The DeCadia Code (The DeCadia Series Book 1) (9 page)

“Put them to work,” she said, her voice resolute. “We need all the hands we can get to repair
The Emerald
and get her airborne. Just don’t let them work together and pair them with some of our best watchdogs. And the girl?”

Lukas’ lips thinned and he narrowed his eyes. “I put her in my cabin.” Valeria didn’t react for a moment, then her head slowly came up and her deep green eyes pierced his. They were almost menacing, still Lukas stood his ground as he explained. “You and I both know it’s not a good idea to leave her on the deck to see all the dead bodies when she awakes. That might startle her enough to change and we don’t want that. Treating her with some care and respect might save our lives.”

“If she tears my ship apart…”

“Your ship is already torn apart,” he gently reminded her.

“It’s not torn in two as of yet!” she seethed.

“No,” he agreed, “but if we don’t try to treat her with some civility, she will react unfavorably. Let’s try to be diplomatic and see where it gets us. She’s just a young girl, Valeria. She’ll be scared and alone when she wakes up. It’s a feeling you and I both know well.”

“If she destroys my ship, your hide is mine,” Valeria told him after a long while, her eyes snapping mad.

He nodded. “We need to go to the village and negotiate a price for supplies. You know the chief will only barter with you.”

She sighed and he managed a grin. The chief wanted Valeria as his wife and always tried to negotiate that as his price. It was a fun conversation to watch and after the day’s events, Lukas needed that.

“Let’s go.” She stood and he followed her out. It was going to be a long couple of days.

***

She awoke as if from a dream. A painful dream that touched her memory then retreated twice as fast when she tried to recall the details. Her mouth was dry. The pain coming from her head was harsh, though bearable. She had been through much worse during her rearing.

Trying to move her hand to her face, she discovered her wrists were bound. Not only her wrists, her legs as well. She took a moment to quiet her mind. Her temper flaring now would do her no good. If her plan was going to succeed, she needed these humans on her side.

A quick look around the room led her to believe she had been brought to a higher-ranked officer’s room when she remained unconscious. While she didn’t know much about humans and their way of life, she did know that a room as large as this one did not belong to a lowly servant.

She was alone: no noise drifted through the door or walls. With a flick of her wrists, she snapped the ropes holding her arms as though they were nothing. Two quick jerks from her legs did the same to the thick ropes securing her lower body to the bed. Ryderoux Firebound Windfury, first of her name and heiress to the Dragon crown, stood from her place on the bed. Although she was still recovering from the wound whose pain pulsated through her head like a heartbeat, Ryderoux couldn’t help but take a moment to examine the room further.

It was silly, she knew. One with dragon blood of the purest degree flowing through her veins being intrigued by the humans was unheard of. Still, she couldn’t help herself. Her wonder knew no bounds, nor did it ask permission as to what was acceptable to know and understand.

She slowly turned in a full circle taking in all the mysterious trinkets and belongings to the human that owned the room. There were maps and charts on the walls, a desk that looked as though it had seen better days with a variety of knickknacks and treasures strewn across it, and a battered dresser with open drawers, a pile of clothes pouring forth. All of this and more made a smile play across Ryderoux’s lips.

To others of her kind, all of these things would prove nothing more than a passing thought. Dragons of every clan looked down on the humans as weak and inferior: the tools they used and their belongings were filth in dragon eyes. Ryderoux, on the other hand, found the objects more precious than treasure.

Even now, after examining the room, she walked to the dresser. A thin wooden object with short bristles on one end caught her eye. Her hand played over the item as her imagination took flight and danced across a dozen different ideas as to the purpose of such a creation.

Ryderoux spent a few minutes enjoying the sensation of the strange tool. More than that, she finally allowed herself to revel in the fact that she was free. Free from the oppression of her kind, free from the duty she did not ask for nor want. Ryderoux was now unrestricted to take on and keep her human form as along as she saw fit. There would be no more lessons of the old world, no more advisors telling her how to act or what was expected from her.

As she headed for the room’s door, she laughed out loud. Freedom was intoxicating and it was a feeling Ryderoux wanted more of. As she tried to open the cabin door the steel handle refused to budge. Remembering to apologize for the knob later, Ryderoux broke the handle in her hand with ease.

She stepped from the quarters smoothing her clothes around her slender figure. If she wanted these humans to accept her and provide passage, she would need them on her side. Clearing her throat, she started down the long hall. Boots slapping against parallel planks that made up floors and the realization that she was going to have interaction with humans brought a surge of panic. After all, her first encounter with them had earned her a concussion, a slight she was willing to forget under the circumstances. Her kind had been trying to kill the humans at the time.
Take comfort,
she told herself as she continued down the hall,
you are a princess trained in diplomatic matters. Surely, you can see your way through a simple conversation.

Her internal pep talk seemed to work. Head held high, she found a series of stairs leading toward the upper deck. In a few moments, she reached the top floor. A light breeze played with her pale hair. The reassuring fresh breeze whispered of something she knew well.

Ryderoux closed her eyes for a brief moment, enjoying the rush of wind against her body. When she opened them to take in her new surroundings, an army of strangers stared back at her. Most faces looked at her full of wrath, others with fear in their expressions. Ryderoux forgot first, how furious they must be and second, how her human figure was one of beauty unfamiliar to human eyes. As a sign of peace, she extended her arms wide and lowered her head. When she looked up, words of greeting were already on her tongue, “Peace to you. My name is Ryderoux Firebound Windfury and I mean you no harm.”

If she thought her words were going to bring comfort, she was wrong. Everyone stood without a sound. Menace was in more than a few sets of eyes. Ryderoux could see the sunlight gleam off drawn swords and rifle muzzles. Some were in the middle of carrying broken pieces of the ship to the rails and others were carrying bodies or scrubbing the deck of blood, but all stopped now to deal with their perceived enemy. Realization struck her at once. These humans had just been through a fight for their lives. Many of them had friends who had not survived the conflict with her kind. Instead of making the tense situation worse, Ryderoux decided to speak directly to the person in charge. “I understand times are trying. Again, I will say that I am not your enemy. I wish to speak to the king or queen that commands this boat.”

Still nothing. Ryderoux was beginning to feel agitated when one of the sailors sheathed his blade and ran below deck. Appeased that her wishes were being fulfilled, Ryderoux busied herself with all there was to see. At no point did any of the humans offer to exchange words with her and all the while a multitude of weapons were pointed in her direction. Ryderoux decided to ignore their searching eyes.

All around her was a world she had always seen from afar. Trained to use her human form only when the situation necessitated, she spent most of her time in her dragon skin. Now, she was not only taking the form in which she was most comfortable, but she was also in the midst of a group of humans. Ropes reached from the deck high overhead to a dozen different sails. A raised platform was home to the ship’s wheel that stood commanding and firm.

Ryderoux was still soaking it all in when the human who rushed downstairs reappeared. He stood fidgeting with a look of controlled aggression painted across his filthy face. “It seems the Captain of the ship is gone at the moment if you—”

Ryderoux waved anything else the man was going to say away with a brush of her hand. “That is acceptable. I will wait. Please tell the Captain I am eager to hold court as soon as he or she returns.”

The man spat at her feet. “That as it is, we won’t allow you to roam freely on board. You will be chained and confined to a section of the deck under guard. When the Captain returns, you can have your words.”

Ryderoux ignored his untrusting disposition. If putting chains on her made them feel better about themselves, then so be it. Let them bind her with things she could break if she so chose. While they bound her to the railing of the ship with shaking hands and thick chains, Ryderoux contented herself in looking away from their weapons still pointed at her and to her surroundings. To be on an airship was truly amazing. Her respect and admiration for human ingenuity grew as her eyes soaked in the details of the ship’s craftsmanship.

Her race was one of tradition and power. The extent of her kind’s creativity rested in the workmanship of their caves. Besides the focus on their homes, dragons relied on their knowledge and raw power to accomplish tasks. Tools were a waste of time. They also had no desire to travel farther than their own borders; creating a mode of transportation was a foolish notion.

Ryderoux continued to pour over the ship. The manacles she wore looked huge on her human skin’s arms and clinked with her every move. A glance over her shoulder told her eight pirates armed and ready for a confrontation were only a few yards behind her. Her wandering eyes halted as she reached a section of the ship only a few yards from her. A group of human workers dressed much different than the others were easy to distinguish from the rest. Up until now, the humans had all been wearing a variety of clothing from baggy pants to vests and long-sleeve billowing shirts. This group was all wearing the same kind of clothes. Black and crimson uniforms clearly set them apart, although they worked side by side with the others.

As she looked them over, one of them caught her eye. He was tall with long, dark hair and the most piercing crystal blue eyes she had ever seen. It wasn’t the fact that he was staring at her; enough of those on board were doing so. It was the pure hate in his look that stopped Ryderoux in her tracks. A deep-found pain had twisted the man and transformed his feelings toward her into rage. She had seen the stare before. A mix of intrigue and fury filled her. With a commanding voice, she addressed him, “Do you know on whom you gaze, human? I am Ryderoux Firebound Wind—”

To her wonder and disbelief, he interrupted her, “Ryder-whatever-it-is, hear me well. Others here may fear you, and that is why you roam under guard, but know this: your kind are the reason my men are dead and I will exact my vengeance in blood.”

***

Stephen couldn’t believe his eyes. After what had just happened hours before, a dragon was chained on board their ship. The eight sizeable pirates shadowing her looked angry, yet unwilling to converse with the female monster. Stephen did not share their fear.

The molded mop Stephen was using to scrub the deck fell from his hands. His wrists were still shackled, however his legs were free. He stalked toward the dragon, Amil’s lifeless face still fresh in his thoughts.

Only feet from the beast, one of the pirates overseeing Stephen and his group intercepted the disgruntled Captain. “Easy there, lad. Back to work.” The pirate’s voice was firm without being angry. One look in the seedy pirate’s eyes and Stephen knew the man sympathized with him. “There’s nothing we can do until our Captain returns. There were orders left that if the dragon should surface, she is to be kept under lock and key; under guard, not killed.”

Stephen heard the words but they rang empty in his ears. He unclenched his jaw to speak. He looked over the pirate’s shoulder and stuck the dragon with a stare he hoped would chill her. Stephen disregarded the human form the dragon had decided to embody. In any other situation, her classic magnificence would have left him speechless; now, all that resided in Stephen’s heart was hate.

“I’ve been listening to the whispers aboard the ship. I realize it wasn’t you specifically who attacked us,” Stephen said, “but I also know that fight turned vicious when those dragons saw something on board this ship. They saw you, the stowaway who ran away from home. You used us to flee and the dragons refused to let you go. Do you know what that means, Ryder-whatever-your-name-is?”

The dragon shook her head, her eyes wide.

“That means the deaths of all these people are your responsibility. Their blood is on your hands. My friend died today, my men gave their lives today, because of you.”

Stephen was shaking. He had never been so upset. His moral compass was spinning in the aftermath of his own words. His logic struck a chord with more than a few of the remaining members of each crew. The pirate standing between he and the girl moved to the side, a look of understanding crossing his face. Others on board began circle around the two.

“Do you deny it, dragon?” Stephen continued, taking a step forward, “Do you deny that you used us? That we are nothing more to you than a means to an end?”