a price? Aralaiah asked after a moment.

Er – three times what I charged you, Pryn said.

Aralaiah just stared for a moment. Then, she burst out laughing and clapped her hands.

Brilliant! she said. What an absolutely perfect revenge. I kind of feel as though I ought to be upset at the idea of her being married in my beautiful dress, and yet, there’s a kind of satisfaction in knowing she was wearing my hand me down. Especially after having paid through the nose for it. And you’re quite right, I don’t know what I would have done with that dress. I certainly could never have worn it. It would have been a total waste of money.

So anyway, Pryn said, sounding relieved. The money you’d paid me for the dress is a bit more than what I had to pay Marisk for your treatment, so I owe you somewhere around four silver coins. Maybe a bit less. I’ll have to work it out exactly.

Oh, I see. Well, in that case, I’ll be glad to have the money back, especially since I haven’t earned anything for the last three weeks. And that reminds me, I need to get home. I have to open the shop tomorrow.

You’ve only just woken up! Marisk told you to rest.

Marisk isn’t going to pay my bills! Aralaiah retorted.

There is that, I suppose, Pryn said.

There’s no suppose about it, Aralaiah said. I’m just glad I hadn’t sold the business yet. At least I can still make my own living.

Yes, you’re fortunate there, Pryn said. But honestly, Laiah, I don’t think you’ll be able to get back to work tomorrow.

Why not?

Because you’ve been lying in that bed for the last three weeks, and when you try to get up you’re going to be as weak as a kitten, that’s why! her friend retorted.

Oh, yes, Aralaiah said vaguely.

Her shoulders slumped, and the tears started to her eyes. She knew they were an indication of how weak she was, which did nothing to improve her mood or help her stem the flow.

Oh, come on, Laiah, Pryn said, handing her friend a handkerchief to mop up the tears, which were now snaking down her cheeks. It’s not that bad. Like you said, you still have the business, and it helps that you’re the only candle-maker in town. I’ve actually been selling the stock you had out of my store while you’ve been ill, just so people would be able to buy candles. I’ve run out now, though, so you’re going to be run off your feet when you do get back to work. Which is a very good argument for not being in too much of a rush, she said, shaking a finger at her friend. You don’t need to make yourself ill again. As for the bills, there’s the money from what I’ve sold for you, and I can loan you some if you’re short. You’ll have no trouble paying me back once you’re back at work. With the shortage of candles plus the rumour mill, you’ll be making money hand over fist.

I suppose so, Aralaiah said.

Of course so, Pryn said with energy. You know everyone’s going to want to gawk at the woman who survived a dragon attack. You won’t be able to stop them, so you might just as well profit from them.

There is that, Aralaiah sighed. But, in that case, I will need to go home. I need to get some stock made. I can do that sitting down, so it shouldn’t be too taxing.

Laiah...

I can’t sell what I don’t have, can I, Pryn? Aralaiah said patiently. And, according to you, the townsfolk are going to be beating down my door wanting candles. I have to go home.

Pryn looked at her helplessly.

All right, then, she said with sudden decision. Tomorrow morning. And I’m coming, too. I don’t have much on at the shop at the moment, so I can help. In fact, you can just sit there and tell me what to do while I do the work.

Like that’s going to happen! Aralaiah muttered.

Pryn laughed and realised it was the first time she’d really laughed since the dragon had bitten Aralaiah.

CHAPTER TWO

Aralaiah soon found that Marisk’s advice hadn’t been given lightly. It wasn’t just a matter of being weak after her illness; she found she couldn’t even sit up for the first day or so without her heart racing, her head spinning and being in dire danger of fainting. Pryn was so concerned that she called Marisk back.

It’s nothing to worry about, the old woman said. You’ve just got to get used to being upright again, that’s all, Aralaiah. You’ve been lying down for a long time, and your heart’s got lazy. It has to learn to pump the blood all the way up to your head again. Once that happens, you’ll be fine. She looked at the two young women. Have you heard the news?

What news is that? Pryn asked.

Dragons, Marisk said. People keep seeing dragons hanging around town. Most of them are just flying over, circling, but one or two have been sighted sitting on rooftops near the market square. After what happened to Aralaiah, it’s making people very nervous, and no one can figure out what they’re doing here. We get a dragon in Teenar maybe twice a year, and now, suddenly, we’re seeing five and six at a time. It’s all very strange. The council’s under some pressure to do something about it, but what they can do is beyond me. You two take care if you’re out and about. The old woman nodded sagely.

We’ll be careful, Pryn said. What do we owe you, Marisk?

Nothing at all, the healer said airily. Advice is free, and I was passing this way anyway. You just take it in easy stages, Aralaiah, and you’ll be fine. Don’t try to push yourself or you’re likely to faint, and that won’t help anything. Like I said, you just have to wait until your body gets used to being upright again.

That was the way it worked out. It was two more weeks before Aralaiah was well enough to open the shop again. To her chagrin, she still tired easily and life was a struggle for the next week or so, even then. She still went ahead with reopening the shop, in spite of that. She and Pryn had managed to make enough candles to stock the shelves, and she had a living to make, after all. Besides, she was the only candle-maker in town, and the townsfolk were becoming desperate for candles to light their homes.

The reopening of the shop had been meant to be a low-key affair, but it turned into the busiest day Aralaiah could remember; quite possibly the busiest the shop had ever had. A lot of people had run out of candles while she’d been ill and needed to restock; a lot more simply came to gawk at the dragon woman. Although humiliation aside, since they all bought at least a little something to give them a reason for being there, she did quite well out of it.

The day would have been exhausting for a fully healthy person; for the still-recovering Aralaiah, it began, more and more as the day wore on, to take on the aspect of a nightmare. That was probably why she didn’t notice that several dragons had congregated outside the shop. Or the man who came into the shop in the middle of the afternoon. He bought nothing, but simply stood in a corner and watched her as she served.

She was late closing that day, not managing to get rid of the crowds until the last candle had gone and there was no more excuse for any of the gawkers to stay. Four days’ production had been sold; every single candle. Aralaiah was exhausted, but she was going to have to either make some more batches of candles before the morning or leave the shop closed the next day.

The day had been completely insane, she thought wearily as she ushered the last customer out and closed the door behind her. But at least she should have made enough money to cover the bills that had been accruing ever since she was taken ill. Well, most of them, anyway. She was well on the way to getting her life back on track. She carefully bolted the front door before turning wearily towards the back of the shop, thinking longingly of dinner before she got back to work. She hadn’t had time for lunch.

Mistress Aralaiah, we have to talk, the man in the corner said, stepping forward into the light that spilt from the lantern Aralaiah had left burning on the counter.

She turned with a shriek of fright, her hand at her heart. She felt a little better when she realised that she knew him slightly. His name was Draken, and he was a fairly regular customer for some of her better quality candles. No one seemed to know quite what he did for a living, although he was rumoured to be some sort of merchant. He was often away for days, even weeks at a time, presumably buying or selling.

I didn’t realise anyone was still here, she said, turning back to the door. I’ll let you out.

No, not yet, Draken said in a rather pleasant baritone. First, we must talk.

Aralaiah sighed. Goodman Draken, I’m exhausted, I’m starving, and I still have a lot of work to do before I can get to bed. I don’t have time to talk.

And yet, it’s imperative that we do, Draken said. So, why don’t you let me buy you a meal at the tavern? We can talk as we eat.

Aralaiah hesitated.

I insist, Draken said, softening his words with a charming smile. We must talk, and we must talk now. I’m not going to go away until that’s happened. You’ll understand why when you hear what I have to say, but for now, if you have to listen you may as well get a free meal out of it.

Despite herself, Aralaiah laughed. Also despite herself, her curiosity was aroused. And besides, she was very hungry.

All right, she said with only a little reluctance. But I can’t stay long. I really do have a lot of work to do before bed. They’ve completely cleaned me out. If I don’t make some more candles tonight, I’ll have nothing to sell tomorrow.

I may be able to help you there, too, Draken said.

Aralaiah quirked an eyebrow. You’re an expert at candle-making, too?

In a manner of speaking, he said cryptically. Come along. Let’s go and get some dinner.

There’s only a bolt on that door, so we have to go out the back way, Aralaiah said, leading the way.

A few minutes later, they entered the warm, noisy common room of their local tavern. The place had quite a reputation for its food, and it was always full at dinnertime. That night was no exception, but Draken seemed to be known here because a quick word with the innkeeper was all it took for them to be led to a quiet table for two in the corner near the fire. A couple of minutes later they were sitting together over a tankard of the inn’s ale as they waited for their meal.

Aralaiah looked at Draken.

What was it that you had to say to me that absolutely couldn’t wait? she asked.

I think that ought to wait until our meals come and we can be sure of being private, Draken said.

What are you doing here? a strident voice said from behind them.

Aralaiah swung around to confront Nolassa. She could see Vinat sitting at a table on the other side of the room. Apparently, her erstwhile fiancé and his new wife had also been dining here.

I’m having dinner, Nolassa, as I assume you have been, Aralaiah said in her mildest voice.

It cost her a great deal in self-control, but she was damned if she was going to give the other woman the satisfaction of a scene. Nolassa loved to dramatise herself. Everyone had stopped what they were doing to stare, and the situation was already embarrassing enough. Aralaiah looked up and saw Vinat watching them. He looked horribly embarrassed, she noticed. Apparently, Nolassa was not acting with his approval. That made Aralaiah feel somewhat better.

You should be ashamed to be out in public where normal people have to look at you, Nolassa said. Freak!

Aralaiah couldn’t help it. She caught her breath sharply as the barb hit home. It was only with a great effort of will that she managed not to put a hand up to the mark on her face.

I think that’s about enough, don’t you? Draken said quietly, looking Nolassa straight in the eye with a directness that belied his mild tone.

I haven’t even got started yet! Nolassa said loudly.

I imagine that having stolen Aralaiah’s fiancé might leave you with a few guilty feelings, Draken said, still in that firm but quiet tone, and still holding Nolassa’s eyes. But, I don’t think embarrassing yourself and your husband in public by insulting my dinner guest is the best way to deal with them, do you?

Nolassa opened and closed her mouth a few times, but nothing came out.

I think your husband is waiting for you, Draken said.

Nolassa stared for a moment longer, favoured Aralaiah with a venomous glare, and flounced off.

Thank you for that, Aralaiah murmured.

That’s quite all right, Aralaiah, Draken grinned. He raised his eyes to look at the table where Vinat and Nolassa now appeared to be holding a quiet but vehement argument. If it’s any consolation, I think it was Vinat who lost out on that deal, and I think sooner or later, probably sooner, he’s going to realise it.

Aralaiah smiled. Thank you.

Ah, here comes our meal, Draken said.

He was facing the room, so he could see what was happening, and the comment headed off the incipient embarrassment neatly. A moment later, a plate full of stew was placed before each of them, along with a basket of dark, crusty bread and a dish of rich, yellow butter. Aralaiah just inhaled for a moment. She really was starving, and the stew smelt delicious, thick with meat and vegetables, the gravy rich with herbs and delicately seasoned.

So, what did you want to talk to me about? Aralaiah asked again as they both buttered bread and began to dig into their stew.

Draken leaned forward. Something very profound happened to you, Aralaiah, and you need to understand what that means for your future.

You mean the dragon bite, Aralaiah said. I don’t see that it means anything. I got bitten. I survived. I have a few mementoes of the occasion. She put a hand to her cheek. They’ve altered my appearance in the same way that a scar might, but people will get used to the way I look. I don’t see what’s so profound about it, apart from the fact that Nolassa got Vinat instead of me.

That’s because you don’t understand what’s happened, Aralaiah, Draken said. That mark on your face isn’t like a scar. A scar is on the surface, and that’s all it is. That mark is indicative of deeper changes. You’re no longer fully human. The very stuff that makes you who you are has changed, been augmented by the stuff of which dragons are made. You are now a Dragonesque.

A what?

It’s the term we use for someone who is now part dragon.

Aralaiah just stared at him.

Who are ‘we’? she asked, mainly because it was the only thing she could think of to say.

The Dragonesque, he said. The people you know as the dragon riders.

I think you kind of have to have a dragon to be a dragon rider, Aralaiah said. I only got bitten. I didn’t adopt the beast, so how can I be like them?

I’m not talking about what they do, Draken said. I’m talking about what they are. He leaned forward. How much do you know about the dragon riders?

She shrugged. I know what everyone knows, she said. They were established three hundred years ago to help us fight the war against the Sorcerers. Since then, they keep the country safe by keeping the power of the Sorcerers in check. They live up in the mountains and keep pretty much to themselves. They tend to be unwelcome in towns because of the danger of their dragons biting someone.

She couldn’t help turning her hand over and looking at the almost-healed wounds on her arm. Draken gave a soft exclamation and reached across to grab her wrist. She jerked her arm back sharply, freeing herself, and looked at him apprehensively.

Sorry, he said. I was startled. The mark on your arm isn’t the same as the one on your face.

Is it supposed to be? Aralaiah asked. There’s one on my leg, too, and that one’s different again.

Draken blinked. That’s – very odd. What colour was the dragon that bit you? I’ve been assuming it was a Red or perhaps a Violet.

Aralaiah shook her head. No, it was dark, a dark grey. That’s why I didn’t see it sitting there in the shadows.

He leaned back with his hands flat on the table in front of him. A Pewter dragon is the one that bit you? You’re quite sure of that?

Of course I’m sure. I got a good look at it before I passed out. It was dark grey with a metallic sheen.

And yet, she shows at least two dragon colours, possibly more, and none of them Pewter, Draken murmured. That’s strange. That’s very strange. I don’t understand what’s happened here.

Do you know what would be kind of nice? Aralaiah said with some asperity. If you’d stop talking about me as though I’m not here and tell me what the hell you’re blathering about. Why is it so significant that I was bitten by a pewter dragon and not a red one like you thought at first?

Because you don’t show the correct colour, Aralaiah, Draken said. Look, there are eight dragon colours; moon, which is silver-white with a pale blue, green or mauve iridescence; pearl, which is creamy white with a pale pink, peach or golden shimmer; blue-green, which are very variable and can range anywhere from blue to green but will always have an iridescence of the other colour.

Will have what? Aralaiah asked.

They’ll always have iridescence of the other colour to their body colour, Draken said. "So, a sky blue dragon, say, may have an emerald shimmer to it, where a yellow-green one may show a pale blue shimmer. Then there’s red, which can vary from almost orange to deep burgundy, and may show golden or violet iridescence, sometimes both; bronze, which is brown with a gold, pink or violet iridescence; violet, which can vary from magenta to a violet so dark as to be virtually black, with reddish or bluish iridescence; pewter, which can range from silver to charcoal and shows iridescence of its own colour, sometimes with a hint of gold, green or violet; and black, which shows rainbow iridescence, rather the way oil does.

Now, when men first began to associate with the dragons and ride them, they wanted to be closer to their beasts, and so it became the custom to inoculate themselves with dragon blood.

Eurgh! Aralaiah said. Wasn’t that – I don’t know – a bit risky?

It was very risky, Draken said. Not a few died before they figured out how to do it safely. But, those who survived found that the rewards were well worth the risk. They developed powers; chiefly the ability to speak telepathically with the dragons, enhanced senses, and the ability to do magic.

Magic? Aralaiah said. I didn’t come with you so you could tell me fairy tales.

Draken looked at her and extended his hand towards her across the table, palm up and obviously empty. He looked intently at the palm for a moment and he was suddenly holding the most exquisite orchid.

Magic, he said. Pick it up, handle it, it’s quite real.

Hesitantly, almost cringingly, Aralaiah reached across to touch the orchid. It was a real flower. She could feel the waxy texture of the petals sliding under her finger, feel the life in the thing.

Take it, Draken said. Keep it, if you’d like.

Thank you.

It really was a beautiful flower. She laid it down beside her plate. She would take it home and put it in water later.

To get back to what I was saying, Draken said. "The riders found that dragon’s blood conferred powers on them. Further, they found that the changes bred true. Their offspring were born with dragon markings and dragon abilities, and so were their children and their children’s children. It appears that the stuff that makes dragons somehow attaches itself to or alters the stuff that makes humans. So, the Dragonesque are now a race apart, something different to what they were originally; different from the rest of humanity. And now, you’re one of us.

But the simple fact is that I don’t know how to explain you, Aralaiah. You see, every Dragonesque is related to one type of dragon, and only one. It’s not uncommon for them to have two, three, even four or five patches of dragon colour on their skin, but it’s always – always - the same colour. They’re a Violet Dragonesque or a Pearl Dragonesque or whatever. The same colour, the same shade of that colour, and the same iridescence on all their markings. You won’t see bronze and blue-green, for instance, or red and black. You won’t even see blood red and vermilion, or lavender and violet on the one person; all their markings will be the same shade of the same colour. Until you. You don’t conform to just one colour. You seem to be, for lack of a better word, a rainbow Dragonesque.

Aralaiah couldn’t help but laugh.

But I’m not the product of a blood inoculation, she pointed out. Mine was caused by dragon venom. Maybe that’s the answer.

Actually, Aralaiah, dragons aren’t venomous, Draken said. What caused you to change, what causes most bitten people to die, is the saliva that gets into the wound. It acts in exactly the same way as the blood. It’s because most people can’t tolerate the changes that they die. When the first Dragonesque inoculated themselves, they found they had to do it very gradually, a drop or two at a time and working up from there. Those who died tended to be those who tried to hurry the process or those who were especially sensitive to the blood. Dragons are slobbery beasts. They always have lots of saliva, so when they bite quite a bit gets into the wound. Your body tries to change all at once, and that’s what does the damage.

So, how come I survived? Aralaiah asked.

Draken spread his hands. I don’t know. Just one of those things, I guess.

This is all very interesting, Draken, but what does it have to do with me? I’m not one of your dragon riders. Even if I am a Dragonesque now, what difference does it really make? I’ve already lost Vinat. There’s nothing left now but to pick up the pieces and get on with my life.

And that’s just what you’re not going to be able to do, Aralaiah, Draken said, leaning towards her earnestly.

I don’t see why not, she said. I’ve recovered, and people will soon get used to the way I look now. In a month or two, they’ll have forgotten that I ever looked different.

That’s possible, Draken said. But will they get used to the dragons hanging around town? You have noticed them about, I take it?

Of course I’ve noticed them. Everyone’s talking about them. But, that’s nothing to do with me, Aralaiah said.

It’s everything to do with you, Aralaiah, Draken said gravely. They’re here because of you. They started arriving as soon as you woke up and they were sure you were going to live.

That’s ridiculous! Aralaiah scoffed. How would they even know about me?

Aralaiah, it was one of them that bit you, Draken said gently. Of course they know about you. They’ve been watching you ever since. Now that they know you’ve survived, they’re hanging around in droves.

Why?

Because new Dragonesque are rare. The dragons are very excited about you. I suspect, when they find out about your colouration, they’ll be even more excited.

Well, I’m not excited about them! Aralaiah snapped. In case you hadn’t noticed, it was one of them that ruined my life. The least they could do is leave me alone to rebuild it as best I can.

They won’t do that. The dragons feel no guilt about what happened to you. As far as they’re concerned, you startled one of them, it bit, and that’s all there was to it. That’s just the way it is. You startle a dragon, it will bite. Instinctive reaction. Why should they feel guilty? As for the rest, they’re excited by you and they’re going to keep hanging around. They want you to go to Dracos.

What’s Dracos?

The dragon rider settlement, up in the hills.

Oh, no. My life is here, and I’m not giving it up to please the very creatures that are the cause of all the trouble.

That’s up to you, of course, but I think you’ll find that you can’t stay here.

Why not?

Because you can’t do it, Aralaiah. Take my word for it, the dragons are not going to go away. They’ll continue to hang around the town as long as you’re here. Now, maybe you can ignore them and continue on with your life, or maybe you can’t. But think about this. Your shop and your home are both near the market square, one of the busiest, if not the busiest, part of town. Dragons bite if they’re startled or threatened, and most of the people they bite will die. We estimate that something less than one in ten thousand people who are bitten survives. Now, how long do you think it’s going to be before someone else is bitten? And what do you think the chances are that they will survive? Can you live with that? What if it’s a child? Also, how long do you think it’s going to take for people to figure out that it’s you who is drawing the dragons to this town? They’ll lynch you if anything happens. You have no choice. You have to leave before anyone else gets hurt.

CHAPTER THREE

There are dragon riders, aren’t there? Aralaiah said. Why can’t they tell the dragons to leave?

Listen to me, Aralaiah. Dragon riders partner the dragons and work alongside them, but they don’t control them. The dragons belong to themselves, not to their riders. They’re intelligent, independent beasts with minds of their own and they bow to no one. They work with the riders because they choose to work with the riders, and they can change their minds at any time. The riders have no more control over them than I do over you. I can’t order them to leave town any more than I can order you. If I did, they’d just ignore me, and they’d be perfectly within their rights to do so.

Aralaiah stared at Draken for a long time without moving as she felt her world teetering on its axis. Abruptly, she moved before one more little push could bring the whole thing crashing down around her ears.

This is not my fault! she hissed at him. She pushed back her chair and got to her feet. Thank you for the dinner, but I have work to do before I can get to bed. I’d best be getting to it.

Without waiting for a reply, she turned and began to thread her way through the crowded room. They’d been so private in their corner that she hadn’t noticed how busy the place was. It took her a few minutes to make it out the door, and she had no sooner done so and turned for home than she found Draken at her elbow again.

You forgot your orchid, he said, holding it out.

Thank you, she said, hoping he’d take the hint and go away.

But, he began to walk along with her.

I’m perfectly capable of making my own way home, thank you, she said icily.

Oh, I’ve no doubt of that, Draken said cheerfully. But, I promised to see if I could help you make the candles, remember?

That isn’t necessary, she said.

Yes, it is. A promise is a promise. Besides, you need the help. You’re still recovering from your illness, and you’re exhausted.

I didn’t ask for your help! she hissed.

Well, aren’t you lucky? he said. You’re getting something you didn’t ask for.

She gave up at that point and stamped along, silently grinding her teeth in frustration.

They’re beautiful, aren’t they? Draken asked softly. Like jewels.

What? Aralaiah asked, momentarily distracted from her temper.

Draken pointed up to the house roofs lining the street.

The dragon eyes. They glow in the dark. Dragons see very well in the dark, you know.

I’m happy for them, Aralaiah snapped. Can’t you at least ask them to leave?

You could probably ask them yourself, Draken said.

What? Aralaiah was so startled she stopped walking and turned to face him.

You’re a Dragonesque, Aralaiah, and Dragonesque have powers, remember?

I don’t have any powers.

You mean, you haven’t discovered them yet. But I’m telling you, if you’re a Dragonesque, then you have powers. What they are remains to be seen. There are some things we can all do, like hearing and talking to the dragons and basic magic. But, beyond that, everyone is different. Some are stronger, some are weaker; some are better at some things, others at others. Most often, their abilities reflect the strengths of the dragon colour they relate to, but since you have several colours it won’t be that simple with you. It’ll be interesting to see what abilities you have, whether it’s a mixture or whether you reflect the Pewter characteristics since it was a Pewter that bit you.

And what powers do you have? Aralaiah asked bitingly.

I was wondering when you’d ask that, Draken said comfortably. I’m a Red. I’ll show you when we get to the shop if you like. That means I’m strongest at transformational magic and things involving fire or heat.

He stopped walking suddenly, folded his arms across his chest, and bowed.

What was that about? Aralaiah demanded.

Red Queen is here, Draken said, pointing to