Spirit Dust

By CC Rose

book 12
Spirit Dust

Years have passed since Lucian was turned delgori and Rehema wants to make it right, to mend him and turn him whole but she needs the help of those she has avoided for the past five years. She has yet to return to the order and the code. Staying in the north, hiding out and away from all those who pass her. Rehema has fought the Haskell with her power of rush, she’s also aided those in need where possible, but it’s never enough. It’s taken twice as long for her to locate a way into the book chambers, and twice longer to accept that maybe all hope is lost. She will not give up her hope, to save him and his bond.
Finding solace in Creston’s arms, she will be forced to choose between a kindred and her desire once more. Damien tricks her into returning to the herds and the code of Ryderss. He is more troubled that she has been suffering for far too long. He and Creston will work together to aid her, but for Rehema it is a nightmare of deception and suffering. Until her daughters life is threatened and she will do anything to save her. She will risk it all. Including death.

the 12th book in the series
this is not a stand alone book. please start with book 1 Bonded Spirit and read in order for maximum appreciation

• Language: English
• Publisher: CC Rose
• Release date: May 3, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463935880

CC Rose

C C Rose lives in Queensland Australia.Inspired by all things magical, mystical and other worldly, creatures, fantasy and dragons most of all.Aim for the stars, and you’ll land on the moon.

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Spirit Dust

By CC Rose

Copyright 2014 © by C.C. Rose

Smashwords Edition

SMASHWORDS EDITION, LICENSE NOTES

This book is protected under the copyright laws of Australia. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase and additional copy for each recipient. Please do not post or archive on other sites without informing the author. A link to the distributors would be preferred. Please keep this book in its complete original form with the exception of quotes used in reviews. No alteration of content is allowed. Thankyou for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction. All characters and locations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any real persons, living or dead, locations or names, is purely coincidental.

CC Rose is an Australian author and Australian English and spelling have been used in this book.

Dangora is a fictional location; all towns and people are purely created by the author and have no connection to actually places or locations in this realm or any other. The land and the people, as well as the kin of dragon and Drae’Gon are all creations of the authors mind.

Cover design by C. C. Rose copyright © 2013

Map design by C. C. Rose copyright © 2013

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The Haskell war has taken much of the land but they will not destroy us, they will only face our might. By claw, tooth and scale. We will rise. Will not fall. Will win this war. And this time we will have the kin of seven. United we rise.

— Lyr’Rax

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Check out for in-depth look at the series and a colour version of the map

Where To Find CC Rose:

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The Rehema Series website

The Rehema Series:

Kindred Spirit

Bonded Spirit

Clouded Spirit

Spirit Heart

Spirit Flight

Spirit Light

Shadowed Spirit

Cursed Spirit

Twisted Spirit

Spirit Falls

Spirit Rush

Spirit Dust

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For the fated

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Rehema: Book 12

Spirit Dust

C C Rose

A time of lost love, in an ageless world

Where one could live forever if possible.

Peace. Hope. Happiness.

It is all one needs.

Chapter 1

Standing on the high tree branch, I pressed my back to the thick trunk, exhaling with anticipation. Seeping into La’Kera’s mind, seeing from the sky and into the thick of the brush—five Haskell lumbered towards my position. Grunting and grumbling in their thundering walk, twelve feet high, built like an ox with twisted ram horns, tatted leathers with a five foot doubled sided axe in their meaty grip. Their beady eyes set further a part, resembling a goats pupil—docile always came to mind, but what they lacked in brains, they made up in brawn. A blubber filled lump on their broad shoulders, and a constant grunt with their hoofed march across the trampled brush. Each Haskell carried an axe and a metal shield. They grunted to the sky, waving their burly arms towards La’Kera as she flew above them.

Bah. White Bat. Smite you down. Be gone with you. Bah.

I smirked as La’Kera took the insult as a compliment. Nothing they said was all that insulting, docile to look at, limited vocabulary, and all that brawn waisted on swinging axes. As they passed the point I marked out, I lifted my fingers to my mouth and whistled. Several echoing bird whistles returned through the brush. The Haskell turned to the trees, six feet from me—stupid nits. Their hoofed feet shifted the earth as they walked, making thunder if they were running. With another rain of whistles called further out—arrows from my left, sailed towards the beast, striking and distracting them as I dropped from my hiding spot with perfect cat landing, I faced the Haskell.

Bah!

It swung slow with its double bladed axe. I used the momentum of its swing, ducking the second Haskells’ blade as both rammed into the others stomach—ouch wasn’t covering it.

Gruahh! They roared with pain.

Flipping away from them, I pulled my twin blades to view, with fast strikes on the third Haskell, dodging the fourth’s lunging strike. The two embedded together were fighting on who was going to fight me—trying to pull the blade from their guts as I slashed along the arm of the third Haskell, the fourth and fifth had turned from me as number one shoved his buddy to the ground, stomping him in the head as he charged toward me with a grunt of anger. I hacked in its already exposed stomach, diving past its swinging attack and the thrashing hands. I rolled to the side, grabbing the axe from number two’s grip, balancing the weight—heavy was an understatement if I were not a dragon Ryder—but I was. It slowed my attack, slashing the Haskell and jolted both of us when I made contact, deep into its bleeding body. Slicing into its open gut, taking it down hard as the third grabbed me by the shoulder, squeezing me in its grubby hands.

Puny white Glove. Its foul breath wafered with rotten mud stench as its deep voice grunted.

Stupid ram. I winked. Pressing my hand to its arm—magic fed into it. The flow of mână, was rewarding—a rush of warmth. Exhilarating, energising and oh—a rush.

The Haskell froze; a look of shock etched its hard leather features, keeping it motionless as the creature slowly changed to a white porcelain, covering its arm, spreading across its chest and on around its brawny body in seconds. Porcelain hard. The magic made, froze the creature in a statue form. With the spell cast, the body started to break and fall apart. I dropped to the ground, landing with spring in my step and a smile from the rush of the magic. Feeling alive with the hunt, I side glanced the two running Haskell—now in arms with four Ryders.

Striking and diving in synchronised attacks, hitting with flash-hits, side strikes and mână blows. I watched as a Sapherian Ryder dived through the air, landing on the shoulders of the twelve foot beast, plunging a blade deep into the back of its neck. With the blade wedge deep into its blubber, he let a whoot—and the beast roared.

Brahkk! bellowing in pain. Puny Round-Ear. Brakk! It threw the Ryder twenty feet and turned to the Ryders slashing at its legs and belly. Tobias crashed into the earth, sliding several feet in front of me, to roll and stare up at me. I smirked, and he returned it with awe. He glanced to the grunting beast, the last two in this fight. Both being targeted by the three Ryders.

You know you could help. He was breathless.

I thought you said you wanted two to kill this time, Tobias.

I did—see. He flipped to his feet, wielding his steal sword; he lunged into the foray of fighting beast and Ryders. As he made a thrust into the back, the three Ryders overpowered the last beast and the ground shook with the death of the falling beast. Tobias made sure his blade went all the way through the chest, to twist and pull back repeat it in the back of its neck with a battle cry of victory.

I turned to the beast I had slain, plunging my blade into the heart and then the spine. I prefer incinerating them, I murmured.

That’s no fun, said Tobias, joining my side to kick the fourth Haskell. It wasn’t dead dead. He made sure its heart was taken out first and then its spine at the neck. You know how we use the hides and hooves these days. These beauties are worth twice much than any cow hide. He was seeing crowns, I was seeing dead Haskell. I wiped my blades off on the small cloth, sheathing them to my belt I glanced to the dead Haskell—taking in the fifth of broken porcelain.

Maybe. Least it’s dead—right?

Oh yeah. Dead. But no crowns for it in that state—less you want kids sticking them back together for decoration purposes. Tobias teased, giving the porcelain pieces a kick with his toe boot. It resembled a broken china plate; the detail was still there, each line—shape of its beastie form—if you wanted to put it back together.

I lingered on the kills around us, and seeped into La’Kera’s sight, seeing she was with several other dragons and nodding to what she was seeing. Four more are coming this way, I said to Tobias.

Sky’Ros says that there are four to the east too.

Ton’Nor is all over them, I’m sure of it.

Maybe, said Tobias, dipping his head towards me. So. We’ll get these ones, head in for a bit of … quiet time. I ignored his words of head in for a bit of quiet time—

Only dropped in for a hunt, Tobias. I was hesitant to stay, to say any more than I had to.

You could stay longer—you know your good for the kills, Rehema.

Good for them. True.

Clean ups on the way.

Wish they’d leave the carcasses to rot.

You know their good for the folk—not to mention the progress we’ve had with their horns and hooves. Leather saddles are the best quality now. And the glues that we can make. The stuff that’s been made with it.

I ain’t using it, I said with depth of truth. No way was I sitting on a Haskell hide and say it was comfy. I gave my braided hair a twist, keeping the length to my shoulders; I pulled one beaded braid around all of them and looped it off at the back. One always falls forward and I swept it the side, behind my ear. I glanced to the other Ryders, two of them were familiar, but nothing like Tobias was—I was weary of them regardless. With a wink to Tobias, I turned to the brush and took a leap to the tree trunk I was hiding at before. Taking to the high branch, safe and unseen from this position, I watched as other Ryders jumped to their hiding place. Spying four more Haskell heading towards us, we kept in contact with bird whistles—how far they were from us, since our Bonds above could only see so much through the brush. La’Kera was snaking her way through the clouds, lazily rolling her pearl scales around in the sky with Sky’Ros following her, humming songs of friendship and hope—she smirked and teased him with a slow race, not about to leave me without sight of the beast below us. She scanned the woodland, the trees that stretched hundreds of leagues with many open areas—barren wastelands of skeleton trees dotted the north, hundreds of leagues from the Terrill Mountains in the north. Looking to the south, lush grass land was visible—areas that hadn’t been destroyed by Haskell.

Let’s hope we can keep it that way, La’Kera.

This stretch of brush wasn’t too damaged, since it was growing back from the war, five years ago. Taking in the Base Line—hundred feet hight, sixty feet of base—towers—dragon towers were dotted in a perfect line from west to east—on a north incline. But it was south in some areas, as far as La’Kera was able to see. She soared toward the Haskell Base leagues in the brush, a days walk from my position. They grunt-bark and let loose arrows as thick as her tail, trying to snag her, to impale her, to capture her—she was too high and they didn’t care. They’d try regardless. She let loose her flame in quick burst, jetting them to the stationed catapults that the beast had concealed with tree trunks and spikes. Anything to stop the dragons destroying them—La’Kera managed to burn a fair amount before turning her attention on me and the four Haskell closing in. She rumbled to Sky’Ros, laughing at the beast attempt, though keeping a steady beat and her thoughts of hope hidden.

The war on Haskell was slow moving and hard.

Taking on the five before was nothing to their numbers. The four Haskell came closer with whistles on cue. I dropped from my branch, twirling my blades, I struck their stomachs, thighs and backs. Ducking under their slow swing, missing their axe by inches, I crouched low—hidden in its blind spot for a sixth of a second before I flash-struck with a high jump, running my blade the length of the beast back. The leather hide was protected by thick wiry fur, blunting my blades and making his wound—a scratch, if I was lucky.

It roared, swung with force and brute strength, as I flash struck its side, the cuts slowly leaking with indigo blood as grunting calls sounded its wounded fight. They acted a wounded cow, brawny, but dumb. The bellowing cries echoed around me as other Ryders took to the beast—hacking them to pieces wasn’t easy. They were double my height, and the slices I made were annoying wounds on their thick hides.

Brakkk!

The vibration of the earth shifted my footing as another Haskell lunged towards me. The wind whipped past my left shoulder as I ducked the attack. Brakkk!

The axe embedded into his buddies stomach—again—these beast fall for the same trick so many times it wasn’t funny. Their nostrils flared, grunting at the other to free him. The battle axe was wedge deep into the first Haskell’s belly. Blood oozed as the blade shifted in the wound. The gurgled grunts turned to hard breaths as the beast died. The Haskell was enraged, turning to me Smite you down. BAH! White Glove.

Dodging its attack, I rolled to the sides, the beast bellowed, snorting as it stomped the ground with confusion of my attacks. I was too fast for it. It knew it, but like a fly that annoyed you—it swatted at me, connecting with my ribs and sending me flying. I used air to still my fall, gaining the balance and the beast—charged.

With perfect timing, I leaped and dived, thrusting my blade deep into the exposed base of its neck. Severing the spine, the death wasn’t instant, but it wasn’t about to get back up. I turned my attention to the two Haskell as the Ryders battled them with fierce attacks. Summoning balls of spirit light toward the beast, allowing the Ryders an upper hand in the battle. The Ryders lunged, swords thrust deep as the battle cries followed. Brining it to the ground, the earth shook and the flutter of birds had La’Kera avoiding the panicked wren as they soared from the trees in a flurry. I smirked to Tobias, pulling the blade from the Haskell I had killed, I dove it hard into the back. Aiming for its heart and making sure it was dead. The Haskell had two hearts, taking out one and the spine always stopped them, but it was better to be on the safe side and make sure it was dead. On the rare occasion the second heart starts up and these beast, don’t stay dead even if their spine is broken at the neck. A cruel fate if left in that condition—as much as they were an enemy. I and many others, didn’t see the point in their suffering.

Nine Haskell. Clean ups going to be pleased with this number of hides. Tobias was gloating at the mass of death around us. Well—eight they can use at least. He noted again the broken porcelain Haskell, but didn’t say more. Tossing his long locks from his brown eyes, I smiled. Tobias had grown into a strong Ryder—no more a teen boy, no more a Ryder who had a crush on me—least not that I was aware. With Dawn’s death five and bit years ago, he’d moved on. But never with anyone permeant, I was just glad he didn’t ask me out anymore.. You gonna stay this time, Rehema? But one that constantly nagged me to stay.

I didn’t nod or shake my head. There was no need to answer the question and I pretended I didn’t hear it.

I’m off, Tobias, see you around. I headed through the brush, making my way to the open meadow—barren of life, but starting to return—if the damn Haskell stopped destroying every green patch south of the Terrill’s it would. Tobias kept pace, watching as Sky’Ros and La’Kera landed together. I gave her pearl scales a pat, taking in her thirty-eight feet from chest to tail, a good twelve feet climb to her back. La’Kera hummed towards me.

A good kill this day, Rehema. A good hunt.

I smirked to her compliments, enjoying the hunt as much as I did. Enjoying your catch up, I teased to her as Sky’Ros tried to take her attention with flushes of heat through his wings. She wasn’t seeing it in any context, other then—a compliment. She was smiling.

Tobias stepped closer, shy as he gazed to La’Kera—so close to her and in such a long time. Er… Rehema?

Tobias, I questioned, since he wasn’t usually this—clingy.

It’s … I don’t mind you dropping in like this—none of us do, we look forward to it actually. But … I wanted to let you know that High King Damien is looking for you.

He’s always looking for me, I scoffed, distracting myself with checking La’Kera’s straps.

OH. Well, he’s headed to Dunbar—last I checked.

Thanks, I eyed him over, seeing him sigh heavy. Anything else.

Um… no. Just that—

Take care, I cut him off as I climbed up to the crest of La’Kera’s saddle, locking my legs in place, I waved to the man before me as she took to the sky. With a deep breath of the flight, and the fight, I glanced around the lands from the west to the east—most of the north and on my left was the Terrill’s. High mountain mass that were to high to fly over and too twisted and thick with fog to go through—everything south of them was Dangora. The land was divided into seven regions, and the viper lands—known now as the Haskell’s Boarders—were north. Along the base line, leagues from the Terrill’s were towers every twenty leagues apart. Once—five years ago, there were enough Ryders to be stationed in each tower—with extra flying around. Now, we’d be lucky if one was in every ten—twenty towers. Dragon Towers. They were the Base Line—a perfect line stretching south of the mountains, across the north of Dangora. We’d lost towns and we’d lost much of the Roo’Bineyes land, the Andorra Forest, the tail and yet—we still managed to save some towns and claim them back as ours. For three years now, we’d pushed them north again—too damn slow. The tower line had been completed years ago, but not all the towers were used. Abandoned and barren as the destroyed forest littering my view. All Ryders were on post in the north—kill the Haskell, fight the war—our duty. Our code, our fight … their war.

Soaring above the lands and the towers, the dragons we passed roared in greeting. They didn’t leave the Dragon Towers. Those that were on the wing flew towards us, some singing songs to La’Kera, some passing on information about the war and the areas to steer clear of—we didn’t stay for long and she passed on little information herself. Heading southeast, the terrain was flat, dry and patched with the destruction that had refused to heal. She glided through the gorges and hills, to rise over the mountains, veering to the high peaks of the north. She swooped into the hidden towers by the Mystic Falls, landing on a rooftop as I unstrapped my legs; I reached for my pack and loosened off her saddle straps for the night. She hummed a resting song, gazing to the misty view of the Terrill’s and to the south—the lost forest, the hidden Haskell base homes and the knowledge—the war wasn’t over … yet.

Taking the stairs to the Ryder’s Quarters, I gave the broken furniture a half glance, dumping my pack on the bed, grumbling at the state of my boots as I kicked them off, I stripped off my clothes; and summoned water to wash them—keeping my mind busy on the task as the garments washed in the air, rung themselves out and with the spell of air, they were hanging dry in no time. I folded them and pulled another set from my pack, to change. My boots were ruined, but I had no others. Great. I breathed in annoyance. I was lucky in that fight, pleased I didn’t get tripped or it was a rainy day. Rain fights are the worst with beast—mud, wet blubber and their stench doubles.

I gave the sole a tug and it was opening wider than I liked.

Maybe you can sell your healing rings, offered La’Kera. You know they will sell for a good price.

I don’t know. They don’t seem the needed thing people want.

They are if they were not mistreated.

I know what you mean. Might have to make a potion this time. Doubt my healing rings are going to get me new boots.

What will it be—the potion of explosion or the potion of infection. She joked.

It wasn’t that I sucked at potions—okay, I did—but it was fact that the people of Dangora wanted destruction, deception and harmful potions to help them through this tough time. I hated making anything that could hurt others of Dangora, a part from the Haskell that was. I turned to the room, taking my focus off the potion making task and noting the forty foot of space, the lumpy bed, the fire place, the balcony that walked the complete tower circumference, the shower room and the humble feel this place had. Nothing to what it was years ago—and the spell that had been weaved into it was long gone. Now it was just a place to stay, not full of shine and sparkles. Not like I remembered. I pulled loose the single braid, releasing the cluster of braids as I shuffled them. Heading into the washroom, I spied the empty viper stone slots. With a check of the taps, I decided a shower was what I needed. Adding a heat spell, I was able to clean away the fight and the dirt I had tangled in. Washing and soaking, to dry myself. I dressed in my fresh set of clothes. Gazing to the rusted mirror, taking in the reflection with little recognition that it was me. It had been weeks since I looked at myself, sometimes months would pass. A scare ran the length of my cheek, slim as it was—it had been deep when I received it years ago, but too shocked to heal it as fast. Staring at the scare, I narrowed my eyes in annoyance at what it meant and why it was there. I didn’t stare too long, forgetting at times this was what I looked like now—it was the braids, dread locks—long and twisted braids that held small wooden beads at the ends, having them tap and roll together, it was comforting as I selected half of them, twisting one around a group. Half up and half down. I gave my five foot five form a glance over, and turned away from my twenty-seven year old appearance, knowing I was now ageless forever. I was a Ryde. More importantly, I was a Dy’Monian Ryder.

Taking a stroll around the tower top, gazing north and slowly to the east—towards Dunbar. Knowing Tobias was watching out for me, by giving me a heads up on Damien’s location was good news; though I dare to trust it completely. The man was everywhere these days and always where I least expected him. I sighed heavy, watching the thin mist thicken in the mountains so far from me, so close… this tower wasn’t part of the base line, but it had been built for it a time ago—before the Haskell claimed the south and mystic as theirs. At a hundred feet high, they couldn’t get to me, since there was no access but the dragon roost where La’Kera was resting lazily and watching all as I was. Looking down to the dark area below, the burned, ruined lands and knowing some leagues from here is where a town use to be—now it was a Haskell home base—stupid dump creatures ruined it all in months of discovering them. They couldn’t walk on jagged terrain or even up stairs that were maid by man. This tower was abandoned long ago, and while we were here, it wasn’t our home—no place was. Staying one night, two if the risk was low, but with Damien in Dunbar, I didn’t want to risk running into him or his bond.

La’Kera was reminiscing on Sky’Ros. The Sapherian bull had sung songs, tried making her follow him—though for courting purposes or not, I wasn’t sure. La’Kera already had herself a bull, one she was pining for. I never stopped her—not that anyone could stop a dragon—from seeing him, I just hated who and what that connection did. Running into Tobias wasn’t a surprise, least it had been a good few weeks since I last saw him, or anyone familiar. I tried not to stay too long in their presence and I refused to answer or linger on the ideas and hopes they echoed to me. He was posted along the Andon towers, flying between Plumpton and Cinder.

Since the war, the Ryders numbers were stretched thin and we were all on the move—least those I ran into were. But unlike me, they had a tower to call home. I was left alone, to do as I was—to hunt the Haskell like all the others. No, I was constantly cornered, sometimes captured and on the rare occasion—arrested. In the end, the war was still the same. The Haskell were still so large a number—ten times the herds, and than some. They roamed south of the Terrill’s, least along the old Andorra Forest—now a barren waste land of burned, lost and fallen trees. The Nyssa were no match for them and fled south further themselves. Though they had a hard time taking out grand trees, and gave up all together—leaving the thousand foot species were they were, giving them cover from the dragons above and a roost too. The mountains were their home, but the beast didn’t want to stay in the jagged rocks or the base line either. They wanted the land, but at the cost of killing and burning it—destroying those who lived here before them in the process, we couldn’t find even ground. Least, I knew there was no chance of finding piece with them. They were built for war, and only saw us as means to their victory. MaBela was their main base of operations, so to the Book Chambers in the east, Mystic, MaBela Falls in the west, and Cole too, along with anything south of them, mineral, rock, animal and building structure was theirs—they marched in groups, constant patrols and we—the Ryders, did the same.

I glared at the mountain mass, the day wasn’t over and I entered into the tower, turning my pack over and rummaging through it until I found the fruit at the bottom. Rolling it in my palms, I sat on the bed and bit into the two day old apple. Starved as I was, I savoured the flavour. Hunting wildlife wasn’t a good idea in these parts now, I wanted to see deer frolicking in the north again, it’d been an age since I’d even seen a rabbit or a wild horse. The Haskell killed everything. The apple was soft, not crunchy, but I dared to throw it away. My stomach protested for more as I walked to the balcony again.

Did you want to try in Yarrow Wood, asked La’Kera, knowing I was debating on heading to a town. I just didn’t know which was the safer options at this moment. West always had too much danger, so to did east—and not always from the Haskell. Delgori, vipers and vragons still roamed the lands, just not as high a population as the Haskell.

I’m not worried, I insisted, lingering on her thoughts and understanding her unspoken words.

Tarn is pain for us, and with Damien in Dunbar, Yarrow Wood would be the next place to head too. Besmera was too full of thugs, and again the towns in the west were… not to my liking when needing to stay on the run. Too many witnesses, too many familiar faces in the west.

If we head there now, we can return by nightfall.

Tarn? I questioned, knowing she was mapping the distance, the time that it would take us. It’d take us two nights to Yarrow Wood. I need boots now, I grumbled at the logic. No more Haskell hunts until I get new boots.

I agree my light, she purred to the knowledge.

I finished off my apple, tossing the core over the tower side, I gathered my clothes, tying off my pack and with a glance to the tower and a hope I’d return in a few days time, I headed off. Locked into La’Kera’s saddle, she headed south-east. I tried to ignore the broken straps that I had sewed together badly, hating that Tobias’s comments about a Haskell hide saddle were actually a taunt at the condition of