A Dance of Dragons: Series Starter Bundle by Kaitlyn Davis

thought back to the blood, the ash,
the burnt pile of wood. Perhaps it was just a lack of will.
    Rhen understood that—the feeling of failure
when a loved one died, of helplessness, of wanting to drift away
never to be found again. But he had overcome it, with help.
    Rhen looked at the boy again. His skin was
dark, born that way and not just tanned from the sun. His hair was
black and chopped so haphazardly that it stood out at all different
directions. He had lived with wooden huts instead of stone castles.
With animal skins instead of fine silks.
    So different from the people Rhen had grown
up with.
    And yet, still the same somehow. Still
fragile, just like someone else Rhen remembered—someone he so often
tried to forget.
    He reached for the water again.
    If this child was truly alone, then Rhen was
the only one left who could save him.
    A thunderous boom sounded through the
trees.
    Rhen dropped the bottle.
    It fell, rolling along the ground, sinking
closer to the water. He dove, catching the canister just before it
fell into the stream, but half of the contents had been emptied. He
turned it, looking through the top to judge the remaining amount,
when something just behind the bottle caught his attention
instead.
    A footprint.
    No , he corrected himself, a
bootprint . Something that could never belong to an
Arpapajo.
    Invaders had been here.
    Rhen looked at the boy, torn. He really
shouldn't leave, not when the child was still so weak. But his skin
had brightened. He looked better. And those prints could be the key
to saving a lot more than one boy. They could be the key to saving
the kingdom.
    He had no choice.
    Decision made, Rhen stood.
    Scooping the boy up one more time, he gently
placed him under a tree, hidden from the riverbank in case anyone
approached.
    "Keep him safe," Rhen whispered into Ember's
ear. She stomped a hoof, letting Rhen know she would not let him
down.
    "I'll be back soon," he said, but still
grabbed his sword and scabbard, belting them tightly around his
waist.
    Sloshing through the water, Rhen moved to
the opposite side of the bank to examine the print further.
    Most definitely a boot.
    He looked close by, scouring the ground
until a second print identified itself. Rhen stepped closer,
repeating until he had a solid trail to follow. Crushed branches
and chopped bushes created a line through the normally untouched
forest, a track that was easy for Rhen to find. He was used to
stone, something that left a much more invisible path. Compared to
that, this was simple.
    Before long, Rhen happened upon a camp. A
few tents were set up. Weapons lazily rested against a tree. A fire
was still warm though the flames had died. And behind, stacks of
logs were piled up, tied together in tight bushels like those
resting beside the fires in his family's castle.
    The loud noise must have been a tree
falling, but why? Why so much wood? Unless they were planning to
make camp for a long time—or for a much larger crowd—an army,
perhaps.
    His mind spun.
    This was more proof than Rhen had ever hoped
to find, more information than he was prepared for. The king had to
know, immediately. Biting his lip, Rhen reassured himself that his
father would believe him. With news such as this, with stakes so
high, surely just this once, everyone would believe him…
    Rhen moved to turn.
    But before his feet had even shifted,
something heavy slammed into the back of his skull.
    The last thing Rhen thought before he
crashed to the ground, slipping into the darkness, was Damn it,
Cal, why must you always be right?
     
     

3
     

     
    Jinji
    ~ Northmore Forest ~
     
     
    Blue. There were so many shades of blue.
    The deep midnight of a heart in
mourning.
    The gray shadow behind closed eyes.
    The hot white when they first open.
    The oscillating flashes of blinks, until
it's just one bright hue against the clouds.
    Jinji saw them all, lying there, staring up
through the trees because her body had forgotten how to move. Even
if she