For Promise Yet Unbroken

  Table of Contents

  For Promise Yet Unbroken

  Book Details

  Dedication

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  About the Author

  FOR PROMISE YET UNBROKEN

  No Man's Land - Book Two

  Tygati

  Jeremey has been an unrepentant troublemaker since the day he learned to walk, with no intention of slowing down—until the day tragedy struck.

  Now a young man, Jeremey seeks to make amends for his wild youth and fulfill an unspoken promise he once made years ago to the people of Noman. All he needs is a dragon and a chance to prove himself, which is easier said than done in the face of a crashed spaceship, hostile aliens, a deadly plague, and interstellar war.

  Still, if there's anyone up to the task, it's Jeremey Jasper, troublemaker extraordinaire.

  BOOK DETAILS

  For Promise Yet Unbroken

  No Man's Land 2

  By Tygati

  Published by Less Than Three Press LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.

  Edited by Amanda Jean

  Cover designed by Meg Daunting

  This book is a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, and incidents are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.

  First Edition December 2015

  Copyright © 2015 by Tygati

  Printed in the United States of America

  Digital ISBN 9781620046784

  Print ISBN 9781620046791

  For Rykaine and Skylark

  Without whom this story would never have existed

  And for Michelle and Dezaray

  Without whom this story would never have been completed

  ONE

  It always began the same way. He's high on a bluff overlooking the plains, staring out past the ambling fleep herd at the horizon. He couldn't remember now what he'd been thinking—probably something stupid. What he did remember was the sudden silence just before the screams began. It hadn't lasted very long, he thought, but in his dreams it always seems to last forever. An eternity in which he can do nothing, his cry frozen in his throat.

  All at once he's no longer on the bluff, but down in the thick of the carnage with terrified fleep everywhere. For a moment all he can see is fleep, then abruptly they part and he's staring up at the biggest, meanest rachya he's ever seen. He can't move, can't breathe. Fear holds him in an unbreakable grip.

  He hears his mother's scream.

  So does the rachya. It turns, and the spell is broken. Before he realizes it, he's on his knees in the thick of the fleep herd, staring from between their legs in horror as the rachya slashes viciously at his mother. Her shock-lasso only seems to anger it. Where is his father and their blaster? he wonders in desperation, though he already knows the answer.

  His father is dead, and he is forced to watch as the monster tears his mother into pieces.

  Then it turns for him.

  Every time he dreams, he's certain that this is the time it will get him. This time, rescue won't come soon enough. But come it does, in the form of a great indigo dragon and its furious flame-haired rider. He's seen this man angry more than his fair share of times, but this is different. He's never seen Charlie Colcord like this before.

  Sometimes he wonders if rachya can feel fear. If they can, then that one definitely did, looking into Charlie's eyes.

  Then it's dead, and Charlie is turning toward him, the anger gone and deep pain and regret in its place. He kneels, holding out his arms. His mouth moves.

  "Jeremey."

  The sound of his name breaks something loose inside him, and he's never sure if he's screaming or crying. Perhaps both. Certainly in those early days he'd wake from the dream with tears on his cheeks and a scream in his throat, bringing everyone running to see what the fuss was.

  These days he doesn't make a sound, though his cheeks are still wet when he manages to open his eyes.

  Staring up at the featureless ceiling above, Jeremey concentrated on nothing but breathing, in and out, until the pattern steadied. Only then did he sit up, rubbing his hands over his face and wiping away the wetness there. He exhaled slowly before forcing himself to his feet, yanking the covers back into place with a flick of the wrist. Not exactly neat, but if Aunt Sue didn't like it, she could damn well fix it herself. Even when Jeremey had still bothered to make the attempt, it hadn't been good enough for her, so he'd long since quit trying.

  Besides, if he was lucky, after today he'd never again have to sleep under her roof. Today was the day he'd been working toward for the last six years. Today everything was going to change. It had to. He couldn't stand to be the orphan no one wanted for even one more day.

  He'd make it change, no matter what anyone else thought.

  Squaring his shoulders, Jeremey took a deep breath before shrugging out of the long johns he wore to bed—Aunt Sue had made it absolutely clear that he was not allowed to sleep naked under any circumstances—and rounding up his clothes. Underwear first, then shirt and pants, vest, leggings, belt… His boots took a minute to locate, one having wiggled its way beneath his bed and the other hiding under an extra blanket.

  Last was his hat. That he never needed to hunt down because it was always in exactly the same place, hanging over one of the bed posts. Not long after he'd first arrived in Aunt Sue's house, his cousin Billy had gotten it into his head to 'relocate' Jeremey's hat. That incident had almost lost Jeremey his place in the house after he'd shown Billy the error of his thinking. It had resulted in most of the rules that Jeremey now chafed under. It had also meant that not a single one of his cousins would touch his hat under any circumstances.

  He picked it up, running his fingers lightly along the brim before turning it and fitting it snugly over his head. It was still a bit too big, but it probably always would be. No matter what Jeremey did with the rest of his life, he doubted he'd ever come anywhere close to matching Charlie Colcord's size. Few people could. Charlie looked like he could wrestle a rachya with his bare hands.

  Shaking off his thoughts, Jeremey ran a quick mental check to make sure he had everything before squaring his shoulders and heading downstairs.

  As usual, the conversation at the breakfast table stilled when he stepped into the kitchen. He ignored it, long used to the way Aunt Sue and her family felt about him, and set about serving himself. His youngest cousin, Sarah, subtly scooted her chair away from his when he sat down, and Jeremey pretended he hadn't noticed. Pretended it didn't hurt, that he didn't care. Life as usual.

  He ate without really tasting anything, just wanting to get the meal over with so he could escape from the house. He'd never really cared for the indoors all that much as a child, and he cared for them even less now. Inside there were fewer places to run, and far more corners to get trapped in.

  "So, today's the day, huh?" Aunt Sue's husband Robert asked, his cheer a little too obviously forced. Eager to be rid of Jeremey, but lacking any real interest in Jeremey's potential future.

  "Yeah," Jeremey muttered without looking up from his eggs.

  There was an awkward moment of silence, filled with the sound of breathing and the shifting of chairs, before Robert tried again. "Bet you're excited."

  Excited? At the thou
ght of escaping from this house and these people? He wanted to snort. That was something of an understatement. He'd give anything to be somewhere he could really belong, where he could make a difference instead of always being the odd man out. But his only response was another neutral "Yeah" once he'd swallowed his mouthful.

  Robert shifted again and cleared his throat. Jeremey didn't even have to look to picture the lost, uncertain glance he shot Aunt Sue. Neither of them knew what to do with him. They hadn't known what to do with him since he'd been dumped on them six years ago, but had been unable to refuse to care for him, being his only living relatives.

  Jeremey wished he could have stayed with Charlie. Charlie had saved his life that day, but more importantly it had been Charlie who took him in while they'd sent word out to locate his relatives. Charlie, who had more reason than anyone to dislike him given all the trouble Jeremey had caused, who had been the only one willing to tend to him until his proper family claimed him.

  Jeremey reached up and pulled Charlie's hat down lower over his eyes, obscuring everything but his plate and the table beneath it. He hated this house, this settlement. Fair Valley was the largest settlement on Noman. Supposedly the safest as well. Jeremey hadn't felt safe since Charlie and Zorevan had ridden off after delivering him to Aunt Sue, taking with them the last remnants he had of Deadwood Gulch.

  That was going to change. He'd worked himself to the bone to make certain he got the opportunity to be someone more than just "that odd orphan boy", and now the day was finally here. Nothing and no one was going to stop him.

  No longer hungry, Jeremey stood and took what was left of his meal to the disposal, dumping it and rinsing off his plate before striding toward the door. He snagged his jacket from a hook and shrugged it on, settling the material into place. No one said goodbye or wished him luck as he pushed open the front door and stepped out onto the porch and then down into the dusty street.

  His feet knew his destination. He didn't have to think about it; he just started walking. No one paid him any mind as he passed, nor did he expect them to. People in Fair Valley had no reason to notice Jeremey Jasper, orphaned ward of Sue and Robert Driscoll. They'd never known the energetic child who'd been called Hellion and Troublemaker and everything in-between. That part of him had been left behind in Deadwood Gulch, along with everything else that mattered.

  Today, all that would change.

  He increased his pace as he rounded the last corner and the barracks and stables came into view. They didn't really look like much. Plain and utilitarian, the only obvious difference between them and the rest of the buildings in Fair Valley was their size. Not the barracks—those weren't anything special—but the stables were mammoth. They had to be, to fit all of the dragons that guarded Fair Valley from harm.

  Plenty of children were dragon-obsessed growing up, though few of them ever made it to the status of rider. Jeremey hadn't been one of them. Indeed, he'd gone out of his way to piss off the riders of his hometown, finding it all immensely funny.

  It had ceased to be funny the day that Charlie Colcord and his dragon Zorevan saved Jeremy's life.

  It had become something else entirely when, plagued by nightmares that woke him screaming, he'd made his way out to Charlie's private stable and curled up with Zorevan. Zorevan, who was the most universally feared dragon in all of Deadwood Gulch. Possibly all of Noman. Before, even Jeremey had tread warily around him. Until he'd met a creature far more terrifying than an irritable dragon.

  For the two months that Jeremey had been in Charlie's care, he'd spent almost every night in Zorevan's stall, curled up against the dragon's neck, safe in the knowledge that nothing could get him while Zorevan was near. After the first night, once he'd figured out where Jeremey had gone, Charlie had joined them. It wasn't something they ever spoke about, and Jeremey had never felt the slightest desire to tell anyone. It wasn't theirs to know.

  Not that they'd have believed him anyway. Even in Fair Valley, the riders had heard of Sheriff Colcord's nasty-tempered dragon. The stories they told were ridiculous, for the most part, but there were a few that Jeremey knew to be true, and it was the truth in those stories that was responsible for Zorevan's fearsome reputation.

  No, they'd never have believed him, so it was just as well he preferred to keep his secrets to himself. He knew, and Charlie knew, and that was good enough for Jeremey.

  The guard on the watch tower paid him no heed as he approached, though the guard's dragon did, silhouetted by the suns as it peered curiously at Jeremey for a moment before returning its gaze to the skies. It was almost amusing, how the dragons noticed him more than his own species did.

  The thought remained on his mind as he stepped into the stables and almost immediately found himself scrutinized by three sets of dragon eyes. One of them he paid no mind, but the other two were Midnight and Tumbleweed, ridden by Zack Miller and Ben Masterson respectively. Two of the three men who were to be his escort today. That only left Ike and his Fireball, and Jeremey could hear voices around the corner.

  Sure enough, when he rounded it, there was not only Ike, leaning casually against Fireball's flank, but Zack and Ben as well. As usual, it was the dragon that noticed him first, although it didn't take Ike long to realize something had caught his dragon's attention, and he looked over to spot Jeremey.

  "There y'are," Ike drawled. "Still think you're rider material, kid?"

  They didn't believe he could do it. The expressions on their faces made that more than plain. But nothing and no one was going to make him give up. Not now that he was so close. He ignored the taunt and crossed his arms, settling on a simple, "Yes."

  Zack snickered. "Plenty of kids have tried, y'know. Takes more than a few skills with a blaster to tame a dragon."

  Jeremey gave in to impulse and replied in a neutral tone, "I'd say it's pretty obvious that blaster skills don't matter one lick, all things considered."

  It took a minute before Zack got it, and it was probably Ike and Ben's snickers that made it click, but when he did he scowled and stood up straighter. "Smartass brat. Think you're so tough. Won't find it so funny when I kick your ass."

  "Easy," Ben interjected, catching Zack's arm before he could do anything. "Let's just see what happens when we get there."

  For a moment, it seemed as though Zack would argue, but then he turned and stormed off toward his dragon. Ben and Ike watched him go, and then Ben dropped his gaze back down to Jeremey.

  "Might wanna watch your mouth," Ben advised. "Zack's temper ain't real friendly sometimes."

  Jeremey simply shrugged. It wasn't his fault Zack was an ass—but it would somehow wind up his fault if Zack decided to pick a fight. Somehow, it was always his fault. Probably because he almost always won. You'd think they'd have learned not to pick fights with him by now, but apparently people weren't that smart.

  He waited patiently while the three riders saddled their dragons, pretending he couldn't hear when they argued over who was going to get stuck riding with him. It didn't matter because this would be the last time anyone would have to ferry him anywhere. After today, he'd have a dragon of his own.

  Midnight and Fireball finally ambled out of the stable, and Ben offered a hand from atop Tumbleweed's back. Jeremey took it, allowing Ben to haul him up into the saddle, then Tumbleweed started moving and Jeremey had to hang on to Ben lest the uneven gait knock him right off. He could feel Ben chuckle in amusement and had to remind himself yet again that he wouldn't have to put up with it for much longer.

  Tumbleweed made his way out into the sunlight where Midnight and Fireball were waiting. The other two dragons headed out at a sound from their riders, Fireball leading with Midnight following and Tumbleweed bringing up the rear. People greeted them as they passed, exchanging pleasantries, but their pace remained uninterrupted. Jeremey had to give them credit for that, at least. Whatever else they might be, the riders weren't lazy.

  They stopped just inside the town gate, for though the gate was open, there
was a dragon blocking the way out.

  "Sheriff," Ike acknowledged, tipping his hat.

  Jack Sullivan, sheriff of Fair Valley, nodded back. "Ike." His gaze slid over Zack to land on Ben and Jeremey. Nothing in his pale green eyes gave away his thoughts as he regarded them, and not for the first time Jeremey found himself wishing Jack was more like Charlie. With Charlie, you always knew where you stood. He was honest almost to a fault. But Jack Sullivan was the kind of man who could share a beer with his most hated enemy without showing a hint of the animosity between them.

  Finally Jack nodded again. "They're waiting for you," was all he said before his dragon moved forward into the town, leaving the gate clear for them to leave.

  He was tempted to believe that Jack was one of those who didn't want Jeremy to succeed, but the truth was he had no idea what Jack's thoughts were. Figuring out what Sheriff Sullivan was really thinking was about as likely as convincing Deadwood Gulch that he'd slept in Zorevan's stall without getting maimed. Or worse.

  With a slight lurch, they began moving again, single-file out the gate before shifting into a slight V formation, Tumbleweed taking the right flank. They didn't really seem to be in any hurry, given that they weren't even trying to find a bluff high enough to glide from, and the journey across the plains seemed to take forever.

  At least there were no interruptions from the local wildlife. That would have put a serious damper on their plans. But this time of year, the rachya were in hibernation, lycodo didn't like hunting by day, and very few of the other dangers that abounded were stupid enough to take on three dragons.

  Their small party slipped through a narrow passage into a low, wide valley somewhere vaguely northeast of the settlement. It was remarkably lush, perhaps due to its sheltered status, and in the midst of contemplating the greenery, Jeremy suddenly realized that there were dragons. Everywhere.

  Most settlements had ten to fifteen dragons calling them home. Fair Valley, due to its size, usually ranged between twenty-five and thirty. The valley they were in now, however, most likely had no fewer than a hundred. Some of them perched on rocks or ledges, others lounged in the dust or sprawled out on flat stones, while still more could be seen keeping watch high on the cliffs. As their little group rode in, several of the dragons called a greeting, a number of them coming close to investigate.