Dragon and Phoenix Read Online Free PDF Page A

those who called to her, running like a deer from the hounds, running from those who wanted to bury her alive.
    It was silly and childish—she knew that. But neither could she sit still any longer. She’d suffocate.
    One of the postern doors was open to the fresh morning air. Maurynna went through it like a bolt of lightning looking for a target.
    She didn’t stop until she reached the paddocks behind the Llysanyins’ stable. A leap that she wouldn’t have even considered trying a few short months ago carried her over the fence to her Llysanyin stallion’s yard. She landed, nearly lost her balance, but caught herself before she sprawled facedown in the dirt.
    Boreal trotted to her, snorting concern over his person’s agitation. Maurynna buried her face in his mane and wrapped her arms around the dappled grey neck, fighting back tears of frustration and anger.
    I can’t be a proper Dragonlord, I can’t be a ship’s captain at all, and everyone wants to either wrap me in wool like some glass bauble or drag me off to fulfill their dreams. Damn it, it’s not fair!
    Boreal draped his head over her shoulder and pulled her closer. Encouraged by the intelligent animal’s sympathy, she drew breath to recite her list of grievances.
    With my luck, the horse will be the only one who understands. The sudden thought made her break into a wry, hiccuping laugh.
    “Thank the gods,” a lilting—if ironic—voice said behind her, “you’re not crying after all. I had wondered about that from the way you fell on Boreal’s
neck. For alas and alack, little one, you’re a wee bit large for me to cuddle on my lap for comforting.”
     
    Raven hunched miserably on the bench and stared at the stone floor. He’d well and truly made a mess of it. He hadn’t thought Maurynna would take it like that.
    The worst of it was that he wasn’t quite certain what he’d said wrong.
    The arrival of two figures at the entrance to the alcove caught his attention. One was a silent Linden Rathan; the big Dragonlord’s face was unreadable. The other was his great-uncle, Bard Otter Heronson. And he was anything but silent, blast him.
    “You always did have a way with words, lad,” his kinsman said cheerfully.
    Raven reminded himself of the penalties for wringing a bard’s neck. Then he reminded himself of the penalties for helping a kinsman out of this life. It was barely enough. “Thank you,” he snapped.
    “Did you really come all this way just to fight with Rynna once more?” Otter asked, all wide-eyed innocence.
    “No,” Raven said. “No, I didn’t, curse you.” Then, remembering the reason he’d journeyed here, he bit his lip in worry. Looking once more to Linden Rathan, Raven said, “Dragonlord, I came here as an escort. The man I guided claims that a truedragon is held captive in Jehanglan!”
    “What?” Otter exclaimed. He shook his head. “Boy, you missed your calling—you should have been a bard!”
    Linden Rathan’s eyes went wide. “A truedragon? That’s impossible.”
    Raven shook his head. “No, Dragonlord. It’s true. My word on it. There’s a truedragon prisoner in Jehanglan—and they’re destroying it.”
     
    It was not often that the full Saethe —the Dragonlords’ Council—met in such haste and need. But the few words the Lady had had last night with this stranger had prompted her to call this gathering, and to send her soultwin Kelder winging north.
    The members of the Saethe filed into the Council chamber. As each entered, they looked curiously at the one seated to the Lady’s left. She knew what they saw—a man obviously ill, his hair hanging lank around the parchment-colored skin of his face, a heavy shawl wrapped around bowed shoulders—and wondered what her fellow Dragonlords thought, what rumors were flying about.
    When all were present, the Lady stood and said, “This is Taren Olmeins, a Kelnethi who was shipwrecked in Jehanglan. He has been a slave there these past thirty or so years.