Dragon Lad: The Thirteenth Egg

By J. C. Stevens

Fly through page after page of adventures with Dorg as the young dragon discovers an astonishing truth about himself: he may not be a dragon after all.

Dorg hatches small due to a magic curse. A tough start in the biting, clawing, flame-spitting world he lives in.

At first, all he wants to do is end the curse, so he can be like the o

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dragon's Egg Books
• Release date: Aug 6, 2017
• ISBN: 9780996383967

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Written and Illustrated

by J. C. Stevens

Dragon Lad: The Thirteenth Egg

Copyright © 2015 J. C. Stevens,

Dragon’s Egg Books

Revised June 2017

Interior illustrations, text and story: J. C. Stevens

Cover design and layout: R. Powell – http://www.behance.net/rpowell

The Dragon’s Egg Books logo is a registered trademark

of Dragon’s Egg Books.

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are a product of the

author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to an actual

person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be used, reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted in any form or without written permission.

ISBN-13: 978-0-9963839-0-5

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017910022

www.dragonseggbooks.com

TO MY MOTHER,

who started me on this literary journey

through her love of books, travel

… and dragons

CONTENTS

Chapter One: No Paradise for Dragons

Chapter Two: The Witch

Chapter Three: The Curse

Chapter Four: Different Spirits

Chapter Five: Humiliation

Chapter Six: Attack

Chapter Seven: The Star Dragon

Chapter Eight: Wind and Sea

Chapter Nine: A Tiny Ray of Light

Chapter Ten: Joining the Swarm

Chapter Eleven: Big Fish

Chapter Twelve: Stuck

Chapter Thirteen: The Owl Ambassador

Chapter Fourteen: Caught

Chapter Fifteen: Beyond the Pail

Chapter Sixteen: Human Kindness

Chapter Seventeen: Facing the Witch

Chapter Eighteen: Hope

Chapter Nineteen: The Missing Talisman

Chapter Twenty: Passage to Albion

Chapter Twenty-One: Wizard’s Cave

Chapter Twenty-Two: Rediscovered Friendship

Chapter Twenty-Three: Painful Change

Chapter Twenty-Four: More Transformation

Chapter Twenty-Five: Hell’s Bane

Chapter Twenty-Six: Forced To Fight

Chapter Twenty-Seven: A New Name

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Solitary Existence

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Winter Gifts

Chapter Thirty: Friend in Need

Chapter Thirty-One: Dragon Scales

CHAPTER ONE

No Paradise for Dragons

Once upon a time, when dragons roamed and ruled the skies above the earth, there lived a young female dragon named Gernith.

From a human’s point of view, Gernith was a monster. She had a snakelike snout, slitted reptilian eyes, teeth as sharp as daggers, and claws that could strip flesh from prey with a single slash. She pounced on her quarry with nightmarish quickness, and with hot breath reeking of sulfur and smoke.

But in the eyes of her fellow dragons, she was strong and beautiful. Muscular and tall, she towered well over eight feet when standing on her hind legs, and purple scales stretched over her wings like the royal cape of a queen.

Sadly, Gernith reached maturity when the reign of dragons was nearly over. In days gone by, humans had willingly shared their sheep, cattle, and goats with the winged reptiles. But the dragon and human populations had increased, and there was no longer enough food for both.

At the same time, humans had become more devious in finding ways to kill dragons. Dragons fell by the hundreds to their arrows, spears, swords, and stone-throwers. A dragon’s life expectancy dropped dangerously from hundreds to tens of years, scarcely long enough to reproduce even once. Soon hardly any dragons dwelled in the land of Gernith’s ancestors, and she could not find a mate.

And so, on a crisp, clear day, as the pale buds of spring yielded to the emerald leaves of summer, Gernith bid farewell to the dragons remaining in her colony and flew west over woodlands, mountains, forests, fields, rivers and sea.

At first the wind was gentle, and the ocean calm, with nothing on the horizon but blue sky and tiny puffs of clouds. However, as the day wore on, the wind sharpened and the azure vault vanished into a haze so dense she could barely see the waves beneath her wings. And the clouds massed into a grey blanket that seemed to go on forever.

Then the fog lifted to reveal a large dark shape silhouetted against the brown contours of an island.

It was an island not found on any map today. The sea claimed it ages ago. But in Gernith’s day, it existed, and her wings beat fast when she realized the dark shape in the distance was flying.

Cold and half-blind from the salty mist, she raced toward it, and her heart sang when an older female dragon flapped up to her.

Welcome to the island of Codhaven, the copper-scaled female said in a warm and melodious alto voice. I am Ydda.

Greetings, I am Gernith. I come from the mainland in search of the western colony.

You have found it. But it grows late, and if you want to see your new home before dark, Gernith, we must do it now. Are your wings ready?

Concealing her exhaustion, Gernith nodded and followed her.

In a short space, Codhaven’s craggy shore gave way to a great forest atop high, rolling hills. This led in turn to a gleaming lake ringed by woods abounding with game. The scenery became better still when the two females winged over verdant meadows and clover-strewn pastures dotted with cattle, sheep, and goats.

There are animals and birds here that I have never seen, Gernith commented.

Ydda smiled. Yes, and you will also find different plants and trees. Nothing is constant in nature, the earth changes as the centuries pass. A species can completely disappear in one place yet still exist elsewhere. So it is with Codhaven.

The climate seems good.

It is hotter in the summer than on the continent, and our winters are mild, though we do have snow. There are odd currents in this part of the ocean and occasionally huge, howling storms. I don’t like the storms but sometimes they bring different plants and animals to Codhaven from other places. All sustain life in this land.

But where are the humans? Gernith asked.

Ydda did not answer. Instead, she turned south abruptly, backtracking over the lake they had already seen.

Gernith thought Ydda had not heard the question; old ones often struggled with their hearing. Ydda, where are the humans? she repeated.

Ydda sighed. There are ten human settlements. Mostly near the beaches and harbors in the northern half of the island. For obvious reasons, we only visit them when we hunt at night.

Her warm smile curled into a frown, and they flapped on silently for a time, leaving each to her own reflections.

So Codhaven is no paradise for dragons after all, Gernith thought.

Soon the two females reached the northern edge of the forest they had passed earlier. Ydda spiraled down to a large, flat plane of granite ringed by dark, jagged peaks. Shadowing Ydda, Gernith touched down gently on the landing place behind her.

Word of the new female spread quickly through the colony and every dragon stirred forth to growl a welcome. There were dozens of them, mostly young and healthy males and females. Rolls of fat padded their ribs and bellies, and except for one very old, humpbacked, warty male that turned out to be Ydda’s mate, all had sleek, shining scales and well-oiled wings.

An enormous dark dragon with massive wings circled overhead, blocking the sun from the landing rock, and back-flapped down to land.

Our leader joins us. Good hunting, my dear, Ydda whispered. Then she bowed, along with all the others, toward the giant dragon lumbering toward them.

Heavily armored with black-green scales, Vilgard had broad, well-muscled shoulders and powerful black wings measuring more than thirty feet. His long, brawny tail ended in a spiked sphere of hardened flesh that could be used as a weapon against anyone or anything that got in his way.

Gernith put her foreleg forward and bowed politely as Ydda introduced her.

Vilgard, this is Gernith. She comes to us from the mainland, where the situation has worsened since we left. They are on the verge of extinction.

Welcome, Gernith, the dragon chieftain said in a deep, booming tone. He waved his heavy foreclaw at the dragons surrounding them. As you can see, we are thriving here.

How? Gernith asked.

Vilgard laughed a deep bass laugh. You’ll grasp it soon enough. You’ll join us for tonight’s hunt, won’t you?

Of course.

Vilgard smiled. Good. For now, I’ll tell you that the humans on this island are simple-minded bumpkins who can barely shoot an arrow. When we came here five years ago to start the colony, the fools didn’t even bother to post sentries. Now there’s usually someone on night watch in each village to warn them when we’re coming. But we move so quickly and our numbers are so great they rarely have time to save themselves, much less their animals, which are what we really want. If a nice beefy human causes us too much trouble, we’ll seize him too, suck the blood out of him, and then drop his carcass back in the village later that night. That generally teaches them not to defy us!

Gernith recoiled. Oh!

Hush, Vilgard, Ydda said. You’re shocking the newcomer. The dragons of the mainland do not eat humans.

And why not? Vilgard said. Humans would eat dragons if their knives and axes could easily penetrate our armor.

Ydda’s mate, Fearclaw, came forward. The warty, hunch-shouldered old male was skinnier than the rest of the dragons, though his paunch was still plump from good feeding. Gernith speculated his name came from his long, gnarled claws, one of which was broken and jagged at the edges.

There are some, the old dragon rasped, who feel it is wrong to eat the flesh or lap the blood of creatures as intelligent as we are. As you know, humans and dragons once lived in peace, and even shared knowledge.

Treating humans as equals nearly caused the extermination of our species! Vilgard thundered. We owe them no consideration whatsoever.

Gernith quickly learned why Codhaven’s dragons prospered when so many colonies had failed. In Gernith’s homeland, only two or three dragons ever hunted together. In the western colony, the entire flight of dragons took wing for each evening’s hunt, except for a female or two who remained behind to guard eggs and hatchlings. Since all of the dragons went at once, they could watch out for and rescue any dragon in danger. Their great numbers significantly increased their chances of survival.

Of course, Gernith reflected, it was far from being a fair contest. Any human who resisted the flapping horde was

scorched or incinerated by dragon-fire. The other poor souls cowered in their beds, waiting until the thunder of wings subsided before venturing outside to see what, if anything, was left of their livestock.

Gernith almost pitied them. Almost.

For Vilgard had persuaded her: the battle between humans and dragons was absolute; there could be no compromise.

And so she shed the gentler ways of the dragons on the mainland, and adopted the cruel and ruthless ways of her new companions. In a short time, she grew fiercer than any in the colony.

Vilgard watched her progress as both a leader and a suitor. His mate had died that winter, and it made sense for the strongest male and female in the colony to pair up. They located a lair in a high cliff a short distance north of the colony. The cave had a fine view of the lake at the island’s center, though white mists rising above the water’s surface frequently obscured the view.

When the mists rolled in, the lake had an eerie aura. Geese and swans moved through the air and water like white ghosts, and even the sounds of fish jumping and insects calling seemed sinister. But the strange pale vapors shrouded the cave from human eyes, providing security, and that was exactly what the dragon couple needed.

Our eggs will be safe here, Vilgard told Gernith. There are no humans for miles around except that crazy, half-blind old woman who lives at the other end of the lake. She keeps no livestock and is too scrawny to bother eating. Besides, with that mist swirling she may never even see us. Even if she does, she could never scale the rocks to enter our cavern.

Gernith nodded absently as she swept out their new home with her tail and prepared a corner of the cave for a nest. She had barely heard Vilgard. Instead, she was daydreaming about having a cave full of hatchlings — about having something to love, something to fight for. Something to balance the heartlessness of her new existence on Codhaven.

CHAPTER TWO

The Witch

The old woman was Hagnore, a solitary soul rumored to be a witch.

Hagnore dwelled along the northern shore of the lake in a small stone cottage simply furnished with a fireplace, table, bed, chairs, clothing pegs and shelves.

A woman of fifty summers, she began each day at sunrise, when she put out seeds, corn and berries for the birds and deer. Then she prepared breakfast, picked vegetables from her garden, gathered fruit from her trees, baked bread, made vegetable stew, put the leftover scraps on a pile outside for her animal friends, and performed other necessary tasks. She spent the rest of the day either inside reading, or outside enjoying nature.

As a result of her long, strenuous workday, and also because no one dared to visit her, Hagnore gave little care to her appearance. She was slim of body, washed herself daily, wove, sewed and mended her own clothes, and kept them clean.

But her hair was rarely combed and constantly askew, and her eyes were strange and frankly spooky. Depending on the light and her mood, her hazel orbs could be either green or brown, and either hard and penetrating or soft and trancelike. When the eyes were sharp, Hagnore spoke quickly and surely, and had an intellect to match any scholar or orator. When trancelike, she could hardly string together two sentences, and someone who hadn’t seen her in the other state might think her slow-witted.

Hagnore avoided dealing with the humans on the island, only leaving her refuge to buy supplies. Aside from her chores, she spent her days studying rocks, plants, animals and birds. She studied all manner of creatures from butterflies to spiders, woodpeckers to wolves, bats to vipers. Deer fed from her hand. Birds flew to her shoulders and nuzzled her cheek. Wild boar led her to places where she could find truffles, which she cooked into a delicious meal and shared with them. Animals trusted her and respected her because she took the time to learn their languages and ways.

Hagnore gathered herbs by the light of the moon and made foul-smelling medicines and potions that left a mess on her kitchen table. And yes, she dabbled in magic. She was powerful in the craft and determined to become even more powerful. But thus far she had used her spells only to protect herself and the animals she guarded.

One evening, when she