Whisper Read Free

was I, both of us trapped in situations that we found deplorable, and my ability to communicate with him enabled us to form a fragile friendship. I chose him because he exhibited a high level of intelligence, and believed he would make more than a simple warrior. It is a long story, but in the end, Cyrus found he could stand it no more, and stole me away from Hathel in the night. The two of us escaped our Breken master, and neither of us ever looked back again.  
    “Cyrus was Breken?” Dearra said.
    “Even I didn’t know that,” Darius said. The implications of the revelation overwhelmed him; he was not alone. He was not the only Breken to have chosen to follow a different path, to have broken free of his heritage and gone a different way. That it had been only one other, and it had been a thousand years ago, made no difference.
    Dearra cocked her head in confusion. “What did you mean when you said you were forced to slaughter whole villages?” she said. “I mean, you’re just one sword, and you’re very impressive and everything, Brin, but isn’t it really the wielder who does the killing and not the sword?”
    This was treading on dangerous ground. Dearra was a headstrong girl. Sharing too much information with her could lead to trouble. Though it was best to be cautious where Dearra was concerned, he owed her at least some degree of honesty.
    Dragons all have innate physical and magical abilities. When I was trapped in this form, I kept some, and I lost others. One of the ones I kept was the ability to breathe fire.
    Dearra’s eyes grew wide with interest. “You can seriously breathe fire? How does that work?”
    Darius couldn’t hear everything Brin was thinking. When he chose to, the dragon could block Darius, but he sensed hesitation on the dragon’s part, and he mentally cautioned Brin. Darius didn’t want him to share anything that might put Dearra in any future danger.
    It isn’t really ‘breathing’ fire, Dearra, that’s kind of a misconception. It’s more of a consequence of a very complicated spell. It’s been so long since I’ve cast it, I’m not sure I even remember how it goes. It’s a long one, too. I’m afraid I’d bore you to tears if I tried to recite it.
    “Oh, come on, Brin, you remember. Tell me, please.”
    Brin saw enthusiasm for the subject shine in Dearra’s eyes. When she looked at him like that, it was near impossible to refuse her anything. How he could find himself at the mercy of such a little slip of a girl was annoying, to say the least. Tolah help him if she ever discovered how completely she had him wrapped around her little finger.
    “Dearra, I hate to interrupt,” Darius said, saving Brin from spilling all of his secrets and humiliating himself, “but I’m pretty sure dinner is almost ready, and I know they have prepared something special for your birthday. You don’t want to disappoint everyone and spoil the surprise, do you?”
    “Oh! I completely forgot!” Dearra jumped to her feet, but pulled up short when the pain from her burned leg, a lingering and permanent reminder of the ordeal she had suffered at the hands of Jacob only a few days ago, reasserted itself.
    Darius saw her wince, and he struggled to control the flash of loathing he felt. Though he would give almost anything to erase the mark that Jacob had branded into Dearra’s upper thigh, it did neither of them any good to dwell on the wound. Darius’s only hope was that the brand had not burned so deep as to leave a mark on her heart as well.
    ***
    Did you enjoy your birthday, Dearra? 
    “I suppose.”
    That doesn’t sound very convincing. What’s wrong?
    “Nothing, I guess. I just don’t feel...”
    It’s Jacob, isn’t it? It’s not as easy to let go of the past as you hoped it would be.
    A tear escaped from her eye and caught in her lashes. Her voice trembled when she spoke again. “He branded me, Brin. I feel as if it somehow defines me. As if I am forever marked as his