Kindling Ashes: Firesouls Book I (5 page)

“I am not looking forward to explaining this in the morning,” the traveller man muttered under his breath. Corran leapt on the opportunity to turn on him.

“Explain what? You could explain now. Then there’s no explaining in the morning and nothing to not look forward to!”

He grinned at the brilliance of his logic, but the traveller man just shook his head. They turned off the path, and Corran looked about with interest as they headed into the forest. He
tripped a few times on roots and rocks, but the traveller man and Henry always caught him. A small fire came into sight and Corran perked up. Sleeping bodies were scattered around it, with one old man stood alert. He waved a hand in greeting.

Corran strode forward ahead of the others to kneel in front of the fire, soaking in the warmth. He heard words exchanged behind him and turned to watch as the traveller man talked to the old man on guard, Henry hanging back.

“–Found him by accident. Never heard from him before but I’m certain he’s a Firesoul too. I’ll have to explain in the morning though. He’s far too drunk to comprehend a word right now.”

“I can comprehend!” Corran called. The old man motioned at him to be quiet and the traveller man sighed.

“Go to sleep, Corden. Wait –” He walked over and pushed some water into his hand. “Drink that first.
All of it.
Then sleep, and I’ll tell you everything in the morning.”

Corran frowned at him, but drank the water and decided that perhaps sleep was a good idea. What time was it? He had no idea. He sank to the floor next to the fire and lost himself in dreams.

*

Someone was playing drums. Or banging pots together. Or shouting at the top of their lungs. And all of those sounds were knocking at the side of Corran’s head, bringing him to a bleary wakefulness. He inched open his eyes to peer into the dawn half–light, and stared.

He was in the Moss Woods. There were people all around. Not many, about ten. He recognised none of them – wait, that was Henry!
And… a man from last night.
The traveller man?
His memories blended together into a melting pot of ale and Tilda and Firesouls. Firesouls?

His heart started pounding. If he remembered last night correctly,
he was surrounded by dragon sympathisers
. Glancing around he found everyone else here looked on the weak side, but they outnumbered him. He had no idea what they would do if they found out
who
he was; who his
father
was.

“Corden, you’re awake!”

He winced at the bellow but managed to pull himself into a sitting position as Henry crouched in front of him. He offered some water and Corran gulped it down.

“Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

Corran shrugged. He felt like shit. Wasn’t that obvious?

“Do you remember much?” Henry asked.

A wrinkled man with snowy white hair approached to hand him some bread. Had he been the guard last night? He was bony and didn’t look like he would be any good as a guard if someone did attack.

He shrugged again at Henry’s question and took the bread. It was stale, he could tell that already just by holding it. But he was starving and it was all he had. He took a grudging bite, trying not to move too fast. His head would not stop
pounding
.

“Your name is Corden?” the old man asked. His voice was quiet and rasping, like he had a permanent cough. Corran nodded. “I’m Garth. Thank you for joining us.”

“I don’t think he even knows what’s going on,” Henry said.

“You could tell me?” Corran muffled the sharp tone that wanted to come out. “You and that traveller man bundled me out of Dunslade Town yesterday without explaining a thing.”

Henry at least had the decency to look shame–faced about it. “Sorry. But you were babbling so
much,
Gerard didn’t think
you’d understand. And it’s the kind of news you shouldn’t hear drunk.”

“Okay, well I’m not drunk now. What is it?”

They were all being so mysterious and it was getting on Corran’s nerves. Why didn’t they just come out with it? They didn’t know he was a Dunslade and would be running back to town the first chance he got.

Henry frowned, opening and closing his mouth a few times before speaking. “It’s hard to explain. I knew about this for ages before Gerard arrived, they came to see me near Wint’end.”

“Knew about what?” Corran snapped. He regretted it when Henry drew back a second later, but then Garth spoke.

“I think Gerard noticed symptoms in you. Do you have a scar like this?”

Garth lifted the bottom of his shirt, baring his stomach that was marked with a puckered, red circle. Henry lifted his trouser leg, exposing his own version wrapped around his calf. They were perfect copies of the scar on his own neck that the traveller man, Gerard, had peered at last night.

Corran’s mother had blamed his father and his father had blamed his mother, so he’d had no idea who burnt him as a toddler. Personally, he’d suspected Huw. But it seemed beyond belief that he had a scar so similar to these two when he’d never seen another like it.

“I don’t understand.”

“What do you know of dragons?” Garth asked.

He could feel the eyes of the other people in the clearing on him. It felt like they were ready to pounce.

“I… I don’t know much. It was so long ago. They don’t matter now,” Corran replied, picking his words with care. He looked back towards where he thought they had come into the
clearing last night. Gerard watched him. The hair on his face had not been shaven in some time, adding to his wild appearance, but his expression was calm. He seemed to be encouraging from a distance, while blocking Corran’s escape route.

“What about their magic?” Garth said.

“They can breathe enough fire to burn down a house? They can read minds?”

Someone behind him snorted.

“Um… not exactly. We hardly understand their magic though.” Garth coughed several times, tremors running through his old body, before continuing. “They used some magic when the war turned against them, to preserve themselves.”

Goosebumps rose on Corran’s arms, accompanied by Henry jumping back into the conversation.

“Their
souls
, Corden. Their bodies are gone but their souls are still here! Isn’t it amazing? We all thought they were gone but they’re not!”

“…Souls?” Corran suppressed the shaking that wanted to take over his body. What would it mean, if there were still dragons? Would there be dragonslayers again? “How? Where?”

“In us!” Henry exclaimed.

Those two words sent a chill of horrified understanding through Corran. It felt like every set of eyes in the world was on him, waiting for a reaction. Henry and Garth. Gerard.
Everyone else in the clearing.
His father, his brothers, every Aulander who’d died fighting the dragons.

He didn’t want to think about this, he didn’t want to comprehend it at all – but he had to know for sure. The burn on
his neck, the strange questions about where he’d been at the end of the Dragon War…

“In me,” Corran whispered, turning his head between Henry and Garth for confirmation.

They both nodded, Henry with a massive grin. Terror filled him. “That’s not possible.”

“Few understood the extent of dragon magic even when they were alive – but trust me, it was momentous,” someone else said. Corran turned to find Gerard approaching. He wore a gentle smile and knelt next to them. “It still astonishes me that the dragonslayers managed to defeat them. But dragons always had special connections with humans. You know of the old Fliers, I assume?”

Corran nodded. He had been told that once upon a time humans and dragons had worked together to fight off invading foreigners, at least near the mountains. They’d never bothered to help the southern border.

“The dragons link with them – it’s how they communicate without being able to talk.
Conversations in the mind.
That was the precedent. When they had no other choice and were about to lose the war, they took their souls and fled their bodies, finding any human close that had weak enough mental walls. Babies and children, mostly, but a few adults too.”

“There’s a dragon… in my head.”

“Yes.”

“I know it seems crazy at first, I freaked out too,” Henry said, reaching out to pat his shoulder. “But once you get used to the idea, it’s amazing. We’re the reason dragons exist still! We’re going to undo everything the dragonslayers forced on Auland!”

Every word solidified the fear in Corran’s gut until it felt like there was a lump of gold weighing down his whole body. He had to get out of here. He had to get back to Dunslade Town and warn his father and…

How could he tell Huwcyn the Dragonslayer that his son had a dragon inside him? He could forget to mention it, but that would not erase the fact – and what if someone else realised once this all came to light?

“I think we should leave Corden to process everything,” Gerard said.

Garth nodded and stood, walking away towards a couple of men in their early twenties, one of whom still wore his Dunslade Town guard uniform. Corran resisted the urge to glare at him and demand to know why he was betraying his lord. Henry gave him a grin, another reassuring pat, and hurried away to where an old horse was tethered to a tree.

“I am sorry we pulled you away without a chance to say goodbye. Is there anyone you would like to send a message to, so they know you’re safe?” Gerard asked.

Safe? He was the furthest from safe he’d ever been. He shook his head anyway.

“We’ll be leaving soon for the mountains, we’ve made contact with every Firesoul we knew of in the area. It is just good fortune we happened to find you as well.”

Corran could think of other ways to phrase it. Gerard walked away and revulsion rose in his throat. He searched in vain inside himself for some sign of the dragon. Maybe they were all lying. Maybe they were crazy – or just Gerard was crazy and he’d convinced the others. He tried to imagine what the dragon might look like, if it even looked like anything. How much had it been aware of him? Corran felt a sudden horror at
the thought that he had given this dragon sixteen years of insight into the Dunslade family – plenty for a creature thirsty for revenge.

He had to stay. He had to get this thing out of him or find out how to kill it. His father might be a dragonslayer but he wouldn’t be able to help with this. He’d fought real, fire–breathing dragons, not slithering parasites.

As soon as he knew how to get rid of it he could go back to his father and tell him everything. He might be put in charge of an attack to wipe out this last remnant of dragons because of his inside knowledge. He could come out of this a hero
;
leader of a new generation of dragonslayers.

But first he had to concentrate on not slipping up. Gerard would not stay so simperingly gentle if he found out he had invited a wolf into his flock of sheep.

CHAPTER 5

G
iselle’s stomach growled as she made her way back to the inn for one final delivery. Her payment had been cut in half for bungling at the temple and she’d failed to steal anything worthwhile in the meantime. Combined with Voice’s nervousness about going back to see Sarra, neither of them could wait for tomorrow morning when this would be over and coins would be safe in her pocket.

At least the gold this time had been easy to get to – it was literally placed in her hand when she had made the appropriate order from a bakery. But there had been no food to accompany it and she’d had to walk away from the smell of fresh bread with a scowl that still painted her face

She scaled the wall and found that this time the shutters were already ajar. Sarra sat in a chair opposite the window. Another empty chair had been placed next to her. The look on her face sent uneasiness rushing through Giselle, but she strode across the room and held out the final package.

“Last delivery,” she said, just to confirm it.

Sarra took the bag but placed it to one side without even a glance in its direction. She gestured at the seat and Giselle took it with a sigh.