Onxy Eyes: Chapter Three

If you’re new here and would like to read the previous chapters, click here.

---

I neglected to tell you all my overall series premise. I think it would help you see where I’m trying to take the story/series. I didn’t mean to keep it from you. It just slipped my mind.

The premise for this series was sparked by the wordless books or colored bracelets kids make during VBS to remind them what God does in their lives. The colors: black, red, white, green, and gold tell the story of sin, sacrifice, rebirth, Christian growth, and heaven respectively. The Colors of Belfaylinn is a series of five books in which each book’s theme follows that same pattern. Also, in my storyworld, the fairies use precious stones to power their magic. When a fairy casts a spell, his eye color changes to the color of the gemstone he is using for power, which is why each book title is named for the color of gem that matches the theme.

So Onyx Eyes, book one, will have the theme of sin. Drake needs to mess up. And in doing so, he will require a sacrifice in book two, so that he can receive new life in book three, etc. I need to have Drake sin in a way that will give him lasting consequences that will reach through all five books. And I liked the idea that he would bond with this dragon selfishly, then come to love it but be stuck with the consequences of his sin. 

That’s the story I’m trying to write, anyway.

---

I got stuck in this chapter and had to do some brainstorming to make things work. You guys are seeing my process first hand here. It’s not always pretty, but it usually works out in the end . . . eventually.

I didn’t like Drake’s motivation to go through with the whole dragon/wings thing. He seemed too smart to do something so foolish, especially after Tulak, a person he respects, cautioned him against it. Yes, he wants to find the princess, but he’s not dumb. And I completely forgot that, even if Drake got some wings, he’d need to learn to use them. Drake would have seem this coming. He’s a smarter warrior and investigator than I am. *grin*

So I needed a fix. I hope that what I came up with solves my Drake motivation problems. For now. But I’m still concerned about the sin theme.

And here is a picture of Drake and the dragon, drawn by Nichole White.

 

Chapter Three 

 

Drake left a very unhappy Roose at the bottom of Sleevmor Mountain and climbed the cliffs alone, but for the ram he carried over his shoulders. The animal was sleeping. Forced into slumber by the spell Drake had cast upon it.

Roose did not like this plan. Drake had almost given in and told his lieutenant his concern that someone had cast a spell on him. Yet the urgency that doing so would kill Ayana had been too much. Wrong or not, he needed to see this through.

As he climbed, he recited the spell he planned to use on the dragon. Stonecasting spells should rhyme because crafting words of wit and beauty created a stronger magic. Which was why Drake was a meager stonecaster. He was no poet. Simple spells like putting the ram to sleep and waking it when the time came … those Drake handled well enough. And he’d had Roose’s help with other spells to protect him. But Roose had refused to help with the onyx spell. So Drake had taken the time to write it before climbing the mountain. It wasn’t as beautiful as what Tulak or Roose might compose, but hopefully his time and care would create solid magic.

He still couldn’t believe he was intending to kill an animal—maybe two—and cast an onyx spell. He’d never broken Grounder laws in such a way. He, like all Grounders, believed every living thing was sacred. Yet he couldn’t explain his need to see this through.

A sudden though gripped him. What if this wasn’t a spell but the Maker’s nudge that Tulak spoke of? Perhaps the Maker was trying to lead Drake to the princess?

If so, he couldn’t afford to be sentimental over a few animals. Princess AyanaRynn’s life depended on his persistence. He would not let her down.

Dozens of dragons lived in the cliff caves of the mountain that overlooked Glasderry. But not just any dragon would do. Drake had seen his quarry hunting many times before. It was a male dragon, mid-size and strong with red and black scales. And it was the fastest flyer Drake had ever seen.

If Drake was going to be stuck with wings for the rest of his days—wings that would enable him to fly—he wanted wings just like those.

Bigger dragons kept closer to the bottom of the mountain where they could swoop easily upon full-grown bucks and carry them back to their caves. But the red dragon’s cave was high up on the cliffs, in spite of the bighorn sheep it preferred. This was another reason Drake had chosen it. He admired the way the dragon challenged itself. It wasn’t lazy. It liked a challenge and didn’t allow its smaller size to hold it back from succeeding in whatever it tried. Drake felt they were kindred spirits, he and the red beast. He only hoped it would not be suspicious of a ram wandering into his cave.

The switchbacks up the side of the mountain cliff seemed to last forever. Drake’s thighs burned with the effort of his climb and the multitude of spells he carried. Roose had used crystal to make Drake invisible, a ruby to make his movements silent, an emerald to mask his hostile intentions, and Shieldstone to protect him from any magic the dragon might wield. Plus Drake was maintaining his own warrior cast to protect his mind and body and enhance his strength. And still he was nearly exhausted. The weight and heat of the ram on his back did not make things easier. By the time he reached the final switchback to the dragon’s cave, his tunic was heavy with sweat.

The entrance to the cave was a teardrop-shaped hole in the cliff’s face—narrower than he had expected. Perhaps he had the wrong one? The red dragon was smaller than most, but Drake couldn’t imagine the beast fitting through that opening.

Drake let the ram slide off his shoulders and left it on the ground outside the cave. He peeked through the opening. It was dark and sounded like the first sprinkles of rain. At first he could see nothing. But slowly the interior came into focus. Dripstones hung from the ceiling—the source of the rain sound. The floor was piles of bones: mostly sheep bones, skulls, and horns. Flies buzzed around a sheep carcass that still had meat and wool on it. Drake’s gaze paused on a particularly long bone that looked Malaki or maybe human.

The sight chilled him. Why hadn’t he considered that the dragon might eat him?

He reminded himself that he had magic on his side, the stonecaster bands around his arms, and the onyx orb in his hipsack.

The dragon was no match for his brains.

The egotistical thought gave him pause. How unlike him to be so coldly calculating when another life was at stake—he remembered the ram outside the cave. Make that two lives.

Was he really going to do this?

For AyanaRynn he continued his surveillance of the cave. And there, curled against the back wall, the dragon slept. He was bigger than Drake had thought. Three times the size of the biggest elk. His scales looked black in this low light, yet there were glimmers of red.

Yes, this was the right cave. The right dragon.

The one he needed.

He checked that the stonecaster band on his right arm was still folded so that the prase stone touched his skin. When he saw that it was, he went back to the ram and lifted it by the ankles—front ones in his right hand, back ones in his left. He stepped inside the cave and laid the ram on the pile of bones, tilting its legs toward the sleeping dragon. Then he slipped back outside the cave and crouched at the entrance, peeking inside.

“Awake, young ram, arise awake,” he muttered. “Awake and help AlstonFoyledrake.”

The ram’s body jerked to consciousness. It rolled to its hooves and stood, slipping slightly on the unsteady pile of bones.

Almost time.

Drake’s heart thudded, and he suddenly snapped to reality. What was he doing here? That ram was going to die. Tulak’s warning played over in his head. He needed to leave. Now.

Instead, he withdrew the onyx orb from his hipsack and cradled it in both hands. Odd. It was as if his mind and actions were working against each other.

The ram took a step, and its leg sank into a pile of bones. It bleated.

The dragon stirred. Opened his eyes. Rose onto its front legs, nostrils flaring, smelling the ram.

Any moment now…

Drake could still turn back. The ram likely couldn’t be helped now, but Drake could forget this ridiculous plan of mutating his body with the symbol of his enemy.

What did he want wings for? They were hideous. A deformity that Aerials claimed made them superior. He disdained wings.

The dragon pushed up to all four legs and slunk toward the ram, a predatory gleam in its eyes. The trapped animal twittered and struggled, his free legs climbing in place, trying to pull himself free.

The dragon struck, darting at the ram like a snake. The ram’s shriek cut off with a crunch.

Drake looked away. Now. Now! He clutched the onyx orb, and spoke his spell aloud.

“Shapestone, onyx, black as night,

I need wings that give me flight.

A dragon slee—eats before my eyes,

With wings so grand with which he flies,

I want the same style wings for me,

So I can fly successfully.”

Pain came instantly to his stomach as if he’d eaten something rotten. Then an itch in the middle of his back. It grew in intensity, sharper, deeper, as if someone was slowly dragging a dagger along his spine and pressing it deeper and deeper into his skin.

His fingers trembled and he fought to keep his hold on the orb.

The dragon stopped eating and turned to face him. Malaki. I smell you, though I cannot see you. What did you do?

The voice startled him. Low and musical, it reached inside—similar to how the voices of Old Ones did, but the words were cold rather than warm. It made him shiver.

It could talk?

Flesh and fabric tore as something protruded from Drake’s back. He groaned, which quickly escalated into a scream. His toes gave out. He fell from his crouch to his knees and pressed the orb against the ground to keep his balance.

The dragon turned in a half circle, its tail swinging past Drake. It stopped with its face inches from Drake’s. It opened its mouth in snarl. And with it came rotten and warm breath.

Drake turned his head and choked in fresher air. It was going to eat him, now. Fair enough. He’d been a fool to come here and attempt such a—

Speak, Malaki!

Drake jerked back to face the dragon.

What magic did you bring to my cave? But the dragon’s mouth did not move.

“I …” Drake gasped in a breath, confused, “needed a favor.”

Since when do dragons grant favors to Malaki?

Drake needed to stall until he could escape. He tried to push himself back into a crouch as he forced out words he hoped would be convincing. “Most of the great things done throughout history were great,” he took a quick breath, “because they were done first.”

You imply that this favor will be a great thing?

“It could stop a war.” Drake managed to get back on his feet, but he couldn’t release the onyx. He tried to drop it, but his hands were not responding to his desires.

 

Dragons have no interest in Malaki wars. We keep to ourselves.

“I’m sorry.” Drake wedged his knee between his hands and pushed against the onyx. Finally, the stone flew out of his grasp.

The pain increased, and Drake lost consciousness.

 

●            ●            ●

 

He awoke on his back, lying in the mouth of the dragon’s cave. Multiple sensations came to his mind all at once: pain, light, stiffness, hunger. His back hurt, and he could feel something foreign underneath him, like lying on a pile of sticks. Bones, perhaps? His limbs were stiff. How long had he been out? Light spilled through the cave’s opening. But which day was it?

His legs tingled. He tried to move them and couldn’t. He lifted his head and looked down to a sight that nearly stopped his heart.

The dragon’s head lay across his thighs, as if using them as a pillow. And he could see his own body now. The invisibility spell must have worn off.

Was the dragon dead? Had the Shapestone spell killed it?

Then beast snorted, producing a puff of air that stirred the dust on the floor. A sneeze came upon Drake so suddenly he hadn’t time to stop it. The force racked the muscles in his back, and he clutched his chest as it to hold himself together.

The dragon lifted its head and turned so that he was looking at Drake. Its face was similar to a horse’s but was covered in tiny red scales rimmed in black, and it had an overbite that was filled with a row of teeth, each the size of a dagger’s blade. Two short black horns on top of its head curved slightly toward one another. And its eyes were yellow and bright and staring at Drake, who had to remind himself to breathe, though the air was far from pleasant.

What is this spell you cast, Malaki? Tell me … The tone held a threat.

“It’s a bonding spell,” Drake said. “I needed wings.” But why? Why had he come to a dragon’s cave seeking wings? He had never done anything so foolish in all his days.

Yet I still have mine. The dragon rose, extending his wings over them like a long, scaly red canopy.

Drake trembled at the way the creature towered over him. “I only needed to copy yours.” He reached behind and pushed himself to sitting, scooted back, wanting to get away. His fingers met something smooth and wet. When he brought back his hand, his fingertips were red. Blood. He was bleeding. Why?

His back. The wings. Oh, he had wings now. What had he done?

He needed to get to Roose. If he was still bleeding, he might not have much time left.

He rolled to his knees, then stood slowly, one leg at a time. His legs tingled as blood started to circulate again. He turned and walked toward the cave’s exit, each step shaky, eyes bulging at the patch of blood on the rock under his feet.

The dragon came up behind him, rotten breath hot on his neck. You are not an Aerial? That voice, the way he seemed to hear it inside himself … it made him shiver.

 

Drake paused, considered pulling his sword, but doubted he could kill the dragon in his weakened state. He turned slowly until he could see the dragon, backing up a step as he did. “I’m a Grounder. I needed wings to impersonate an Aerial.”

Because they took the princess. Because she’s your mate.

“Well, not exact— How did you know that?”

I don’t know. How can you speak inside me?

“I’m speaking inside you?” This was bad. Why hadn’t he heeded Tulak’s warning? Why had he ignored his own conscious? He knew better than this. He’d been trained better.

Then why didn’t you listen to your training?

Drake shuddered at the question, at how the beast had seemed to read his thoughts. “I-I’ll go ahead and l-leave now.” He couldn’t stop shivering. He crouched and picked up the onyx orb, dropped it into his hipsack, slid back another step. “Sorry to have b-bothered you. Uh … enj-joy th-the ram.”

Drake slipped back out of the cave. The cool air was like a breath of new life, cleansing his lungs of the stale, rotten air that had been inside and making him suddenly warm. He turned his back on the cave and started downhill, eager to get away from the dragon and find Roose. His lieutenant had promised to wait at the bottom of the mountain. Again he wondered how long he’d been gone.

At the first switchback, he caught sight of the dragon on the previous path, following him. The sight startled him so much that he stumbled over a root sticking out into the path. He was bright red in the daylight.

“Go back to your cave!” Drake waved his arm at the beast. Though considering those teeth, maybe he shouldn’t be so bold.

He increased his pace, eyes darting between the path and the dragon. It remained in place, watching him, wanting to be near him. The farther Drake went, the more it ached to follow.

What? Drake shook off the strange thought. The steepness of the incline at the corner that led to the next switchback forced him into a jog to keep from falling. He plodded around it, and a sharp ached stabbed his gut. He pressed his hand against his side. He should have brought some food. Movement up ahead. A squirrel’s tail disappearing into the bushes. He increased his speed. Lunch.

The thought stopped him cold. He wasn’t hungry enough to eat a ground squirrel. Where had that idea come from? He looked back up the incline but did not see the dragon. Good. It must have gone back to the cave.

He continued on. But at the next corner, a shadow passed overhead. He glanced up. The dragon circled in the sky above like a vulture stalking its next meal.

I will not eat you, Malaki. I only want to be near you. The farther you travel from me, the more I ache to follow.

Panic rose in Drake’s chest. He had used a Shapestone spell on the dragon, and now it wanted to come with him! He couldn’t very well take a dragon along as he impersonated Prince Suel’s valet. What would he do now?

He had no choice but to keep moving. He continued zigzagging down the side of the mountain cliff, careful to take sure steps on the narrow switchbacks.

By the time he reached the trees, the ache in his stomach had grown to overwhelming. Could the dragon be right? Was their separation causing this pain?

He stopped to rest, leaning against a tree. He needed the dragon. Where had it gone? He scanned the treetops, looking for the shadow of the beast. He did not see it.

He longed to see it.

Foolishness. He forced himself to continue. One step at a time. When he rounded the final switchback to the forest, he could see Roose waiting for him in the clearing ahead. He staggered toward his friend.

“Malaki mud, but you’re eyes are black.” Roose narrowed his eyes. “So it worked? Can you fly?”

Drake took a sharp, painful breath. “Haven’t tried. I think something’s wrong.”

“Turn around and let’s see.”

Drake turned.

“Olyoly! They’re, uh, stuck in your shirt. One side is poking out through a huge rip. They’re all leathery.”

Drake felt Roose touch his wings and the contact surprised him. He had wings now.

Now and forever.

What had he done?

“No,” Roose said, “it’s more like snakeskin. Huh. Should I cut off your shirt? I doubt you could get it off the normal way, even if you tried.”

“Dunno,” Drake slurred. “Guess-so.”

“I can’t believe you did this.” Roose tugged at the back of Drake’s tunic, and the fabric ripped. “You’re an Aerial now—at least that’s what everyone will think.”

An Aerial. Would AyanaRynn think that too? Drake hadn’t considered that. He hadn’t considered much. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

Roose snorted a sarcastic laugh. “You know I tried.” Another rip and Roose pushed the left side of Drake’s tunic over his left shoulder, then did the same for the right side. “It’s not that bad, really, Captain. Olyoly… They’re bigger than Prince Suel’s.”

Drake peeled his shirt off each arm and dropped it on the ground. “It’s not bleeding?”

“No. There’s a lot of dried blood, though. They look real. Like you’ve always had them. They’re poking out … it’s like they’re part of your shoulder blades. Can you move them?”

“Don’t know. Haven’t really tried. I’m in a bit of pain.”

“What kind of pain?”

“My stomach. It … oh, wait. It’s better now. I don’t—”

Yes, much better.

Drake turned around just as the red dragon dropped from the sky in the clearing behind Roose. “Oh.” Good, good. This was better.

Roose spun around. “Ho! Is this your partner, Captain? I think he followed you.” He pulled his sword. “Back, you beast! We want no trouble from you.”

The Grounder stonecaster brought trouble to my cave. When he leaves, I hurt.

It was as Drake had feared, yet he said, “It’s likely just an aftereffect of the spell. I’m sure it will wear off.”

Roose glanced over his shoulder, brow furrowed. “You think him following you is an aftereffect?”

“I was talking to the dragon. I don’t suppose you heard what he said?”

“I heard the beast growl.” Roose stepped back beside Drake, sword still at the ready. “You think it’s talking to you?”

“In my head. I hear its thoughts, and it seems to be hearing mine. It thinks we need to stay near one another or we experience pain. Why would the spell connect our minds?”

“What was the spell? Recite it to me.”

Drake repeated it.

Roose shook his head. “It was nothing pretty, Captain, but I don’t see how that rhyme would bond you to one another. Must have been the Shapestone. What did Tulak say about the aftereffects of using onyx?”

“He said …” But Drake couldn’t allow himself to even think it or the dragon would hear and know. And then what? “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does,” Roose said. “We should visit Tulak and ask his advice. He could help.”

“There’s no time,” Drake said. “I need to learn to fly. I need the valet’s mask. And I need to get into Prince Suel’s presence. The sooner the better!”

He pressed his hand against his heart. It was racing. Cold fury pulsed through him, making him anxious to be on his way.

When Roose spoke, it was softly. “Yes, well, you can’t bring this dragon to Glasderry. Or the Aerial village.”

“We’ll have to lock it up.” Yes, that was how he’d manage. “I’ll just have to deal with the pain of being apart from it.”

The dragon growled. I will not be imprisoned.

“I have a better idea,” Roose said. “I’ll shrink him. Then you can carry him in your pocket.”

The idea seemed ludicrous. “You can do that?”

“Sure. You’ve seen children with tiny squirrels, haven’t you? Even the young prince has one.”

Yes, Drake had seen that. Perhaps it could work.

The dragon growled again and this time pawed at the ground. I will not be made small.

“Then you can stay here,” Drake said. “Alone.”

I will follow you.

Drake folded his arms. “For now. But you can’t follow me through the narrows. Dragons can’t enter the human realm.”

Why would you enter the human realm?

“To lose you.”

The dragon snorted. You will experience pain.

“I can deal with the pain. I’m not afraid.”

Dragons fear nothing!

“Then give this a try. Shrinking him is not permanent, is it, Roose?”

Roose was staring at them, eyes wide. “Uh, no. It’s a simple combo cast. Crystal and quartz.”

Will I be able to change back on my own?

Drake repeated the question.

“No, it requires a caster. In fact, it’s probably best if you cast it, Captain. That way you can change him when you need to.”

Drake looked at the dragon. “Well?”

If you keep me small forever, I will eat your fingers off in your sleep.

“Fair enough.” Though Drake shivered at the idea of those dagger teeth in miniature form. He turned to Roose. “We’ll do it.”

“Oh-kay. You know, that’s weird, watching you talk to yourself.”

“I’m talking to the dragon.”

“I know, but that’s not what it looks like. Just be careful people don’t see you talking to it.”

“Advice I can hardly argue with. So, dragon. Before we make you small, I need to learn to fly. Can you help me?”

The dragon flapped its wings. Do I have a choice?

“Captain, no offense,” Roose said, “but I’m not sure you should go through with this.”

“It’s a little late for that now, don’t you think?” Drake tried to move his wings, saw one edge into his line of sight over one shoulder.

“It’s just that,” Roose said. “Even if you learn to fly in an hour or two, won’t you draw as much attention to yourself flying poorly or failing to fly than you would have standing on the ground with a wing mask?”

Drake felt small then, as if he had been exposed as a complete fool. How had he not considered this? What was the matter with him? Why had he done this? Gone against Tulak’s advice? Broke the law? Killed the ram, and maybe, in time, the dragon as well. Why hadn’t he listened to Tulak’s warning?

Something blinds you. In your mind.

Drake stared at the dragon, the truth dawning slowly. Yes, there was a spell on him, twisting his reasoning. He had ignored it. “Tulak knew.”

Roose sheathed his sword. “Knew what?”

Someone had put a spell on him. But who? He opened his mouth to ask Roose for help, but the words stopped, stuck in his throat.

You need help. Why don’t you speak?

The words won’t come. Drake tried again. “There’s … a … ahhh!” He fell to his knees at the pain in his head.

The dragon growled.

“Captain!” Roose crouched beside him. “What’s wrong? Is it the dragon?”

“Test …” He gasped, looked at the dragon. Help me fight it!

The dragon pawed at its head. Was it hurting too? And then it whimpered and sank to the ground, head on its feet, eyes closed.

And Drake’s pain vanished. “Test me for spells,” he said quickly.

“What am I supposed to find? You cast a spell on yourself.”

The dragon whimpered. It was one of the most pitiful sounds Drake had ever heard. He needed to be quick about this.

“Yes, but you should still be able to detect others, no? I haven’t been myself in regard to getting these wings, have I? You weren’t the only one who tried to talk me out of this.”

“But you … you care for the princess. I thought—”

“Test me!”

“All right!” Roose fiddled with his stonecaster bands, twisted a ring so that the stone was on the inside of his fingers, then placed his hands on Drakes bare shoulders. He muttered under his breath, words Drake couldn’t make out. He shook his head, frowned. “There is another spell. Olyoly, it’s deep.” He removed his hands, flipped a two layers down on his left stonecaster band, twisted another ring, then put his hands back. “Brace yourself, Captain. I’m going to try and remove it.”

 

End of chapter

 

I hadn’t planned for there to have been a spell on Drake when I started the story, but now that I’ve added it, I like that there are some mysterious people messing with him. I pretended I had already written in clues of Drake sensing a powerful magic and a warning from Tulak, so now I need to go back and plant that in my previous chapters.

I still have a problem, though. This book is supposed to be about Drake committing a terrible sin. And I had planned for that sin to be committing the forbidden magic that bonds him with the dragon. But with my fix, it means that Drake was tricked into sinning. People are tricked or lured into sin sometimes, but I wonder if the story would be more powerful if the sin was fully Drakes idea and choice.

What do you guys think? I skipped the poll this time around since it’s not working very well. Please let me know your opinions in the comments. If things aren’t working, I might need to make some changes before I continue writing.

Thanks for reading!