Rise of the Dragons

by Angie Sage

  Joss gave a thumbs-up. Hey, Lysander, he sent. Landing soon.

  Lysander sounded disappointed. Not yet. This is such fun; let’s fly around some more!

  Joss looked at his beautiful silver dragon. The bone ash was long gone, and Lysander shimmered brightly in the light of the full moon. But Lysander, he sent, you shine like a glow bug.

  So what? Lysander returned. There’s no one to see.

  But Lysander was wrong. Concealed in the darkness of the sky, six Lennixes and six Raptors could see him very well indeed. Keeping to the shadows of a bank of cloud that was drifting in from the sea, Flight Vengeance—completed now by D’Mara and Krane—was silently closing in.

  As Herlenna, Bellacrux, and Lysander approached the escarpment, Joss began to feel uneasy. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and he turned around, suddenly knowing what he was about to see. It was exactly what he had feared: Dark in the sky Joss saw the distinctive arrow of a flight of Raptors.

  “Allie!” he yelled. “Behind us!” With a feeling of dread, Allie too turned around. They’ve found us, she sent to Bellacrux. They’ve found us.

  Rather stiffly, Bellacrux turned her great green head. She saw the distinctive shapes of her old family and gave a disdainful snort. They turn up like a bad smell, she sent to Allie. Don’t worry. You and I will see them off. But deep inside that leathery green skin, Allie detected a tremor of fear. She wrapped her arms around Bellacrux’s neck and whispered, “We’ll fight them. And we’ll win.”

  But first, Bellacrux sent, Lysander and Herlenna must be safe. Tell Joss to go to the Greens’ hideout with Herlenna.

  Allie was not surprised when Joss flatly refused to go. “No way, Allie! I am not leaving you!” Joss yelled.

  Bellacrux did not insist. She’d been a young dragon once, and she too had refused to flee a battle. Herlenna, however, not only had the hatchling to consider; she also knew that with her torn wing she would be a liability in any fight. With emotion choking her dragonsong, she thanked Bellacrux for her life and that of her hatchling, and reluctantly began a slow glide down to the thick cover of the trees far below, where she hoped to be able to travel home unseen.

  Bellacrux and Lysander turned to face the oncoming Flight Vengeance.

  Bellacrux had fought many battles in her long life and she had won each and every one. In her youth she had been known by the name Carli had called her: Death Dragon. Although she was now old, Bellacrux was still a force to be reckoned with, and her knowledge of battle strategy was unsurpassed. But Bellacrux knew she was dangerously outnumbered, and while she did not doubt Lysander’s courage, he was only a few weeks old—just a baby, in fact. Through narrowed eyes, Bellacrux sized up the oncoming Raptors. She noted they were placing themselves well, and already had the advantage of height. From the speed they were approaching, Bellacrux realized that she did not have the time to take this advantage from them. Quickly, she told Allie to instruct Joss and Lysander to stay close and follow her every move.

  Before they knew it, the Raptors were above them: ominous winged shapes dark against the bright sky, moonlight catching their white bellies. And staring down was a forest of evil little red eyes: firestix.

  With a quick downward thrust of her powerful wings, Bellacrux embarked upon a flanking movement that took them rapidly out from under Flight Vengeance. She headed upward fast, zigzagging to avoid a barrage of oncoming red streaks as Kaan, in a frenzy, emptied his firestik holster, hurling one after another at them. Shielded by Bellacrux’s wide and powerful neck and her huge wings above, Allie glanced back to check that Joss and Lysander were following: The silver glint of Lysander’s wings told her all she needed to know and, her heart pounding, she turned around to face their enemies.

  Bellacrux had decided to pick off the two outriders at the rear of the Flight: D’Mara on Krane and Mirra on Trixtan. She knew that these were the two weakest links: Krane because he was exhausted, and Trixtan because Mirra was easily flustered. As they drew near and Allie heard the wingbeats and snorts of the Raptors, a tremor of terror shot through her. This was for real now. For a heart-stopping moment her sweaty palms lost their grip and she slipped to one side. Stay calm, Allie told herself sternly as she pulled herself up straight again. Bellacrux knows what she’s doing.

  Deciding to pick Trixtan off first, Bellacrux began advancing under the cover of defensive fire—a diffuse stream of fire from the mouth rather than the nostrils, which was designed to provide cover. Mirra panicked and let loose a volley of firestix. “Not the Silver!” D’Mara yelled, too late. Bellacrux took evasive action; she folded her wings back into the plunge position and dropped like a stone, closely followed by Lysander. As they fell through the air, Allie felt the whoosh of a firestik just above her head, as it shot through the gap between Bellacrux’s neck and wings. Allie’s heart raced. That was close—way too close.

  A shout from D’Mara followed them down. “Traitor Bellacrux! Give yourself up! Give yourself up and we will let the Silver and the Green go free! Fight us and we will kill you all!”

  This time not even Joss believed her.

  Tell Joss we don’t give up, Bellacrux sent to Allie.

  He knows, Allie sent back.

  Now the battle began in earnest. Wave after wave of firestix rained down from Flight Vengeance. Bellacrux and Lysander ducked and dived, all the while circling upward, seeking to regain their lost height.

  And then a firestik found its mark—on Lysander’s left wing tip. Lysander pitched to one side and sent the weapon bouncing off his armored silver scales. The sudden lurch sent Joss sliding out from the rider’s dip. Just in time, Joss grabbed hold of the lowest neck crest and hung on, his legs dangling free. Lysander, help, Joss sent as he watched the firestik plunging down toward the trees far, far below, terrified that in a moment he would be following it.

  Lysander hovered, hoping that Joss would be able to pull himself back up. But as Joss struggled to find a purchase on Lysander’s slippery scales, another firestik came zinging down. Hold tight, Joss! Lysander sent. He tipped over to one side, allowing the firestik to pass and Joss to tumble back into his seat.

  Far above. D’Mara screamed, “I said, leave the Silver! It’s mine! Kill the Grand. Kill the Grand!” Her patience at an end, D’Mara peeled Krane away from Flight Vengeance and came swooping down toward Lysander. Joss saw Krane’s sharpened nose tip glinting like a dagger in the moonlight, and his stomach lurched with fear. He felt Lysander’s muscles tighten, gearing up for the fight ahead, and Joss took a deep breath to steady himself. We can do this, he told himself. We can do it!

  With D’Mara and Krane now on a level with them, the volley of firestix above stopped. Joss watched Krane approaching with a peculiar sideways flight, like a crab, which puzzled him, until he realized that it was probably designed for a rapid getaway. This heartened Joss: Clearly D’Mara was not as confident as she appeared, and the reason for that must be Krane. A sudden wobble in Krane’s flight convinced Joss he was right—now he began to understand that a battle wasn’t only about force, it was also about observation and tactics. Krane is weak, he sent to Lysander. All we have to do is tire him out.

  Fun! Lysander sent back. Let’s mess him around!

  Taking Krane completely by surprise, Lysander flew rapidly—and very cheekily—past his nose spike and at once plunged into a dive. This time, Joss was ready. Gripping tightly with his knees, he stayed firmly in the rider’s dip even when, in a daringly taunting move, Lysander twisted sharply back on himself and then flew directly over the oncoming Krane, buzzing the top of the Raptor’s wings. And as they flew, twisting and turning, Joss realized he could not stop smiling—he and Lysander were flying as one. Lysander’s wings were his wings, Lysander’s scales were his own skin, and he saw only through Lysander’s deep green dragon eyes. He, Joss Moran, was dragon. Pure silver dragon.

  A shout from D’Mara brought Joss out of his dragon trance. “Joshua Lennix! You are dead, you traitor. Dead!”

&nbs
p; As they flew rapidly up and away, Joss turned and yelled at D’Mara, “Yeah! Joshua Lennix is dead! And Joss Moran is alive!” Joss and Lysander flew rapidly upward, zigzagging as they went like a flash of silver lightning and sending the weary Krane into confusion. As they ascended, Krane dropped farther behind until the last vestiges of strength left his wings and D’Mara was forced to admit that her personal fight for the Silver was over. Trying to hide her despair, she whispered to her Lock, “Krane, my love, you can do no more. Glide down to the forest while you still can and we will rest.”

  Krane was too exhausted to reply. Desolate with the knowledge that he had failed the only creature he had ever loved, he spread his wings into a broad canopy and began a slow, miserable descent. As they went, D’Mara looked up at the tiny flash of silver climbing astonishingly high up into the night sky, and her eyes filled with tears of frustration. Would she never get her Silver?

  Joss watched Krane drop slowly away toward the trees and laughed. One down, five to go, he sent to Lysander.

  Five pieces of trouble, Lysander sent back soberly. Big trouble. Look up, Joss.

  Joss looked up, and his heart sank. There, some fifty feet above them, were the five remaining Raptors. And right in the middle of them were Allie and Bellacrux—trapped. One Raptor—a Yellow, which Joss knew must be Declan—flew above, one—a long, sinuous Red—flew below, and three more: Decimus, a Green, and a small, agile Blue circled in tight formation. It was a highly effective maneuver perfected by Edward, and he called it “the Noose.”

  What can we do? Lysander sent to Joss.

  Watch and wait, Joss sent. When we see a gap, we move up fast.

  Trapped in the center of the Noose, Bellacrux was furious with herself for getting caught. She knew all about Edward’s famous Noose and yet she had flown straight into it. She had tried to break out, but whichever way she went, her escape was cut off by a burst of fire or a well-judged firestik. She had sent out three long and powerful firebursts, which had temporarily loosened the Noose, but now it was closing in once more, and with every second that passed Bellacrux had less flying room. She knew it would not be long before she found her wingbeat halted by Raptor fire or a well-placed talon and her flight stalled in midair. And then they would mortally wound her and watch as she and Allie fell helplessly to the ground. That, she knew, was the part Edward looked forward to: “the Long Drop,” as he called it.

  Allie was clutching Bellacrux’s neck crest so tight that her knuckles were white. She was terrified; it was horribly clear that the Lennixes were closing in for the kill. She watched as Edward and Decimus swooped tauntingly past, edging dangerously close to Bellacrux’s right wing. She felt the hot breath of Decimus as he flew by and saw the cruel smile on Edward’s face. She knew Edward was savoring every moment of her terror and she hated him for it.

  Little Lock, the fight’s not lost until it’s lost, Bellacrux sent to Allie. But Allie had a horrible feeling that the fight was indeed lost. They were trapped with nowhere to go but down in flames.

  Keep watching, Bellacrux sent. Watch their every movement. We wait for our chance. Then we take it. Allie ducked as Trixtan came winging past, Mirra screaming insults as she went. Behind them came a small, fast Blue with Tamra’s taunts already blending with Mirra’s.

  But Bellacrux was looking up. Above them she watched the white belly of a yellow Raptor and saw it, slowly but surely, moving upward until there was just enough space for her to get through. Allie felt her Lock take a deep firebreath and, then, suddenly blazing out a wide spume of defensive flames, they were soaring up so fast that they sent Mirra and Trixtan tumbling backward in their downdraft. Up, up Bellacrux went, winging past Declan and Timoleon, who to Allie’s amazement, did nothing. Timoleon just beat time with his wings, holding his place to one side of the Noose, while Declan watched them go. It was, Allie was sure, deliberate. Bellacrux, however, was taking no chances. She continued her rapid ascent, lashing her tail back and forth to keep any pursuers at bay. Far below Allie heard Edward Lennix’s roar of fury, but above she saw to her joy an empty sky, with just the full moon and a bright sprinkling of stars. There was not a Raptor belly in sight.

  It was now that Valkea saw her chance. Ignoring Edward’s angry shouts—he wanted to regroup the Noose and set off in pursuit—Valkea broke ranks and shot up past Declan and Timoleon in a rapid ascent, heading after Bellacrux and Allie. As she drew near to the thrashing tail, Valkea let loose a long, focused spume of fire. It caught the tip of Bellacrux’s tail but did little damage, for the tail-thrash doused the flames and the burn alerted Bellacrux to her pursuer. At once, she wheeled around to face her attacker, and when she saw it was Valkea, Bellacrux opened her wings to their fullest expanse and reared up so that Allie was thrown backward against the old Green’s bony shoulders. And then Bellacrux let out a tremendous roar of rage that echoed down to the Raptors below and sent goose bumps running down Edward’s spine. He had forgotten how terrifying their Grand in her fury could be. Valkea, however, appeared unimpressed.

  Bellacrux loathed Valkea. Delighting in her chance to show the Red exactly what she thought of her, Bellacrux sent a long, thin stream of brilliant orange flame straight into Valkea’s face. The Red wheeled backward and the flames shot down the soft and vulnerable front of her neck, sending Kaan shrieking in terror as they flickered over the top of his head and scorched his hair. Valkea screamed in pain. She launched herself into a rapid spiraling dive, a classic movement designed to extinguish flames, which it did, but not before a long line of scales had been shriveled to a crisp by the blast. As Valkea leveled out, Kaan began sobbing with fear. “Let’s go home now. Oh, please, please, let’s go home …”

  Valkea paid Kaan no attention. In agony from the burn, she thrashed her neck to and fro, trying to cool the burn, while Kaan subsided into soft mewing moans. Edward and Decimus shot by, heading up to Bellacrux. Kill her, Valkea thought. Kill her and I will be your Grand.

  Far above, Bellacrux watched the oncoming Decimus with relish. Her talons had been itching to fight that arrogant bully for years. Her nostrils twitched and her fire stomach growled—she was ready for him. Allie wished she could share Bellacrux’s battle-fury but right then all she felt was scared, and the sight of Decimus roaring upward, his scaly lips drawn back in a battle snarl, terrified her. But Allie was not going to let her Lock down. She squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and focused all her attention on Bellacrux. Whatever her Lock needed from her, she would have. They would fight as a team, together.

  Decimus had now reached their height and was, to Allie’s relief, circling at a distance, his great red wings lazily moving up and down as if he was in no hurry to make a move. In between wingbeats, Allie could see Edward Lennix in the riders’ dip, resplendent in his leather riding suit with his red silk sash streaming out in the night air like a torrent of blood, and she knew he and Decimus were planning how to kill her and Bellacrux. Her mouth was dry, her hands clammy. She wished she were braver. And then, from Bellacrux came a message: But you are brave, my little Lock, and steady too. Remember, brave and steady wins the fight.

  And now it began. Bellacrux started circling, mirroring Decimus’s every move. She matched the rhythm of his wingbeats, their style and pace, lulling him into a false sense of security. Allie felt Bellacrux draw in a firebreath, she felt her Lock’s muscles tense, and suddenly, Bellacrux shot forward, taking Decimus completely by surprise. A great burst of fire came streaming from Bellacrux’s nostrils, and she hurtled past, sending the flames curling over Decimus’s left wing. It did little damage—it was the insult that hurt. A combined roar of fury came from Decimus and Edward, and as the Raptor wheeled around and began to draw in his own firebreath, Allie heard Edward yelling, “Go for the eyes, go for the eyes! Kill, kill, kill!”

  Decimus needed no telling. Gulping air down to his fire stomach as he went, he set himself on course for Bellacrux, honing in on her head. Coolly, Bellacrux hovered while she too took a firebreath, but her
s was long, slow, and deep, designed to create a huge reservoir of fire. With her fire brewing, Bellacrux bided her time, waiting for her moment. She knew enough of Lennix strategy to know what would come next, and she was ready for it.

  Decimus came roaring in, a brief, bright firestream blazing. Bellacrux did not falter. As the Raptor’s firestream died, Decimus did what she expected: He reared up, then with his back legs and talons, he flew above her, raking down at her eyes. Bellacrux now began her fireburst. It hit Decimus on his belly, but he paid no attention—he had a job to do and Raptors were trained to withstand the initial bursts of fire. But Bellacrux’s fire just kept on coming and soon Allie smelled the acrid stink of burning dragon flesh. Fire still streaming, Bellcrux dropped down, took a sharp turn, and came quickly up beneath Decimus’s belly, and in a classic move, she rammed into it with her snout. Hard. The force of the collision hitting the burned flesh paralyzed Decimus’s diaphragm and sent him reeling away, gasping desperately for breath he could not catch.

  As his Lock fell, making horrendous rasping noises, Edward sent his last firestik winging across to Bellacrux. It grazed the furthest tip of her right wing and stuck there, swinging like a long, red-tipped needle. Allie watched in horror as Bellacrux’s most distal wing finger began to smoulder. Pull it out, little Lock. Pull it out, came Bellacrux’s surprisingly calm request. Tipping over to the left to maintain her balance, Bellacrux carefully drew her wing in close to her body. The firestik hung from its red tip and Allie could see tiny flames flickering around the wound it had made, and she knew that at any moment the whole wing could ignite. Balancing precariously, Allie stood up in the riders’ dip and reached up for the firestik that dangled tantalizingly just above her head, just out of reach. She tried again, stretching as high as she could; the tips of her fingers grazed the end of the firestik but she could not shift it. Allie could feel the pain in Bellacrux’s next send: Pull it out, little Lock. Pull it out. Quickly. And so Allie jumped. Her feet lost all contact with her Lock and for a terrifying few seconds, she was alone in the air, hundreds of feet above the ground. Allie grabbed the firestik, threw it as far away as she could, and slammed back into the riders’ dip. She felt a great sigh of relief come from her Lock and the message: Just in time, my brave little Lock, just in time. Allie could not reply. She sat, shaking, and watched the firestik overtake Decimus and Edward and go tumbling toward the forest far below.