Deserter, p.

Home Series
onlinereadfreenovel.com
Archive
Built-in Search
Books By Popularity
Home » Tui T. Sutherland » Deserter
Romance & Love
Fantasy
Science Fiction
Mystery & Detective
Thrillers & Crime
Actions & Adventure Deserter, p.3
History & Fiction
Horror Tui T. Sutherland Submit
Western
Humor

show page numbers

He was there for the councils and arguments and

trials that followed, everyone fighting over who
should be the next queen and how it should be
decided. He was in the palace the night that Blister
took off with half the army, and he was there the
night Blaze escaped and fled north with a squadron
of loyal guards. In fact, both times he was
approached by friends and fellow soldiers, asking
him to join them in supporting the dragon they
wanted to be queen.

But he said no. His mother had decided to be loyal

to Burn, so he was going to do the same thing. He
didn’t like Burn … but he liked her sisters much
less. Burn, at least, would be a strong queen, unlike
Blaze, and a queen with no secret malevolent plans,
which was more than he could say for Blister.

It turned out, though, that there was one thing

Burn loved more than mutilating animals, and that
was war. When she heard that Blister was
negotiating alliances with the SeaWings and
MudWings, intending to bring their armies with
her to fight for the SandWing throne, Burn was
horribly delighted. As she said to General Needle,
in Six-Claws’s presence, two sisters out there
lurking and scheming was just annoying — but
armies coming to attack her, that she could handle.
That meant violence and mayhem and fun.

She sent Prince Smolder to the Sky Kingdom

immediately to forge an alliance with their queen,
Scarlet. She also tried to contact the IceWings,
which was how she discovered that they were
protecting Blaze and considering joining the new
war themselves.

“I hope they do!” Burn cried gleefully, storming

through the construction going on outside the
palace. Queen Oasis had been buried where she fell,
and a monument was raised over her grave. Burn
had ordered another layer of thick walls built all
around the outside, beyond the monument, turning
the palace into an unassailable stronghold. “More
dragons to fight! More territory to conquer! We’ll
crush them all in a matter of weeks!”

It wasn’t a matter of weeks. The war dragged on,

and on, and on for years, and in that time Six-Claws
saw his mother and way too many of his friends die
in battle, and he fought way too many faces he had
once considered brothers-in-arms.

But he kept fighting. He did as he was ordered. He

was promoted, and then promoted again, until he
became General Six-Claws. He stayed loyal to
Queen Burn, because loyalty ran deep in his blood
… and because he didn’t see any other choice.

It was getting harder, though. When Burn had her

brother Singe killed for, as far as Six-Claws could
tell, “annoying her,” he felt his soul sinking further
into despair.

What kind of dragon was he following?

He couldn’t imagine describing her good qualities,

the way he had once been able to list all the things
that were great about Queen Oasis. He was having
a hard time coming up with even one, these days.

One night about two weeks after Singe’s death,

Six-Claws flew back to camp with his battalion after
a particularly crushing battle with the IceWings in
which he’d lost four good dragons.

And more than that, perhaps even worse: Dune

had been badly injured. Dune, the one dragon who
had stayed by his side and survived all these years.
One of his forearms had been bitten nearly in two
and his wing had been hit by a blast of frostbreath.
Six-Claws hoped there was still time to reverse the
damage and heal his friend. He helped carry Dune
all the way back from the battle site.

They’d set up their small city of tents not far from

where the desert shifted into rocky hills, then
tundra and the Ice Kingdom. Technically the rocky
terrain was part of the Kingdom of Sand, so he
could have made camp even closer to the IceWing
border. But his dragons needed to sleep on sand
and return to the desert at night for their morale. If
he’d forced them farther north, they might have
had shorter flights to their battles, but they would
have been cold and miserable and tired, and it
would have been too easy to wear them down.

He didn’t like wasting dragons.

“You’ll be all right, Dune,” he whispered in his

friend’s ear as they flew. “We’re almost there.
They’ll fix you and you’ll be flying again in no time.
Just hang on.”

They landed beside the medical tent in the center

of camp, and three dragons immediately emerged,
clustering around Dune.

“He needs heat on that wound, and fast,” Six-

Claws said, pointing to the glistening ice crystals
and blue-black scales along the edge of Dune’s
wing. “Do everything you can for him.”
 “Of course, sir,” one of them answered.

“He might lose the foot,” said another, studying

Dune’s damaged foreleg, “but he needs his wings
more. We can save those.”

“Yes, we can heal injuries like this, sir,” said the

last one, indicating the frostbreath gently. “We’ve
done it before. It’s not too bad.”

“Thank you,” said Six-Claws. They whisked Dune

away into the tent.

Six-Claws wanted to follow, but he couldn’t. There

was too much to do. Dragons he had to see and
dispatches he needed to read and —

He turned around and found Queen Burn looming

behind him.

“Your Majesty,” he said with a bow.

“Still alive,” she commented.

“Me?” he said. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“Show me your claws again,” she ordered.

He forced himself not to sigh. This happened

every time he saw her; he should be over how sick
and uncomfortable it made him feel. He held out
his front talons.

“Yessss,” Burn hissed, taking them in hers and

staring at them greedily. She tugged on his sixth
claw on each side and eyed his face to see if he’d
react. He kept his expression blank.

“Your soldiers remember their orders, do they?”

Burn said. “When you die in battle, they know they
are to cut off your arms and bring them to me.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said. It took all his

considerable training to keep still instead of
yanking his talons away from her. “They know.
They won’t forget.” How could they forget a
gruesome order like that? Everyone knew exactly
what she wanted to do with Six-Claws’s talons. One
day, when he died, she would happily dismember
him and preserve his odd-looking claws in her
creepy weirdling tower, along with all the other
strange and horrible things she’d collected over the
years.

Burn finally dropped his talons with a snort.

“Well, as long as you’re still alive, you’d better make
yourself useful. We’re going to attack the
MudWings. Pack everyone up. We move out
tomorrow.”

“What?” Six-Claws blurted.

“Don’t disappoint me by being deaf and slow as

well,” she growled. “The MudWings. We’re
attacking them. As soon as possible.” She chuckled.
“My spies tell me there’s been a rift between the
SeaWings and the MudWings. Blister’s alliance is
falling apart. This is the time to attack! If we strike
now, we can intimidate the MudWings into joining
our side. Then we’ll be unstoppable.”

“But wait,” Six-Claws said. “What about our plan?

The whole strategy we worked out?”

“Your plan, you mean,” said Burn. “I know, I

know. Focus our energy here until we find Blaze
and kill her, so we only have one enemy instead of
two.” She yawned. “Boring. You haven’t found
Blaze yet and I hate waiting.”

“We’ve only been looking for a few weeks,” Six-

Claws protested. “They’re fighting hard to keep her
hidden. I’m sure today’s battle was close to her
hiding spot.”

He’d never admitted his secret hope, of course.

What he really wanted was for one sister to die so
the other two could fight it out — just the two of
them in a regular duel, with no armies or soldiers
or other tribes or innocent bystanders dragged into
the mess. He wanted this to be over.

And for that, his strategy made the most sense. If

they kept pounding away at Blaze’s IceWing
alliance, surely they would find her soon.
 “You know,” Burn sneered, “if you want Blaze
dead so badly, perhaps you shouldn’t have saved
her life all those years ago.” She flicked her tail at
the shouts of pain coming from the medical tent.
“Maybe all of this is your fault.”

Six-Claws clenched his talons, trying not to reveal

that he’d had that exact thought himself
over several sleepless nights.

“Your Majesty,” he said as calmly as he could. “I

strongly believe that we should stick with our
current strategy.”

“Well, I strongly believe that we should go kill

some MudWings,” she said. “And I am your queen,
so that means I always win.”

“Can we discuss this?” he asked. He didn’t want to

sound as though he was begging, but maybe that
was what she wanted him to do. “I can show you
the maps — our deductions — our next steps — we
have it all worked out.”

“You disloyal worm,” Burn snarled. “I can see you

need a little extra persuasion.” She pushed past him
and shoved her way into the medical tent.

He started to follow her, but suddenly there was a

hiss from the shadows beside the tent.
 “Who’s there?” he said, pausing. It was impossible
to see past the light of the torches, but he could tell
there was a dragon hiding in the dark.

A pause, and then an unfamiliar voice said,

“Someone with your best interests at heart.”

“Show yourself,” Six-Claws ordered. Perhaps it

could be one of his soldiers, but he thought he’d
recognize all their voices. Was it someone sent by
one of Burn’s sisters to attack her?

If so, it was bad, it was very, very bad that a part of

him was tempted not to stop them.

“You don’t have to follow Burn,” whispered the

voice. “She doesn’t deserve it.”

“Who should I follow instead?” Six-Claws asked. “I

suppose you have someone in mind. Blister?”

“Dear snakes, no,” said the hidden dragon, with

what sounded like genuine amusement. “Why
follow any of them? There’s always the Scorpion
Den, right? Plenty of SandWings there who don’t
fight for anyone. From what I’ve heard anyhow.”

“Deserters,” Six-Claws said. “That’s not me. I’m

loyal.”

“Loyal to what?” asked the dragon. “Do you even

know why you follow her anymore? She’s not a
good queen. You are helping a viper and making
her stronger and more poisonous. Can’t you see
that?” He paused. “If you can’t, you will soon, I’m
afraid.”

“SIX-CLAWS!” Burn roared from inside the tent.

“Get in here!”

“Think about it,” the dragon in the shadows

whispered, and then he seemed to melt away, and
when Six-Claws blinked, there was no one there at
all.

He pushed through the flaps into the tent and

found Burn standing over Dune.

Six-Claws’s friend was lying on a low pile of

blankets, unconscious, with his wings spread out
on either side of him. Sacks filled with fire-heated
stones were packed around the frostbreath injury
on his wing and also around his front leg. Here, in
the torchlight, Six-Claws could see the wounds
more clearly, and he saw that an IceWing must
have raked Dune with her serrated claws as well.

But his wing would heal and he would fly again.

The doctors said they could fix him. He’d be all
right.

“This is the little toad who follows you around,

isn’t it?” Burn asked. She jabbed one of the hot
stone bags so it slid off Dune’s wing.
 Six-Claws started forward. “He needs that —”

“Don’t move,” Burn snarled. She pushed another

healing pack off the injured dragon, and Dune
made a small noise of pain, but didn’t wake up.
Behind Burn, one of the doctors was wringing her
talons like she wanted to intervene but didn’t dare.

“Please. Don’t hurt him,” Six-Claws said, his

stomach twisting. “He’s a loyal soldier to you.”

“And what are you?” Burn demanded. “Tell me,

where are we going tomorrow?”

Six-Claws hesitated. He felt as if there was a

possible end to this war slipping right between his
talons. “I’ll do what you say, Your Majesty. I will.
But if I could have just one more day to look for
Blaze —”

Burn slammed her talons down on Dune’s injured

wing. Dune came awake screaming as the frozen
parts snapped off completely, leaving only
misshapen, blackened ruin. Burn sliced her claws
through the tendons and membranes, destroying
what was left of the wing.

“No!” Six-Claws heard himself shouting, felt

himself tackled by the other SandWings in the tent
as he lunged toward the queen.
 “Unquestioning obedience,” Burn said to him.
“That’s really all I ask.” She kicked Dune aside and
shook the blood off her claws. “So, General. Where
are we going tomorrow?”

There were at least three dragons pinning him

down. Six-Claws took a deep breath, forcing away
his guilt and fury and disbelief. “The Mud
Kingdom,” he said into the ground.

“Much better.” Burn stepped over him, nearly

smacking him in the face with her deadly tail.
“You’re lucky you’re such a useful general, or I
would just take those fascinating talons for my
tower and be done with these boring arguments.
Oh, and Six-Claws.” She stopped in the opening of
the tent and looked back at him. “The next time you
feel like questioning my orders, remember that
your friend there has another wing … and a tail …
and three working legs, all of which could meet
with even more horrible accidents. Understood?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Six-Claws couldn’t look at

her. He kept his eyes closed and his face in the sand
until he heard her leaving the tent and her heavy
footsteps treading away.

“We’re sorry, sir,” said one of the nurses, climbing

off him. “We didn’t want her to kill you.”

“I understand,” he said as they all let go and

backed away nervously. He staggered to his feet
and over to Dune, who had mercifully passed out
again. His wing was a wreck, far beyond saving, and
his foreleg was a bloody stump. Six-Claws knelt
beside him and gently touched Dune’s head. “Is
there anything you can do for him?” he asked the
other dragons.

They tried. He could see how hard they were

trying. He didn’t leave Dune’s side as they
bandaged and swabbed and did what they could.
His other duties had all faded into a blur in the
back of his mind.

The Scorpion Den.

You are helping a viper.

Think about it.

“It’s getting late, sir.” One of the doctors brushed

Six-Claws’s wing with her own. “You should get
some sleep.”

“I’m not going to sleep,” he said. “I’m getting Dune

out of here. As far away from her as I can get him.”

The doctor glanced around and Six-Claws realized

they were alone, apart from Dune; the other
SandWings had left without him realizing it.

“Where are you going?” she whispered. She was

the one who’d thought about stopping Burn; he
remembered the horror and pity in her eyes. He’d
seen her before, taking care of other patients. She
was always calm and efficient. He liked that about
her, even though he didn’t really know her.

“The Scorpion Den, I think,” he whispered back.

He rubbed his eyes. “I’ll have to carry him.”

“I’ll help you,” she said. “If — if you don’t mind me

coming with you.”

He could use the help — Dune was too heavy to

carry far on his own. But he shook his head. “It’s
too dangerous,” he said. “You’d be a deserter, like
us. Burn would kill you if she caught you.”

“Apparently she might kill me even if I stay right

here,” the doctor said wryly. “I’d rather go with you.
I trust you.”

“You don’t know me at all,” he said.

“Of course I do,” she answered. “You’re General

Six-Claws.”

“It’ll just be Six-Claws from now on,” he said. “I

don’t know your name.”

“Kindle,” she said. “Let’s go now, before anyone

comes back.”

They wrapped Dune in blankets and lifted him

between them as carefully as they could. Outside,
the temperature had dropped to almost freezing,
and most dragons were huddled in their tents. No
one questioned Six-Claws and Kindle as they
carried their burden to the outskirts of the
encampment.

“General, sir,” said the dragon on guard duty,

snapping back her wings as they approached.

“We’re taking this dragon back to the stronghold

for more advanced medical treatment,” Six-Claws
said.

“Do you want me to take him?” the soldier offered.

“You sh
ould rest, shouldn’t you, sir?”

“I’ll be fine,” said Six-Claws. “But thank you.”

“Yes, sir,” she answered. “I hope he’s all right.”

Kindle took one side of the blankets and Six-Claws

took the other, and with Dune slung between them,
they lifted off into the night sky.

I’m sorry to leave you, Six-Claws thought at the

soldier on guard duty … at all the soldiers he had to
leave behind. He felt like the lowest snake in the
sandpit, abandoning his position and all the
dragons who’d counted on him.
 But the dragon in the shadows was right. Six-
Claws was helping a monster rise to power, and he
couldn’t do it anymore. Especially not if it meant
Dune would have to live in constant danger.

He’d try to find a way to save the others. Maybe he

could get more of them out, anyone who wished to
be free of Burn or the other two sisters. Maybe
together they could make the Scorpion Den a safe
place for dragons who wanted no part of this war.

Dune shifted in the blankets and Six-Claws had to

adjust his wingbeats to the way his weight rolled.
He glanced down and saw Dune looking up at him
with bleak, haunted eyes.

Not at Six-Claws — at his wings, powering steadily

through the air. The way Dune’s never would again.

“I’m sorry, Dune,” Six-Claws said.

Dune didn’t respond for a long time. Finally he

asked, “Where are we going?”

“To the Scorpion Den,” Six-Claws answered. “I’m

taking you somewhere I hope Burn will never find
us.”

“Burn.” Dune let out a bitter laugh. “You always

said it was so important to be loyal. I guess we’ve
learned something about loyalty, haven’t we?”
 Six-Claws beat his wings in silence for a moment.
“Yes,” he agreed at last.

“That it’s stupid,” Dune said, “and we were stupid

for being loyal in the first place, and now we’re
paying for it. I’m paying for it. There’s no point to
any of this.”

“No, that’s not it,” Six-Claws said. “We were loyal

to the wrong dragon, that’s all. I see that now.”

show page numbers

OTHER AUTHOR'S BOOKS:

The Lost
Continent

Darkness of
Dragons
Darkstalker

Talons of
Power

Deserter

Assassin

Moon
Rising
 Winter
Turning

Escaping
Peril

Prisoners

Against the
Tide
 The Brightest
Night

The Hidden
Kingdom

Wings of Fire Book Four: The Dark

Secret

Reading now