Quest Of The Dragon Tamer (Book 1) by Cole Pain

mop of unruly brown hair caught the torchlight and cast shadows on his face, making him appear much older than his years.
    Lazo rose from the chair and motioned the boy forward. “Come, Markum. The king of Oldan has joined our cause.”
    Markum barely glanced at Ramie as he placed a book on the table. Ramie started when he saw the silver dragon on the cover. With trepidation he noticed the dragon had blue eyes. He had been avoiding the topic. A silver dragon was concern in itself, but a silver dragon without silver eyes? Ramie shuddered.
    He had heard people whispering about the Collective’s promise of magic. Many were pointing to the silver dragon as a sign of the Collective’s power. Soon, they said, magic would be bestowed on the faithful. Ramie repressed a sudden chill.
    Lazo folded his hands beneath his chin and waited for Markum to speak. Ramie was surprised to see respect in Lazo’s gaze. Behind the third advisor, the twins’ faces held the same reverence. Ramie studied the boy more closely. Although he was slight of stature, and young, Markum did have an aura about him, a certain bewitchment.
    Markum slid the book to Lazo. “Ren’s in trouble.”
    Ramie almost laughed. Ren was in the dungeon, scheduled for execution, and Markum thought he was in trouble? But when Lazo leaned forward, contrasting eyes, one blue, the other green, intensely focused, Ramie held his tongue.
    Markum tapped the book. “The dragon was a test. Ren passed. He’s the Dragon Tamer.”
    “And what does that mean, Markum?”
    “You saw the silver dragon’s eyes?”
    Lazo rubbed his pointy beard. “They were blue.”
    “The legend is true, Lazo. When the dragon hunters bring in the silver dragon magic will be reborn.”
    Fraul’s gray eyebrows furrowed with worry. “But how is that possible?”
    Markum motioned to the book. “The love of the Dragon Tamer.”

Chapter 3
    Markum ran through the forest, not bothering to dodge the branches that slapped his skin. The snarl of the huge two-headed wolf behind him spurred him faster. He had no weapon, only the lone book he clutched in his hand. He knew it held the secret he needed to defeat the beast, if only he could stop to read it.
    Wolven were one of the most feared magical creatures of all time. Swords were useless against them, for with every cut the wolven became stronger. And if you severed one, two more would form. Not that Markum knew how to use a sword anyway. He was a librarian, not a soldier.
    He broke through the surrounding trees and surveyed the clearing with a quick glance. A lake sat directly before him, to the left jagged cliffs dropped to a chasm below, and to the right large boulders obstructed any kind of escape.
    Markum jumped into the chilly water, the beast right at his heels. He plunged deeper, arms flailing, praying he could find more strength, but he knew he couldn’t swim fast enough. He swallowed water. His lungs burned. Fire whipped through him as he gasped for air. He clutched his throat, waiting for the inevitable.
    His lungs filled with water, but instead of choking he relaxed. Shocked, he realized he was breathing water as if it were air. Markum turned to see a man floating beside him, long black hair reaching to the surface like a plant hungry for sun. His eyes held the knowledge of centuries. They peered into Markum’s soul, analyzing his abilities with a mere glance. Markum didn’t know which to fear more, the two-headed wolf or the man. The man seized Markum’s arm and held him fast as the wolf swam closer. Markum tried to pull away but the man’s grip was too strong. Closing his eyes, he screamed.
    And jerked awake.
    The torches surrounding the library were almost burnt through. The advisors sat across from him, absorbed in the prophecy Markum had discovered. Lazo looked up from the eerie words, concern in his contrasting eyes. Michel cocked his head to one side, listening as the silence in the castle deepened.
    A dragon’s roar sounded in the