Rise of the Dragon Moon

by Gabrielle K. Byrne

  Toli shook her head. Behind Spar, Krala heard every word. Her eyes gleamed, as though she found some kind of sick humor in the hunt master’s whispers.

  Spar’s dark eyes softened. “Help me, Anatolia. With you and your sister at my side, we can convince your mother too. When their Queen is dead, my burns will heal. They’ve told me so. Then we can go home again and prepare for war while they fight among themselves—while they destroy one another.”

  Petal had crept to Toli’s side, listening. “And what about Ire? Without the dragons, the world will freeze for good. Even Nya won’t be able to save us.”

  Spar narrowed her eyes at Petal. “You always were a gullible child. That is only a story—no doubt started by the dragons themselves to get our food.”

  “The tithe is our way of thanking them for the heat,” Petal whispered before her expression hardened. “It doesn’t matter. You’re insane if you think they’ll let you leave the Mountain alive.”

  Krala hissed. “Do not listen to the fears of children, my sister. You are one of us now. We are united in our purpose.”

  Spar smiled, cringing, the skin around her eyes shiny and tight. “Your concern is touching, Petal. I will take each challenge as it arrives, as I always have. I assure you that they hate their Dragon-Mother too,” Spar explained. “It seems she has more than her fair share of enemies.”

  But she also has her fair share of allies. Toli thought of Bola Stone and all the other dragons she had seen on the Mountain.

  Ata Sky began to laugh, and Krala lashed out with her tail, slapping her back toward the fissure. “She denies us all our true power! As if I am not frostborn! The South should be ours—it should belong to Frost, and Stone, and Sky—as should this frozen land. We should not have to share it with your kind.”

  “She has slighted us all,” said the small yellow dragon.

  Krala snarled. “I am a Frost. You are not as insulted as I.”

  “Take care you do not insult us, Krala,” a dark-blue dragon called from the back, long spines raised along her back. “I am Turu, fourthborn. I have turned my ear to you, but though I have no second name—no rank among the brethren—I swear that if you lead us astray, I will gnaw away your heart. Then you will not misunderstand our intent.” The room filled with hisses and snarls.

  “See,” said Spar, her eyes black in the dim light. “They will destroy one another.” A shiver passed over her and she clutched her own head. “Shhh—she’ll hear. She’ll hear.”

  Krala snapped her jaws disdainfully. “She will not. She hears nothing that happens in the obsidian chambers.”

  “She wants me at her side,” Spar whimpered, falling to one knee.

  Dismay rolled over Toli like fire. To see her mentor brought so low. If she were well, Spar would choose death before she would kneel to dragons. Toli wanted to reach out and lift Spar up again, to help her remember herself—anything that would restore her, whole and unbroken. But Spar had betrayed her. She had betrayed all of them, so instead of helping her mentor, Toli bit her lip and squeezed her hands tightly behind her.

  Krala Frost loomed over Spar, her eyes glittering. “Take this one out. The Mother does not like being unable to reach her.” She leaned down, her voice a thin shadow of a whisper. “Do not fret, little sister. Soon your pain will end and you will grow into your inheritance.”

  “I am not your sister,” Spar hissed back. “I am your ally. Your ally for now—just until the life leaves her eyes.”

  The huge blue dragon, Ata Sky, laughed, like a rumbling of stones. “We shall see, little cousin.”

  Spar rose and allowed herself to be led out by one of the dragons, turning back a moment before she would disappear into the dark. Toli stared at Spar’s fever-bright eyes.

  Petal crossed her arms. “You’ve betrayed us all—the entire Queendom, Spar.”

  “No,” Spar hissed. “No, I did that a long time ago. Now I’m saving us.”

  Krala moved toward them, her scales silent on the glassy floor. “Spar’s time has come. She understands that there is only one way to break the bond of burning.”

  “I must kill the Mother with my own hands.” Spar smiled as the darkness swallowed her.

  For a long pause the chamber was silent. Ata Sky stared out the door to where Spar had disappeared and huffed smoke from her nose. “She will fail and die, of course. But she will provide a good distraction.”

  Krala leaned down to narrow her eyes at Toli and Petal. “And then we will put these bone bags to good use at last, along with all the others of their kind.”

  “What does that mean?” Wix asked.

  “We can eat them now,” the dark blue dragon simpered, shifting closer to the front of the cavern. Toli took a step back, tightening her grip on her bow.

  Ata laughed, and even Krala looked impressed. “Your appetite knows no bounds, Alto Sky, but I think they may yet be useful alive. Ata—contain these bites.”

  “Do not order me, Frostborn! Your plans for our rise have been tenuous at best. You will have my loyalty when you have secured your place as our Mother. That time has not yet arrived.”

  A drip of liquid fire fell from Ata’s mouth to the floor of the cavern. “You told us the Mother would easily believe our brethren stole the chrysalis, and that she would leave the heart of the Mountain to hunt for it. That did not come to pass. Then you told us she would end this repulsive exchange with their queen—that when she heard their firstborn had poisoned her child—”

  “Quiet, thirdborn! You are a Sky like the Mother—unworthy of my explanations.”

  Ata snarled. “The Mother would have been easier to kill, but she remains. She has not even granted you an audience. Now the youngling is lost to us, too. You said the chrysalis would be returned, but you let these bone bags gets the better of you.”

  Hope lanced through Toli and she fought the urge to look at Wix and Petal to see if they had heard it too. Krala had not been granted an audience yet. And, Toli thought, if she had understood Ata, it was Krala alone who wanted Ruby dead. For the rest of them, stealing the chrysalis was just a means to an end, a chance to get rid of the Dragon-Mother.

  Krala snarled and drew herself up. “It would have worked if the human queen hadn’t calmed her.”

  “You should have killed these bites at the first chance.” Ata’s slit pupils dilated as she fixed her gaze on Petal. “We could kill them now.”

  Toli’s hand tightened on her bow. From the corner of her eye she saw Petal move her hand toward the handle of Wix’s knife where it still hung at her waist.

  “I thought that once,” Krala sneered. “But now I see the truth. It is better if the Mother declares the human queen an enemy and strikes the first blow. These bites are braver than I expected. We can use them. The more enemies the Mother and her loyal brethren have, the better.”

  “No! Now!” Ata threw herself at Krala with a hiss, but Krala knocked the blue dragon away, dropping low. Wix scuttled backward, pulling Petal and Toli with him as Ata Sky closed in on them.

  “You are a fool, Ata.” Krala unfolded one wing and knocked Wix and Petal to the ground, sweeping them up into one taloned hand, and Toli into the other. “I will do it myself.”

  Toli’s arms were pinned tightly to her sides. Wix and Petal also struggled in Krala’s grip as she pushed through the wall of dragons the back of the small cavern. A massive geode, its inside covered in pointed indigo crystals, stuck out from the back wall as if it floated in a sea of black. She dropped them into it, chuckling as Toli tripped over the crystals and toppled to her knees. Wix and Petal fell on her in a pile.

  “When we come back,” Krala hissed. “The battle will be won.” She lowered her head to peer at them. “Perhaps I will eat Spar and let the three of you live.” Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “It would please me to be served by royalty.”

  The dragons filed out behind her.

  Toli struggled to her feet and peered over the edge of the geode, Petal right behind her.

&n
bsp; Wix blew out his cheeks. “Now what?”

  “We’ve got to get to the Dragon-Mother before Krala does.”

  “How?”

  Petal peered at the ground. They were at least fifty feet up. “Too far to jump,” she said.

  “Children,” came a rattle from the shadows of the cavern.

  Toli and Wix lifted their bows.

  Dral shifted out of the darkness, his ruff of green feathers shifting as he stalked forward.

  Petal fumbled for her knife.

  “Don’t take another step,” Toli shouted.

  Dral paused, his eyes widening. “I have no interest in puny bites,” he began. “I simply did not wish to be seen by my sister and her followers. Now that they are gone, I thought I … might be of some assistance.”

  Wix lowered his bow. “Why would you help us? What about Krala?”

  “I do not approve of our Mother. She has made mistakes—important ones. But sacrificing any youngling, much less a firstborn, is a line I will not cross. It brings me shame that Krala wished the chrysalis to be truly lost to us.”

  Dral brought his head up, peering into the geode. “Is the youngling really dead?”

  Toli thought about lying again, but they were running out of time. Ruby was running out of time. She shook her head. “No. She’s here, with me. But I … I don’t think she’s doing very well.”

  “We must get her to the Mother.”

  Toli turned and looked out across the obsidian cavern. “Can you get us down?”

  “Not all.” He cocked his head at them. “Two must stay—in case my brethren return. They may not notice one is missing. They will notice three.”

  Toli studied the glint of crystal at her feet.

  “Which one?” Dral whispered, suddenly so close that Toli stumbled backward into Petal.

  She glanced at Wix. His eyes were fierce as he gave her a nod.

  Petal’s hand clasped her shoulders. “You go, Toli. We’ll be okay.”

  She pressed her lips together. “I’m so sorry, Petal—about father and about dragging both of you into this.”

  “The way I remember it,” Wix said, “we dragged ourselves into it.”

  Toli laughed despite the sudden tightness in her chest. “And I’m sorry for not telling you. I should have trusted you.”

  Petal took her hand. “Did you mean what you said?”

  Toli shook her head. “When? What did I say?”

  “Before Bola found us—in the wood, you said that if we make it out of this alive, you will show me how to use a knife properly … and a bow too. Did you mean that?”

  Toli considered Petal. Her sister was strong—willful, independent, and brave. Did she really believe Petal couldn’t learn to defend herself? She lifted her chin. “Of course I meant it. I know you can do anything you set your mind to.”

  Petal’s chin quivered. “Thank you,” she whispered, reaching out to take Toli’s other hand. “It’s not your fault, you know.”

  Toli blinked. “What?”

  A small, sad smile settled on her sister’s face. “I’ve been thinking about it, and what happened to Father was not your fault. You made a mistake. And—you told us in your own time. I … I wish you had told me—us—sooner, but … I understand.”

  “But if I had just listened, he wouldn’t have turned his back on the dragons. He wouldn’t…”

  Petal sniffed, and letting go of Toli’s hands, she shook her head.

  “You’re wrong,” Wix said, picking his way across the crystals to stand next to them. “Listen. You haven’t thought this through. What do you think would have happened if you’d listened to your father?”

  “I think he’d still be alive, that’s what I think.”

  “I’m not sure that’s true, Toli.”

  Toli opened and closed her mouth as if she’d forgotten how to form words. “Well. We’ll never know.”

  “Wix is right. You couldn’t have saved him,” Petal insisted. “Even if you hadn’t been there, Toli. Even if you’d listened to him and stayed in the Hall, you still couldn’t have changed what happened.”

  Despite the darkness under the Mountain, and the hollow feeling in her chest, Toli felt a weight lift. She let her eyes drift shut. “I’m sorry,” she said again. Petal didn’t say anything, but after a long moment, she wrapped her arms around Toli with a sigh.

  Toli met Wix’s eyes as she held Petal close. “Thank you for coming with me. Both of you.”

  Dral cleared his throat. Toli was surprised to see the dragon had stepped back, giving them a moment to say goodbye. “We must hurry,” he growled.

  “There’s no one I’d rather have a death-defying journey with, Princess,” Wix squeezed her tightly enough to make her back crack. “I’ll give you some advice for free, though,” he added, tipping his chin at her bow. “If you decide to shoot something … don’t miss.”

  Petal rolled her eyes. “Just find Mother, and stay safe.”

  “What about you?”

  “What about me? We’re the princesses of Ire, and we’re in this together. I’ll trust you to stop this. And you—you have to trust Wix and me to take care of ourselves in the meantime. Okay?”

  Toli pulled Ruby into her arms, cradling her close. The dragon was gray. Only the scales around her mouth and at the crest of her head still held their fire. Goose bumps ran down her back. What if she didn’t make it?

  Her sister wasn’t a child anymore. She could take care of herself. “At least take my cloak.” She slipped it off, the soft fur caressing her hand as she gave it to her sister. “It may come in handy and … be careful! You too,” she snapped at Wix, forcing a laugh. “Stay alive, or I may kill you myself.”

  He gave her a mock salute. They watched, holding tightly to the crystals along the edge of the open geode, as Dral plucked Toli up and set her down on the cavern floor.

  “Find your queen. When you do, you will find mine. They will be down—near the heart of the Mountain. Return the youngling and warn her,” he said. “Tell her that Dral has given this gift freely.”

  Toli nodded and ran from the chamber. She couldn’t help but wonder if Dral’s words would help her earn the Mother’s trust—or if they would only make things worse.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  With careful steps, Toli followed the path back out to the main cavern, staying as close to the walls as she could. Her fingers hovered over the curve of her bow. She wasn’t sorry she’d left Spar’s gift with Petal. She had no need for it in the heat of the Mountain, but she missed the comfort of it all the same. The thought made her heart hurt.

  She passed several dragons dozing or grooming. At first she thought they didn’t notice her, but as she passed by, a blue dragon near the edge of a wide crevasse cracked open an eye to follow her progress. A huge yellow one huffed steam as she passed, but none moved to question or stop her. They must have seen her with Bola or with Cata.

  A narrow entrance at the far side of the cavern coiled down into the Mountain. It got darker the farther she went. Every inhalation scorched her throat. She followed the path down and down into the darkness. The heart of the Mountain, Dral had said. The Dragon-Mother was near the heart of the Mountain. She prayed to Nya that her own mother might be there too.

  With every step, Toli agonized over what words she should say. She imagined trying to convince the Queen of dragons. “I’m sorry we nearly killed your child. Yes, she’s here. Yes, still alive. We didn’t realize Spar hated you so much, and by the way, you’re about to be betrayed by the dragon who took Ruby in the first place. Please don’t hurt my mother. Please don’t hurt me. Please don’t destroy us all.”

  Toli took a gulp of air. She fought the urge to yell her mother’s name—to call out and listen for her answer. The longing to run ahead and search gathered in the muscles of her legs like an ache, but they were heavy with the heat, and ahead of her, more darkness awaited.

  She started to feel light-headed, her vision narrowing as she took one step and then a
nother. I’m going to pass out, she thought.

  A cool gust of fresh air brushed across her like a beacon.

  One shuddering breath, and Toli couldn’t wait a second longer. She pushed forward into a chamber off to the left, where the air was coming from. A wide shaft in the vaulted ceiling stretched up, open to the sky. Moments passed as she stood gasping. The weaving aurora, visible through the hole and so very far away, told her she was much deeper inside the Mountain than she had realized. She’d never been happier to see the Father’s stingy green light.

  It wasn’t until she had stood for some time, gulping air like some kind of dying beast, that she was able to lower her gaze from the sky and really look around the chamber.

  It was huge, and the walls and the arching ceiling—even the floor—were covered in glittering gems. Purples and reds and blues competed for her attention as she turned around to take it in.

  A soft rushing sound caught her ear. A sinuous white dragon curled around an enormous crystal. There was only one white dragon. The Dragon-Mother’s eyes watched Toli as she slid closer. Her head was massive, encircled by a mane of what looked like long white quills, each tipped with iridescent feathers. They quivered and waved in the air as though there was a breeze.

  Her eyes were the same silver hue as Nya’s light when it shone against the frost. The Dragon-Mother shifted forward until the quills danced over Toli’s head. They shook in the air around the Mother’s long scaled muzzle when she spoke, as mesmerizing as the aurora. Her voice was like the last breath of a storm—so quiet, Toli had to lean closer to catch her words.

  “So. You are one of hers.”

  Toli answered with her own voice pitched low, hesitant to disturb the peace. “If by ‘hers’ you mean Queen Una’s, then yes. I’m Anatolia Strongarm—firstborn. I think you know my mother.”

  The Dragon-Mother’s quills waved and shook. “I am aware.”