Broken by Magic: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (Dragon Gate Book 3)

  Broken by Magic

  Dragon Gate, Book 3

  Lindsay Buroker

  Copyright © 2021 by Lindsay Buroker

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you, good reader, for following along with my epic fantasy series. I suspect you’ve been waiting for some fun dragons to show up (not only those crusty predatorial dragons), so I hope you’ll enjoy meeting the hatchling.

  Before you jump in, please let me thank my editor, Shelley Holloway, and my beta readers, Sarah Engelke and Cindy Wilkinson, for sticking with me for these long manuscripts. Also, thanks to Jeff Brown for the cover art and map for this series.

  Now, I hope you enjoy the new adventure…

  1

  Jakstor Freedar frowned as his charge ignored the plate of fish, curassow, and pokran meat he’d finagled from the yacht’s kitchen. Instead, the dragon hatchling prowled around the bed, burrowing under the blankets and tackling the already ravaged pillow, determined to transfer the stuffing from the inside to the outside.

  It had been three days since the hatchling emerged from his egg, amid a disgusting mess of shell, amniotic fluid, and whatever those sparkly magical dots had been. The dragon hadn’t eaten since.

  “Babies are supposed to be hungry all the time.” Jak waved a piece of red meat in front of the creature’s snout. “Especially big babies.”

  The hatchling wasn’t as large as Jak had expected, given the size and heft of the egg he had carried back through the portal. He’d come out about the size of the parrots squawking in the jungle trees outside his porthole. He had scales instead of feathers, rich blue scales that were neither the mottled brown and gray of the dragon that had tried to kill their party on the other world, nor the iridescent blue of the frolicking dragons that the portal had shown Jak in visions.

  Would this hatchling grow into a friendly dragon, such as those who had long ago worked with humans when they’d visited Torvil? Or would he turn into an evil dragon that killed others of his kind and slew humans for sport—and dinner?

  The scaly snout sniffed at the meat as slitted yellow eyes peered up at Jak. At a glance, they looked like the alien reptilian eyes of a snake or lizard, but there was a curiosity and expressiveness in them more akin to a human’s. And intelligence, Jak thought, for he’d caught the hatchling watching him while he worked on his latest map, peering both at his writing utensils and what he was creating.

  At first, Jak thought the hatchling might somehow recognize the world he’d been drawing—after all, it was the frozen snow-and-ice-covered realm where they’d found the egg, locked up in a glacier with dozens of others. Then he’d eaten a charcoal stick and used his tail to flick a pencil across the cabin. It was possible he’d only been considering what on the desk would be the most fun to destroy.

  “Do you want me to chew it first? Mother wolves do that for their pups.” Jak tossed the gamey pokran in his mouth to soften it. “Actually, they chew the meat, swallow it, and regurgitate it when they get back to their dens, but that’s not within my repertoire.” He drew out the macerated pokran meat and offered it again. “I also think vomitus may be forbidden on a fancy flying yacht owned by a wizard king. Given how readily they punish the servants, I would rather not take chances.”

  Jak eyed the open door that led into the parlor of the suite that he and his mother had been given and used his burgeoning magical senses to make sure there weren’t any crewmen nearby to hear and judge him. Hypothetically, he was a guest here, and King Uthari hadn’t punished him or his mother, but they also didn’t have the freedom to leave or even wander about the ship without an escort. Just that morning, guards had come in to take his mother down to one of the tents set up around the portal so she could do some research. Jak didn’t know what sort of research yet, nor did he know if she would return to the yacht.

  The hatchling took the meat from his hand, and hope stirred in Jak. Since the creature had hatched, he’d been worried that he didn’t have the means to care for it. He’d tried milk, even though Mother had assured him that reptiles did not nurse their young, as well as various kinds of meat. He’d even tried slices of fruit and bamboo in case dragons had a vegetarian streak the history books hadn’t warned them about. Nothing interested his charge.

  The hatchling shook his head on his long neck and released the macerated meat. It flew across the cabin, hit the porthole, and stuck to the glass.

  The creature jumped up and down, little wings flapping—thus far, they lacked the power to let him fly—and emitted squawky noises that sounded like a temper tantrum.

  “It’s not my fault you don’t like anything here.” Jak rubbed his face. Maybe dragons could only eat meat from their homeland. “I’m sorry I didn’t think to carve steaks out of those ugly bat creatures that attacked us on… whatever that world is called. We don’t even know.”

  Though a knock didn’t sound at the door, Jak sensed someone powerful entering the suite. He stood and turned, hoping for Malek, but General Tonovan was the one to appear in the doorway.

  Jak’s gut twisted with revulsion. Not only had the odious general leered at Jak’s mother and made sexual comments about her, but he’d been in the process of raping Rookie Tezi when Malek had distracted him so she’d been able to escape—by springing over the railing of a mageship to what she had believed would be her death.

  Though Jak wanted to strangle Tonovan, he radiated almost as much power as Malek. Jak had no doubt that the general could flick a finger and kill him. He kept his face—and his thoughts—blank as Tonovan glowered at him, a gesture more menacing than ever now that he had only one eye.

  “Professor Freedar isn’t here? How disappointing. I know how she enjoys chatting with me.” Tonovan’s lips twisted into something between a smirk and a sneer, like one of the melodramatic villains in an Egarath the Eternal play. Davroloth the Dark, perhaps.

  “Yes,” Jak said, “she pines at night when you’re not here to entertain her with lewd innuendos.”

  “I’d entertain her with a lot more than that if I weren’t busy.” Tonovan waved toward the porthole and the mageships outside, a dozen belonging to King Uthari and a dozen more that had been sent by other kingdoms. They also hoped to use the newly operational ancient portal to travel to other worlds.

  Jak clenched his jaw and kept from responding, not wanting the man to have a reason to stay. Why had he come, anyway? And why did he want to harass Mother? She was in her early forties, and from what Jak had heard, Tonovan preferred to molest women even younger than Jak.

  “Because it irritates Malek.” Tonovan smirked again, though there was no humor in his remaining eye. “And she’s not bad looking for an older woman. Still firm and soft in all the right places.” He groped suggestively in the air.

  Raw rage flared in Jak, and he balled his fists and envisioned himself springing across the cabin and throttling Tonovan. He should have been trying to guard his thoughts from the mind-reading general, but he was too furious to concentrate on that.

  “Go ahead, boy. I don’t know why Uthari and Malek want to let you live, but Uthari wouldn’t punish me for defending myself against a reckless wild one.” Tonovan’s eye narrowed. “I’d enjoy killing you, for the same reason I’d enjoy screwing your mother.”

  Jak couldn’t control his rage. He snarled and leaped at
the general. Even as he tried to wrap his hands around Tonovan’s neck, he sensed a magical barrier pop up between them. Jak willed a mountain to fall on it, a fierce wind to tear it away.

  Thus far, he’d had some luck performing magical feats, using nothing but sheer willpower, but not this time. Not against this experienced and powerful wizard.

  He smashed face-first into the barrier and bounced away. A crushing weight slammed onto him from above, and Tonovan’s power drove him to the deck. It was as if a mountain had landed on him, and he couldn’t budge. Invisible fingers wrapped around his throat, cutting off his air.

  Idiot, Jak told himself. You stupid idiot.

  Tonovan chuckled as he applied more force around Jak’s throat. He hadn’t budged, not so much as lifting a finger, and used only his magic. “To kill you, or not to kill you? It was clear I was only defending myself, wasn’t it? There’s even a witness, assuming one can read the mind of a scrawny dragon hatchling.”

  Jak couldn’t move, couldn’t suck in air to reply, nor to replenish his lungs. They ached in his chest, already longing for oxygen.

  The hatchling jumped up and down on the bed, wings flapping. Whether he was complaining about this assault or that his food was unacceptable, Jak didn’t know, but the realization that he might not live to find out terrified him.

  Again, he tried to draw upon his own power—everyone kept saying he had great potential, so it ought to be good for something. He envisioned himself within a ring of mountains—the Impact Mountains once formed by an asteroid strike in Northern Agorval—with their tall peaks separating him from Tonovan, driving the general back, forcing him away.

  It didn’t work. Not against this foe.

  Malek? Jak thought telepathically, trying to pinpoint-deliver the message so Tonovan wouldn’t hear him. I did something stupid, and if you’re on the yacht, I could use some help.

  The hatchling leaped down from the bed and half walked and half hopped past Jak toward Tonovan.

  “This is the mighty dragon, eh?” Tonovan drawled, eyeing him even as he kept Jak pinned, maintaining enough pressure around his throat to prevent him from breathing. “It doesn’t look like much. How funny to think that primitive people turned a dragon into a god. Shylezar the Great. What a farce. Terrene humans are easily manipulated simpletons.”

  Jak’s rapid heartbeat pounded against his eardrums, and darkness crept into his vision. He would pass out and die at this man’s feet, and the bastard wouldn’t care one iota.

  “Let him go,” came a voice from the parlor.

  The pressure around Jak’s throat and the weight pinning him to the deck disappeared in an instant. He gasped in air and rolled away from Tonovan as the general turned to face Malek.

  Even though he didn’t lower his barrier—if anything, Jak sensed Tonovan strengthening it at Malek’s approach—the hatchling somehow hopped through it.

  From his position gasping on the deck, Jak had a perfect view of the creature springing in and biting Tonovan on the back of the calf. Tiny sharp teeth gnashed through the red material of his uniform trousers.

  Tonovan yelped and kicked the hatchling away.

  Swearing, Jak lunged to his feet as his charge flew across the cabin. The hatchling smashed against a wall, then bounced onto the bed.

  Jak almost blacked out, his body still struggling to recover from the lack of oxygen, but he scrambled onto the bed, terrified the little dragon’s bones might have broken. He was just a baby and who knew how fragile. Jak swept in and gathered the hatchling in his arms, cradling him to his chest. Dazed, the creature only gurgled slightly.

  “What are you doing in here?” Malek asked from the doorway, glaring at Tonovan, though he glanced at Jak and the hatchling.

  “I came to see what popped out of that egg.” Tonovan lifted his leg and rubbed his calf, but he didn’t comment on the attack—or the fact that the hatchling had somehow slipped through his barrier as if it didn’t exist. “Your teenage prodigy attacked me, so naturally, I had to defend myself.”

  Jak’s neck throbbed, as if real hands had been wrapped around it, and he wondered if he would have bruises later. He was more concerned about the hatchling and wished he knew how to tell if any of his bones were broken or if he was only dazed.

  “Which of the women he cares about did you threaten to rape?” Malek asked coolly.

  Tonovan smirked and put his leg down. Alas, he wasn’t limping. “His mother, but I wouldn’t need to use force on her. She would enjoy wrapping her mouth around my fat—”

  Tonovan jerked back, as if he’d been slapped.

  Malek hadn’t moved, but his dark eyes were as hard as obsidian, and Jak had sensed the attack, a mental jab that could strike even through a mage’s barrier. Sadly, Malek didn’t follow it up with another attack or try to kill Tonovan. Jak would have gladly helped, even if all he could do was shout at the general and distract him.

  “You sure you want to threaten me, Malek?” Tonovan said with ice in his voice. “When you’re recovering from near-death wounds and aren’t at your strongest?”

  “I’ll duel you any time you wish.” Malek pointed upward, as if to suggest they should challenge each other on the open deck of the yacht. “And I’ve recovered nicely from my wounds. They won’t impede me.”

  “I’m so happy to hear that.” Tonovan didn’t move toward the corridor or give any indication that he would accept the challenge. “Uthari would be so saddened by your loss. He wouldn’t have anyone left who’s as eager to kiss his ass.”

  “You’ve seen the hatchling. Get out.” Magical power laced Malek’s voice, and when he stepped aside to clear the way to the exit, Tonovan lurched forward, taking two steps before clenching his jaw and visibly stopping himself.

  But it was only for a moment. He glared back at Jak—and the hatchling—then strode toward the exit.

  “See to it that you get your trousers mended,” Malek added. “Something has frayed them.”

  Not responding, Tonovan walked out, slamming the door behind him like a petulant child.

  Jak slumped against the wall, his body aching after the encounter. The hatchling chirped in his arms, then nibbled on the cuff of his sleeve.

  “I know you’re hungry,” Jak whispered. “Just tell me what you like.”

  Malek stepped into the bedroom, wearing his usual tan trousers, beige shirt, and brown jacket, his main-gauche and basket-hilted longsword in their scabbards on his weapons belt. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry you had to come, but thank you. I made an unwise decision.” Jak grimaced and rubbed his neck.

  “Tonovan likes to goad his enemies into doing that.” Malek pointed at the hatchling. “Is it all right?”

  “I think so.”

  The hatchling had recovered from being stunned and was trying to climb up Jak’s arm to his shoulder.

  “Hopefully, he’s tough. He’s so magical, even as a baby, I think he’d have to be.” Jak had been able to sense the magic of the dragon eggs when they’d been encased in ice, and the hatchling’s aura was even more noticeable now. “But he hasn’t eaten anything since he hatched. I’m worried that the food on our world doesn’t agree with him.”

  Jak pointed at the plate of delicacies, then at the piece still stuck to the porthole glass. A couple of flies had arrived in the cabin and were buzzing around it. Jak made a note to clean the macerated meat off the glass. If there were rules about vomiting on yachts, there were probably rules about leaving half-chewed pieces of pokran sticking to things.

  “You still need to work on guarding your thoughts around mages,” Malek observed.

  “Sorry. I wasn’t trying.”

  “Your mental barrier should become habitual, something you keep up during all of your waking hours. So that enemies don’t know if they’re successfully goading you to anger and nearby allies aren’t afflicted with imagery of you regurgitating food to your hatchling.”

  “I didn’t do that. I was just thinking about i
t. Wolves do it, and dragons are predators, so…” Jak shrugged, a little embarrassed, but if Malek poked into his mind, he couldn’t truly be offended by what he found. It had to be better than what was in Tonovan’s mind.

  “No doubt about that.” Malek stepped closer, peering at Jak’s charge. Since he’d been recovering from his wounds, he hadn’t been by to see the hatchling yet, and he had to be curious. It sounded like the word had gotten out. Everybody might be curious.

  Jak could handle visitors, as long as they weren’t vile like Tonovan, but he worried someone would want to take the dragon to raise and turn into a trained killer. Uthari had said Jak could watch over the hatchling, providing Jak and his mother obeyed Uthari and did all that he wished, but he wasn’t the only powerful mage here. And then there were the druids in the jungle. What if one of them sneaked aboard and kidnapped the hatchling while Jak slept?

  “Are you sure it’s a he?” Malek asked. “It doesn’t look like it has recognizable sex organs.”

  “Mother thinks so, but she admitted it would be hard to know for sure unless we had a female for comparison. Apparently, there isn’t a lot of surviving information on how to sex baby dragons.”

  “I’ll hazard a guess that there was never a lot of information on that.”

  “Possibly true. She’s going by how one tells on lizards.”

  Malek arched his eyebrows. “And how is that?”

  “Males are more swollen at the base of their tails than females, and they have a pair of enlarged scales near their cloaca.” Jak, not certain how familiar Malek was with lizards, lifted the hatchling so he could see the underbelly. The dragon’s tail whipped back and forth in the air, and he tried to spring to the porthole. In case he had developed a new interest in the meat now that it had aired out, Jak lifted him to the ledge. “Apparently, there are behavioral clues too. The males tend to be more aggressive. This one likes to throw temper tantrums and destroy the pillow.”