A Memory of Fire (The Dragon War, Book 3) by Daniel Arenson Read Free Book Online

caked in sand, a primordial child who'd never known
civilization. In her left hand, she held a spear with a stone head,
and across her shoulders she wore the bow she had carved herself and
stringed with vine.
    "This ship will be yours
when I'm dead," Sila said to her. "And I plan on living as
long as your grandfather."
    She stomped up closer. "Father,
how long do you plan to keep this up?"
    He turned away from her, leaned
across the railing, and stared at the cliffs that ringed the cove.
Gulls and herons flew among the trees above. Somewhere between those
trees the two sat chained.
    Sun
God bless us, he thought with a chill. Two
living Vir Requis. Two demons from the past—here, chained on my
island.
    "Father, don't ignore me."
Miya came to stand beside him and glared. "You cannot simply
keep them chained up like that, like... beasts."
    He raised his eyebrow. "I
seem to have been doing a good job of it."
    She groaned. "They're not
here to hurt us. They could have burned us all from the air. They
didn't blow fire. They let themselves be caught rather than kill us.
And now you will keep them chained and—"
    "Miya!" He spun
toward her. "For years, I've let you nurse baby birds that
fell from nests, toss back fish you pitied, and collect your baskets
of caterpillars. But these are no poor animals for you to tend to.
These are dragons. These are—"
    "They are not dragons,"
she said, eyes flashing. "Not anymore. They are humans now—a
man and a woman—and you chained them to a tree."
    "Shapeshifters," he
said and spat overboard. "Demons. You weren't there, Miya.
You weren't in Tiranor when they burned us."
    She looked up into his eyes.
"Did they burn us—those two? Valien and Kaelyn?"
    "Oh, so they have names
now?"
    "Yes! They do. I've
talked to them, and they have names, and they have stories of their
own. They are good Vir Requis, Father. They're... different from
the ones you fought."
    He snorted.
    The
ones I fought.
    No, Sila had not fought the
dragons eighteen years ago. His brothers had. His friends had.
They had all burned. But Sila... he was either wiser or he was a
coward. Sila had fled. He had loaded his ships with survivors and
sailed away. And he left the others behind. He left the millions to
burn.
    He looked down at the hull of
his ship. He could still see those fingernails clawing at the wood,
still hear the people begging to be saved.
    "The ships are full!"
he had shouted that day. "I will return for you. I will
return!"
    They had wept. They had tried
to swim after him. He had loaded his fleet with men, women, and
children, cramming them like cargo, a weight nearly too great to
bear. He brought them to these islands. And when he sailed back to
Tiranor for the others... they were all gone. He found only bones
and ash and lingering screams over the water.
    "They are all demons,"
he said, voice barely more than a whisper. "And you should not
have talked to them, daughter. I forbid you to speak with them
again."
    It was her turn to snort. "I
speak to whoever I like. Remember what you used to call me when I
was a child?"
    "You are still a child."
    She shook her head. "I am
eighteen."
    He nodded. "A child."
    She growled and stamped her
feet. "What did you always call me?"
    He groaned and felt his pain
melt. "An insufferable, pigheaded, scrawny-legged pest?"
    "Father!" She gave a
sound like an enraged hippo. "No! You know what you called me.
Princess of the Islands. That was your name for me. I was born
here, the daughter of our leader. Not born in Tiranor like the rest,
but born wild and free, an islander. A princess." She swept
her arm through the air, gesturing at the cove. "This is my
kingdom, and I go where I like, and I speak to whom I please. So I
spoke to your prisoners. And they told me stories. And they want to
speak to you too. Will you listen to them?"
    He sighed.
    He had led merchant fleets
through storms. He had battled pirates and kraken. He had led
thousands of refugees from inferno into