Dragon Racers: The Complete Trilogy Read online

  Dragon Racers

  By

  M. R. Mathias

  Copyright 2018

  Michael Robb Mathias Jr.

  All Rights Reserved

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Dragon Racers

  Dragon Racer 1

  Part I - The Dragon Races

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  PART II -Master Luumin

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Part III - Dragon’s Keep

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Part IV - Training

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Part V -Dragon Racer

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Dragon Racer 2

  Part I – Escape

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Part II - Into the Otherworld

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Part III - Heritage

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Part IV - A New Home

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Part V - Wild wings

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty – Four

  Chapter Twenty – Five

  Chapter Twenty – Six

  Chapter Twenty – Seven

  Chapter Twenty - Eight

  Chapter Twenty – Nine

  Part VI - Sky Island

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty – One

  Chapter Thirty – Two

  Chapter Thirty - Three

  Chapter Thirty - Four

  Chapter Thirty - Five

  Chapter Thirty – Six

  Chapter Thirty – Seven

  Chapter Thirty – Eight

  Chapter Thirty - Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Part VII - Race of the Dead

  Chapter Forty - One

  Chapter Forty - Two

  Chapter Forty - Three

  Dragon Racer 3

  Part I – A Taste of Victory

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Part II - Kin’s Crew

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty - One

  Part III - The Sky Island Reverse

  Chapter Twenty – Two

  Chapter Twenty – Three

  Chapter Twenty – Four

  Chapter Twenty - Five

  Chapter Twenty – Six

  Chapter Twenty – Seven

  Chapter Twenty - Eight

  Chapter Twenty – Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty – One

  Chapter Thirty – Two

  Chapter Thirty – Three

  Chapter Thirty – Four

  Part IV - Sky Island

  Chapter Thirty – Five

  Chapter Thirty – Six

  Chapter Thirty - Seven

  Chapter Thirty – Eight

  Chapter Thirty – Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty - One

  The Royal Dragoneers - Preview

  Part I - The Frontier

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Part II - Dungeons and Dragons

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Other titles by M. R. Mathias

  About the Author

  Dragon Racer 1

  By

  M. R. Mathias

  Copyright 2018

  Michael Robb Mathias Jr.

  All Rights Reserved

  Part I - The Dragon Races

  Chapter One

  Sharrah Che was as excited as she’d ever been.

  Her Aunt Sadie was taking her to the dragon races. The celebrated events were held a few times a year, in all but the coldest months. Besides the exotic merchandise arriving at the docks every day, the dragon races were what the greatest port city in the Kingdom of Kahmar was most known for. Sharrah knew a few secondhand things about the wild and sometimes violent affairs. She’d witnessed a few street parades that preceded, and sometimes followed, the festive events. She never attended an actual race, which wasn’t so rare for a girl her age living on the coast where she’d grown up. Here in the city, though, especially on the edge of the affluent Gaslamp District, almost everyone had been at least once. Sharrah, on the other hand, hadn’t even seen the inside of the King’s Colosseum yet.

  It wasn’t like she hadn’t wanted to go. Until recently, she was too young to do much of anything without an escort, and admission was supposedly expensive. She didn’t earn much money, and no one had ever invited her to a real event, until tonight. Of course, there were free trade days in the great arena, where craftsmen and auctioneers gathered and did what they do. But Sharrah had never been one for crowds. Now these days, many of the filthy men looked at her a little longer than they should, and with a different look in their eyes. In public, she felt like meat turning on a spit.

  Thinking about it made her question what she was wearing even now.

  “Hooooooooooooooh!” the sound of the great public clock releasing its steam over in Gaslamp Park announced that the hour was upon them.

  Sharrah had to hurry.

  She posed before a head-tall reflecting
glass in her aunt’s down stairs parlor. She turned this way and that, taking herself in. She wasn’t particularly beautiful, at least she didn’t think so. Her face was round, and the wide almond shape of her eyes showed the local heritage more than any other trait. No quality stood out and separated her from the rest of the girls her age. She wasn’t plain, though, so she wasn’t worried. Her honey brown eyes sparkled when she smiled, and the rare, light-colored freckles across her nose, however annoying, were starting to blend in. Her smile was what she would consider pleasant to look upon, and her body was properly proportioned for her modest height.

  She knew the boys looked at her when she passed. They would be looking a little harder this night. She was wearing leather boots, tight leather pants, and a loose fitting, almost sheer blouse, with a deep V-neck that displayed her unrestrained breasts a little more prominently than she thought was necessary. Her aunt had picked the outfit, and she thought it made her look half a decade older than her sixteen years.

  The top was belted around her slim waist in a way that made her hips seem a little wider than they actually were, which was a good thing, because her mother had always told her she looked too thin to bear children.

  The memory of her mother’s words caused a sadness to creep into her elation. Sharrah’s mother died two winters previous, from the blood cough. Since her father was a no-good sailor who broke her mother’s heart, Aunt Sadie had taken her in. She’d only met the man three times her whole life and, on those rare occasions, he’d barely acknowledged her. He was probably on the other side of the world this very moment, working on one of the ships he clearly loved more than his family. She doubted he knew, or even cared, her mother had passed. Her ma had a third sister, too, but Aunt Maralee lived in Killam, which was a rough and tumble trading city a few miles inland, where the Kingsroad split and the forested foothills met the farmlands.

  Sharrah had her long hair braided down her back, just like the samura who sparred in the preliminary contests before the races. Normally honey brown, it seemed a few shades darker than it would have been if she’d let it hang free. She’d tried to mimic the look of those women because she often saw them training from the window of the bakery where she and her aunt worked. The samura came and went, but all of the fighting girls were fit and fierce. Unlike many women in the city, the people of Prydonia treated them with respect. When she daydreamed, Sharrah sometimes pretended it was her out there in the training yard, wielding one of those thin curved swords, blocking blow after blow with her small shield. After watching them practice for months now, she was as excited to see what they did before the dragons raced as she was to see the great wyrm’s and their riders.

  Aunt Sadie’s husband Daniol died a few years before Sharrah’s mother. He had made a good bit of money trading goods from the port with merchants in Killam, so the modest house and the stable, was all paid for. Sadie kept the stock pen out back rented, too. The place wasn’t actually in the more prominent part of the city where every corner had a street lamp that never extinguished, but it was just one block over, and the property backed against the bailey wall of a true mansion. The king’s red coats passed on the lane out front when they made their hourly turn around, so it was one of the safest places in Prydonia to be.

  Sharrah wasn’t certain, but she thought Sadie was now secretly sleeping with the baker they worked for. Guotin had a plump, grouchy wife, and six unruly children, each as pasty and dim as he was. Guotin often showed up at Aunt Sadie’s door, long before the sun came up. He was nice enough to work for, but Sharrah didn’t think much of him. She was also smart enough to mind her own business about it all. Few women in Prydonia lived as well as she and Aunt Sadie did, in a decent sized stone and mortar house, with an honest income, and without any callous men ordering them about.

  Putting the thoughts of her mother and Aunt Sadie’s choice of bed partners behind her, Sharrah fixed her blouse so that it was looser around her chest and would be a little less revealing. If she leaned forward just right, which she would only do if she came across a boy worth teasing, he would get an eye full. Otherwise, she would just have to try and stay still. When she walked, she jiggled, and it would be all she could do to hide her self-consciousness.

  She peeked out the curtained window and saw that the sky was cloudless and a deepening evening blue. The cobbled lane was busier than usual, probably because of the races. It was late afternoon, and they would be leaving soon. Aunt Sadie had arranged for a carriage to take them to the King’s Colosseum. It was important, her aunt often told her, to carry themselves a little higher than their station dictated. This not only insured they were treated as ladies should be treated, it reminded those who might try and take advantage of a widow, fostering her deceased sister’s daughter, that they were in no need of any sort of outside help. Aunt Sadie paid the yearly king’s tax, and had no trouble reminding others of the fact. She often boasted she could call on the city guard, or the king’s red coats if anything unsavory were to happen to either of them.

  “You look lovely, dear,” Aunt Sadie said as she came down the stairs. “Be sure not to lean too far forward, or let the blouse stretch too tight across the tips. We wouldn’t the young men to see too much. It is a very fine line, you know.”

  “I know.” Sharrah grinned. “You look lovely as well.”

  Her aunt did look nice, and half of her forty some-odd years. They could pass for sisters this night, as far as age was concerned. Aunt Sadie wore a similar outfit, with tight fitting leather pants. But her silky pull over blouse was made to look like a bell sleeved kimono robe and hung to her thighs. It was shiny black and covered in a pattern of random snakes of various shades of green. Her top wasn’t belted at the waist as Sharrah’s was. Instead, it was cinched under her heavy breasts in a way that accentuated their shape and size. The V in the front of her top was just as deep as Sharrah’s, but due to the size of Aunt Sadie’s charms, the opening didn’t hang down at all. The taller men around her might see cleavage, but even still, it wasn’t so revealing as to be distasteful.

  Aunt Sadie didn’t have on high boots. She wore slightly heeled shoes that disappeared under the hem of her pants. Her dark hair was bundled and piled atop her head into a pinned bun. There were a few curly strands dangling in all the right places, but the look left the length of her neck fully exposed, making her seem a bit taller than she was. It was clear, Aunt Sadie was a head turner. Even her makeup stood out.

  Her face was powdered pale but not white. She resembled a dancing geisha but not so much that she would be mistaken for one, or worse, an oiran hopper. Her lips were painted green, not cherry red, and her cheeks were darkened with gray instead of rouged pink. She had gold bracelets formed into thin snakes that wrapped their way up her forearms. The gems that made the eyes of the viper heads on top of each wrist sparkled the same as the emerald pins holding her hair in place. The pinheads too, Sharrah now noticed, were tiny viper heads. To top off the matching jewelry, yet another golden, emerald-eyed snake’s head dipped into the hollow of her aunt’s throat from a scaled choker band. If the woman’s breasts didn’t draw eyes on their own, the necklace would make sure they looked exactly where she wanted them.

  “Here.” Her aunt held out a finger that had at least a dozen gold and silver bracelets dangling loosely from it. “Pick a few for each wrist. We won’t put anything around your neck. The lechers will have enough to gawk at without drawing any more attention to your body. But the boys, they will be stepping on their tongues.”

  Sharrah felt herself blushing. She picked three bracelets for each wrist and put them, on. While she was admiring them, a loud rapping sound of the knocker banging at the door startled her.

  “The spring carriage is here, dear,” Aunt Sadie said. “Are you ready?”

  “I am.” Sharrah took a deep breath and let it out slow, trying to center herself. “I’m terribly excited. I’ve never been to the dragon races.”

  “You should be excited, dear,” Aunt Sadie sa
id, allowing the uniformed driver to hold the door for them, once she’d opened it. “You’re in for a treat.”

  Chapter Two

  The carriage was from the Royal Spring Carriage Company, and as fine a ride as Sharrah had ever seen. Clean and glossy black on the outside, the passenger compartment was chased with the crimson and gold colors of the kingdom. Another man was at the side of the boxy, riveted metal contraption that pulled it all. He was twisting a wheel that clicked as it turned. It looked and sounded like it was getting harder and harder to spin as he went.

  Two poles extended up from the driver’s leather covered bench, one with a hook and a currently unneeded lantern dangling from it, the other with the Kingdom of Kahmar’s triangular black banner hanging limply in the still air. The same emblem from the banner was on the side of the carriage door; a crimson dragon’s head roaring, its eyes, as well as the short burst of flame coming from its toothy maw, shiny and golden.

  When the driver opened the door and folded down a cleverly hidden step, Sharrah took his offered hand, stepped up, and ducked in. She wasn’t surprised to find the inside of the vehicle just as opulent as the rest. A cushioned bench was on either side of the door and pillows covered in red velvet, with golden frills lining the seams, were leaned in the corners. Even the curtained windows, which Aunt Sadie quickly unfastened so that they hung closed for privacy, were made of red velvet and trimmed in gold.

  “To the races, m’lady?” the driver asked.

  “Of course.” Sadie handed him a coin and the man showed great restraint by not glancing at it before putting it in his coat pocket and closing the door. Sharrah saw that it was silver, and worth what she made in ten days working at the bakery. She didn’t know how much her aunt was paid for her labors there, but she was pretty sure that she didn’t make more than twenty coppers a week, which was what the single silver coin was worth.

  After the door was closed and the driver and his assistant seated, the expected lurch forward never came. Instead, the carriage rolled smoothly into motion. Sharrah was facing the rear, and her aunt was looking back at her with a tightlipped grin showing on her face. Sharrah took one of the pillows and put it in her lap, running her fingers over the soft fabric.

  “Can we afford this fanciness?” Sharrah finally asked.