Dragon's Cave: The Dragon Girl, #1

By Carla Kerr

Kept in a cave by a terrifying dragon, the Dragon Girl lives alone, far from the world, with no memory of anything outside the cave. Her magic mirror is her only window onto the world... until a little accidental magic brings her a visitor, and she has company for the first time in her life.

 

On a visit to a neighbouring kingdom, Prince Leopold doesn't expect to fall into a magical passage and find himself visiting a dragon's cave. The dragon may be frightening, but the Dragon Girl is intriguing. 

 

Can the Dragon Girl escape the cave and find a place in the world? 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carla Kerr
• Release date: Feb 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393570769

Carla Kerr

Carla Kerr lives in Ireland with a husband and three insane cats, and enjoys cocktails, Pagan gatherings, superhero comics, shopping, and penpalling. Not necessarily all at the same time. Swords and sorcery is where she likes to live, always hoping to do more actual writing than staring at a blank screen and daydreaming. Watch this space! Welcome to another of Carla's magical worlds - do enjoy it.

Book preview

This book is dedicated to:

• Two teachers named Byrne, who said I would

• Trudy and Emma, who said I should

• You, the reader, taking the chance that I could

I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 1: The Dragon Girl

The constant low rumble of the dragon’s snoring filled the cavern – louder here, only a short distance from the vast central area where he slept. It was reassuring. As long as the dragon slept, it was safe, and she was free to go about her day.

The girl with no name worked in the garden, tending the vegetables that grew in the dark earth. It was the only part of the cavern network without a rocky floor. Like every other part, it was lit only by flaming torches dotted around the walls; no daylight penetrated here. The girl was used to it. Moving along the rows of plants, she diligently pulled up every tiny sign of weeds, making a little pile of them behind her. The sensation of magic in the ground here pulsed under her hands with the rhythm of the snoring. She closed her eyes, revelling in it. It was warm and tingling, and spread up her arms as if the fire of the torches had found its way into her blood.

It was an easy matter, once she’d reached the end of the vegetable rows and dropped the last green root onto the pile, to ignite a spark of that magic and make the pile blaze up for an instant and disappear. The girl smiled in satisfaction.

Finished, she said aloud.

There was nobody else to speak to, here. Sometimes she wondered if she was doing it right, if the words were formed correctly. All the same, she preferred to talk to herself than risk losing the ability altogether. Could that happen, she wondered?

Better not take the chance, she answered herself, turning away from the dying embers of magic.

Along the side of the garden, a stream ran. The snoring drowned out the sound of the water until she was right next to it. There, she washed the mud off her hands, and used the end of her skirt to dry them. After that, she left the garden, walking through an arch in the rock wall to the adjacent area. The snoring lessened as she went, although the vibrations in the ground continued.

There were several smaller caves, all connected, and mostly filled with the dragon’s hoard. She had no idea where any of it had come from, and most of it had been here since before she could remember – there had been occasional additions, but it was a drop in the ocean of gold, jewels, and other precious things that were packed into the dragon’s lair. Over the years, she had played with them, made use of them, lived with them – the dragon didn’t care, as long as none of it ever left the lair. Herself included, as she knew well. She had also made an attempt at organising some of it. This could turn into a lifetime’s work... not that that seemed to be a problem, although she did her best not to dwell on that. Some things were necessary if she wanted to keep her mind. And she did want to.

If indeed I am insane, she murmured, how am I to know?

The only possibility, she had decided, was to assume she was not, and to do her best to keep it that way. That meant not thinking, as much as possible, about the future; not spending too long wondering where she had come from and what the dragon had brought her here for, all those years ago; and while she might have ways to find out about the world outside this place, not allowing herself to imagine herself there. Life was as it was, and there was nothing she could do to change it.

It was a better life than some, she reminded herself, thinking of the things she’d seen. No sleeping out of doors in any kind of weather for her. She had food, she had clothing. There were humans out there who had none of that.

The next ‘room’, as she called it, was filled with books. It had taken days, she didn’t know how many, to extract all the books from the dragon’s hoard and bring them all in here, and to clear out all the other things. What use the dragon had for books, she had no idea. She suspected that he took things that were valuable, regardless of their actual function. Some of the books were covered in gold and studded with gems. Others had fantastic illustrations, or intricately carved bindings. They were stacked against the walls, some forming shelves for others, and some arranged to form a little niche under two torches. This was where she went now, curling up in the space that was perfectly formed just for her. She’d dragged a bolt of thick embroidered fabric in here and used it to create a soft carpet to sit on. One book was lying next to this, open on the page where she’d stopped reading, and leaning on the book-wall was her favourite thing, which she now pulled towards herself.

Slightly wider than the largest of the books, and of a similar height, it looked like a mirror at first, set in a heavy gilt frame. The metal curled around it in an intricately woven knot, without beginning or end, tending to silver in the places where her fingers had too often traced it around. At the moment, the glass centre only showed the reflection of the orange glow of the torches, and the very top of the girl’s head, where her braid was pinned. But by now, she knew how to use it. The only question – the question of every day – was what she wanted to see instead.

The topmost book to her right was an atlas, containing wonderful maps of countries. Sometimes she used this for inspiration, directing the mirror to show this or that one, first from above, as the dragon itself might see it, and then closer, viewing the buildings and the people. The magic in the mirror produced no sound, so she often tried to imagine what the people were saying, or what sounds were being made by the things she saw.

Today she didn’t take down the atlas. She placed her hand against the glass, waiting for the tiny bite of the spark as the magic awakened. The reflection of the torches faded, and when she took her hand away, the glass had turned grey. It now showed a city, squat buildings packed together. She directed the view closer, zooming through the narrow streets. There were two men on the corner, fighting. She lingered there, trying to guess which one would win. She was wrong, and as the victor staggered away, she moved on, away from these cramped quarters, and into wider avenues, larger houses, green areas.

There had been days when she just wanted to gaze at this green area, especially when its beds were overflowing with flowers. The colours were wonderful. Now the trees were laden with pink blossoms, and the green full of people walking slowly around it, or lying in the centre. They all seemed happy, and she couldn’t blame them. Just looking at it made her happy too. She made the image rotate gently so that she could see exactly what they were seeing.

In the distance, just visible through the trees, was the palace. She had occasionally ‘visited’ this too – the grounds surrounding the building were beautiful, with regular changes, so that there was always something new to explore. Curious, she moved the image there, passing up the hill and through the ornate gates in the blink of an eye.

There were people here too, fewer, and different – the way they dressed, the way they walked. She’d always been fascinated by this difference between people. Who decided who would live in the small buildings and walk on the narrow streets, and who would live in a grand palace with room to roam around these gardens? How could such a thing possibly be settled? And yet there were times when the people in the cramped places looked happy, and those in the palace discontent. Was she reading their expressions correctly?

Other humans were a mystery – she sighed to herself.

For a while she lost herself in the palace grounds. There was something different today, a new display of flowers arranged in a wide circle. She realised that it was a clock, the numbers picked out in tiny dark blue flowers against a paler face. The hands – also formed out of flowers, with curling vines around them – moved as she watched. This was so amazing that she watched it for some time, until the light of the sun started to die away, trying to figure out how it was moving. Magic?

She was no nearer to an answer on that when she realised that the vibration of the dragon’s snoring had given a final shudder and stopped. With a little gasp, she slapped her palm onto the surface of the mirror, clearing the image, and put it back against the stack of books where it had been. The day was over, it was time to go... night was here.

Back out of the book-room she hurried, through the garden again, this time taking a different arch, which led into the central area. This was the largest part of the network of caves, its ceiling soaring overhead. The rock floor was almost completely hidden under a carpet of gold coins and pearls, glittering in the light of the torches, and it was on this covering that the dragon was just rousing. Coins shifted and clattered as his massive head lifted. The flames shone red under the light, and its great golden eyes opened a slit. It stretched, undulating, arching its body. The girl was standing in clear sight by the time it looked around for her. She’d long ago learned not to do otherwise.

The head dipped slightly, satisfied, and a gout of smoke escaped its lips. It swung around, indicating the only other thing in this cavern – where she was already heading, long used to it. A cage, formed of heavy bars, and large enough just to lie or stand, its door open and waiting. As soon as she climbed inside, the door swung shut and the lock clicked. The dragon’s magic wafted like the heat of a fire against her as it turned on the spot, preparing for its night of hunting.

In a shower of coins and smoke, it leaped towards the domed ceiling. She watched it disappear along an almost-hidden tunnel up there. It would come out into the night sky, she knew, and would fly out there all night. Where it went, she didn’t know. Hunting... mostly for food, for itself and for her, but occasionally for trinkets and treasures. And in the morning she would deal with whatever came back.

She settled down, resigned, to wait and to sleep. 

Chapter 2: Leopold

Leo was awake before the sun had fully risen, and yet he wasn’t the first in the palace to rouse – at some stage in the early hours, a servant had managed to creep into the room and leave offerings on the table by the door. He could see a plate of rolls, a cup that was still steaming, and a letter propped up against the lamp. Shaking his head, he had to admire the silent servant for knowing his morning habits already, when he’d only been here a week. At the same time, he felt bad. The resident princes wouldn’t be up for a while yet, and no doubt he was making this person start his or her day much earlier than normal.

He got up, and tripped over the satin coverlet that he’d tossed off the bed as usual last night. How could anybody sleep under such a thing? Pretty, yes, but ridiculously slippery, and not at all practical. He picked it up, an awkward armful, and dropped it back onto the bed, straightening it out before he walked over to the table and made a start on the breakfast that had been left for him.

It was quiet here at this hour in the morning – so different from home. By now Leo would have been listening to the stamping of soldiers’ feet as they prepared for training outside, and the kitchen getting ready for the day would have been audible from his room. The palace here in Verben was bigger than his home in Pasania, and the kitchen was located so far away from the residential quarters that there was no chance of hearing anything.

Cup empty, he turned to the letter. Now that the light had increased a little, he could see the address, written in his mother’s hand, and he ripped it open, carrying it over to the window so that he could read in the light. Was she calling him home?

No – the queen had written in very general terms about her doings, and the activities of her retinue. At the end of the letter, she suggested that he extend his stay for several more weeks. It would be good for him, she said, to spend a little longer observing the way their neighbouring kingdom was run. Frowning, Leo leaned on the window sill and gazed out at the sunrise without really seeing it.

She’d said much the same thing to him on the day when she’d first told him that she wanted him to take this trip. He’d come into the room, his hair still plastered to his face with sweat from his training session with the sword, and interrupted Queen Catarina in intense conversation with one of her advisers. As soon as they heard the door open, they fell silent, and at a meaningful glance from the queen, the advisor left, dropping a swift bow of the head as he passed Leo.

What’s going on? he asked.

Instead of answering, the queen had risen from her seat and looked at him for a long moment.

Leopold, she said then, and her voice was light, almost joyful. I’ve arranged a little state visit for you. You’ll leave first thing in the morning.

Are you trying to get rid of me? He was joking, but for a moment he could have sworn that she looked slightly guilty.

The Verben royal family are our distant cousins, as you know, she said. We should make every effort to maintain good relations with them. If the daughter had lived, of course, we would have considered marriage for you – such a tragedy – but the older son is close to your age. I imagine you’ll find a lot in common. You’ll enjoy spending some time with them.

That last, Leo reflected, had sounded more like a command than an expression of hope. But he’d obeyed, of course, leaving her at once to pack what he needed.

She was hiding something from him. He just wished he knew what it was.

As for her idea of him having a lot in common with Thomas, the elder prince – he had to laugh at that. He liked Thomas, in spite of everything, but two more different people it would be difficult to find. Where Leo was active, an early riser, good with a sword and keen on athletic activities, Thomas preferred to stay in bed until mid-morning, and was never happier than when he had some spare time to read. He enjoyed intellectual board games such as chess, which Leo had never had much patience for, and was utterly useless in a fight. All the same, he was friendly, and Leo enjoyed his company, if not his preferred activities. The younger prince, Gerard, was still trapped in lessons for much of the day, but Leo found him very amiable as well, from what he’d seen so far. 

He still had some time before their day started, so he changed into his training gear, strapped on his sword, and headed outside, careful to walk quietly so as not to disturb anyone who was still sleeping. It was easy, with the thick, plush carpeting on every surface. Leo had an idea that an elephant could charge along these corridors and still not make much sound.

Working out, even alone, out in the fresh air, helped to clear some of his frustration at that evasive letter and at not knowing what his mother was up to. He felt better by the time he went back inside to shower and dress for the day.

What’s the plan for the day? he asked Thomas when the prince emerged after breakfast and morning meetings.

What would you say to a tour of the city? Thomas asked in his turn.

Leo grinned. I’d say bring it on. It’d be nice to get out of the palace for a while.

Tiring of us already, are you? Thomas raised an eyebrow.

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