Dragon Tears
Read an excerpt from: The Journey Home
DRAGON
TEARS
Nancy Segovia
Praise for
Dragon Tears
Nancy Segovia paints the characters and setting for
Dragon Tears
with word pictures that take readers to worlds beyond…into the imagination. This book is one that adults will enjoy reading to their children to create special book memories. Then as the child grows into reading
Dragon Tears
independently, it will become a loved book in their personal library. A favorite line, spoken by a dragon is, “By my flame, there’s nothing wrong with being different.” What a message for our children to learn and appreciate. In today’s world, our children need to have books such as
Dragon Tears
in their reading repertoire that are uplifting and provide hope. --Joyce M. Gilmour (Teacher of third graders for thirty-six years and owner of Editing TLC.
Editing TLC
)
Dragon Tears
is a fun and exciting read for young people ages 10-15 that will give them action, humor and a fantasy world that is all too real. They will travel through a land of dragons, magicians, and evil wizards and learn that not only is it okay to be unique, but that they are more than capable of handling any obstacles the challenge of growing up can throw at them. Nancy Segovia is a talented author with a knack for writing young adult stories that any pre-teen or teen can identify with and enjoy. – Jody A. Kessler – RomCom Readers’ Crown Award Winning Author of
Death Lies Between Us
Jody A. Kessler
Other Works by Nancy Segovia
Fiction
Benjamin’s Bride as Nancy Marie
When You Wish Upon A Star as Nancy Marie
Non-Fiction
Shine: How to Walk the Talk
Buttercups for Jesus as Nancy Marie
All books available on Amazon at
Copyright
© 2014 by Nancy Segovia
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator:”
www.faithandreasonpublishing.com
ISBN- 13: 978-0692337059
ISBN – 10: 0692337059
First Printing 2014
Published by Faith and Reason Publishing.
www.faithandreasonpublising.com
Editor:
Joyce M. Gilmour
Editing TLC
Cover Design:
BookCoverMachine.Com
Formatted by:
Faith and Reason Publishing
E-book versions of this work are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition 2014
Dedication
Although I have five lovely, talented and intelligent daughters whom I love with all my heart, this book is dedicated to the youngest because she is the one that asked me to write it. So, this one is for you, Joy Segovia
Chapter One
“Can’t you do anything right? Try it again!”
Larkin took a deep breath, feeling it rumble way down in his chest, and exhaled as hard as he could. “Errup.”
“That sounded more like a burp than a roar.” Contempt and scorn filled the elder’s voice. “You are dismissed!”
A gray blush of embarrassment tinged the brightness of his green scales as the other students snickered at the little dragon. Larkin’s large, yellow eyes whirled with shame, and he blinked twice as if he could simply wash the embarrassment away. His wings trailed in the dirt behind him as he trudged back to his cave leaving a solitary trail in the dust. In addition to being disgraced in class, he would miss story time. He loved to listen to the elders as they talked about the White Dragon.
He took one last look at the bright sunshine and those basking in its warm rays and sighed. He only hoped his cave would be empty when he got there so he could curl up in a ball and try to forget this awful day.
It wasn’t. The brood mother greeted him, her eyes spinning with displeasure. She didn’t speak a word; she didn’t have to. Larkin could tell she was angry. The color of her eyes and the way the multi-faceted orbs spun made it impossible for her, or any other dragon, to hide
their
feelings. Their multi-colored eyes always mirrored their emotions. They spun, they whirled, they glittered, they sparkled, and they changed color, all depending upon their mood. If her eyes were red, she was angry; blue meant she was happy; yellow meant she was hungry and a rainbow of colors meant that she was feeling content.
“Dismissed again?” she asked. Only it wasn’t really a question. No one came back early from the council unless they had been asked to leave.
Larkin nodded.
“It’s a good thing he’s out on border patrol, otherwise the master might have a thing or two to say about this,” she said.
Larkin’s wings drooped even farther. The last lecture he got from the master had left his ears ringing and his scales dusty gray with shame. As the youngest and smallest dragon in the brood, he could never live up to his father’s expectations, no matter how hard he tried.
“What was it this time? You didn’t launch right? Or was it your inability to soar? Or maybe you couldn’t flame right?” Her sarcasm was as thick as the cave walls.
“I can’t roar,” Larkin answered.
He blinked several times, and the brood mother, seeing the threatened tears, jumped on him like a hungry bird on a beetle. “Don’t you dare cry! Phoenix Dragons don’t cry. Not ever!”
It didn’t look like he could hang his head any lower, but he managed to scrunch his long neck as close to his body as possible, making him look like a wound up jack-in-the-box. “Yes, ma’am,” he said.
“Until you are called back by the elders, you can spend your time in the mines. I’m going hunting.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Larkin tried to hide his relief at his punishment. Most dragons hated the mines, but Larkin found the caverns comforting, even if they were cold and damp. No one bothered him there. No one yelled at him for being too small, too clumsy, or too slow. And besides, in the back of the deepest, darkest mine he had found an opening, one that led to the world outside.
He turned toward the back tunnels, his footsteps heavy and slow, his mind wandering as his keen hearing focused on the sounds of the lessons still being taught in the outside arena.
“The amount of lift in your wings must equal the amount of your weight and the drag of your wings must equal their thrust.” He shrugged his shoulders as the lesson droned on. “I’ll never get that right either,” he thought, then shrugged again. “At least I’m not missing the stories about the White Dragon.”
Outside, away from the others, Larkin felt free. He didn’t have to try to be like anyone else. He could just be himself without the pressure of doing things he didn’t like to do or couldn’t do as well as the others. There was no one outside, behind the lair, to constantly be compared to, and he found peace just sitting and watching the world around him. He also was free to pursue his secret, the one he would never tell anyone.
∞
Patrik stumbled over the cabin’s threshold, spilling the load of kindling he carried. It scattered across the tile floor like marbles, clattering and clacking, and interrupting the cabin’s owner. He cringed at the noise, knowing his teacher would not let this disturbance pass. He bent to pick them up and heard footsteps coming toward him from the study.
He looked up and then down the narrow hallway. A shaft of light shone down the corridor as the lantern’s glow reflected off the highly polished logs. Each log fit atop the other as if they had been made that way. Patrik knew magic had built the cabin. The only thing he couldn’t understand was why the wizard had chosen to build such a small, primitive cabin instead of one of the palatial homes the other wizards favored.
Patrik lowered his gaze and scrambled to pick up the scattered kindling. The wizard’s voice, sharp and demanding, halted him in mid-step.
“What do you think you are doing? Use your magic, boy! How many times do I have to remind you?” The wizard stood in the kitchen doorway, his hands on his hips.
Patrik looked up at his teacher, frowned in frustration, and straightened up. “I have no magic,” he said at last. “You know that.”
“All people have magic. You just haven’t learned to use yours yet. You don’t apply yourself hard enough. Now, boy, pick it up using your power.”
The apprentice stood as rigid as one of the long-pole pines outside the door. He squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated as hard as he could. In his mind, he saw the kindling gather itself together to form a neat bundle. He visualized it rising up to fill his outstretched arms. He focused his thoughts on making the wood move toward him. Finally, he opened his eyes and blew out a deep breath between his pursed lips. Not a stick had moved. “I told you, I have no magic. Why don’t you believe me?”
The wizard sighed, his frustration as obvious as Patrik’s. “And how many times do I have to tell you: all people have magic. They have it in order to fight the dragons. You, especially, should have the power.” He paused, his poor eyesight causing him to squint at the boy as if seeing him for the first time. His eyes were as dark and hard as a predator on the hunt as he rounded on Patrik in frustration.
“I could understand it if you were the son of some soldier or baker whose parents only had enough magic to light fires on occasion. But you’re not. Your parents are Magicians of the First Order, and your gifting should be as strong as theirs.”
Wizard Allard shook his finger in Patrik’s face. “Without magic, people would disappear from the world. Do you want to become a dragon’s next meal? Is that what you want boy?”
Patrik took a step away from the wizard’s angry hand and shook his head. No, he didn’t want to end up in some dragon’s stomach. But he knew, deep down inside of him, that he had no magic. Patrik had known he was different for as long as he could remember. He was sure his parents had known it too. After all, other babies just thought about what they wanted, and it flew to them. Patrik had always had to reach out and grab for it. Other children didn’t walk to where they wanted to go; they transported themselves from room to room. And other young adults didn’t feel sorry for the dragons that died in the long-standing war between the species.
But Patrik did. They were so beautiful, so majestic with wings so powerful they created small dust storms as they lifted off the ground. Patrik often found himself wishing he’d been born a dragon instead of a human. That way he could just fly away from all the things that made him different from the others.
“I want you to spend the afternoon practicing your magic,” the wizard said, interrupting Patrik’s thoughts. “I expect every single twig picked up by suppertime or you’ll get no dinner. And, you are to do it by using your magic!”
Patrik nodded, hiding his dismay. It wasn’t the first time he would go to bed without supper, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last.