Dragon Tears Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Praise for Dragon Tears

  Other Works by Nancy Segovia

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  Extras

  Read an excerpt from: The Journey Home

  About the Author

  On The Back Cover

  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

  Nancy Segovia’s Amazon Page

  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.

  ∞

  Larkin looked around the cavern walls and would have smiled, but since dragons don’t have lips, it was impossible. Instead, his eyes whirled like a kaleidoscope showing his pleasure and contentment. Emeralds, diamonds, rubies, and other precious stones glittered like pieces of rainbows on the walls. Since he was a green dragon, emeralds were not only his favorite, but also his responsibility, as he was tasked with mining them. All dragons mined their matching jewels, and all dragons lined their dens with stones that matched their color. All dragons except Larkin, that is. The stones were given out as rewards, and so far, the little green dragon hadn’t done anything to deserve one. His cave was cold and dark, unlike the caves of the older dragons whose walls were so lined with sparkling gems that they shone like a king’s crown.

  “If only I could do something right, maybe I would earn some stones for my walls,” he muttered, as he stretched out his front leg and raked his claws against the cavern wall. Rocks, dirt, and jewels tumbled to his feet and with the daintiness of a picky eater, he used his snout to separate out the emeralds. He repeated the process until he had a large pile of the stones at his feet. Sitting back on his haunches, he surveyed his work. Satisfied with the results, he turned and headed farther into the cavern’s darkness.

  The walls narrowed in on him. If he’d been any larger, he wouldn’t have been able to pass through the opening. He reached a point where the walls almost seemed to touch, his scales scraping against the sides.

  His head poked out of the passage first, and a glimmer of light met him. He snapped his eyes shut against its brilliance, and he stumbled out into the open air. This was his secret passageway. For once, being the smallest dragon in the brood had its advantages, for no one else was small enough to fit through the passage behind him. He lumbered out onto a ledge and stretched out his wings, letting the bright afternoon sun shine down on him. After the damp chill of the mines, it felt as if he had just curled up in front of a warm fire.

  A deep sigh of contentment escaped him as he rejoiced in his freedom.

  “The sun feels so good, so good, so good,” he sang to himself, forgetting his humiliation and shame and soaking in the warming, cheerful sunlight.

  Larkin was free for the rest of the afternoon. No one would come looking for him until sunset, when the dragons gathered to sing in the moonlight. It was mandatory for all dragons to greet both moonrise and sunrise, their voices raised to the heavens in a song only they understood.

  The noise was a mismatched cacophony of sound, and the little dragon wondered if the humans heard it. He thought a lot about humans. Too much so, said his brood mother. She believed that all humans were magic users.

  “Only the White Dragon has the right to use magic,” she had said. “For humans to use it goes against all natural laws. It is evil to do so and that makes them evil as well.”

  He rested his chin on his front foreleg, thinking. He wasn’t sure what magic was, or what it did. He didn’t know what she meant by the natural order of things, either. He did know that humans were the cause of most of the dragons’ problems, or so the elders said, but what those problems were he didn’t know. It seemed there was much he didn’t know, and much he wanted to learn. “By my scales,” he mumbled, “I wouldn’t even recognize a human if I saw one.”

  He raised his head, his keen eyes searching the valley floor beneath him. Time to eat soon, I’d
best get to it before someone sees me.

  ∞

  Patrik stared at the scattered kindling and frowned. His blue eyes narrowed, and he ran a hand through his light brown hair, ruffling it as if that would help him think. The task Wizard Allard had set for him was impossible. He knew that, and rather than waste the afternoon trying to do the impossible, he turned his back on it and walked out the door.

  His teacher would be locked in his study until sunset, when his failing eyesight would demand that he quit for the day. Since no one, absolutely no one, was supposed to disturb him while he practiced his magic, Patrik was free to pursue his own interests. And there was only one thing that Patrik had any interest in: dragons.

  The wizard’s cabin sat on the edge of the borderlands, those lands that neither human nor dragon could claim as their own. A serene valley stretched before him. To the west of the valley, the craggy mountains rose, their jagged peaks hiding the dragon caves. To the east stretched the flat, lowlands filled with human farms and towns. Patrik had no interest in the meadows behind him. He searched the west, hoping to get at least one glimpse of the dragons as they patrolled the borderlands. He’d been told that he should be afraid of the dragons, but even though they were fearsome to some, his fascination overcame his fears.

  He walked down the slope toward the meadow. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he’d had no lunch. Reaching the river, the thought of fishing for his dinner briefly crossed his mind, but he rejected the idea almost immediately. He didn’t have a pole, and even if he caught one, he had no way to cook it, and he couldn’t bring the fish back with him. All he needed was for the wizard to find out what he had really been doing all afternoon.

  Patrik’s stomach growled again, motivating him into action. He began searching the riverbank for bumbleberries and watercress. He sighed, knowing it was too early in the season for the nut trees to have ripe nuts. He’d have to appease his hunger with berries and greens, for there was no way to sneak back to the cabin for lunch. Even though the wizard’s eyesight was failing, his hearing was as keen as a cat’s. He’d hear Patrik the minute he stepped into the kitchen, and since he was not getting any dinner tonight, the boy knew he’d best do a good job of filling his stomach now while the wizard was occupied with his studies