Shadow Dragon Read Online Free PDF

Sylakians have vastly greater resources. So, coming to our strategic needs. Resources. Securing our borders. We know that Ignathion is the real strategic thinker, while Supreme Commander Thoralian is one-dimensional in his approach. So, if we’re dealing with Thoralian we must fight on two fronts. However thin that spreads us, it will cloud his judgement.”
    “But my mind keeps returning to two Islands. And they lie reasonably close together, here to the west and southwest of Sylakia–Fra’anior and Jeradia.”
    Aranya nodded, enjoying the spark in her father’s eyes as he expounded his views. She said, “Fra’anior I understand, because they’re our ally and there’s Dragon-lore to be found there–we discussed that. But, Jeradia? Dad, you’re not doing me a favour because of Yolathion?”
    “A teensy favour,” he said, illustrating with his fingers. “I’m hoping Yolathion can persuade his people to rebel. That would give us a pool of excellent warriors and a powerful bargaining-chip with Ignathion. In twelve summers’ fighting against him, I never enjoyed that luxury. Jeradia and Fra’anior are the keys to the Isles west of Sylakia. Hold those and you hold the West–if you don’t have a group of angry tribes or Sylakians backstabbing you. Hence the surprise tactic, the attack that sweeps north-south along the Western Isles before turning–suddenly–toward Sylakia.”
    Moving between the tables to his side, Aranya quizzed him, “Dad, you aren’t planning to conquer the tribes?”
    “No, Sparky.” His well-loved grey eyes rose slightly to measure her stature. “When did you rise from the Cloudlands to overtake your Dad, eh?”
    With a grin, Aranya rose onto her tiptoes. “My, how you’ve shrunk, old man.”
    “Huh. A father should not have to look up to his headscarf-less daughter. It’s not right.” But his complaint came with a wry grin and little force.
    “Sorry.” Self-consciously, she began to brush her long, multi-coloured tresses back from her face.
    “Stop that.”
    “Wearing a headscarf is so awkward when I keep changing–”
    His snort brought her up short. “I love it,” he said. “You’re so much the image of your mother, half of my heart feels as though it has flown back in time. Don’t you ever be ashamed of that glorious mane.”
    Izariela! Aranya groaned at the weight of unbearable grief. Her pale, half-transformed face. Her unmoving chest. No, she had to hold firm to the hope that her mother had only been poisoned, that she could somehow be revived and brought forth from her strange crystal tomb. Seeking justice for Izariela paled in comparison to this hope which burned so hotly in her breast, it flickered as a living flame within her.
    “Now,” said Beran, “you and I both know that the tribes would never be content to be yoked to Immadia, nor do I have ambitions to replace the Sylakian Empire with one of my own. But I will do what is necessary for the Island-World.”
    Aranya gave him a one-armed hug. “You know, as a Dad you’re just about tolerable, besides being an adequate King.”
    “Ah, you flatter me,” Beran chuckled in his beard. “I’m just trying to resolve all the trouble my prodigal Dragon-daughter has stirred up. If we accidentally fix the Island-World in the doing, that would be a smashing result. So, Sparky. Cough it up. Why the shadows lurking in those amethyst eyes?”
    He knew her far too well.
    Aranya considered the map for a space. His strategy was as clear as fine crystal. It made sense–but there were many unknowns, not least, what they might have roused now that the secret of Sylakian Shapeshifter Dragons was revealed to the Island-World. As her father regarded her expectantly, Aranya took up his unspoken challenge.
    “Darron moves south to Yorbik Island,” she said. “He lays siege to the Sylakian fortresses and the Dragonship shipyards there. I adjudge from this blue counter that you have Zip and Ri’arion accompanying him?”