The Alien
Page 11
“I thought only a queen’s daughters or sisters could challenge her for her throne,” Clay said. Tsunami swam so fast. He wished he had webs between his talons, too, or gills, or a tail like hers, so powerful she could nearly empty the river with one big splash.
“Well, maybe the SeaWing queen is my mother and I’m a lost princess,” she said. “Like in the story.”
Everything the dragonets knew about the outside world came from scrolls picked up by the Talons of Peace. Their favorite was The Missing Princess, a legend about a runaway SeaWing dragonet whose royal family tore up the whole ocean looking for her. At the end she found her way home, and her parents welcomed her with open wings and feasting and joy.
Clay always skipped the adventures in the middle of the story. He just liked that last part — the happy mother and father. And the feasting. The feasting sounded pretty great, too.
“I wonder what my parents are like,” he said.
“I wonder if any of our parents are still alive,” Tsunami said.
Clay didn’t like to think about that. He knew dragons were dying in the war every day — Kestrel and Webs brought back news of bloody battles, scorched land, and burning piles of dragon bodies. But he had to believe his parents were still safe. “Do you think they ever miss us?”
“Definitely.” Tsunami flicked a spray of water at him with her tail. “I bet mine were frantic when Webs stole my egg. Just like in the story.”
“And mine tore apart the marshes,” Clay said. They’d all imagined scenes of their parents’ desperate searches ever since they were young dragonets. Clay liked the idea that someone out there was looking for him . . . that someone missed him and wanted him back.
Tsunami flipped onto her back, gazing up at the stone roof with her translucent green eyes. “Well, the Talons of Peace knew what they were doing,” she said bitterly. “No one would ever find us down here.”
They listened to the river gurgle and the torches crackle for a moment.
“We won’t be underground forever,” Clay said, trying to make her feel better. “I mean, if the Talons of Peace want us to stop this war, they have to let us out sometime.” He scratched behind his ear thoughtfully. “Starflight says it’s only two more years.” He only had to hold on that long. “And then we can go home and eat as many cows as we want.”
“Well, first we save the world,” Tsunami said. “And then we go home.”
“Right,” said Clay. How they were going to save the world was a little fuzzy, but everyone seemed to think they’d figure it out when the time came.
Clay pulled himself out of the river, his waterlogged wings heavy and drooping. He spread them in front of one of the torches, arching his neck and trying to get warm. Feeble waves of heat wafted against his scales.
“Unless . . .” Tsunami said.
Clay lowered his head to look at her. “Unless what?”
“Unless we leave sooner,” she said. She flipped over and pulled herself out of the water in one graceful motion.
“Leave?” Clay echoed, startled. “How? On our own?”
“Why not?” she said. “If we can find a way out — why should we have to wait another two years? I’m ready to save the world now, aren’t you?”
Clay wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready to save the world. He figured the Talons of Peace would tell them what they had to do. Only the three guardian dragons — Kestrel, Webs, and Dune — knew where the dragonets were hidden, but there was a whole network of Talons out there getting ready for the prophecy.
“We can’t stop the war by ourselves,” he said. “We wouldn’t know where to start.”
Tsunami flapped her wings at him in exasperation, showering him with cold droplets. “We can too stop the war on our own,” she said. “That’s the whole point of the prophecy.”
“Maybe in two years,” Clay said. Maybe by then I’ll have found my dangerous side. Maybe then I’ll be the ferocious fighter Kestrel wants me to be.
“Maybe sooner,” she said stubbornly. “Just think about it, all right?”
He shifted his feet. “All right. I’ll think about it.” At least that way he could stop arguing with her.
Tsunami cocked her head. “I hear dinner!” The faint sound of dismayed mooing echoed up the tunnel behind them. She poked Clay cheerfully. “Race you to the hall!” She whirled and pounded away without waiting for a response.
The torches in the battle room seemed dimmer, and cold water was seeping under Clay’s scales. He folded his wings and swept his tail through the debris of the smashed rock column.
Tsunami was crazy. The five dragonets weren’t ready to stop the war. They wouldn’t even know how to survive on their own. Maybe Tsunami was brave and tough like a hero should be, but Sunny and Glory and Starflight . . . Clay thought of all the things that might hurt them and wished he could give them his own scales and claws and teeth for extra protection.
Besides, there was no way to escape the caves. The Talons of Peace had made sure of that.
Still, part of him couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to go home now instead of waiting another two years. Back to the marshes, to the swamps, to a whole tribe of MudWings who looked like him and thought like him . . . back to his parents, whoever they were . . .
What if they could do it?
What if the dragonets could escape, and survive, and save the world . . . their own way?
Copyright © 1997 by Katherine Applegate
Cover art by Craig White
Cover design by Steve Scott
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First e-book edition, September 2012
e-ISBN 978-0-545-46970-8