Dragon Greed Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  DRAGON GREED

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Read on for an excerpt from Dragon Pride:

  Dragon Pride - Chapter 1

  Author’s Note

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Other novels by Kelly Armenta

  DRAGON GREED

  Dragonfire Series Book 4

  Kelly Armenta

  All Rights Reserved © 2018 by Kelly D. Armenta

  1st Edition 2018

  ISBN 978-0-9846509-5-8

  No part of this book including the cover art, may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system, without the written permission of the author.

  For information please email:

  Kelly Armenta

  [email protected]

  Cover art owned by Kelly D. Armenta

  Chapter 1

  Awareness crept back into my consciousness slowly. My head hurt, the pain felt like a vice clamped around my forehead. Beneath my cheek the floor was smooth and cool, yet hard like marble. I cracked open my eyes and groaned at the pain. When I would have reached for my head, I discovered my hands were chained together behind my back. I lifted my head and glanced around, sensing I was not alone. Everything about this place was grey including the old crone of a woman seated in the corner some ten feet from me. Her hair was stringy, her body emasculated. Pale rheumy eyes stared back at me from a heavily wrinkled face. She was wearing a long tan dress covered in a tattered cloak that was slightly darker. Across her lap was a staff which looked to be made from some form of knobby wood. Tied at her waist was a large leather pouch with a draw string. Her feet were bare and her hair was pooled onto the floor beside her. If she stood it would likely still reach the floor, it was that long.

  I used my shoulder and pushed myself up into a kneeling position, eyeing the crone cautiously. “Hello,” I greeted her and watched as she blinked at me slowly and tilted her head to the side. “Where are we?” I asked, glancing around the room and finding that there were bars covering the wall behind me. The other walls were grey, perhaps marble, a match to the floor. I lifted myself to my feet and walked to the bars trying to catch a glimpse up and down the corridor without success. Across from our cell was another that held nothing, or no one that I could see.

  My eyes searched the bars and found the door, but the lock was not of any design I’d ever seen. I stepped back and bent my knees lowering my hands so that I could step through them, bringing them to my front. About my wrists were silver bands linked together by silver chain. I tried my strength to break free but only earned some nasty bruises for the effort. On my right wrist was a mark burned into my skin, almost like a tattoo. I glanced at it curiously, while my mind skittered around my pain and I tried to remember where it might have come from.

  “You are in Oiotellad, child,” the old crone rasped, her voice sounding like old parchment.

  “And where is that?” I asked turning back to her.

  “It is… everywhere and… nowhere, a place between places.” She told me calmly and I frowned.

  “Who are you?”

  “Morai,” she replied and turned her bird like face up to me. “I am she that is the Keeper of Elfin Souls.”

  “And what do you here?” I asked, turning fully back to her and stepping away from the bars and to the nearest wall, where I proceeded to pace off the dimensions of the room. It appeared we were in a fifteen foot square enclosure, actually quite large for a cell. There were no seats or buckets or windows to be seen. Just smooth marble and silver bars. Even the ceiling looked to be marble.

  “It is where I am most needed at this time.” She remarked and a chill ran up my spine.

  I tilted my own head and stared down at her. “Have we been here long?” I asked, grateful that my headache seemed to be easing.

  “What is time to an immortal?”

  “You are immortal?” I asked and she blinked again and nodded.

  “Yes, as are you child.”

  Oh, I thought, and started searching the walls, looking for a crack in the marble or some sort of hidden doorway. “You do not talk much,” I remarked, coming to the end of the wall after having run my fingers over every line and imaginary crack I could find, all to no avail.

  “Perhaps you have not yet asked the right question.” She responded with a sly smile.

  I turned to the next wall and considered her response. “Why am I here?” I finally asked.

  “On the surface, I believe you angered Kaela Mensha by challenging his Blade. The truth,” she told me, “is you are here because of another’s greed.”

  Hmmm, I thought. Greed wasn’t a condition I was overly familiar with. Nor could I think of a reason I might have something someone else would want. Which just led me to wonder about this Kaela Mensha? Who was that, and why would I have challenged his Blade? Was his Blade a person or thing? If a man, was he incompetent? No, obviously not, or I wouldn’t have found myself chained and locked away in his prison. I did not remember challenging anyone. Had it been a mistake? What form of challenge might I have made? It might help if I knew who this person was. Aside from the fact that he was male, I had very little to go by. “Can you tell me who he is and do you think he is planning to keep me here forever? I can’t actually remember, but it seems there is something I needed to be doing.”

  The crone sighed and turned her staff in her lap. “Kaela Mensha’s areas are blood and death, just as mine are soul keeping. It is he that enhances war-like qualities. To know him is to embrace rage and use it to increase your power. And he enjoys punishing the truly wicked. As to your other question, I do not believe even Kaela would do such a thing. At least not once he realizes he’s been used.”

  After having searched all four walls, I turned to her and seated myself on the floor some three feet away. I pushed back my long golden reddish hair and realized I was quite naked. For what reason was I naked while she was clothed? For what reason was I here? Apparently this person Kaela was not going to keep forever, which was a good thing. Though who might use a God? I wondered then sighed, so many questions. Perhaps I simply needed to wait a short while and I would find myself free once again? I sensed that patience was not usually a problem for me.

  Morai watched me closely; her pale eyes steady upon my face as if she was waiting for something herself. Waiting for me to do or say something. I shifted slightly upon the cool floor and attempted to reason through my quandary. Why would the Keeper of Souls be here with me, locked in a cell in this grey place? “What does Oiotellad mean?” I asked and she smiled and nodded once.

  “I believe child, that you might call it… the Everlasting.”

  That rang a bell… at least I think it did. I wasn’t supposed to be here, I just couldn’t remember why. Well aside from the fact that I was chained and locked up. “I feel that I should not be here,” I told her. “But I am unsure why. Is this Everlasting a dangerous place?”

  “All places hold danger for those not familiar with them. However as you are not wholly here, your mortal self is not in any danger just yet.”

  “How am I n
ot wholly here?” I asked, glancing down at my body, which looked like it was wholly there to me.

  “Do you know who you are?” she asked. I tipped my head to the side and my eyes widened while I searched my memory. I was unable to answer her question.

  “I… do not know,” I breathed and felt my heart rate accelerate. How could I not know who I was? Not only did I not know my name, but I had no memory of where I came from. It had not dawned on me until she asked, but I simply couldn’t remember. “Do you know who I am?” I asked, my voice sounding strange to me.

  She hesitated before answering and I held my breath while I waited. “I know you, child,” she finally replied. “But it would do me little good to explain it to you as you are currently lost, and must find your own way.”

  It was not what I wanted to hear, and I felt my anger surge at her response. “Then why are you here? You said it was where you needed to be. If you know who I am but will not tell me, then why are you needed?” I demanded in a low angry voice.

  She smiled and flashed a set of crooked yellow teeth at me. “Because my dear, when you do find yourself once again, you will need me to return you to the world of the living. Until then, I fear you are quite stuck with me.”

  I sat there thinking about everything she had told me. There was much to think through and yet nothing made sense. I could not remember my life. Surely I must have had one. She said ‘back to’ which clearly indicated I had come from the world of the living. So returning must be my goal. Was I Elf then? And I raised my hands and felt my ears which were long and delicate and… pointed. Apparently I must be. So if I was Elf, how had I come to be here in the Everlasting? Had I done something bad? Had my challenging the Blade caused me to be pulled into this place? Or was my being here a plot to get me out of the way to obtain something I had which someone else wanted?

  My thoughts spread hither and yon throughout the empty corridors of my memory and the only thing I found was a pair of red glowing eyes amidst something black and huge. I did not know what it was and quickly turned from the memory in alarm. “Do you know my name?” I asked hoping to distract myself.

  “You are called Lexi,” she replied and her eyes watched me closely as I frowned then shook my head.

  “It means nothing to me,” I whispered, then repeated the name to myself several times. “Have we met before?” She shook her head and continued to watch me from within her tattered robes. “Do you know why I have no clothing?”

  “Perhaps you did not wish to be clothed,” she replied and I lifted an eyebrow and stared back at her in confusion. For what reason would my wishing to be naked cause it to be so? That did not make sense to me at all. “Next you will be telling me that I am locked in this cell because I do not wish to be free,” I scoffed and she merely raised her own eyebrow at me in response.

  Frustrated, I rose from the floor and walked to the wall. Soon I was pacing before the bars while my thoughts rolled round and round. “Fine,” I growled and stopped suddenly. My fingers reached out to wrap around the bars and I spoke softly, more to myself than the old woman in the corner. “I wish to be clothed in what I was wearing when I challenged the Blade,” I muttered. Thinking if I was doing any challenging I would have been armed at least.

  When nothing happened I turned and frowned at the crone who sighed and informed me, “Saying it out loud will not make it so, you must make it so.” And she lifted a gnarled finger and tapped the side of her head softly. My fingers tightened on the bars and I closed my eyes and dropped my head to my hands. How did one go about making something so I wondered? Taking in a deep breath, I let it out slowly and tried to imagine myself dressed in… what I had been wearing recently and added the word ‘abracadabra’ just for good measure. Something whispered around me and my eyes popped open in surprise. I leaned back and glanced down my body and was glad for my hold on the bars.

  Tangerine material barely covered my breasts and flowed down my body to the floor. When I moved my foot I discovered I was wearing golden sandals and something swung at my earlobes. Upon my head was an unfamiliar weight and I reached to touch first my earrings and then lifted the circlet off my head. My eyes widened at the color of the stones, which matched my dress perfectly. It was not a small thing. In fact it looked like something a noblewoman would wear, perhaps a Princess… or maybe a Queen? I turned the headpiece around realizing it was finely wrought and quite beautiful, but what was it doing on me? I looked at it and the image of a golden flute flashed behind my eyes. I blinked rapidly and placed the circlet back upon my brow, turning back to the crone, who was no longer sitting on the floor. Morai had pulled herself to her feet and was leaning heavily upon the staff in her hand, her eyes turned up to mine.

  “They come,” she informed me and I turned back to the bars as the sound of a door being opened somewhere down the hall could be heard. And the sound of booted feet I thought, counting steps and thinking… six? I released the bars and stepped back, forcing my shoulders straight as I listened to their approach.

  “What are they?” I whispered to Morai.

  “Mostly Drow,” she replied in a voice I had to strain to hear. I had no idea what a Drow was but the lot of them moved into view and I felt my eyes widen at the sight as they stopped before our cell and stood staring in at us.

  Cruelly beautiful was the term that sprang to mind, and alien. I couldn’t recall ever seeing anyone like them. They looked like Elves but were more muscular, and all were at least six inches taller than I without my sandals. Two of them had skin slightly darker gray than the walls. While the other four ranged from nearly black to one with obsidian skin, which appeared to reflect light. They were all male. All had pointy ears and hair longer than mine. Hair, which they wore down the front of their chests, tied in several places with leather throngs. All wore armor covering their shoulders and arms, leaving their muscular chests bare. They had boots that covered them to just above their knee, and their shins were covered in some form of overlapping hardened animal skin with spikes poking through. Blood red material covered their manhood and draped to their knees. I would have called their attire a skirt, except it only seemed to cover the front and perhaps the back, leaving straps of leather visible upon their hips. Their eyebrows and hair ranged in shades of pale yellow to stark white. He of the obsidian skin had hair that gleamed silver in the light, and matched his eyes. Silver eyes I thought, and felt a memory slip away from me. Huge wicked looking blades hung from their sides and I noted several smaller knives tucked amongst their persons.

  We stared at each other for several moments in silence. To me they looked like warriors, serious warriors. This Everlasting place must be one of war and bloodshed to have created such a fierce people. I wondered what their women looked like. One of the men shifted slightly and he with the silver hair and eyes glared back at me, his face slipping from proud to angry in an instant. Behind him several of the others shifted slightly and one hissed low and soft.

  “They have no women,” Morai informed me softly and I nearly jumped, having forgotten she was there. I pulled my eyes away from the men and glanced down at her in surprise.

  “None… at all?” I demanded and my eyes widened as she glanced up at me and nodded. Standing there, she was nearly half my height and she looked like a strong breeze might blow her over.

  My thought seemed to amuse her for she chortled and leaned forward onto her staff. “None that survive,” she replied once she had gotten over her amusement.

  I wasn’t certain how to respond to that and flicked my gaze back to the men who were watching me through narrowed eyes. “So do they speak? I mean, do they speak a language I will understand? Assuming I understand anything other than what I’m currently speaking that is?” I asked and watched as the silver haired one’s fingers clenched upon the pommel of his sword. I recognized that level of irritation and somehow felt I was no stranger to it. Perhaps where I came from I irritated people often.

  “With whom do you speak, saurar?” demanded a
Drow who was standing next to the silver haired one. The man who spoke had red eyes and I glanced from Morai to them and back again.

  “They cannot see nor sense me,” she chuckled softly and I widened my eyes and bit the inside of my cheek. The man had called me ‘foul one’ in Elvish and I had no idea why he would say such a thing to me. Ha! Apparently I spoke Elvish I thought, although I might have hoped for a better start to our conversation. Well if that’s how they spoke to women, it was no wonder there weren’t any here I told myself silently, and then watched in shock as two of the Drows threw themselves at the bars while hissing and growling. One reached for me and I flowed to my left, grasped his arm, and threw my weight against it. I bared my teeth at the loud snapping noise it made as I bent it backwards and fractured the bone. I released him immediately and stepped back out of reach, my hands smoothing my dress as if nothing of any concern had just occurred. Then I watched the Drow drag his injured arm back through the bars. His pale blue eyes stared at me, fluctuating between a grudging respect and anger. I couldn’t tell if he was more surprised by my actions or if I was.

  My gaze slid to the silver haired one who I sensed might be their captain or whatever they called their head guy. His eyes were narrowed and he watched me with no visible emotion. I couldn’t tell from the look on his face, if he was angry or amused.

  “So did you just come to stare or was there something you wanted?” I finally asked after several more minutes of them simply standing there watching me. If Kaela Mensha was eventually going to let me go, maybe we should just get this little party started so I could go back to being whoever I was, wherever I came from. One of the men in the back jerked suddenly and his features twisted in rage.