Read The Call of the Crown (Book 1) for Free Online

arranged her tools back in their proper place, then picked up the mortar, turned to face the darkness, and waited.
    Brea heard a faint murmur break the near silence of the deep cavern. It was the sound of a low, deep breath—a sigh, maybe—but no sign of movement. The noise faded to a hum, then to nothing, lost against the gently, swirling drone of the stream that flowed through the centre of the cave. Brea peered into the darkness. Is he there?
    Tapping a finger against the side of the mortar, she gazed aimlessly into the shadows. Why is this always such a game? she thought. “It’s ready!” she called with a firm, loud voice.
    From the back of the cave, Brea saw the reflection of candle light in Rek’s eyes. Two discs of pale, translucent orange flickered amongst darkness. The reflections steadied against the black backdrop of the cave wall. Slowly, the pale lights rose as the dragon heaved himself up. Pausing a moment, he blinked, before finally fixing his gaze on her.
    The mirrors of flame that were the dragon’s eyes swooped down and began to move closer, becoming larger with each passing second. The sound of his laboured breath returned, echoing like bellows against the hard rock of the cave wall. She could hear it much clearer now—a muffled rasp rumbled in his chest, as though each draw of the warm, damp air was a chore. The dragon came to a standstill just beyond the circle of candle light—a silhouette waiting in the shadows, motionless in the darkness.
    Rek edged slowly forward. His scaly, golden skin shone in the candlelight as though wet to the touch. Black slit pupils split his orange eyes in two. Shadow still covered his forehead, but she could see the outline of horns beside small, pointed ears. At the front of his serpent-like jaw, tendrils of fleshy whiskers hung around long, pointed teeth. A pinkish tongue pulsed with every laboured breath inside his half-open mouth.
    Rek tilted his head to the side like a dog quizzing its master. Brea lifted the mortar and gestured for him to come to her. Begrudgingly, and with more than a fleeting glance of unwillingness, Rek moved, slowly edging forward, head still tilted , and eyes fixed on Brea. His enamelled talons clicked on the hard floor as his warm breath pushed at her thin skirt. Another tenuous step brought him close enough to touch.
    Brea took the mortar in both hands and held it ready to pour. “Open up now. I want to see your tongue, Rek.” She made her tone kindly and reassuring . She knew what her dragon thought of medicine. A calm, caring hand is what he needed.
    On seeing the mortar, Rek let out a sighing wheeze from his nose, causing a greenish slime to drip from his left nostril. He quickly lapped it.
    “Ugh… disgusting!” Brea said. Flinching, she creased her face in revulsion. “That’s not going to help you, now is it?”
    Rek backed off a pace, bowing his head as though cowering. His inner eyelids blinked sideways as he pushed out his lower lip.
    “Aw… I’m sorry!” Brea tried not to laugh. Balancing the mortar on her knee, she reached out an open hand, and with a compassionate gaze, she beckoned him forward again. He approached her, slowly. Brea waited with a patient smile. Please hurry, she thought. It’s going to turn tacky and useless soon!
    Rek was close enough . Brea grabbed a thick, leathery lip—curled around a huge, razor-sharp tooth—and tugged it down, hinting that she wanted his mouth open. Rek obliged and cheekily stuck out his forked tongue. Brea poured the contents of the mortar upon it. Rek winced and curled his lip, displaying a full range of fearsome teeth. Brea put down the empty mortar and sprang to her feet. She grabbed his jaws, top and bottom, and forced them together—not that she had a hope of stopping him if he really had a mind to spit it out onto the floor. She pushed hard against his coarse, scaly jaws. “No you don’t… Swallow it all!”
    Rek did so but with as much exaggerated, pathetic