Dragonseed by James Maxey Read Free Book Online Page B

her sound more dragon than human. There was also a strange quality to her posture, the way she carried herself. Most humans tended to keep their gazes toward the ground and walked with their shoulders slouched. Jandra had the unnerving habit of looking straight at people like Burke and Ragnar when she spoke, even though they were obviously her superiors. Finally, her fussing over the dragon child struck him as wrong on some fundamental level, that a human should be displaying such motherly behavior toward a creature covered with scales.
    Jandra cradled Lizard in her arms and scratched him beneath his chin. The little dragon’s eyes rolled up in his head and he made a soft humming noise.
    “He doesn’t need all that attention, you know,” said Shay.
    Jandra looked up. “What?”
    “It’s a waste to give him so much affection,” Shay repeated. “Earth-dragon children are never coddled or cared for. They’re regarded as little more than parasites by adult earth-dragons. They live like rats after they hatch, hiding in walls, eating scraps and bugs and their smaller siblings. They absorb the dragon language by spying. Earth-dragons raise themselves until they’re old enough to hold a tool or a weapon, at which point they’re put to work and treated like any other member of the horde. They don’t get any mothering in their natural upbringing. They aren’t even clear on what the concept of a mother is.”
    Jandra looked annoyed by his argument. “He’s not a rat,” she said. “He’s an intelligent being who can talk.”
    “It’s probably nothing more than imitation,” said Shay. “I’d guess he’s as smart as a parrot.”
    “If a parrot were injured, I’d treat his wounds too,” said Jandra.
    “Good boss,” cooed Lizard, reaching up and stroking Jandra’s cheek.
    Shay turned away, shaking his head. He discovered their fourth companion climbing up through the trap door. This was Vance, a young man roughly his own age, with a wispy blond beard and close-cropped hair that looked as if it had been trimmed with a dull razor. Vance was dressed in the modest clothes of a farm boy; a simple brown wool coat and patched-up cotton britches tucked into boots badly in need of new soles. The only thing new in his possession was his bow—one of the now famous sky-wall bows, forged from steel, strung with wire, the tension tamed by a set of cams at each tip of the bow. Vance was short, barely five feet tall. A series of small white scars on his brow and around his lips, plus calluses covering his knuckles, gave Shay the impression that Vance was someone who’d survived many a tussle.
    “Howdy, Shay,” Vance said, with a nod in his direction. They’d met earlier at the eastern gate. Vance had been the guard who’d allowed Shay’s passage into Dragon Forge.
    Shay raised his hand in greeting. “I’ve heard that you’re going to be our bodyguard. They say you’re good with that bow.”
    “I’m not anybody’s bodyguard if Anza’s around,” Vance said with a soft grin. He stepped close to Shay, and glanced nervously back toward Burke. He cleared his throat, and said, in a whisper, “I heard tell you came here with books. They say you wanted to teach people to read.”
    “Ragnar didn’t approve of this plan, I’m afraid.”
    “Well, um…” Vance said, his voice growing even softer as he leaned in closer. “I’ve got a good head on my shoulders, but I don’t have no formal learnin’. I did my part up on that wall fighting the dragons, but the battle was really won by Burke and his foremen. Them fellows are all the time looking over blueprints and books and sending notes back and forth. That’s the kind of person I want to be. Can you teach me to read?”
    Shay smiled broadly. “I’d be honored.”
    Before they could discuss the matter further, Biscuit came up through the trap door and announced, “The horses are ready at the north gate. I’ve got men I trust standing guard. They’ll get you out