The Problem with Dragons

Earlier in the year, I teased a preview chapter of one of the books that I am working on. I have stopped looking for a literary agent. I really want my work to be the best it can be, and to make that happen, I am choosing to get all 5 books completely drafted before moving forward with publishing.

Writing this series has been an adventure, and each book is deepening the world so much that I want to make sure all the threads I am creating properly carry through all the books. I’ve also rearranged pieces of the story for a better reading experience.

Here is the first chapter of The Shattered Queen that I was planning to present earlier in the year, but it has now been moved for better flow. It will still appear in the series.

Chapter 1

1478 AT
Kitari Castle
Kingdom of Keshal

Saoirse’s flesh erupted in goosebumps as the guards forced her down a dark corridor, the damp scent of mildew churning her stomach. Where are they taking me?
Far ahead, a lone window spilled a sliver of midday light into the darkness. There was the faintest sound, a light splish of water. Is someone else here?
She squinted, but her eyes couldn’t make out much in the murky shadows. Are my eyes playing tricks on me? No. There it was again.
Barely visible and only for an instant, but Saoirse knew it was her salvation.
Anger simmered in the pit of her belly. How could things have gone sideways so fast? One moment, she was talking to the king; the next, she was being marched to her doom.
The king had laughed, finding her situation far too hilarious, when the guards bound her hands. He’d already stripped Saoirse of her knighthood and ordered her to hand over her weapons. He thought it was outrageous that a woman could bear any threat to two of his guardsmen.
The twin guards relished in her downfall. Binding her hands tighter than necessary, they made sure the ropes rubbed hard against her skin. They each had a firm grip on her arms now. The one to the right squeezed so brutally that her hand tingled with numbness.
A chill danced down Saoirse’s spine.
The faint aroma of Jinn’s clove-scented parfum calmed her. Only he could move so stealthily as to go unnoticed by the two brutes holding her. His fingers brushed hers, lingering only a moment in her left hand. She understood his signal, and as the rope binding fell away, she pulled free of the guards. The Left guard grunted as Saoirse brought her foot down on the back of his knee. He fell forward, knees smacking the stone floor. The guard growled in dismay as Saoirse yanked his metal helmet away and clobbered him over the head with it. He dropped unconscious next to his brother.
Jinn leaned against the wall, navy cape draped behind him. He’d got the easy job. Taking the pommel end of his sword, Jinn simply thrust it against the other guard’s helmet, and he collapsed unconscious.
If she didn’t know Jinn so well, she might have been scared of him brooding against the wall, dressed in dark clothing, his black hair falling over his face. Even if she had believed the menacing grin on his face, the warmth in his eyes would have given him away.
Jinn held out her scabbard with weapons attached. “I thought you might need this.”
“Jinn, I could kiss you!” Saoirse clutched the scabbard to her chest before buckling it around her hips.
He smiled, “I’ve waited a long time to hear you say those words, but alas, we don’t have time for that right now. We must hurry.”
Jinn pushed her long red hair aside, wrapping a waist-length cloak around her shoulders—a fleeting warmth washed over Saoirse’s cheeks, an echo of their previous relationship.
Jinn helped her through a small window. She dropped several feet, landing in a crouched position on the castle’s rampart. Jinn landed beside her.
“Stay low,” he ordered.
She followed him across the rampart and into a turret. The familiar rush of adrenaline filled her veins.
Rapidly descending the circular stairs, they continued past several doors. The tight space swayed around Saoirse, and she lost her footing. Jinn’s arm steadied her in an instant. She inhaled sharply, her breath hitching in her throat at the warmth of him at her side.
“Saoirse, are you all right?”
She nodded even though she wasn’t; she knew they had to keep moving.
Jinn held her close until they arrived at the ground floor. They slipped carefully about the bustling lower level; Jinn knew the routes and schedules the servants kept. Nobody knew the castle better than he; over the years, Jinn often accompanied his father to work and had free rein to roam as he wished. He’d memorized all its secret passageways and hidey holes. He knew when different areas of the castle would be busy and was familiar with the abandoned sections.
They finally emerged outside on a covered walkway. At the end were two horses, blue seraphins, packed with a few days’ provisions. Seraphins weren’t the prettiest beasts, and even tamed ones could be fairly wild. Their abrasive personalities made them ill-suited for everyday riding, but they had their advantages. They were slim and muscular, with an abnormally long stride and large lung capacity. Originally bred for speed and distance, they were the perfect beasts for making an escape.
Saoirse ran towards the horses, but stopped when she realized Jinn wasn’t behind her. “Jinn? Come on!”
“Saoirse, I can’t leave yet. I have to go back for my father.”
Her stomach churned again at the thought of what might happen to him. Jinn’s father commanded the King’s Guard, and he would likely pay for her escape with his life. The king would kill him when her absence was discovered.
“Then I will go with you,” Saoirse told him.
“No, it’s too dangerous.”
“I can’t leave you behind, Jinn!”
“My father said you were to take the horses, get your brother, and run. He said that’s an order.”
Saoirse admired her friend. His bravery had no equal, nor did his gorgeous face. Even though sweat dripped from his brow and his hair was matted to his olive skin, she still found herself enraptured by his beauty, drawn into the depths of his dark brown eyes. Saoirse threw her arms around him and relished their shared embrace. She knew in her heart now that Jinn had been right about things for a long time.
“Jinn, I —“
“I know, Saoirse.” He tenderly cupped the back of her neck with his rough, calloused hand and kissed her forehead. “No amount of time or distance, remember?”
Saoirse nodded and, after whispered goodbyes, they parted ways forever.

I hope you enjoyed this glimpse of the world I am creating. Thanks for reading. Drop your comments below.