In the Shadow of the Dragon King by J. Keller Ford Read Free Book Online Page B

alive. His mother had written the letter, and he was in danger.
    He dangled Lily’s necklace above him. Why did you leave this here?
    The woman’s voice from his dream whispered deep in his mind two words he hadn’t heard before. Keep … safe.
    The pendant swung from side to side in a gentle tick-tock motion. His thoughts traveled back in time to his first memories of Lily. Image after image flashed, and in every frame the necklace was draped around her long, regal neck. That is, until this morning. Until she drove away in his car. David bunched the necklace in his fist, his arm draped across his forehead. His forefinger pulsed. David sat up and removed the ring.
    Hot molten fire shot through his veins, shooting down his legs, up his arms, through his neck. His blood turned to lava, burning, bubbling. An inhuman cry he didn’t recognize as his own bellowed up from his throat. The room blurred. The ring rolled from his hand, and tinked to the floor.
    “Nooooo!”
    Fiery torture raged through his limbs. He dived from the bed, searching. Swimming. Oh, God, make it stop! Cool metal brushed his hand. His fingers curled around the band and slid it into place. An icy wave crashed through his veins, extinguishing the fire, soothing the burn, and calming his blood.
    David stared at the ceiling, panting. “Jesus. What the hell?” His phone rang, but he didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. His body failed to engage in movement. The grandfather clock did its musical gong thing twice, meaning thirty minutes passed before he could coerce his feet to allow him to stand. He hokey-pokeyed about and let out a long sigh. “Note to self. The creepy ring does not leave the finger.” He checked his phone. Charlotte had called. No message. He grabbed his coat and fled downstairs. He needed to see her, and now, but she wasn’t home.
    He walked Chestnut circle from the cul-de-sac to the stop sign, counting his footsteps in his head. When he reached thirty-six, he went home, his feet and legs cold and numb. In the warmth of his room, he crashed on his bed, a picture of Charlotte in one hand, his phone in the other.
     
     
    ***
     
     
    A haze hung around David, lifting him to a green meadow, the morning sun bright and warm. In the distance, a farmer tilled a large field. Children laughed, a dog barked among clothes on a line. Beautiful. Serene. And then it came. Thunder. But it didn’t come from the sky.
    Hundreds of armored knights and soldiers clambered over the hilltop. On horses and on foot they charged one another, spears at the ready. Arrows flew through the air. The reverberations of the battle surged through his being. His heart was like a pendulum slamming against his ribcage. The ground shook.
    Bark. Bark.
    David turned to the children playing. Terror coiled around his spine. His feet left the ground in a sprint. His arms flailed in the air.
    “Go! Get inside!”
    They paid him no mind.
    He ran harder, faster, his arms pumping at his side. An arrow pierced his thigh and agony ricocheted through his bones. He tumbled to the ground. Horses reared around him. Blood splattered his arm. A scream filled the air. He scanned the battleground looking for its source and froze as Charlotte came into view, tied to a lone tree in the middle of the field. The children disappeared, vanished as if never there. He pushed to his feet and ran to her, dragging his wounded leg behind. A man wielding a sword shouted his name, but David waved him away. He reached Charlotte and clawed at the knot binding her wrists, but it failed to budge.
    A sudden burst of wind hit him from behind. Charlotte’s face froze in terror; her expression ripped at his heart. Tears slid down her cheeks. He followed her gaze and stopped breathing as a huge shadow blocked the sun. A monstrous dragon, so plum-purple he was almost black, flew over the field, its enormous mouth open, fangs exposed. Flames bellowed inside its throat. And then it exhaled. Fire flooded the field.