The Lost Dragon (Cycle of Dragons Book 3), Dan Michaelson [books to read now TXT] 📗

smooth, soft, almost velvety. It was distinctly different than the trees within the forest near the edge of my homeland, though I had already discovered that. When I had first come to the capital, I had ventured into the forest, curiosity bringing me out here. This forest was connected to the forest within my homeland, but it was different, as well. The Djarn lived in both, at least as far as I had been able to determine, and there was an energetic feeling to it, a bit of power that was different from anything else I had encountered in the capital and the Academy.

“Even here,” Manuel went on, “the trees are different. Each one is different. Individual. Unique.”

“Like people,” I said.

Manuel nodded, smiling. “Like people. Perhaps that is all it is. Each tree has a uniqueness to it.”

“What does that have to do with the Vard?”

“The city is unique, as well,” he said, glancing over to me.

“I suppose that’s true.”

“The city is tied to the land on which the Vard live. The land has characteristics that influence those people, much like the land around the forest influences the trees that grow there. Each place brings different power and different connections.”

“Does this have anything to do with where the next attack might be? It was so strange how the attackers tried to make the last assault look like the Djarn. Not the Vard—"

“There is some commonality, though,” Manuel said, ignoring my question. “You can see the leaves are similar. The characteristics of the shape of the tree are similar. Even the smells are similar—especially as you visit this part of the forest, places where these trees have grown strong and proud.”

I watched Manuel, not at all understanding what he was getting at, or what he was trying to share with me, and feeling a bit amused at the change in topic, almost as if he didn’t want to tell me about the Vard or where he thought they might attack. With Manuel, if he didn’t want to tell me, he simply would not.

This was different though. He seemed to want to tell me something, but wanted to do it in his own unique way.

“Much like within the capital. The people here share a common heritage. For the most part, at least,” he said, glancing over to me and smiling. “Most have known nothing other than the kingdom and the protection of the dragons and the king for their entire lives. Other places have known other experiences, and those experiences have taught them differently.”

I finally thought I understood where he was going with this. “You mean like in Berestal where there are some who still support the Vard.”

“Not only in Berestal,” he said.

“So you think the next attack is going to be somewhere the Vard have a connection?”

He ran his hand along the tree, almost caressing it. “I’m not sure. When they attacked in the eastern border, there were some Vard within those cities. Not so many that there should have been supporters to take them in, but enough that we had been aware of their presence and the threat they posed to the kingdom.”

“Are there other cities like that?”

“Some,” he said, nodding.

“Like Berestal.”

Manuel glanced over, nodding. “Berestal would be one.”

“Would the king destroy Berestal the way he destroyed the eastern border cities?”

Manuel took a deep breath, sniffing at the air for a moment before whistling softly. I could hear the shuffling of the mesahn as he came bounding back toward us, though I didn’t see him until he was almost upon us. When he arrived, Manuel rested his hand on the mesahn’s fur, petting him, tracing his fingers through its fur. “I hope not.”

“Hope?”

“Much would be lost if he treats Berestal the same as he did the others,” he said. “Not only is Berestal our westernmost city, but it connects us to a place we can’t connect to otherwise.”

“You fear losing the Wilds? I’d be more afraid of losing Berestal.”

“I fear losing both. I’d fear what it means. And I fear how that might empower the Vard even more.”

“Manuel . . .”

Manuel tapped on the back of the mesahn before looking up at me. “Continue learning, Ashan. You might be needed sooner than you realize.”

“I’ve already been needed. I suspect I’d be needed again.”

Manuel just nodded again. “In that, you’re correct. Study with Thomas, master your connection to the dragons, and be ready for whatever might come. It might be sooner than we prefer.”

He started off toward the forest, and I knew better than to follow him. It didn’t take long for Manuel to disappear into nothing more than shadows. I focused on the dragons in the distance, searching for any that might be out in the forest and whether I could detect anything from them, but the connection was faint and faded.

Even if I could find the dragons, I didn’t know if they would be of any assistance with tracking Manuel; I wanted to follow him so I could know where he was going and what he did.

In this case, it might be better for me to ignore his whereabouts.

The only problem was that I couldn’t ignore what he had said, and as I made my way through the forest, heading back to the city, I was troubled in a way I hadn’t been in quite some time. Even after the attack on the caravan leading away from Berestal, I hadn’t been this troubled. The attack on the capital had been committed by a single individual, one that was devious and dangerous, but not coordinated.

What Manuel suggested as a possibility . . .

It meant people I cared about might be in danger.

I wondered whether Thomas would permit me to leave to check on them.

Even if he didn’t, I might not have any choice but to go.

I’d certainly seen the effect of an attack, and had seen the violence some were willing to inflict. But they hadn’t been Vard. There was another force at play. I wasn’t willing to stand by