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“Oh, not at all. Pilgrimages tend to be a solo endeavor with singular consequences. But it’s a great deal more effort. The resulting dragon is more powerful, however—and as such, it’s discouraged.”
“More powerful how?” I frowned, as even dragon-kin could develop strong enough powers. My ability to read the wounds of others, a trait of purple dragons, had woken on its own. I’d been five, my father had scraped his knee on his way home from work, and I’d done my best to bandage it.
He’d fallen preventing a woman from taking a spill. I’d captured a brief hint of his worry that if she fell, the baby she held would be hurt.
Being a child, I had asked if the baby had escaped without a boo-boo. I’d startled my father, and then I’d worried him.
My draconic nature shouldn’t have stirred so young, and he’d praised me for caring but had made me promise to never tell a soul what I saw or felt or how I’d come to inherit my magic.
I’d kept that promise, and as such, I had been condemned as a necromancer.
“They’re advanced, have more access to the magic of their color, and have stronger magic. It’s a great deal more work,” the dragon-kin answered before drumming his fingers on the table. “Most choose against making the effort, as there’s too much risk.”
“That tracks. Those who do things the easy way do not reap the rewards. But do the dragons stop those who try to do this pilgrimage?”
“No, but that is only because very few actually succeed—or they stop once they have awoken sufficient power as a dragon-kin. Some don’t want to take on the rest of the risks after getting some of the reward.” Cedrick glanced at the door, and then he shrugged. “Pilgrimages are simple yet difficult. It begins with the various temples of the dragons. If a dragon-kin, the pilgrim must visit the shrines of every dragon in his or her heritage. If a human, the pilgrim will go to the shrine of their preferred color. The pilgrimage then begins with the equivalent of prayer. The sites are rather magical in nature. There have been instances of accidental pilgrims, too.”
“Wait. So, I could just visit one of these shrines and start a pilgrimage?”
“That’s correct. But visually, nobody would be aware you have undertaken the pilgrimage. The next step is personal. You must obtain an object of personal importance and sacrifice it at the shrine. That’s usually when pilgrims are identified. There are dragons monitoring the shrines for obvious sacrifices.” Cedrick smirked. “Of course, there are ways to handle the sacrifice in secret. Wise pilgrims will keep their sacrifice in their pocket and pretend to be a tourist or photographer.”
I snorted, as I couldn’t afford a camera even if I wanted one, and I hadn’t owned a cell phone since leaving Miami.
While many living in Dragon Heights enjoyed their technology and creature comforts, things like cars and phones tended to be of little importance to beings who could fly at their whim. Add in the psionic abilities of fully fledged dragons, and most didn’t bother joining the rest of the world when it came to modernization.
Considering how many were dragon-kin or aspired to become dragons, most forms of technology had made way for magic.
I wondered how long Miami would last when it strived to erase anything magical. When I’d been a detective, I’d worked cases involving magic and mundane weapons. I’d done my job well.
I’d just been too accurate, too driven to solve the crimes assigned to me, and too determined to allow someone to get away with murder when I could prove who had done it.
Nowadays, I cursed my family line, which had every color of dragon known to exist, although the curse of my purple ancestors had cost me everything of value.
As far as I was concerned, I’d already sacrificed.
I saw no need to go on a pilgrimage and lose even more.
I snorted, mostly at myself but a little at the absurdity of Cedrick teaching me how I might become a dragon. “I have no desire to become a dragon, although I’m now curious about the shrines.”
“I wouldn’t go. Not right now. It’s not safe. Someone’s been targeting people going to the shrines.”
The part of me I’d believed to be dead and gone stirred. “Someone is murdering possible pilgrims?”
Cedrick winced. “Yes.”
I stared at him. “Do you know what I was before I came to Dragon Heights?”
With a raised brow, he shook his head. “Nobody knows. You’ve never spoken a word of your life before Dragon Heights. As far as we know, you popped out of the ground, fully formed and ready to vex us with your mystery.” A smile made an appearance. “Dragons and their kin do love a good mystery.”
I joined him in smiling. “Let’s play a game, then. If I win, you’ll owe me a favor. If you win, I’ll owe you a favor.”
“There’s little dragons like more than gold, and that is favors,” he warned. “And we always charge a premium for favors.”
“Then you should have no problems playing my game. You might win a favor.”
“Tell me about the game first.”
“You have three tries to guess what I was before coming to Dragon Heights.”