Rise of the Dragon Moon Page 8

  Toli’s thoughts caught on his words. What we did. What had Krala and Dral done?

  They obviously didn’t think much of people—or of her. Maybe she could use that, if she was careful. They didn’t see her as a threat. To them she was just a bag of bones, dumb as stone. She took shallow breaths. If she stayed quiet, maybe they’d forget she was even there. Maybe they’d talk too freely and tell her something she could use to help her mother.

  Krala chucked. “I am always right. The bone bags should fear us and stay below our notice, where they belong. This notion that their queen could help us is offensive! Absurd!”

  Toli began to shiver as Dral leaned his face close, studying her. “I do not understand why our Dragon-Mother wishes a partnership with these creatures. Can you see it, Sister?”

  “See it?” she hissed. “I can almost smell it—like rot. Puny bites ruling the land. Puny bites telling us what we can eat, and what we can’t.” Krala moved closer to Dral, her disgust rolling across the ice like wind, carrying the scent of smoke and death. “Listen to me, Brother. This error in judgment will open this Dragon-Mother’s veins in the end—the solution is simple. I will destroy her so I may my rightful place.”

  Toli’s breath hitched. Krala wants to rule the dragons. At the same moment she saw Dral’s eyes widen, and for just an instant, a flash of fear. She wondered what he was afraid of, but cast the question away. The important part was that Krala wanted their Dragon-Mother dead—or gone.

  Toli chewed her lip. She hoped Krala was telling the truth about her mother being alive. Dragons didn’t ask for help, Krala had said. But apparently their Queen, the Dragon-Mother, might. But help—with what?

  She looked up and startled. The dragons had stopped talking. Krala looked at Dral expectantly, but Dral was watching Toli with narrowed eyes. She froze as he inched closer.

  “Answer me,” Krala rattled. “Am I not a Frost? So what would you have me do, Brother?”

  Dral’s lips peeled back, revealing two neat rows of jagged teeth. “We could just finish all the bites in their tiny Queendom, starting with this one.”

  Toli’s blood turned cold as Krala tipped her head back and laughed, her throat rippling. “Such hardship! All those bones in our teeth, and our seethe would hunger still, my brother. Though it would almost be worth it to see the looks on their faces. No, I think it must wait. I do not wish to call attention to us at this time.”

  Toli didn’t trust any dragon, and she never would, but these two seemed even less trustworthy than most. They had just threatened to turn her Queendom into a snack. It was long past time to escape—to return home and plan her mother’s rescue, but if she made Krala angry now, the dragons’ only quarrel would be over her bones.

  “Are … all the dragons awake? I’m sure with everyone looking for the stone—”

  Dral huffed steam. “We rose early. But soon the rest will rise.”

  Toli wondered if there were other dragons that agreed with Krala and thought the Dragon-Mother was weak and, how had she put it … fire-addled?

  “Hush, Brother,” Krala hissed. “It is past. I am done with searching. I suppose you may eat this bone bag now if you wish, and the little four-footed bone bags.”

  A gust of hot, putrid air brought her eyes up. Dral had moved closer, his inhale dragging at Toli’s clothes. “Are you certain, Anatolia Firstborn? Are you certain you have not seen what we’re looking for?” he asked.

  Krala whipped around, crashing into him with her head and blowing a long blast of fire past his shoulder. “Dral! It is time to let the stone go. Its fate is sealed by now. It will be broken and d-dust. We can’t return it! Not now. Not ever!”

  If it was so important, why wouldn’t Krala want to keep looking? Why wouldn’t she want the others looking when they rose? Krala had said she was a Frost. There was something familiar about that. The thought danced at the back of Toli’s thoughts, but she couldn’t quite catch it out of the past.

  She saw alarm flash over the green dragon’s face and watched as Dral drew back, his pupils narrowed. “Sister,” he rumbled, “you said we would return it—that once the Mother suspected Bola and the others of conspiring to take it, we—”

  “No! We cannot return it! Nor do I wish to. She needs no more brethren! She needs no more first—”

  “But, Sister—”

  “No. It will be as I say. The Dragon-Mother will believe what we tell her, and so will the others. The stone no longer matters.”

  Toli let out her breath. They had stolen the chrysalis! They put it there and for some reason wanted the Dragon-Mother to suspect other dragons.

  Whatever the Dragon-Mother had planned for Toli’s mother, it had upset Krala enough to do something about it.

  Toli’s eyes slid to the foxes where they huddled in a shivering pile, as far from the dragons as they could get. Her heart had given up being in shock, but it still threw itself painfully against her ribs, again and again. She pressed one hand to her chest, certain it must be bruising.

  It’s just like I felt on the hunt, she thought. Just like when I missed. She closed her eyes, shutting out the dragons, forcing her pulse to steady.

  “Look at it, Sister. What is it doing?”

  “The firstborn calms itself,” Krala hissed, and Toli thought she imagined a hint of respect.

  Past time to get out of here, Toli, she thought, and opened her eyes. “So, the Mother sent you to look for this red stone thing?”

  Krala dipped her head. “Of course,” she hissed. “It is as you say.”

  “And she sent you because you’re—”

  “Her sister,” Krala hissed.

  “Her servant,” Dral said.

  Krala spun, snapping, and this time she drew blood. A thin line blossomed across Dral’s shoulder. “It is both, of course,” she explained, turning back to Toli. “We all serve the Mother. We are all … loyal.”

  Toli’s brows knit. Loyal wasn’t a word she would use to describe either of the dragons.

  Krala had settled into what Petal would have called “a sulk.”

  Toli’s voice was carefully soft—humble. “The Dragon-Mother isn’t your … mother?”

  Dral’s eyes didn’t leave Krala, but he steamed his breath and answered. “It is a … title, like queen or empress. She is mother to some.”

  “But not to you and Krala.”

  “The Mother was thirdborn of our seethe,” Dral snarled, the green of his scales sparking light off the white of his teeth. His gaze shifted to Toli. “We will trade for it, Firstborn. If the stone is found, we will trade you for it. A fair trade.” He glanced at Krala. “We want it back.”

  “You waste your time, Brother. It will never be found.”

  Dral cringed, his head sinking toward the ice. “It pains me, Sister, to disagree with you. I will try to find the stone—to return it to its place of belonging.” He turned, lurching toward Toli. “We will bring you food,” he said, “in exchange for the stone. If you or your bone-bag brethren find it.”

  Toli shook her head. “I don’t under—”

  Krala gave a sigh that ended with a cough of flame. “If you must, but you must speak more slowly, Brother. It does not understand you.”

  “We. Will. Bring. Food.”

  “What food?”

  “It does not matter what it is,” Krala hissed. “What matters, little bite, is that my brother says he will bring some. But I will give none of my own food.”

  Toli wasn’t certain, but she thought she heard Dral snarl.

  “I will give you enough to help your people not go hungry in the hiding season. It is a sacrifice I make … willingly.”

  Toli narrowed her eyes. “If you have stored food to spare when you’re done hibernating, why don’t you eat it?”

  “I will bring it. I did not say I had it now,” Dral muttered.

  Krala chuckled and craned her scaled neck forward, her blue eyes narrowing. “It thinks it’s clever, Brother. A clever bite.” She turned away. �
��Come. Forget the stone.”

  Dral ignored Krala’s words and lumbered forward until he stood right next to her. Shoulder to shoulder, they crowded out the sky. “If you find it,” Dral added, his eyes pinned to Toli, “you must keep it warm.”

  Krala snarled at him, beating her wings. Dral’s taloned forelegs gouged the ice as he worked to stand his ground. The gust of wind carried the scent of dragon over Toli.

  “And my mother?” Toli asked, lifting her chin as her heart fluttered in its cage. She held her breath. “What about our queen?”

  Krala drew back. “Wise girl. Clever bone bag. Time will tell, but we will not.” She turned to make an awkward, skipping run across the ice, her heavy body lifting into the sky.

  “How do you know I’ll help you find it?” Toli called to Dral.

  He grinned as he too turned away. “We know because we are wise and clever also.” His green and copper feathers brushed the ice with something like affection as he left the ground. Toli could hear him chuckling as they melted back into the morning fog.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Keeping a baby dragon warm was the last thing Toli had expected to be doing. The two dragons hadn’t thought much of her intelligence, but she’d never been so happy to be underestimated. Thanks to Spar, she’d been taught long ago how to pay sharp attention, even through a cloud of fear. Thanks to her mentor, she had learned a lot from the dragons. More, she thought, than they had learned from her.

  Toli gritted her teeth. While she’d been debating the dragons, the wind had risen, bringing in the squall she had noticed out on the ice. Their enormous winged bodies had provided a strange kind of shelter. Now that they were gone, cold raged against the sled, pushing the foxes back and tearing at her clothes. A thick layer of cloud made her wonder if Nya had yet risen. Surely the Daughter Moon had crested the horizon by now, but with the wind against them, she wasn’t sure they could make it back to the Queendom.

  She could turn the sled over, drag the foxes inside, and shelter there until the fog cleared and the storm passed, or she could turn her back to the wind and make their way the short distance back to the cave.

  She turned toward the caves.

  Something Dral had said caught at her thoughts. They had taken the chrysalis because they were angry at the Mother, but there was more to it than that. Toli was sure of it. Dral seemed to think the Dragon-Mother would want it back, but why take it if they were just going to return it? Krala seemed just as determined to leave it in the snow as her brother was to return it. Yes, Toli thought, the chrysalis had value. It meant something to all of them, which meant she had leverage.

  What if she took it back herself? What would the dragons give, Toli wondered, to have the chrysalis back again? Would the Dragon Queen return her mother if she explained how she had found it—that Krala and Dral had taken it—if she delivered it back safely?

  The chrysalis might at least get her into the Mountain, and buy her time to find where they were keeping her mother.

  Toli lifted her chin and glared at Dragon Mountain. It might not be a plan, exactly, but it was better than no idea at all. It was better than waiting. She would get her mother back—if it was the last thing she ever did.

  It’s not about helping the Dragon-Mother, she told herself as she pulled to a stop outside the cave and gathered the bowl of coals and the small store of peat bricks out of the sled. It’s about getting our queen back.

  Inside, she built a fire and placed the sack nearby. The flames were enough to warm the cave a few degrees and make the walls glisten. Torn between looking at the dragon again and ignoring it, Toli watched the bag.

  She leaned down with a scowl and peeled back the furs from around the chrysalis. A flash of red scales. Toli pressed her lips together. Could it hear her? She glimpsed the gold shine of the dragon’s eyes following her movements. It could definitely see her.

  What was it thinking in there? she wondered. It was probably as suspicious of her as she was of it.

  She stared a moment longer, then flicked the furs back over the chrysalis and sank down on a blanket next to the fire.

  There was no telling how long it would take for her to get all the way to Dragon Mountain. She had never even been as far as the deep ice fields, never seen the Necropolis, where the statues of the long-dead greeted Nya each morning—never spent a night on the ice. Still, she would return to the Queendom and prepare the sled as best she could.

  If she told Pendar about what she’d found, would he change his mind and let them go get the queen? If she told Spar, would she bring Toli with her to the Mountain?

  She couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk either of them saying no. Better to keep the chrysalis a secret, for now at least, until it was too late for them to stop her. The dragons had gotten the better of her for the second time. But this time, they hadn’t left her unconscious in the snow.

  Storm light shown outside the cave. The light from Toli’s peat fire flickered against the slick walls. She eyed the sack that held the chrysalis as if it was plotting something.

  “Dragons killed my father,” she told it, glaring. “Dragons took my mother.” She poked at the black brick on the fire with the tip of an arrow as she edged closer. “So don’t think for a second that I’m doing this to help you.” She flicked back the edge of the bag. A gasp stuck in her throat.

  Thin cracks lanced across the red crystal. They spread as she watched, lacing the chrysalis like frost. Toli scuttled back with a cry, pressing her back to the cold sheen of the cave wall. The chrysalis shattered like splintering ice, and a slender, sparkling dragon the length of her arm slipped out. Its scales shone red as the aurora that streaked the winter sky. It shifted to its feet fast, shaking itself, ruffling the damp red and gold feathers at its neck.

  It hissed at her.

  Toli shook her head so hard, her vision blurred. This couldn’t be happening.

  The dragon zipped closer, pausing to stretch her wings open and then close them.

  “Stay away,” Toli hissed back, pressing herself against the ice.

  The dragon paused, cocking her head as if she were listening to something far away. Her talons clicked against the ice as she hustled up the wall next to Toli, clinging to the ice above her, peering, upside down, into her face. An electric whiff of dragon washed over her.

  Toli shot to her feet, hitting her head on the ceiling of the cave. Her breath came in short bursts. She stumbled away, but the dragon followed, faster than wind, across the cave floor. She scampered up Toli’s leg, her talons pressing hard but not quite piercing.

  Toli yelped a curse, dancing and waving to break free. “Get off me!”

  The dragon raced down again, cringing toward the fire, her golden eyes wide.

  “Don’t come near me!”

  The dragon shivered, fluttering her wings. They looked at each other, another shudder moving over the dragon’s body, bouncing light off her red scales. She blinked up at Toli.

  Toli frowned. If the dragon died, she’d never get her mother back. She waved her hand at the baby. “You’re freezing. Get back in the furs. Go on.”

  The dragon slunk around and nudged the now-gray husks of chrysalis out of the way. She whipped inside the sack, burrowing in among the furs until only her head poked out. Her eyes stared accusingly at Toli.

  Toli fought the urge to stick her tongue out at it. “I suppose you’re hungry too,” she muttered, brushing her hands against her legs. “Never heard of a dragon that wasn’t.” She walked backward as she moved toward the front of the cave. “Well, I don’t have much. I wasn’t expecting to have to feed you. Just … just stay there.”

  She gritted her teeth, walking faster. She’d left the sled just inside, where the foxes could be out of the wind. It was a good thing no one went out on the ice without emergency supplies—just some dried meat and a few mushrooms, but it would have to do.

  As Toli leaned over the sled, a quiet voice at the back of her head whispered, What if it attacks you? She
paused. Her hand shook as she hesitated over the handle of her long knife where it lay quiet in the belly of the sled. After a moment, she shrugged and picked it up, slipping it into the outer wrap of her boot. A child of the ice is prepared for anything.

  The dragon was asleep, or pretending to be. Toli watched it for a while, then dumped the food on top of it and closed the sack. The dragon hissed in what Toli imagined was a questioning way.

  “I can’t very well leave you here and pick you up on my way back,” she ground out. “Someone else could find you, and then what?” She picked up the sack, pinching the bridge of her nose with her other hand. Keeping an actual dragon a secret was going to be a lot harder than hiding a red stone, no matter how pretty it had been.

  I don’t think I can do this, she thought, dropping her forehead into her hand and cradling it there. There was a strange kind of comfort in the gesture, like there was someone who would catch her when she fell, even if it was just herself, and only for a moment.

  She glanced outside. The clouds had passed, and Nya was up. Time to go.

  Toli lifted the sack over her shoulder, dragon and all, and dropped it into the deep pocket of her hood with a sigh. The dragon shifted, curling inside with a contented rattle. Toli climbed back in the sled and headed toward the walls of the Queendom, but she couldn’t help feeling as though, somehow, she had lost an argument she hadn’t even known she’d been having.

  She traveled fast, stabled the foxes, and left the sled just outside the wall, hurrying toward the Great Hall. She needed to collect her belongings for the trek across the deep ice. Maybe in the privacy of her room she could at least hide the dragon under her bed for a time, or—

  Toli stopped walking, tipping her head back to stare at the color-streaked sky. The problem was the same. The dragon could creep off and attack someone. Worse, someone might accidentally creep up on it, and then what? What if Petal found it? No. The dragon had to stay with her, where she could keep an eye on it.

  “Where have you been?” a harsh voice spun her around.

  “Spar—”

  “Up and gone—where?” Spar rasped.