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    Flight Of Dragons
    Flight Of Dragons
    Flight Of Dragons
    Ebook113 pages1 hour

    Flight Of Dragons

    By Kyra Dune

    ()

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    About this ebook

    ****Fantasy/Adventure****

    Fourteen years after fleeing his homeland, Charles Sydon lives under an assumed name, comfortable if not happy with his life as a bookkeeper. Until one night his past comes looking for him in the form of a ruthless dragon hunter.
    Now, Charles must return to the Ice Ring on a deadly quest for a wild dragon, a quest that will pull him back into the world he left behind. But he soon comes to find there's more at stake as the past and present collide. Only Charles can save his people from their past mistakes, providing he can live through facing his own.    

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherShadow Portal Books
    Release dateAug 17, 2016
    ISBN9781536512823
    Flight Of Dragons
    Author

    Kyra Dune

    Shadow Portal Books is an ebook publisher offering full publishing services at no outright cost to the author. We also offer paid services to self published authors.

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      Book preview

      Flight Of Dragons - Kyra Dune

      Flight Of Dragons

      Copyright © 2011 Kyra Dune

      ––––––––

      All rights reserved under International Copyright Conventions.  Published in the United States by Shadow Portal Books, a division of Shadow Portal Productions, USA.

      No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or taping, or by any information storing or retrieval system, without written permission from Kyra Dune.

      This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously. Even resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

      SPB Second Edition

      Cover Art By

      Shadow Portal Productions

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. 

      Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      SHADOW PORTAL BOOKS

      *************************************************

      CHAPTER ONE

      ––––––––

      I woke in darkness, with bells ringing in my ears and a hammer in my head. I was aware of wood plank beneath my back but nothing else.

      When I sat up, stars danced before my eyes and my stomach tightened. I squeezed my head between my knees, hoping to ease the queasy feeling rising up in my throat.

      Once I was certain I wasn’t going to be sick, I decided I should try standing. I pushed myself up, feeling as if the air was trying to flatten out my head, and managed to remain upright despite the gentle rocking motion which swayed me to and fro. I brought my hand to my face until my fingers were against my eyes, but I still couldn't see them. Either I was blind, or the darkness was absolute. I fervently prayed for the latter.

      With arms stretched out in front of me, I blundered along, taking short shuffle steps. In moments my questing fingers brushed solid wood.

      I was relieved to find I was in an actual, physical place and not some fathomless void. I leaned against the wall and, now certain I was still alive, began to wonder how I came to be in this place. I leaned over to brace my hands against my knees, closed my eyes, and tried to remember.

      Memories filtered in slowly. The rundown tavern on the corner of Gennel and Bly. The pretty blonde barmaid who served my drinks. The man in the gray coat, who smelled faintly of the sea. Beyond that everything was a blank.

      I assure you I was no drunkard. Even in those days I only rarely lose pieces of my memory to a glass of ale. But that night I must have drunk an awful lot. I certainly felt as if more than half my blood was composed of that golden-brown concoction.

      I took several deep breaths, trying to clear my head, and caught a whiff of air smelling faintly of fish.

      Standing upright again, I held perfectly still and discovered that the slow rocking motion was not the result of too much drink, as I first suspected, but rather a real sensation that grew with each passing moment. 

      This led me to only one conclusion. I was on a boat.

      My next thought was to find a door or window (or porthole if you prefer), anything which might prove a way out of this small room.

      I placed the palm of my hand on the wall and followed it to the right. It wasn’t long before I felt the cool curve of a door handle. But, push or pull as I might, the door refused to be opened.

      A rational person would have stopped and taken a moment to consider the situation. Let’s be clear I was not a rational person at this point. I was a panicked person locked in a small, dark room in the hold of a ship. I had no idea where the ship might be taking me or what fate might lay ahead. 

      As the possibilities of my locale rolled through my head in ever growing absurdness, I became an extremely panicked person. And so I proceeded to pound on the door until my shoulder ached, screaming at the top of my lungs until I was hoarse. When the pain in my head became too much to bear, I sank to the floor and leaned back against the door.

      Less than two minutes later, the door opened.

      Caught by surprise, I fell backward, arms flailing wildly. My head hit the floor and bounced once before settling there.

      Try to imagine, if you can, having your head inside of a drum while the drummer bangs merrily away and you may come close to understanding the way I felt at that moment.

      Get up. The speaker was a man with a strange accent. He accentuated his words by prodding me none too gently with his booted foot.

      I blinked my eyes open, winced at the sudden burst of light, and promptly threw up on the offending boot.

      The man cursed, grabbing me by the arms and dragging me to my feet. The ship chose that precise moment to lean hard to the right and I, still disoriented, banged into the wall and hit the floor on my hands and knees.

      The man hauled me back to my feet again and gave me a shove. A bad choice on his part. I gave walking my best effort but, between the rocking motion of the boat and the black spots playing tag across my field of vision, I’m sad to report I didn’t make it three steps before I was on my hands and knees again.

      With a colorful array of curse words, the man managed to half drag, half carry me up the steps to the deck.

      You might suppose the fresh air and sunshine would have served to revive me. You would be mistaken. I took one look at the heaving, rolling water, gave the man’s other boot a good splashing and promptly passed out.

      CHAPTER TWO

      The next time I opened my eyes, clear blue sky unfolded above me. The pain in my head had receded to a dull throb and I found I could sit up without feeling too sick. Judging by the position of the sun, I guessed it to be sometime in the afternoon.

      A shadow passed over me and when I looked up I saw the face of the man in the leather coat. It was a rough face, lined and worn, with small brown eyes and a beard shot liberally through with gray.

      He smiled at me in a rather unfriendly sort of way. I hope you have better sea legs once you’ve sobered up.

      I leaned back on my hands, tilted my head slightly, and squinted against the sunlight. I’m sober enough to know I was brought aboard this ship against my will. So tell me, if you would be so kind, who are you?

      The name is Captain Jonathan Teegan and you, my dear Mr. Warshaw, are aboard my ship, The South White.

      I gathered I was aboard your ship, what I want to know is why.

      I’m afraid you’ve been shanghaied, Mr. Warshaw. He offered his hand and I took it, allowing him to help me to my feet. When I need a man I get him by any means.

      I’m no sailor, Captain. I grabbed hold of the rail to steady myself. What could you possibly want from me?

      A gull flew overhead, calling out to another in the distance. The Captain watched them for a long moment before replying.

      I’ve heard things about you, Mr. Warshaw. Interesting things. His eyes came back to me

      and I saw a hint of doubt there, an uncertainty.

      I suppose he was waiting for me to either confirm or deny, but I would commit to nothing until I was certain what it was he thought he knew about me.

      "You shouldn’t listen to idle talk, sir. Some people

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