Rise of the Dragon Moon Page 7

  She hurried toward the edge of the Queendom, along the walkway between the last of the houses. The stable where the sled foxes were housed was a large rectangular building that leaned against the towering ice blocks of the Southern Wall and its arching gate. Through the gate beyond were miles of wind, ice, and snow. She looked up at the statue of the queen, and her heart skipped a beat.

  She heaved open the stable door and managed a smile despite herself as the large white foxes spun and jumped up to lick her face, banging into one another in their hurry to get to the harnesses. Raised among people since birth, they were smart, affectionate creatures. Their long tails whipped at the backs of her legs as Toli pulled the gear from the wall. Once she had the foxes lined up, they tugged to get going, huffing steamy clouds that hung in the air like little wishes. They were eager to be gone, and that was a feeling she understood.

  She pulled up her hood. The dragon scales at the hood’s edges were warm and smooth against her skin. Once through the gate, Toli climbed onto the sled’s front bench. A moment more to yank a blanket of fur up over her legs and they were away.

  “Hup!”

  Beyond the arch of ice that served as the Southern Gateway, the starlight reflected off the ice in sharp blue pinpricks of light. They sparked and gleamed like eyes as Toli raced across the surface. She shivered. Out here the world felt bigger and stranger. Out here she could hear her thoughts as they gathered to whisper together under the clear, starry sky.

  When the aurora danced, the dragons would wake, and when they did, they would expect their tithe from the Queendom of Gall. This year, the dragons could starve for all Toli cared.

  Toli went as far and as fast as she dared, listening closely as the cold wind bit at her cheeks and frosted her eyelashes, but she still didn’t know how she was going to rescue her mother. Pendar wanted to wait—for what? She had promised to listen to him, but for how long?

  She could prepare supplies for the long journey and go herself. If she went alone, maybe she could sneak into the Mountain and find the queen. But then what?

  Toli looked out across the ice as the fog rose around her like steam. Yeah, no problem. Just trek across the ice, stumble her way into the Mountain, get past a bunch of dragons, find her mother, and get them both home again. That’s all. Her shoulders slumped. Oh, and don’t get burned alive or eaten.

  Toli snapped the reins and the foxes turned back toward the Queendom. This was stupid. The wind wasn’t going to bring her a plan. It wasn’t going to help her at all. She needed to return home, talk to Pendar, and decide what to do.

  As they turned back, Toli glanced up at the sky. Dark clouds rolled in from the east. It would be better not to be caught outside if it began to hail. She could press on, but she had run the foxes hard, and a brief rest, just to let the squall pass, would give her a little more time, and space, to think.

  Her route back to the Queendom took them past the ice caves. It had been a long time since she’d been inside, but it was out of the wind, and would give the foxes a chance to catch their breath. Hopefully the storm would change direction or move past quickly.

  The caves lay a half mile from the Southern Gate, just out of view of the Queendom, where the silhouettes of the stoneforest trees loomed over them like curious giants. The long tubes of ice swept down under the line of the forest. There were several caves, most no more than a hundred feet long. A few opened into the forest on the other side. A few tunneled through the ice and opened into caverns. As the wind blew over the entrances, they played their hollow song, inviting her closer. In true storms, the wind grew so strong that the ice at the mouths of the caves sometimes shivered and hummed as if their stormsong could sing away the danger.

  Toli slowed as they passed, tugging at the reins until the sled came to a stop a hundred yards from a cave that curled down into the ice under the edge of the forest. The entrance gaped open, its mouth lined with icicle teeth. Toli stared into the dark, then reached down to grab a torch out of the sled, lighting it from the small clay bowl of coals that was always kept alive in the belly of any sled that braved the ice.

  She led the foxes inside, just out of the wind. The walls and rounded ceiling of the cave gleamed, smooth and bright in the flickering light. They beckoned her to look farther inside, and she picked her way forward, watching for anything that might be hiding in the shadows.

  As she walked, her reflection walked next to her, appearing a step ahead on both sides. The hair along the back of her neck rose as she moved to where the tunnel opened onto a small empty cavern.

  She turned to go back to the foxes. A few steps from the entrance, a spark of red in the snow caught her eye. Soon, when the aurora arrived, red would be common enough in the sky, but red on the ground meant blood, and blood on the ice almost always meant something had died.

  She crept closer, her steps cautious.

  There.

  A gleam, just above the piles of snow that had blown inside, catching against the walls. Heart pounding, Toli reached out one hand to brush away the drifts. It was a long, oval-shaped stone, sparkling like a jewel. She’d never seen anything like it. Toli dug into the snow around it to get a better look.

  When all the snow was brushed away, she could see the whole thing. It was about the size of her forearm, and it took both her hands to lift it up. She held it high and it caught the light, sparkling and shining.

  She’d heard of people finding jewels sometimes, though those were deep in the forest and in the ground, not in the snow. Sometimes the stoneforest trees crystallized, she remembered, but those jewels were black. She peered closer. The warm cloud of her breath fogged its surface. She gripped it tighter before wiping away the moisture with her glove.

  Her breath caught as its weight somehow shifted, threatening to topple the stone from her hands. Her grip tightened instinctively as the light on its surface changed. Toli frowned at it. How could a stone change its weight in your hands? She leaned closer.

  Under the surface of the stone, something moved.

  When, at last, a seethe is born,

  Some have feather, some have horn.

  Of royals there are only three.

  One fights to lead, the others free.

  In every seethe, they must obey.

  To sleep, to hunt, to toil, or play.

  The firstborn girl is named for Frost.

  The second named for Stone.

  The third to hatch makes due with Sky.

  The rest take their names alone.

  —Dragon Ranking Creed

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The weight within the stone shifted again, but Toli held on. She peered into the bejeweled depths, leaning closer. A sweep of scales brushed past before a bright golden eye blinked up at her. Its vertical pupil narrowed. Toli yelped and tossed the stone back into the pile of snow at the cave’s edge. It vanished with a poof as a burst of snow flew into the air.

  Choking, Toli stared at the place where the thing had disappeared. A single word ran through her mind like a storm. Dragon. Dragon. Dragon. Dragon. Dragon.

  She shivered. The wind rang through the caves as she reached out and pulled the dragon chrysalis from the snow. Its weight shifted. One golden eye narrowed at her accusingly.

  Her thoughts jumbled, and Toli swallowed hard as her hands slipped over the smooth crystalline surface. She stared. She couldn’t help it. If she looked close, she could make out red scales glinting inside, the outline of a leg, a talon—a long muzzled face.

  Her heart hardened. She should leave it. Let it stay here in the cold. Anyway, what would she do with it? The dragons would want it back—wouldn’t they?

  Toli paused, chewing her lip. The dragons would want it back. Could keeping the chrysalis help get her mother back? She bent down and grabbed a woven sack partly frozen to the bottom of the sled. A small hole tore in the bag as she pulled it free of the icy surface. The inside was covered in bits of fish and frozen scales, but it would have to do. Her hands shook as she shoved
the chrysalis inside, along with some rags and fur. She’d take it to Spar. She had promised to listen to Pendar, but if he didn’t know about the chrysalis, he’d have nothing to say about it. Spar would know what to do.

  Toli leaned one hand against the outer lip of the cave. She peered out at the snow, and then up at the sky for any clue as to where the baby dragon had come from. Her hushed voice seemed loud in the smothering fog. “Why aren’t they looking for you?”

  Hearing the words sent a jolt through her. Maybe they were looking. Of course they were!

  She couldn’t wait on the weather. She had to leave. Now.

  Toli tugged her white cloak tight around her shoulders, pulled the hood up to cover her hair, and then rolled her eyes at herself. She might be harder to see, but the sled wasn’t.

  She stashed the sack under the seat, out of sight, and where she wouldn’t have to look at it. She’d show it to Spar. They could figure out what to do with it together. Her heart pounded as she jumped into the sled and slapped the reins, racing for the safety of the Queendom as fast as the foxes could carry her.

  As she left the caves behind, Toli tried to calm her thoughts, but they whirled like snow in the wind. A baby dragon. She’d found a baby dragon, not even hatched. She’d never seen a dragon chrysalis before. What was it doing out here all by itself, and how had it gotten there? She had no idea how unhatched baby dragons were supposed to be cared for, but she was pretty sure that lying buried in the snow at the mouth of an ice cave—alone—wasn’t it.

  The foxes slowed, whining.

  “Hup! Hup!” Toli cried, rising to her feet. She had hardly left the cave. They were still thirty minutes from the Southern Gate, and she was eager to find Spar. She frowned as the foxes dragged to a stop, whimpering and cringing. Something was making them nervous.

  Goose bumps broke out across Toli’s skin. There was nothing—just fog and the first pale hints of morning moonlight on the ice. She got out of the sled, moving slowly, her eyes flicking from the fog to the foxes, but she couldn’t find any reason for them to be alarmed.

  She crouched down next to the lead fox. “What is it, girl?” She sank her hands into the fox’s fur to comfort her. “Listen,” she let her voice drop to a whisper. “I’m nervous too, but we have to hurry. We need to get home now, okay? Please?”

  The fox crouched down on her haunches with a low snarl, and as she did, Toli caught a scent on the air. It was a sharp electric smell. The last time she had smelled it, her father had died.

  A whoosh of wings, and Toli slowly lifted her eyes to the sky.

  Two dragons, one huge and black, the other smaller and green, hovered high above her, looking down. Instinct took over. Toli threw her arms over her head.

  The black dragon hissed—a female, then.

  The green one snickered, touching down to the left of the sled, blocking any escape toward the forest. “It sees us, Sister. Should we fear for our lives?”

  The foxes cowered as the black dragon dropped down to land, so close it shook the ice under the sled. The scales along the front edges of her wings glittered in the starlight. Slit pupils dilated in large sapphire eyes as she peered at Toli. “I am Krala Frost, firstborn female of my seethe. This is Dral—my twin. Name yourself.”

  Words stuck in Toli’s throat for several long seconds. It was the green’s cough of laughter that shook them loose. “T … Toli. I’m Anatolia Strongarm, uh, firstborn female of the Queendom of Gall.”

  The black dragon—Krala—seemed to smile, her mouth so full of piercing teeth that Toli almost missed what she said. “You were right, brother mine,” she hissed. “It is one of them. And the firstborn. The thing they call a princess.”

  “What do you want?” Toli croaked.

  The brother dragon, Dral, cocked his head at the foxes, his crescent pupils widening. Toli had the fleeting thought that he wanted to eat them, but it was drowned out by the rushing sound of her own blood. She fought to stay still, as some still-observant part of her brain noticed Dral’s feathers. He had more than his sister—a wide collar at his neck, and long, green and copper pin feathers along his spine that rose and fell when he breathed.

  Krala dipped her shoulder, knocking him aside. “We’re here for something else, Brother. These little bags of bone will only stick in your teeth. They never satisfy.”

  Dral narrowed his slit eyes at her, but fell back a few steps.

  “What do we want?” Krala’s chuckle sent a tide of shivers down Toli’s spine. The dragon gazed back at her brother. “The better question is, What don’t we want?” She chuckled again, leaning forward to peer at Toli. “In fact, we are … looking for something.”

  There was only one thing Toli knew of that they might be trying to find, and no matter how she might feel about the chrysalis itself, she would be charred to ash and bone twice over before she would give these dragons anything they wanted. Her heart lurched, remembering the sight of her mother being carried out of sight, hanging from a dragon’s talons, and the pain of her father’s shout as he ran across the impossible distance of ice between them. If there was something she had that they wanted—good. She would deny them at every turn. She’d have nothing to do with helping dragons.

  Even as rebellion flickered in her head, her body recognized the danger. Every muscle tensed, and her breath turned shallow as she struggled not to make any sudden moves, and not to check under the bench where the dragon chrysalis was hidden. She kept her face blank, but her skin broke out in a cold sheen of sweat. “What are you looking for?”

  “Just a small thing,” Dral simpered. “A small red stone. It belongs to the Mother, and—”

  Krala hissed at him, edging him back. “It is of no value,” she said, her head whipping back toward Toli. “It’s only … sentimental. Tell us. Have you seen it?” She leaned closer. “You must have passed by the caves quite recently. I am certain it was there. Do you have it? I smell something … familiar.”

  Toli couldn’t keep her gaze from shifting to the belly of the sled where her bow lay waiting, the chrysalis a handsbreadth away from it. Her fingers twitched. Breathe, Toli, she told herself as she moved to stand in her sled, closer to her weapon, and to the chrysalis.

  Toli forced her hands to relax, clasping them to her sides, so the dragon wouldn’t see them shaking. She’d never get to her bow in time. And she was outnumbered. She’d be dead in a heartbeat, and then what would her mother do—and what about Petal?

  Her thoughts whirled. She wasn’t about to give them the chrysalis. However it got there to begin with—and whatever they wanted with it—helping them wouldn’t do the Queendom any good—or get her mother back. If they already knew she’d found it, they wouldn’t be asking her. They’d just take it.

  “I don’t have your stupid stone,” she snarled. “All you smell is my cloak.” She held up the edge of it. “Scales! See?”

  Krala huffed, and Toli gritted her teeth. How dare they take everything and then ask for more? “Why should I help you? Where’s my mother? Is she alive? Bring her back!”

  The dragon lifted a claw and gave an idle flick toward one of the foxes. “Unimportant.”

  Rage lanced through her. “Not to me! Did you do something to her? Where is she?” Her mother was in danger. Was she dead already? Had they killed her?

  Toli’s skin crawled as Krala craned forward, her rank breath steaming against Toli’s face. “So distrustful. Be careful, Anatolia Firstborn. You may offend me.” She leaned forward another inch. A drop of saliva fell, steaming, to the ice next to Toli’s foot. “I think you do not want to offend me.” The dragon pulled back. “Your mother is alive enough, most likely. Ata collected her. My Queen had some foolish notion that she might be useful.” Krala’s mouth widened, her teeth glistening. “It is weak of her. She might as well bare her throat.”

  Her mother was alive. A rush of dizziness threatened as relief coursed through her. She could almost hear the seconds pass as her thoughts churned. It wasn’t too late. Her mo
ther was alive. It isn’t too late. She had to keep them talking, had to somehow make them reveal something—what the Dragon-Mother wanted, why they’d taken the queen—anything that might help Toli save her. “What do you mean, my mother might be useful?”

  Krala blew fire at the sky. “I agree. It is absurd. Our Dragon-Mother makes a fatal error.” She craned forward, her lip curling back in a sneer. “Imagine thinking such puny, stupid bone bags could be useful to us.” Krala’s neck arched toward the sky like a serpent as she let out a roar. “She is fire-addled if she thinks we—we—could need anything from such puny bites.”

  Toli cringed as the other dragon—the brother, Dral—let out a matching roar that shook the ice. She forced herself to stand her ground.

  “If the Dragon-Mother thinks we’re useful…” Toli didn’t realize she’d spoken until the words tickled across her lips. She tilted her head as the rest of the question escaped. “If she wants our help with something, why didn’t she just ask us?”

  Krala launched forward like a shooting star. Toli stumbled, falling to her back on the bottom of the sled. Krala leaned down to stare Toli in the eyes.

  She froze in the dragon’s glare, her body going cold.

  “We are dragons,” Krala began in a low whisper. “We do not ask for anything. We take what we want, and what we want is ours. In this, our Dragon-Mother is correct.” Krala stepped back, allowing Toli to get up.

  “Your queen is the mightiest of your people.” Krala continued. “Take her, and we take her power. Take her, and the rest are ours—loyal.”

  “What power? What does the Dragon-Mother want with our loyalty?” Toli cried out as Krala snapped her jaws inches from Toli’s face.

  “I don’t like your tone.” Krala let out a low hum that was almost a purr. “But your questions show a sliver of wisdom, puny one. She should not show you such regard. Bone bags have no use at all.”

  Dral snorted a puff of smoke. “It is good that we did what we did, Sister.”