Rise of the Dragons, Page 3

  “Joss!” Allie gasped. “That must mean …”

  “That we’ve Locked!” Joss finished her sentence for her. “And now we’ll be partners forever. And we’ll live together and do stuff together and …” Joss broke off and looked at his sister properly for the first time. “Allie,” he said, suddenly quiet and serious, “it’s my dream come true.”

  Stunned, Allie lowered the breakfast basket and sat down on the steps of the shepherd’s hut. Dragons were never good news in their family. “Joss,” she said, matching his serious tone, “you do remember what happened to Great Aunt Ettie?”

  Joss looked up, puzzled. “Uh?” he said.

  “Oh, come on, Joss,” Allie said, “you know perfectly well what happened. Ettie got snatched by the Lennixes to serve the Raptors. And then she had the nerve to Lock with their Grand. With Bellacrux. And Bellacrux killed her. Joss, that dragon killed her own Lock.”

  Joss was defiant. “What are you saying, Allie? Lysander would never do that. Never.”

  “I hope not, but you have no idea what Lysander will be like when he grows up. He’s not exactly a normal dragon, is he—who knows what Silvers are like? And I suppose you haven’t even thought about the Zolls?”

  Joss groaned. “Why do you have to spoil everything by mentioning them?”

  “The Zolls won’t go away just because we don’t mention them, Joss,” Allie told him. “What do you think they’re going to do when they find a silver dragon on their land, huh?”

  Joss shrugged.

  “I’ll tell you what they’ll do. For a start they’ll take him for themselves. And then, because he’s silver, I expect Madam Zoll will sell him for a nice bag of money. For lots of bags of money.”

  Joss looked devastated and Allie at once felt guilty. “I’m sorry, Joss,” she said. “But this is serious. We have to make a plan about what to do.”

  Joss wished Allie would let things be. He just wanted to enjoy the magic of having a baby silver dragon here in his hut, right now. “I know we’ll have to think of something,” he admitted. “But Allie, first come and meet Lysander. Please?”

  Allie stepped into the dimness of the shepherd’s hut and went over to the curled-up ball of silver lying on the straw. The little dragon, tired after the struggle to get out of his egg, had fallen asleep. “Isn’t he beautiful?” Joss whispered, gazing at Lysander with the doting expression of a new mother.

  Allie nodded. She looked at the small creature shining so bright that it was hard to believe he was not made of metal. She watched the rise and fall of the dragon’s little fat stomach and saw his soft, furled wings. He was utterly beautiful and seemed so very vulnerable. I’ve never seen trouble look so sweet, Allie thought. And then, trying to shrug away her worries, she said, “Hey, Joss. I brought your breakfast basket. It’s outside if you want it.”

  Suddenly Joss realized he was hungry. “Oh, yes, please,” he said.

  They sat on the steps and while Joss ate, Allie gazed up at the tall stones that encircled them like sentinels protecting them from harm. Which, she thought, Joss and Lysander are surely going to need. Joss insisted Allie share the precious fruit loaf with him, and when they had finished, he put his arm around his sister’s shoulders. “Hey, don’t look so worried,” he said. “I won’t be like Ettie, you know.”

  Allie looked somberly at Joss. “Jossie, it’s the Zolls I’m worried about.”

  “Well, don’t worry. We’ll think of something.”

  “I hope so,” Allie said. But what it could possibly be, she had no idea.

  From her watchtower D’Mara Lennix peered through her night spyglass at the returning flight. Her heart beating fast with anticipation, she began to count the Raptors back in. To her delight, she saw that each one carried an egg in its talons, although they were too far away to tell the color. Too excited to wait a moment longer, D’Mara hurried down to the landing yard to direct operations. She was not going to allow anyone to mess up this most momentous of landings.

  The yard was buzzing with excitement. Three of her four children were there: fourteen-year-old twins Tamra and Mirra, and their older brother, sixteen-year-old Declan, all stood in the center of the orange landing cross. They were holding a large net between them, waiting to assist the dragons as they landed. Kaan, their younger brother, had not shown up.

  Anxiously, D’Mara hurried over. Landing with an egg gripped by the feet was a tricky maneuver for a dragon and required human assistance. The egg had to be dropped to a safe place; otherwise it would be smashed by the weight of the dragon touching down. However, it was important for the dragon to come in as low as possible to avoid what was known as egg-shock, where the embryo sac was ruptured and its occupant often died.

  It was a tense moment as the stolen clutch of the Greens approached the landing area in Fortress Lennix. Decimus came in first. He slowed to a hover above the landing yard and Edward leaned out and yelled at his son, “Declan! Get on the blasted cross! Right now! We’re coming in!”

  Declan felt annoyed. He had been waiting on the center of the cross for the last ten minutes until, just as the flight drew in overhead, his stupid sisters had pulled the net away. He knew they had planned it so that, as ever, he got the blame. Irritably, Declan pulled the net and his twin sisters back into position. He looked up and saw the huge white expanse of Decimus’s belly and its scarred trident tattoo immediately above. He felt the powerful downdraft from the wings and saw clasped in the dragon’s thick yellow, curved talons a large, shimmering green egg. “Hold it tight!” he yelled at his sisters, and then he bellowed upward, “Drop! Drop!”

  Decimus, an old warhorse of a dragon, did not like being shouted at by a youngster. He would drop the egg when he was ready and not before.

  “Drop!” Declan yelled once more. “Drop now!”

  Lennix, tell that cub of yours to shut it, will you? Decimus’s irritable growl snapped into Edward’s head.

  “Quiet, Declan!” Edward yelled down.

  Declan scowled. He was only doing his job.

  Decimus let go of the egg. It fell just off center into the net, which to Declan’s relief was held at the perfect tension—not so tight that the egg rolled off and not so loose that it hit the ground.

  “It’s just a green,” Declan heard his mother say, disappointed. “Give it to them.” She waved her hand to indicate the anxiously waiting Roost assistants, immaculate in their white Roost uniforms. They took the egg and carried it carefully to a long box of straw awaiting the clutch at the edge of the yard.

  As Decimus flew off to land elsewhere in the yard, the next Raptor came in for the drop and the siblings prepared themselves once more. D’Mara watched her children with something verging on approval. After the fifth successful drop, she walked over to the egg box to peruse the spoils and to try to quell her anxiety. She noted that the first egg that had come in was by far the largest. Very probably the next Green Grand, she reckoned. Normally such a catch would thrill her, but a feeling of unease was creeping over her. Where was the Silver? D’Mara became aware of brisk footsteps, and turned to see Edward approaching, his foxy little mustache quivering with excitement. Her heart soared with relief. It was clearly good news.

  “We dug them all out,” Edward told her excitedly. “Every single one. Cleared out the place. Scraped the nest clean. We’re going to get a fine crop of green Raptors, I can tell you.” He laughed. “And I think you might also find we got the certain something you were after.”

  D’Mara seized hold of Edward’s hands, her eyes glittering so bright that they made Edward think of shards of black glass. “You found a Silver! I knew it, I knew it!”

  “It wasn’t easy,” Edward said. “The Greens put up a fierce fight, but they didn’t stand a chance. That’s their entire clutch gone, D’Mara. Totally wiped out.”

  “Oh, who cares about the Greens,” D’Mara snapped. “They’re nothing more than a pile of namby-pamby mud grubbers.” She turned back to the landings and squinted up into th
e morning brightness. “But what about the Silver? Where is it?”

  “Be patient, D’Mara,” Edward said. “It was right at the bottom of the nest. Funny-looking thing it was, all covered in dragon dirt. That young Blue took it—what’s his name now? The fast one … Ramon, that’s it. He was the last in the flight.”

  D’Mara’s face went white. “Are you telling me that you left the most precious egg of all to the youngest, most inexperienced Raptor?”

  “Ramon may be young, D’Mara, but he’s a fine Raptor,” Edward returned snappily. “Aha, look, he’s just coming in now.”

  D’Mara and Edward watched the last member of the flight swoop down toward the orange landing cross and saw Declan and the twins hurriedly drop the net and get out of the way. Their egg-catching skills were no longer needed—for there was no egg to catch.

  D’Mara swore and wheeled around to face Edward. “Where,” she demanded, “is my Silver egg?”

  Edward stared at the Blue, who had landed and was looking around uncertainly. “I—I don’t understand,” he stammered. “I saw him take the Silver. I saw him.”

  D’Mara stared at her consort through narrowed eyes. “You saw nothing of the kind, you slick of dragon slime,” she hissed. “You spineless little liar.”

  “But I did, D’Mara. Ramon got it; I swear he did.”

  D’Mara saw Edward’s bafflement and she knew her consort well enough to believe him. “Well then, Edward,” she said, drawing her sharp little filleting knife from its sheath, “that Blue of yours will just have to tell us what he did with the egg, won’t he?” And with that she marched away across the courtyard, sparks flying from her metal-tipped heels. She stopped in front of Ramon. “Where’s the egg?” she yelled.

  Silence fell in the landing yard. The Raptors of the First Flight, who were heading toward their quarters, swung around to watch.

  Ramon stared at D’Mara and her knife in shock. He tried to speak, but the soft lilt of dragonsong dried in his throat, and he sent a frantic look at Decimus. “You will tell me what you have done with my egg,” D’Mara said in a low voice so full of threat that it sent shivers down Edward’s spine. “You will tell me now or I will fillet out your scales one by one.”

  The watching Raptors exchanged shocked glances and Decimus huffed a warning at D’Mara: Senior member of the Lennix clan she may be, but this was no way to treat a Raptor, let alone a member of the First Flight.

  “Mother, please!” Declan said, with an anxious look at the dragons around him. “You can’t do this. Let me talk to Ramon first. You will get no sense from him with a knife.”

  D’Mara rounded on her son. “You’re too soft, Declan. You’ll never be respected with that attitude.”

  Edward put a restraining hand on D’Mara’s arm but she shook him off. “Let Declan try first, my love,” he insisted. “We’ll put the Blue in the dungeon and Declan can talk with him. Then, if he gets nowhere, you can have as much time as you wish down there.” He lowered his voice. “The Raptors don’t like it, you know.”

  D’Mara looked around. She saw the glittering yellow and green eyes of the Raptors focused on her like a battery of guns, and only now did she notice the dragons’ low and angry hissing. Reluctantly, she stepped away. “Make him tell you everything,” she told Declan. “You’ve got an hour.”

  Declan led Ramon away before D’Mara had a chance to change her mind. The watching Raptors parted silently to let them through and then trooped back to their chambers, still muttering among themselves. Two of Ramon’s friends went to find Valkea: This was something she would want to know.

  It wasn’t long until Declan ran into his mother’s room at the top of the watchtower. “Well?” demanded D’Mara.

  “He dropped it on the low hills near the Zoll compound. By the stone circle. He thought the egg was a rock.”

  D’Mara thumped her fist down onto her ebony desk. “Idiot dragon.” She turned to Edward. “I blame you. You did not brief the flight properly. I want that egg back. And I want it now.”

  Edward was furious with himself. He had given D’Mara his word that he would bring back her precious Silver egg and he had not kept it. He knew she was right—Decimus should have been entrusted with it, but Edward was not going to give D’Mara the satisfaction of admitting to that. He answered curtly, “Decimus and I will go at dusk and pick it up.”

  “Dusk!” D’Mara was aghast. “Why not now?”

  “Because I don’t want that nosy Zoll man watching us from his tower, that’s why,” Edward replied.

  “What does it matter whether he watches us or not?” D’Mara scoffed. “Zoll’s nothing but a mere tenant.”

  “He may be our tenant but he does have a claim to what falls onto his land,” Edward countered. “And I’d rather keep good relations with him, if you don’t mind, D’Mara.”

  D’Mara did mind, but without a dragon to fly, she knew she had little choice in the matter. She must allow Edward to do it his way. “Very well, Edward,” she said. “But I expect that Silver egg back here tonight. You do realize how important this is to us, don’t you?”

  Edward shrugged.

  “Edward, the Raptors are getting restless. You very well know that humans are much less easy to source nowadays. As it is, we really don’t have enough to give our Raptors the maintenance they require, and how we are going to cope with this new influx of eggs I really do not know. There is trouble brewing, mark my words.”

  “It doesn’t help you threatening to torture one of them!” Edward pointed out.

  D’Mara flushed. “I’ve disciplined Raptors before, Edward.”

  “Yes, but not like that. And not without consulting the senior Raptors.”

  “We’re walking a tightrope,” D’Mara said. “If we look weak they’ll turn on us, and we can’t let negligence go unpunished. And that idiot Blue lost the Silver, Edward. It dropped the very thing that could get our Raptors’ loyalty back.”

  Edward laughed. “Why? Do they like silver trinkets too, D’Mara?”

  With great difficulty, D’Mara restrained herself from punching Edward’s smug face. She contented herself with leaning toward him and watching him flinch away. “Do I have to spell it out for you?” she hissed. “The Silver will give us access to the Lost Lands—a whole new world. We can take what we want from there. We can give our Raptors everything they require and more. That will seal their loyalty forever.”

  Shocked, Edward stared at D’Mara. “You don’t really believe all that rubbish about the Lost Lands, do you?” he asked.

  “It is not rubbish,” D’Mara told him angrily. “I’m telling you, Edward, if you don’t get that Silver, this time next year there won’t be a Lennix family here. Fortress Lennix will be run by Raptors and we’ll be a pile of bones in the poop pit.” And with that she strode off, leaving her husband scowling after her.

  There was no doubt about it, Edward thought; D’Mara was losing her grip on reality. The Raptors were perfectly fine, or would be if she would only show them proper respect and stop pulling idiot stunts like she had tonight. Besides, Decimus would have told him if there was any real trouble stirring. It was just an excuse to get hold of a Silver egg. He wandered over to the edge of the yard and stared gloomily out at the mountains. He wished they’d never found the stupid thing in the first place.

  All day, Joss kept his flock close to the fold so he could be near Lysander. He divided his time between checking on the little dragon—who slept like the baby he was—and collecting every fragment of the egg case and putting it in the hut. Joss knew that a hatchling needed to eat its own egg case to give strength to its bones, and he was determined that Lysander should have the best start in life possible.

  It was a wonderfully sunny day and Joss savored every minute. Sitting on the short, springy turf watching the sheep, he took out an apple saved from the breakfast basket. He looked at it longingly, and then decided to keep it for Lysander. To stave off the hunger pangs, Joss lay back and gazed up at the puffy
white clouds drifting across the sky. Surrounded by the soporific sound of sheep nibbling the grass, his eyes slowly closed, and as he drifted into a doze, Joss had the strangest sensation that he actually was Lysander. He could feel the rough floor of the hut, the curl of his tail tucked under his head, the scratchiness of the sheep-smelling blanket on his soft, smooth scales. The day passed slowly, and at last, as the sun dropped toward its evening horizon, Joss herded his sheep back into their pen. Then, stepping through the lengthening shadows, he made his way across the circle toward the hut.

  Inside the hut, Lysander knew his Lock was near. Excited to be close to Joss once again, the dragon sat up and waited for the door to open. But on the other side of the door, Joss stopped. Allie’s warning words came back to him and he felt suddenly afraid. Suppose Madam Zoll had come nosing around while he was putting the sheep away? Suppose she had found Lysander and taken him away? But as he stood there a voice came into his head: Hey, Joss. Can we play now? Please, please can we?

  Joss laughed, pushed open the door, and a small silver ball of energy hurled itself at him. He scooped Lysander up into his arms and then sat with him on the step playing count-my-claws and pull-my-tail. As the sun began to drop down behind the western hills, Joss decided to let Lysander run free—it would be dusk soon, and Madam Zoll never ventured out after dark. He set Lysander down on the grass and watched as the little dragon raced through the stone arches, moving so fast that he seemed to be no more than a flash of silver light. Like quicksilver, Joss thought. And that wasn’t the only thing about Lysander that was quick—he was growing fast too. Already he was considerably bigger than he had been that morning.

  Joss reached into his pocket for the apple he had saved and sent a message over to his Lock. Hey, Lysander! There’s an apple here.

  Lysander came bounding over, took the apple, and ran off with it. A message came through to Joss: Can’t catch me!