Rise of the Dragon Moon Page 15

  Petal reached toward Toli and took her hand.”Maybe we can still save Mother.”

  “And Ruby.” Wix sighed.

  Toli didn’t answer. She wanted to believe it, and not only for her own sake, but her body felt heavy, as if her fears were stores, piling up inside her. Ruby climbed up to her shoulder and rubbed the top of her head against Toli’s cheek. “Don’t worry,” Toli whispered as she stroked the dragon’s head. “I’m taking you home. Your mother will know what to do.”

  “What Krala said … about people in the South…” Petal began.

  Wix shook his head. “That can’t be true. Can it?”

  “Of course not,” Toli snapped. “She’s just trying to confuse us. She wants us to doubt ourselves—to doubt everything. She can’t be trusted.”

  “Then why did their queen take Mother?”

  Toli didn’t have an answer.

  Just stay alive, she told herself. That’s what Spar would do. She didn’t dare think about what might happen after that. She tucked the hood of her cloak around the little dragon. Ruby lay, still as death, across her shoulders, but though her scales were cold, Toli knew the little dragon hung on to life. She could feel the beating of the Ruby’s heart against her skin. Her throat tightened. She couldn’t drive the foxes any faster.

  The landscape continued as it had begun, ice upon ice, wind following wind. Even the sky varied little, despite the dancing of the lights. It all blurred together, as if the sled were caught on a pin, the foxes running and running, but getting nowhere.

  The stars brightened as Nya began to set again. The whole bowl of the sky was filled with streaks of aurora light, all leading toward the wall of glacier, and beside it, the peaked silhouette of Dragon Mountain taking up the sky ahead of them.

  Father Moon glowered at her, watching from his resting place on top of the Mountain. At last, in the dim light, a dark spot grew against the wall of ice—the entrance to the pass. As they drew closer and the pass gaped wide ahead of them, the feeling that something was wrong settled in Toli’s guts, twisting and growing as they approached.

  The foxes slowed, chattering nervously.

  “Whoa,” Wix said, leaning over the side of the sled. “Stop the sled!”

  Toli pulled on the reins until the sled glided to a stop. “What is it?”

  Petal peered over Wix’s shoulder.

  Under the black ice, she could see strange shining orbs. They hung suspended, some small, others almost as large as the sled itself. Farther off she could see stacks of them under the ice, as though they were in a queue, waiting their turn to reach the surface.

  Petal frowned. “They look … they look like bubbles.”

  Toli stepped out, walked over to the nearest stack of orbs, and leaned down to peer closer.

  Wix shot her a worried look. “Why do you think Spar told everyone to stay away from here?”

  The hair on Toli’s arms rose. Low mist hurried past, wrapping around her ankles. Rising curls licked at the foxes’ bellies. Her fingers slid over the dragon scales along the edge of her cloak. Spar had acted so strange the last time Toli had seen her. The thought made her chest ache. She pushed it out of her head.

  “We need to hurry,” Toli said. “If Krala has her way, there will be dragons coming for us.”

  Wix moved to stand by Toli’s side. He squinted, pointing out across the ice. “What is that?”

  Some kind of large blur moved toward them across the ice. “I—I don’t know, but I’m not sure we should wait around to find out.”

  A roar echoed across the ice, and Toli caught a glimpse of light reflecting off long white fangs. She grabbed Wix’s arm, tugging him toward the sled. “Come on!”

  “What—”

  “Bear-cat. It’s a bear-cat. Nya’s bear-cat.”

  She heard Wix’s breath catch; then they were running for the sled. “It must have smelled our food,” she gasped as they clambered in.

  “Hailfire! From that distance?”

  Petal stared at them. “What’s going on?”

  “Go!” Wix shouted. “Go!”

  Toli leaped over her sister into the front of the sled and slapped the reins. The foxes, already straining to run, jumped forward. Petal lurched backward, almost toppling off her bench as they shot ahead.

  Toli could see the bear-cat behind them now. Huge and white, with gray-white stripes, it had a thick mane and a long tufted tail that whipped back and forth as it raced along the ice, gathering speed. Bear-cats were five feet tall on all fours, with high, muscled shoulders that sloped down to their haunches, and by all accounts were made of nearly equal parts rage and hunger.

  It was catching up.

  “Toli?” Petal called to her, her voice tight.

  “I know!”

  Toli dropped the reins and hung on. The foxes could smell the nearness of the predator and were running hard without any encouragement from her. She reached down into the belly of the sled and lifted her bow. Ruby stirred where she slept under the furs.

  Wix gave Toli a nod and grabbed his bow too.

  The bear-cat tore the ice as it ran, kicking up shards. It was getting closer. Its huge tongue lolled from its muzzle full of sharp teeth.

  Carefully, Toli rose to stand.

  And then they were in the pass.

  Dark blue gloom surrounded them. A roar echoed through the wide tunnel as Toli let the arrow fly. It disappeared into the distance. Hailfire.

  The bear-cat roared again.

  An answering roar echoed from somewhere ahead of them.

  Petal screamed as a second bear-cat leaped at Toli from above, its body skimming past, so close she could smell the thick, musky scent of its fur. It turned, racing alongside the other.

  Wix fired. His arrow struck the new attacker’s shoulder. It let out a roar and put on a burst of speed. It was only a few feet from the sled.

  Ruby climbed onto the bench, launching herself up to Toli’s shoulder, as the foxes, screaming now in panic, raced ahead.

  Toli widened her stance and grabbed the reins again with one hand, yanking them back to keep the sled from toppling. They surged past a second smaller tunnel, and a third bear-cat charged from within its depths.

  Petal cried out as Wix fired again, this time hitting the third one in the chest. It slowed, but the first one let out a roar and surged forward. Its jaws latched on the arching tail of the sled.

  They began to careen sideways.

  Petal, with a roar of her own, spun and brought down a beater on the bear-cat’s head, splintering the pole.

  It released them and fell back, shaking its head and stumbling.

  “Yes, Petal!” Wix shouted.

  “Two down!” Toli barked. It was all she could do to keep the sled upright. In front, the foxes yipped with fear as they knocked together, with several on the outside being lifted off their feet as they rounded another bend.

  Toli and Wix toppled sideways. Toli caught the side of the sled and grabbed Wix as he launched toward the edge, dragging him back. Petal slid into the belly of the sled, clinging to the bench.

  Ruby shot into the air with a cry of rage.

  Toli saw the flash of the bear-cat’s black eyes, but if it slowed at all, she couldn’t tell.

  Ruby swooped toward it, and Toli’s heart flew into her throat.

  “Ruby!” Petal cried.

  The bear-cat slowed to snap its jaws as the dragon dived at it, missing. Ruby came back around, and as she passed, the bear-cat shot straight up into the air in a leap that put it high above the sled—far enough for Toli to see its huge clawed paws.

  Ruby veered away at the last moment, slashing with her talons as she passed. The bear-cat’s jaws snapped shut and came away with a feather. Its shoulder was bleeding, and the jump had slowed it down, but it was still coming, tearing at the ice as it ran.

  Ruby landed next to Toli. Her red scales had dulled and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.

  Toli reached out, but with a cry the dragon launch
ed herself up again, this time aiming directly for the bear-cat.

  “Ruby!” Toli lifted her bow and fired. The arrow shot forward to meet the one already in the bear-cat’s shoulder.

  Ruby coughed a swath of flame that singed the bear-cat down one side. It slowed, falling behind.

  The foxes began to tire.

  The sled slowed too.

  Then they were out of the tunnel, back under the dancing lights. Toli looked up and saw Dragon Mountain looming above them. They were so close.

  Ruby dived back toward the sled, crashing at Toli’s feet and knocking her down. She grabbed the dragon and pulled her close, breathing hard. “You’re okay,” Toli said. “I’ve got you.” She looked back. “You did it, Ruby. It’s falling behind.”

  “Friend,” Ruby rustled.

  A loud boom sounded from the ice, echoing through the miles of empty sky. The bear-cat slid to a stop. So did the sled.

  Toli stopped breathing.

  “Toli,” Petal whispered, reaching forward to grasp her hand. “What was that?”

  Knocking echoed below them, and the bear-cat began backing up. It lifted its paws as if it were trying not to touch anything, then spun away, slinking back off into the dark tunnel.

  Toli and Wix looked at each other. She swallowed. “What—”

  He shook his head. “No idea.”

  She rose to her feet, still cradling Ruby. “Let’s get out of here,” she said, snapping the reins.

  The foxes pulled away. In Nya’s dim light the strange orbs under the ice doubled in number. On the horizon, Toli could see dark lines, twisted trees rising from the ice. There, the ground sloped upward. The foothills of Dragon Mountain. They were almost there.

  Ruby climbed down and slid to the edge of the sled. Toli watched as the dragon slowly closed her eyes—and vomited black bile onto the ice.

  To birth a man or beast from a block of ice is simple. You only need to know the secret.

  Listen closely. The ice is like us. It sings before it breaks.

  —Belgar Walerian

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Toli reached for Ruby and held her close. Her scales were dull and cool to the touch. “Hang on, Ruby,” she whispered into her feathers. “You’re almost home.” She pulled the little dragon closer to the warmth of her body. “Friend,” Toli said softy. Had she imagined the flash of a golden eye opening a crack?

  Toli startled as Wix yelled for her to stop the sled. Toli shot him a puzzled look and pulled back on the reins. Then she heard it too. A thumping sound—a deep boom echoing from somewhere below the ice had started again. She could feel it vibrating through the bottom of the sled and into her feet. “What is that?” Toli asked as she settled Ruby in some furs and stepped out.

  The strange echoing thumps knocked again. Petal rose from her seat, clutching her shell, the Memory of the Sea. “There’s a high sound too,” she frowned. “Listen. It’s like singing.”

  Wix nodded. “It reminds me of when the carvers calve off a block of ice.” He paused, his eyes widening. “Toli. Get back in the sled.”

  Petal leaned out. “Look—those orb things are moving.”

  Toli grinned, her relief over escaping the bear-cats making her giddy. “Really? Where?” She moved toward where Petal was pointing. A glimmering orb lingered just under the surface.

  “I think you should come back now, Toli.” Wix reached toward Petal. “Hand Ruby to me.”

  Toli followed the orb as it rolled along, shimmering and shifting beneath her feet as if it were searching for something. She tilted her head. “I hear it too. It’s like the ice is talking to us.”

  The knocking grew stronger.

  Petal draped Ruby over Wix’s shoulders and started to climb out of the sled. Wix held her back, his voice urgent. “Hurry, Toli. Please! Come back.”

  “It’s fine, Wix. I’ll be there in a minute. I just want to figure out where it’s going.” She had been tired and scared for so long, it was freeing to be confronted with a mystery that wasn’t dangerous or deadly. She walked a little farther, past the sled, following the orb as it moved under the ice. “Where is it going?” she asked with a child’s small, delighted laugh.

  The thumping had stopped, and the chorus of creaking had broken into a strange series of mismatched melodies. She smiled back at her sister.

  Wix’s jaw was tight as he watched her. “Toli—”

  “You’re right, Petal. It is like a song.”

  The ice gave a single, grating creak and split wide, and the world vanished.

  Cold water hit Toli like a blow. Her body seized. Her chest squeezed. From within the frigid black, she heard Petal scream.

  Seconds passed like lifetimes as Toli struggled toward the surface. It was so dark, she didn’t know her eyes were open until she saw Petal’s hands reaching for her from the hole she had fallen through.

  She grabbed them.

  Petal, lying across the surface of the ice on her stomach, hauled her out onto the bright ice, scuttling them backward.

  As they lay there panting, bright cracks split the ice beneath them.

  Petal cried out and grabbed Toli tighter. Toli, her whole body shaking with cold, noticed the rope around Petal’s waist just as her sister began sliding backward with Toli in tow.

  Wix was reeling them in to safety. Toli had just enough time to admire their quick thinking before a jagged crack tore across the ice under the sled, and the whole sled vanished in front of her eyes, pulling Wix, Ruby, and four of the foxes down into the black.

  “No!” Toli cried.

  The lead foxes scrambled to find purchase, screaming in terror.

  The world went silent around her. Toli drew her knife and cut the rope that tied her and Petal to the sled; then she was on her feet, diving forward, cutting the line that tied the harnesses to the sled. Half the foxes got their footing and ran across the ice, disappearing into the fog.

  Only seconds had passed.

  Toli scoured the water where the sled had disappeared for signs of Wix and Ruby. The ice heaved underneath her.

  Toli stumbled back as Petal screamed her name. And the sled rose, its dragon figurehead cracking through the ice in front of her. It bobbed upward, spilling water out over the surface of the ice, the water crackling and hissing as it froze.

  Wix came up in it, gripping the side of the sled with one arm and a silent Ruby with the other. Toli took her first real breath. The sled floated in dark water surrounded by ice.

  The foxes that had fallen through followed, still tied together, clawing at the edges of the ice. Toli threw herself forward, catching hold of the reins as the top half of her body submerged. She hauled the foxes out one at a time, taking huge swallows of air each time she surfaced again. Their claws scratched at her and at the ice in desperate gouges.

  Her arms grew heavy and numb with cold. When she’d gotten the last fox up onto the ice, her arms refused to hold her weight. She scrabbled at the edges of the ice, trying to pull herself back up. She slipped forward into the water.

  Petal, on still-solid ice behind Toli, wrapped her hands around her sister’s ankles with a firm grip and pulled with all her strength until Toli’s chest and then head rose slowly out of the water.

  Toli struggled to her knees, coughing and shaking, trying to get her bearings—trying to understand what had just happened. All around her, half-drowned foxes shook and checked one another over. She stared at Petal, her heart beating in dull, painful throbs.

  The ice groaned beneath them.

  “W-we’ve got to g-get away from here,” Wix stuttered, his eyes wide. “Come on. T-take what we need.” He was still in the sled, and he reached under the edge of his tunic to pull a small clay firepot from around his neck. His face was drawn. “I—I had a bad feeling when the ice started groaning, so I tucked a few embers in here while you were looking at those orb things,” he chattered.

  “Toss me the peat bricks,” Petal said, moving quickly to help.

  Wix searched t
he sled. “Gone. But we have whatever’s in here,” he added, yanking out a large waterproof bag. He threw it to them.”

  “We’ll need fire,” Toli slurred through numb lips.

  Petal nodded. “What about extra food? And is there anything else we can burn?”

  Wix shook his head. “One p-p-problem at a time,” he said as he tossed a second bag to Toli and scoured the sled for anything else they could use, shoving items into the last remaining bag. He pulled a small hatchet from the belly of the sled. “This should help.”

  Toli knew they had to hurry. There was no telling if, or when, the ice would crack again. As if to prove her point, loud creaking echoed through the air around them. “Hurry,” she whispered.

  Wix grabbed a coil of rope that had been shoved firmly under one of the benches and tied it tightly around the arched neck of the sled before launching himself onto the solid ice next to the girls.

  He handed Ruby to Toli, and she curled the little dragon around the back of her neck, pulling her wet hood up to block the wind. Half the foxes had run off, and the other half were in no condition to pull the sled free of the ice. The leatherleaf runners were gone, and they needed to get away as quickly as possible.

  “Wait one minute,” Wix said, yanking open the first bag. He pulled out the small clay ember bowl, tossing aside wads of singed leatherleaf wrapping. He emptied his small firepot into the bowl. The embers were black, but Wix pulled his knife free and tapped at each of them gently, knocking away the char, then leaned close and blew. A thin glow brightened his face.

  Toli exhaled.

  “We need to pull the sled free—t-to that line of stonetrees over there,” Wix said. He pointed as the ice knocked loudly on the bottoms of their feet.

  “Let’s get out of here.” Petal spun around.

  The light had grown, and in the distance, dark lines rose toward the sky. Stonetrees, climbing up the foothills of Dragon Mountain. “How far is it?” Petal asked, gripping the rope next to Wix.

  They began to pull.

  Toli squinted at the horizon. “H-half an hour’s walk,” she stuttered. “M-maybe more.” She gritted her teeth so they wouldn’t chatter. “We m-might make it,” she added, too cold to say more. She tried to help Wix and Petal pull the sled over the lip of the ice and toward the tree line, but her fingers were too cold to grasp the rope.