Entry 2: The Dragoneer
Genre: Adult Fantasy
Query
For twenty years, Keire Salazar has fought wars from[MH1] the backs of dragons enhanced with metallic forelimbs and permanent armor. She lives for the fight, and every day is a good day to die[EC1].
But when a crash kills her crew and leaves Keire with a twisted knee and half a hand, she faces a greater terror: discharge and civilian life. Smothering her grief, she jumps at the chance (figuratively, of course, since her bad leg won’t let her do more than limp) to prove she can still fight, when she is assigned[MH2] to the crew of Alvaric Andressa, a captain with a burning anger at the world and a deep love for his dragon. Their mission is to bring down the enemy’s most dangerous dragon, Crocodile[EC2]. Success means Keire’s redemption. Failure means discharge.
What Keire quickly realizes, though, is that[EC3] they were never meant to succeed. Andressa is disgraced, and the upper brass want him dead. Keire and the rest of the misfit crew were selected precisely because they are expendable liabilities[EC4]
For Keire, civilian life is the antithesis of her identity, a torture on top of the daily pain her injuries bring. It means losing her sense of self and facing her grief. But continuing after Crocodile means fighting on behalf of people who want Keire dead, with a crew Keire doesn’t trust, and a high likelihood that Keire herself will be the one to get them killed[MH3].
As Keire always says, it’s a good day to die.[MH4]
THE DRAGONEER (116,000 words) is a military fantasy where Naomi Novik’s Temeraire series meets Robyn Bennis’s The Guns Above[EC5].
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[MH4] I'd cut this line.
First 250 Words
The cannons boomed like a distant lullaby.
“A good day to fly,” said Ordego.
“A good day to die,” replied Keire, as she always did.
Ordego snorted. “Ever the motivator.”
At least he didn’t seem to be holding last night against her. Maybe in the predawn light that caressed the surrounding scrubland, his argument seemed less relevant. Weaker in the face of the upcoming fight[MH5]. Keire shrugged, checking that her harness was snug over her jacket. Her revolver rested secure in its holster on her hip, her knife in a sheath on her calf, and her rifle on a strap across her back. Spare ammunition sat in a pouch at her waist. The pressure of the various straps was the embrace of an old friend.
“If you’re gonna go,” Keire said, “would you rather have it any other way?”
“Aged hundred and five. In my seaside mansion. Servants waiting upon my every need.”
“You know you’d beg me to shoot you long before then.”
“But I can dream. It’s better than thinking about this shit war.”
That was where they differed, Keire and Ordego. She dreamed of nothing else[MH6].
The fifteen dragons of the squadron crouched in the brush around them, forty-foot beasts of scale and steel. None so much as twitched, like any good enhanced dragon. Keire and Ordego’s dragon, Vanquish, rested closest, head held above metal forelimbs[MH7]. To the south, the river crawled along silent and brown[MH8][EC6].
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