Dragon Groomer
By Amber Kell
4/5
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About this ebook
Derlin thought working at a dragon stable would be the job of a lifetime. Little did he know he’d find the man who would become his world.
As soon as he spotted the dragon groomer Tyron knew he’d found his match. Never before had he felt such an instantaneous attraction.
Derlin has secrets he can’t share, secrets that aren’t only his. When Tyron’s life depends on Derlin’s abilities does he dare to take a chance or does he let Tyron die to protect his family?
Amber Kell
Amber Kell is a dreamer who has been writing stories in her head for as long as she could remember.She lives in Seattle with her husband, two sons, three cats and one very stupid dog. To learn more about her current books or works in progress, check out her blog at http://amberkell.wordpress.com.Her fans can also reach her at amberkellwrites@gmail.com.
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Reviews for Dragon Groomer
46 ratings2 reviews
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Sweet. Little bit dump, but sweet. I like it thou.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5fun fun fun! the dragons were awesome and the boys delicious.
1 person found this helpful
Book preview
Dragon Groomer - Amber Kell
Chapter 1
Derlin Bails stood in the middle of the stables, trying to calm his nerves. His hands shook despite the comforting smells of hay, feed, and the odd sulfuric scent of dragons.
A stooped, gray-haired man approached. He had the timeless air of someone who might’ve been around when they carved the building into the mountain and would still be there when it crumbled around him. Don’t just stand there, boy. Are you the new groomer?
Derlin straightened from a slouch before answering. Yes, sir.
He could do this. Before he’d stood taller than a pitchfork, he’d been cleaning out the stables at his uncle’s dragon farm. Now he had the chance for official paid work doing what he loved. If he couldn’t take care of himself, he’d have to move back home, ruining his only chance at independence. He loved his family, but he longed to see more than the small town he’d grown up in.
Luckily, the man missed Derlin’s internal panic attack.
I’m Yelt, the stable master. You’ll be in charge of this section and grooming the dragons here.
Yelt pointed to a series of stalls on the right. Any questions?
Derlin shook his head. With a quick glance around, he counted fifteen stalls. Not too many, but a good amount to keep him busy. No, sir.
You have your license, right?
Yelt pinned Derlin with a glare from beneath his bushy brows.
Yes, sir.
Derlin hastily pulled a paper from his pocket. His hands shook as he unfolded his license and handed it over. He kept it on him at all times in case the authorities questioned him. There were strict laws governing dragon handling. No license meant no job, and possible fines.
Yelt scanned the paper with a careful eye before returning it to Derlin. Looks official. Hopefully you’re smarter than the last guy I hired. Stay out of the way of the knights. Clean the stalls, polish the dragons, and make sure they’re in good health. Don’t pester their owners with a bunch of questions, and keep out of the knights’ beds. The last groomer who slept his way through the stable doesn’t work here anymore, understand?
Yes, sir.
Derlin tried to put some confidence into his response. His grandfather had always said to look a man in the eye and use a clear, even tone when answering questions. Grandfather Pieto specialized in advice. The man spread it around like seeds, probably hoping something would take root in Derlin’s mind.
You can work for a week. If you do a good job, I’ll keep you on.
Thank you, sir.
At least he had a chance. If Yelt didn’t keep him, Derlin would try finding other work around the training grounds. With his skills, he couldn’t imagine working anywhere without dragons.
Since you’re here, you might as well get started. Supplies are on the wall over there.
Yelt pointed to the north corner of the barn. After cleaning the dragons, release them to the center field so they can get some exercise. Be careful of Sir Grael’s green dragon—he’s a biter with a mean streak. He takes after his rider.
Derlin smiled at the comment, but didn’t speak. He had a feeling Yelt’s stern demeanor didn’t hide a softer man inside. Better to listen and ask questions later than bother him now.
Apparently satisfied he’d delivered his instructions, Yelt excused himself, promising to come back and check Derlin’s work in the afternoon.
Better get started,
Derlin mumbled as he headed to the supply wall. After gathering a bucket and a selection of brushes, he filled up his pail with warm water. He tossed a cleaning charm into the water before approaching the first stall.
A small red dragon popped its head through the narrow opening to check Derlin out.
Hey there, little fellow.
The dragon might be small compared to his brethren, but he was still ten times larger than Derlin. Sliding into the stall with the beast, Derlin made sure to keep his movements slow and nonthreatening. He added some scale cleaner to the bucket, then swished it around with a hard brush before approaching the beast. What’s your name?
Neor,
The dragon’s voice whispered across Derlin’s mind.
Derlin smiled at the noise in his head. Dragons liked chatting. Few people could hear them, so they enjoyed speaking to humans like Derlin, whom they called listeners. Derlin’s dream of being a professional knight had ended when he never grew to meet the minimum six-foot height requirement. He simply didn’t have the arm span needed to control a dragon during a battle.
Although grooming dragons wasn’t a glamorous job, it paid well enough to meet Derlin’s basic needs and allowed him to be near the animals he loved.
After a quick check to verify only dragons were in the stable, Derlin started to sing a low, soft ballad. His voice had always soothed the dragons when he’d worked on them in grooming school. Most people didn’t know how much dragons loved music.
The little dragon closed his eyes; a low crooning vibrated his throat along with Derlin’s singing. Pleased with the effect of his song, Derlin went to work. Dip and scrub, dip and scrub, Derlin fell into a pattern of shining each scale, then rinsing his brush, until the dragon gleamed brighter than a puddle of sunshine.
What are you doing in there with my dragon?
A deep voice broke Derlin’s pattern. Focused on his polishing, he’d missed the newcomer’s approach.
I-I’m the new groomer.
He held up the pail and brush as proof. He didn’t want to be mistaken as an intruder and get tossed out.
A large man glowered down at him from the other side of the stable door. Derlin held his breath as he waited for the knight’s judgment on his skill.
Hmm. I’m Sir Lyrit. Let me see your work.
The knight scowled down at him, increasing Derlin’s nervousness. He dumped his brush into the bucket then slid out of the stall, careful not to make contact with the massive man. He didn’t wish to have anyone accuse him of trying to touch where he wasn’t wanted.
Come out, Deathbringer.
The knight bade his dragon forward with an imperious wave.
Derlin couldn’t stop a snort at the stupid name. Knights always gave their dragons killer names, while dragons would rather sun on a warm rock than go into battle any day.
Did you say something?
Lyrit narrowed his eyes at Derlin.
No, sir.
Sir Lyrit turned back to his dragon, inspecting every scale and horn as if seeking a reason to criticize the least little smudge. Derlin began to second-guess himself.
Had he missed something?
Hmm.
Sir Lyrit looked disconcerted for a moment.
Nerves snapped, and Derlin blurted out, Is something wrong, sir?
He thought he’d groomed the large beast properly, but maybe he’d erred. The knight might have different standards