The Flame Dragon Read Free

since you’ve got nothing better to do than hack away at a wooden dragon …’
    Quinn stared up at him. ‘What are you talking about?’
    The guard swung back up onto his horse. ‘Welcome to the Black Guard, trainee.’
    ‘Good luck,’ Rowena sneered, as she spurred her horse. ‘A worm like you is going to need it.’

CHAPTER 2
THE HIDDEN TRUTH
    The next morning Quinn rolled out of bed, groaning.
    Every muscle in his body ached. His shoulders were so stiff he could hardly lift his arms. It felt as though one of the Floating Mountains had come crashing down in the night and flattened him. His hands were covered in blisters from where he’d swung his axe too hard.
    He pushed his dark hair away from his face and rubbed his eyes, feeling the early morning light wash over him. Suddenly the thought was upon him again: I’m being enrolled in the Guard. He reached into his shirt and pulled out the scroll the guard had thrown to him. He’d slept on it in the night and it had crumpled, but he recognised the seal of the Imperial Castle and Vayn’s flag with its black fist. No one would dare copy that.
    Quinn’s fingers trembled as he levered off the seal and unrolled the scroll once again:
    To the Commanders of the Twelve Garrisons of the Islands,
    His Imperial Highness, the Emperor Vayn, Ruler of Alariss, hereby commands all garrisons to recruit new forces. The Black Guard must be strengthened to ensure peace in our lands. The dragonblood menace must not be allowed to return!
    Below the message from the Emperor, in a different hand, a word from local Guard Leader Goric – well known and despised – summoned the recipient of the command to the Yaross Garrison.
    It was real. Quinn was going to be a Black Guard trainee, one of the Emperor’s elite, defending the realm just like he’d imagined. He would get the magical black armour and a real sword and travel the Twelve Islands from Nixia to Yaross.
    It was true that a lot of the guards Quinn had met were cruel bullies, and he’d heard some terrible stories about them whispered around the village. He knew first-hand about Goric and his quick fists – but he wouldn’t be like that. He wouldn’t treat ordinary people like dirt. He’d be working for the good of the Islands and the Emperor. And besides … who wanted to be a washer boy for the rest of their life?
    But now he realised that he would have to tell Aunt Marta, and a wave of sickness came over him. He’d avoided telling her the night before – the argument about the sheets had still hung in the air like a dark cloud – but he couldn’t delay any longer. Quinn was all she had, and he was supposed to report to the garrison that morning.
    He straightened up, forgetting his aches, andpulled aside the heavy curtain that separated his corner of the cottage from the living area.
    Marta was already up, hunched over a sheet in the firelight, neatly darning a hole in one of Quinn’s socks. She looked peaceful and calm, her greying hair bunched up on top of her head.
    She smiled up at him, all traces of yesterday’s argument gone. ‘You’re up early.’
    Quinn grinned weakly. ‘I couldn’t sleep.’
    ‘Well then, have some breakfast, nephew.’
    ‘I-I have something you need to see …’ he stuttered.
    ‘After you eat, Quinn,’ Marta replied.
    ‘No, Aunt. Now.’ He fumbled in his shirt and pulled out the scroll.
    Marta took it, frowning, and unrolled it in the light from the fire. As she slowly read the words, the colour drained from her face. She turned to Quinn, wide-eyed, desperate-looking, and clutched his arm weakly.
    ‘No …’
    Quinn stared back at her. No? How could she just say no?
    ‘I have to. The guards … It’s not a question, it’s an order!’ Quinn exclaimed, grabbing back the scroll and stuffing it into his shirt.
    ‘No! I can’t allow it!’ Marta cried, with a note of terror in her voice.
    Quinn took a step back. ‘But I thought you might be pleased. No more laundry work, no