Free Cold Hearted Son of a Witch (Dragoneers Saga) by M. R. Mathias

room.
    ***
    Rikky let his new friend rest and ate slowly, conferring with Silva, who seemed half dazed from sating herself. He wanted to make certain that Blaze wasn’t roasting men or frightening the people of Mainsted.
    Silva told him that the huge red wyrm had eaten one of the deer himself then curled into a knot of slumber deeper than words could convey. He’ll not wake soon, she said. He has been flying so very long. Then she sent a strange sense of awareness to Rikky. It wasn’t quite fear , more a feeling of uncertainty, but it was substantial. The Confliction draws nearer, Rikky. We all can feel it. Watch over each other while we rest. This you must do when we cannot.
    Rikky could feel something, but doubted it had much to do with the stupid Confliction. He felt anxious to see Prince Richard well again. The future ruler of the realm had once saved him from trolls, and the dragon called Royal had carried him and a blind man over the wall to safety. That was all before Rikky had bonded with Silva.
    “It’s time.” Zahrellion stepped in, looking quite shapely in a well-fitting pair of calfskin pants, high boots, and her Dragoneer emblem emblazoned vest. The lace-up shirt she wore beneath it was open slightly, revealing only a hint of her modest cleavage. Her hair was wet and well combed. For a moment Rikky saw what Jenka did. He saw the pure beauty of her, but he didn’t dwell on it. She was like his sister and his mind just wouldn’t register her as an attraction. He elbowed Marcherion awake and was smart enough to jump out of reach after doing so.
    ***
    March’s reaching grab missed whatever had been disturbing his slumber. He reached out with his mind, to feel for Blaze, and found nothing. Alarm shot through him, bringing him fully awake. When he registered where he was waking, he found himself a little embarrassed. There was Zahrellion, the druida, looking as creepy as ever. Her ghost hair was stark, and her demon eyes seemed to bore straight through his skin. The way she ogled him made him feel like she wanted to feast on the flesh she saw.
    Her voice was soft and sweet enough, though. “Mysterian has prepared the concoction. We should be there in case Prince Richard needs us. Queen Alvazina will need us if it doesn’t go well.”
    “Will Linux and the king be there?” March asked.
    “Herald is there,” she said. “His party is still waiting on Jenka to return from Kingsmen’s Keep to escort them north.”
    “Oh, you’re gonna love Herald,” Rikky said, and then started in telling March about how Herald had part of his arse eaten by the same sort of goblins that ate his leg.
    March was disappointed that he didn’t get to see much of the outside of Mainsted on the walk through the complex. He did admire the stone work and complex craftsmanship of many a thing he saw. One tapestry, depicting an island landing and a battle with trolls and dragons on the shore, intrigued him so much he decided he would try to find his way back to admire it more if time allowed. He was glad that Mainsted was surrounded by forests and wide open sea. If it was crowded like Gull’s Reach, he might have opted to land in the woods and rest there. When they entered the Dragoneers’ Lair, he found it more like a tavern hall than anything. Inside was total pandemonium. Immediately he was pressed against a wall by a guard who was backing away from something. March looked around the man and saw what had to be the Crown Prince waving around a long dagger. A woman, who was most likely the queen, was hanging in a fainted slump against another guard across the room, and the old wild-haired witch was cackling madly as she danced around trying to calm everyone down.
    The druid, the man with the wood-colored triangle on his head, who March knew was really the king, was pleading with the crazed prince to stop what he was doing. Marcherion was amazed that he was able to grasp who everyone was. Rikky had described them all