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  THE KISS FROM A DRAGON

  C.D. PENNINGTON

  Copyright © 2020 C.D. Pennington

  All rights reserved.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the copyright owner.

  Also available in paperback.

  For Ali & Barney, for believing in me.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1 – Cause for Concern

  CHAPTER 2 – “We Need an Apothecary”

  CHAPTER 3 – A Search for Help

  CHAPTER 4 – Hope Comes to Esteri

  CHAPTER 5 – A Family in Turmoil

  CHAPTER 6 – A Welcome Return

  CHAPTER 7 – Worst Fears are Realised

  CHAPTER 8 – The Journey Begins

  CHAPTER 9 – Nowhere to go

  CHAPTER 10 – The Unwelcome Visitor

  CHAPTER 11 – Teamwork

  CHAPTER 12 – A Secret Meeting

  CHAPTER 13 – In Need of Rest

  CHAPTER 14 – Childhood Memories

  CHAPTER 15 – Trouble at The White Horse Inn

  CHAPTER 16 – A Nest of Vipers

  CHAPTER 17 – The Mystery Deepens

  CHAPTER 18 – Kept in the Dark

  CHAPTER 19 – Covert Surveillance

  CHAPTER 20 – Intimidation

  CHAPTER 21 – Tempers Flare

  CHAPTER 22 – No Escape

  CHAPTER 23 – The Search Begins

  CHAPTER 24 – A Desperate Prayer

  CHAPTER 25 – A Dangerous Encounter

  CHAPTER 26 – Suspicions

  CHAPTER 27 – A Glimmer of Hope

  CHAPTER 28 – Hope is Lost

  CHAPTER 29 – The Fight for Survival

  CHAPTER 30 – Freedom at Last

  CHAPTER 31 – Homeward Bound

  CHAPTER 32 – The Wrongful Arrest

  CHAPTER 33 – The Southstorm Dungeon

  CHAPTER 34 – The Trial of Cerana Proudstone

  CHAPTER 35 – Sentenced to Death

  CHAPTER 36 – Stay With Me

  CHAPTER 37 – A Plausible Theory

  CHAPTER 38 – A Miracle is Performed

  CHAPTER 39 – One Good Turn Deserves Another

  CHAPTER 40 – The Flight to Barnesbay

  CHAPTER 41 - Onwards

  CHAPTER 42 – Testing Times

  CHAPTER 43 – The Tide Turns

  CHAPTER 44 - Trust

  CHAPTER 45 – The Tower of Stone

  CHAPTER 46 – Turning up the Heat

  CHAPTER 47 – Deep Regret

  CHAPTER 48 – The Battle for the Bridge

  CHAPTER 49 – The Cavern

  CHAPTER 50 – What Would a Dragon Do?

  CHAPTER 51 – Nemesis

  CHAPTER 52 – Unrelenting

  CHAPTER 53 – The Upper Hand

  CHAPTER 54 – The Madness of the Mage

  CHAPTER 55 – The Blessing

  CHAPTER 56 - The Saviours of Evorene

  CHAPTER 57 – The Three Sisters of Barnesbay

  About The Author

  PROLOGUE

  The man hated rats.

  At the end of the wooden dockyard jetty where he crouched, the rodents squeaked and scurried around him. It was as if they were questioning his reason for being there. He was in their domain now, and they did not take kindly to strangers.

  The night was chilly, and a million stars shone above him like tiny little crystals of light on a canvas of pure black. They illuminated his space, but this did not concern him. No-one would be around at this time of night - no-one who could interfere with his work, anyway. Most sensible people would be sound asleep by now, and the non-sensible ones would be far too drunk to recognise their own mothers.

  There had been one occasion where he had been interrupted whilst going about his task. An old drunk, taking refuge in a large crate, had accosted him on his way to the jetty. The tramp – swigging from a half-empty bottle of whisky – had told him much, and most of it unintelligible. The few coherent sentences he had deciphered warned the man of impending doom, and he was advised to find the nearest inn and stay there until the event passed. The man never found out what the event was, as the drunk swiftly fell asleep, snoring loudly.

  If only the old bum knew, he thought, smirking to himself.

  He was alerted by a shuffling behind him. He crouched, turning to the source of the disturbance. Holding his breath, all he could hear was the lapping of the waves against the posts of the jetty. Not even the usual gulls sang their chorus this night.

  The shuffling began again. Then, a small wooden barrel tipped over and rolled down the cobbled street, shortly followed by a scruffy-looking dog. The man breathed a sigh of relief, and turned back to his task.

  He wiped his long, bulbous nose on a baggy sleeve. It was so cold tonight. Opening a canvas bag, he carefully removed one of the glass containers, and held it up to the light of the moon. Inside, a dark liquid bubbled gently. The man grinned.

  Carefully, he unscrewed the lid, taking great care not to spill any of the substance. He had another five bottles in his bag, but every drop was precious.

  The stench that discharged from the open vial reminded him of rotten cabbages, and he screwed his nose up in disgust. Once, before he had become a little more accustomed to the disgusting odour, it caused him to throw up all over the jetty. He was becoming a little more immune to the stench now, but that did not make it any less foul.

  Not willing to endure the odour any longer than necessary, he tipped the contents of the vial into the river. No sooner had the liquid met with the rushing waters, it rapidly expanded into a foamy mass, like the froth on a tankard of fine ale. As the current swept the mass downstream, it expanded further until it was the size of a small boat.

  The man knew it would get no larger now, and so he reached for another vial.

  As he prepared another container for pouring into the river, the foamy substance dispersed itself across the surface of the river, gradually sinking into the water until it was absorbed altogether.

  Satisfied with his work, he emptied the contents of the remaining vials into the flowing waters below. Once he had witnessed the last of the foams fully consumed by the river, he slung the empty bag over his shoulder, rising from his crouch.

  “One of these batches had better bloody well work,” he grumbled to himself. “Bloody freezing out here.”

  As he walked silently back up the jetty, he kicked out at a large rat who scrutinised his every move. The horrid creature’s eyes glowed white, reflecting the moon behind him and unnerving the man even further. His kick missed the rat, who scurried away.

  The man pulled his cloak further over his thin shoulders, wiped his nose once more, and disappeared into the night.

  All he could do now was wait.

  CHAPTER 1 – Cause for Concern

  The setting sun crept into view from behind the distant mountain as it continued its descent towards the western horizon. Late summer sun swept over the small cottage and its grounds, bathing the area in a sheet of golden light. Large oak trees swayed in the gentle breeze, and a quarrel of sparrows chirped away merrily from within the dense foliage. The only other sound on this delightful summer evening was the relaxing trickle of the small stream at the bottom of the garden.

  Bu
t for Esteri Proudstone, not even the perfect evening weather could remove the constant feeling of dread from her mind. Although her sisters did not know about it, her illness was deeply worrying her.

  The Proudstone home was situated on the outskirts of the small village of Barnesbay. It sat on the southern coast of Evorene, east of the imposing Southstorm City - the realm’s capital and largest city. One of the smaller villages in the realm, Barnesbay was home to just a hundred inhabitants with most dwellings found on the east side of the Tohenas River. Mainly fishers and farmers, the residents enjoyed a peaceful existence away from the hustle and bustle of the realm’s larger towns and cities.

  Unaware of Esteri’s worries, Cerana Proudstone sat back on the warm grass and watched her youngest sibling merrily go about her work. Esteri was tending to her crops as if they were small, fragile animals instead of hardy sweetcorn, cabbages and carrots.

  Esteri’s long blond locks swayed in the gentle breeze as she carefully teased another carrot from the ground. Cerana smiled to herself as the love for her sister poured over her in a wave, as it frequently did when she spent time with both her younger sisters. She only had to watch them doing what they loved to remind herself how lucky and privileged she was to have them both in her life. She liked to think that Father would have been very proud of the way she had brought them up almost single-handedly. She was quite proud of herself to look at how happy they had all become together, now nearly fifteen years to the day since that fateful evening when they tragically lost both their parents.

  The thoughts of that day caused the familiar sense of sadness to envelop the warmth quickly, and the guilt threatened to consume Ceana once again. But she had learnt in recent times to try and look forward rather than back – she wished to believe that Father would have wanted that, but it was still so hard to bear.

  Cerana’s attention returned to her elegant sister, the smile reappeared on her face, and the happiness washed over her again. Her guilt passed, for now.

  Esteri wore a long summer dress, white with light blue stripes and a matching blue ribbon tied around her slim waist. As usual, Esteri effortlessly made such a simple attire look beautiful. Her naturally curly, golden blond hair tumbled over her bare shoulders down to her lower back. At the age of twenty-one, Esteri was the youngest of the three Proudstone sisters. Two years separated her from Jana, with Cerana the eldest at twenty-five.

  Jana was out fishing down at the river, trying to catch them a succulent trout or two as Esteri harvested the vegetables to complement their evening meal. Jana was an accomplished angler and Esteri an excellent cook. Between them, the younger sisters tended to the housekeeping while Cerana worked at her tannery, making and repairing leathers for her customers. Although her skill did not pay handsomely, Cerana was exceptional at it, and her customers were always delighted with her work. Unfortunately, a leatherworker was also not in the greatest of demand in current times, but she loved it, and it made them enough gold to live relatively comfortably, for most of the time.

  Esteri had finished prising her carrots from the ground, and her wicker basket was now laden with fresh vegetables for their evening feast. She always prepared far too much food for just the three of them, but somehow it seemed that none went to waste. She picked up her basket and made her way towards Cerana, the lush green grass tickling her bare feet.

  “I don’t think the little fishies want to come out and play today.” She was referring to the length of time Jana had been out fishing; they were expecting her back quite some time ago.

  “Maybe she’s fallen asleep again, and they’ve eaten all the bait!” Cerana laughed, also aware that Jana seemed to be taking a lot longer than usual to return from her fishing trip. Esteri giggled as the sisters recalled the time that Jana had set up her fishing rod in the river, propped up on a Y-shaped tree branch stuck in the ground. She had fallen asleep on the riverbank in the summer sunshine, only to awaken sometime later to find her fishing rod disappearing down the river at high speed, pulled along no doubt by a hungry fish. Her bait bucket was also empty - and still to this day, she had no idea what had eaten its contents.

  The memories made Esteri laugh so hard that her sides began to ache, and she had to put her basket down and sit on the warm grass next to her sister. Cerana was laughing too, but when she noticed the red spot suddenly appear on Esteri’s dress, she sat up, the humour swiftly turning to alarm. A second red spot appeared, then a third – and another. The blood dripped from Esteri’s right nostril onto the top of her dress, causing a red stain to emerge and grow as it soaked into the soft linen.

  Esteri seemed unaware of the blood as she continued to giggle, but her laughter subsided when she noticed her sister’s anxious looks directed towards her.

  “You are bleeding,” Cerana exclaimed, pulling a cloth out of the pocket of her breeches and handing it to her sister. Esteri then felt a slow trickle coming from her nostril and instinctively bent her head down to look at her dress. Another drop of blood spilt onto the exposed part of her chest where the dress did not cover. Esteri took the cloth and pushed it to her nose, holding it there a moment before inspecting the red blotch that had now appeared on it.

  “Oh no, not again!” she cried. “And my dress! It’s ruined!” Esteri seemed more concerned about the dress than her sudden loss of blood.

  “What do you mean, again? Have you had this before?” asked Cerana. She was getting worried.

  “A couple of times, yes,” Esteri admitted, wiping her nose with the blood-soaked cloth.

  “Come, let’s get you inside and clean you up.” Cerana gently helped her up from the grass and led her inside the small cottage they called home.

  The cottage was a modest dwelling with just two main rooms. To the sisters, it was their pride, and they looked after it immaculately - mainly Esteri, who was happy to assume the role of housekeeper. A large stone fireplace sat halfway along the wall, dominating the main room leading from the entrance porch. Although not yet lit, stacks of chopped wood sat in readiness for when the day turned cold. Even in summer, nights in Barnesbay were chilly, and the only heat came from the fireplace.

  A large chequered carpet sat in the middle of the room, covering part of the wooden floorboards. A dining table and four chairs sat opposite the fire, and a writing desk and chair resided in the far corner, adorned with quills, ink and parchments.

  Two large benches were placed at each end of the fireplace, each easily affording room for two. Soft cushions and pillows made the oak seats much more pleasant to sit on. Oak bookcases and cabinets sat against the walls of the room, mostly empty apart from plates and dishes and a few old books that Jana liked to read occasionally.

  Cerana sat Esteri on one of the chairs at the dining table, grabbed a fresh cloth from one of the cabinet drawers and pulled up a chair to sit opposite. Esteri sat with the fabric pressed against her nose, stemming the flow of blood.

  “How long have you been getting nosebleeds?” Cerana asked.

  “Oh, just a few days ago it started. This one seems to be the worst. The others have been pretty light.”

  “Do you feel ok otherwise? No other symptoms?”

  “Not usually, but I do feel a little bit sick now. Could you bring me a bucket?”

  Cerana fetched a small wooden pail and placed it down at Esteri’s feet.

  “Thanks,” Esteri said. “I think the bleeding has just about stopped now.” The fresh cloth had a small amount of blood on it, but as Esteri placed it to her nose, it did not seem to be collecting any more blood. She had dried blood on her breast, chin, cheek and hands. The top of her dress was saturated with red fluid, and specks of blood splattered all over the soft material. Cerana thought that Esteri looked as though she had just stabbed someone. She was also frightfully alarmed at how pale her sister looked.

  “I think I’m going to be sick.” Esteri never gave Cerana time to respond as she threw her head forward and vomited into the bucket. Cerana tried as best she could to pull her curl
ed locks away from the mess. Thankfully, the bucket served its purpose and caught the vomit without any falling on the wooden floor. Esteri retched again, and Cerana noticed that there was blood in her vomit. A very anxious expression emerged on her face.

  At that point, the door flung open, and Jana burst in, triumphantly holding two fresh brown trout aloft, suspended from a piece of rope tied around their tail fins. “We shall eat like queens tonight, sisters!” Esteri’s latest retch removed the grin from Jana’s face as she studied the scene in front of her – blood-soaked rags, Esteri bent over a bucket, and Cerana holding back her hair. “What the hell…?” Jana dropped the fish and ran across to her sisters. “What’s happened?” she asked anxiously.

  “She is ill,” Cerana advised her. “Her nose just started bleeding outside, wouldn’t stop. Then she felt sick and started vomiting.”

  Esteri leaned backwards and groaned, before thrusting forward again with a retch, although this time nothing came out. She coughed and spat some fluid out of her mouth before groaning, long and anguished. Her sisters looked at each other with concern.

  “I think it is passing,” Esteri eventually announced. “Oh, but I feel faint.”

  “Come, let’s get you to bed.” Cerana and Jana helped her to her feet. Very unsteadily, they walked her to the room where they all slept. There was no door to the bedroom, just a large archway leading from the main area. There was one large double bed and one single bed; Esteri and Jana usually slept together, but they set her down on the single bed as it was closer. The bedroom was quite dark as there was only one small window in this part of the cottage, so Cerana asked Jana to bring a lamp. Jana obeyed and fetched an oil lamp, which she lit and set down on the bedside table.

  Esteri groaned again and turned over onto her side. She drew her legs up into her chest and hugged her knees, before quickly falling sound asleep. Cerana gently pushed her golden locks away from her face. Jana brought a warm, damp cloth and cleaned the blood from her face, hands and chest as she slept. Cerana held a hand to her forehead; she was burning like a hot coal, yet her face was white as snow. Even as her sisters gently removed her blood-stained clothes and pulled a blanket over her, Esteri did not stir from her sleep.