The Lost Lands

by Jessica Khoury

  Her sister leaped off next, gave Valkea a pat on her nose, then strode off toward the loggia and their mother’s tower sanctum.

  Gritting her teeth, Mirra hurried to follow. She’d risked her life in that library. She wasn’t about to get left in the dark again. So she darted behind Tamra like her twin’s shadow. It seemed like she had always been doing just that, forever lurking behind her sister, never getting her own place in the sun.

  Tamra just gave her an annoyed look but didn’t tell her to shove off. So together they climbed the long stair to D’Mara’s tower, where they found their mother sticking sharpened sheep-bone pins into a leather map on the wall. It showed all the lands around the fortress, and Mirra guessed she was monitoring the search parties scouting for the Silver. By the dark look on her face, she also guessed those search parties had turned up zilch. On her desk were scattered writing instruments and beeswax candles; it looked like the workstation of a madwoman. Messy ink spills had left dark stains everywhere, and who knew how long that half-eaten leg of lamb had been sitting on top of those maps and charts.

  Without even asking if they could enter, Tamra marched in and slammed the Silver scale onto D’Mara’s desk, making all the quills, parchments, and inkpots on it rattle.

  “I know what we have to do,” she said breathlessly.

  D’Mara scowled.

  Afraid they might begin fighting, Mirra tucked herself into the corner to watch, standing between a small dragon skeleton assembled with strings and a suit of scaled metal armor.

  “Where have you been?” D’Mara demanded in a dangerously calm voice.

  “Tashiva Lhaa,” said Tamra, not quailing a bit.

  Mirra noticed her sister didn’t mention that the very Silver their mother was hunting had also been at the library. She knew why, of course. D’Mara would be furious with them if she learned they’d let their quarry slip through their fingers again. Besides, it wasn’t like the Silver was still in Raptor territory, and thus within their reach. She had seen it vanish with her own eyes, Bellacrux too.

  Then Tamra said, “I have the key to the Lost Lands, Ma. And this time, I know how to use it.”

  Mirra unfolded her arms and leaned forward. Tamra had refused to tell her what the whole library trip had been about, and what she intended to do with the Silver scale, but Mirra had figured it was some sort of plot to breach the portals.

  She really wasn’t stupid.

  You think more than you talk, Declan had once told her. And he’d been right. So now Mirra listened, and thought, and said nothing at all.

  D’Mara looked like she was about to bite Tamra’s head off, but then she glanced at the map on the wall, and all those pins that may as well have spelled out FAILURE. Then she sighed and sat in her desk chair, which was wood covered in gray wolfskins.

  “Go on,” she said.

  Tamra looked ready to combust with smug self-satisfaction. “I figured if there was ever a time Raptors needed to open portals, it would have been when they left the Lost Lands. It was a mass exodus—thousands and thousands of dragons all flooding from that world to this one at once. I thought, How many Silvers could there have been? Surely there was another way for them to access the portals. So I found the story of the Banishing in Tashiva Lhaa, and guess what? I was right.”

  D’Mara leaned forward, looking truly interested now. She picked up the Silver scale and turned it over; it reflected the gleam of her candles and sent glittering flecks of light bouncing around the chamber.

  “What did you see?” she asked.

  “I saw a scale just like this one embedded on the forehead of every single Raptor. Not just worn, like a headpiece—but forged onto their own scales. And I realized, that’s how the scale worked for Valkea and me before. Just before we went through the portal, that traitor Bellacrux blasted us with fire. The flame must have been hot enough to partly melt the scale onto Valkea’s, and that gave her the power to use it. I pried it off later, having no idea that I’d just made it useless again.”

  Their mother leaned back, still turning the scale in her fingers.

  “If this works, we will enter a new era, girls. The Lost Lands would be ours, after years and years of dreaming and planning and disappointment.” Her eyes began to shine, as if she were already gazing upon the wildfires set by their dragons. Mirra remembered what Sirin had predicted: Raptors razing her lush green world, destroying it as they had destroyed this one.

  “I can test it,” said Tamra. “I’ll take Valkea to that blacksmith whose family we imprisoned. He’ll do anything we ask. Valkea’s already agreed.”

  “No,” said D’Mara. Her hand closed around the scale, and she stood, her eyes gleaming. “Not Valkea.”

  Mirra smirked as the color drained from her twin’s face. Surely Tamra hadn’t thought their mother would give such power to her and Valkea. If the scale really could open portals, D’Mara would keep it all to herself.

  But Tamra wasn’t ready to give up. “You—you can’t use Krane!” she spluttered. “His scale fever’s flaring up again.”

  D’Mara nodded. “I’ll use Zereth.”

  “That hothead? He’s Kaan’s dragon.”

  “They haven’t Locked. Actually, I’m starting to think there’s not a dragon alive who will Lock with that useless boy. Zereth is strong and fast, and he’ll jump at the glory in being the one who leads us to our true home.”

  Mirra was sure there was much more to her mother’s choice than that; there were always layers and layers to her scheming. Not that Mirra particularly cared what D’Mara’s reasons were. It was enough simply to see Tamra turning red with frustration. Served her right. She’d always been D’Mara’s favorite. No matter how harsh or ruthless Mirra tried to be, it was never enough to best Tamra, as Tamra herself loved to point out. So Mirra took particular delight in watching her sister be put in her place by their mother.

  “Fine,” said Tamra. “Take it, then, like you take everything. But I want something in return.”

  “Since when do you make bargains with me?” hissed D’Mara. “I am your mother, and head of this clan! You’ll do as I demand and you’ll be grateful I notice you at all!”

  She strode past Tamra and out the door.

  When her twin turned around, her fists clenched and eyes furious, Mirra laughed outright.

  In two steps, Tamra crossed the chamber. She slapped Mirra hard across her face.

  With a gasp, Mirra held a hand to her cheek, and tasted blood where her sister’s hard silver ring had cut her lip.

  “There,” said Tamra nastily. “That took the smirk off your face. Now get out of my way, idiot.”

  She stormed out after D’Mara, leaving Mirra trembling and blinking away tears of pain. She sank down to the floor, listening to the screech and roar of the Raptors at dinner below.

  “They were right,” Mirra whispered. “We are the bad guys.”

  Joss and Allie emerged from their respective dressing rooms in jeans and trainers, looking bit dazed but now dressed like any other normal kids. Well, except for Joss’s T-shirt, which was two sizes too big. Yawning, Sirin sent him back in to change it.

  She had not slept well the night before, curled in the park with Sammi’s bony wings jabbing her back. They’d set out at sunrise, stopping first at a bakery for jam-filled donuts and directions to the nearest library. The clothing shop had been a last-minute detour.

  “They itch,” Allie said, tugging at the collar of the navy sweater Sirin had found her. “I don’t get why we have to waste time buying clothes. We should be figuring out where to find the Heart.”

  “Did you see how people were looking at you two? We’re supposed to be avoiding attention, not shouting for it. If we walk into a library looking like hobbits, people are gonna notice. Now you fit in, just regular Earth kids.”

  “We’re neither regular nor from Earth,” Allie protested. “What’s a hobbit? And why are these trousers so tight?”

  “They’re called jeans. And you look nic
e,” said Sirin. “Just one last thing …”

  She hunted a bit, then returned with a hairbrush and a pack of scrunchies. “Want me to … ?”

  “I can brush my own hair,” snapped Allie, grabbing them. “We’re not idiots, you know. We might not have grown up in this fancy, weird world of yours, with your fish and chips and zippers and … whatever these are.” She waved the scrunchies. “But we’re not helpless babies.”

  Sirin stepped back, feeling a prickle of heat on her face. “I never said you were stupid! Remember how I stumbled around when I first arrived in your world? If it weren’t for Joss, I’d never have managed it all. He helped me, and so I’m trying to help you.”

  Allie scowled. “You want to help? Fine. You can help by figuring out where the Skyspinner fell. No more, no less.”

  “I know what your problem is,” said Sirin. “And I get it. This is all overwhelming. You’re trying to save two worlds! Anybody would be feeling stressed.”

  “I’m not stressed! I can handle this.”

  “Of course you can! But that doesn’t mean you have to be so strong and bossy all the time. It’s okay to admit you’re a little—”

  “Bossy! Just because I am trying to focus on our mission, instead of always stopping for snacks and shoes? Ever since we got to the Lost Lands, you’re the one who’s gotten bossy!”

  Sirin gasped. “I have not! I’m just trying to—”

  “Help, I know, yeah, yeah. I forgot this is all some storybook quest to you.” Huffing, Allie turned away, leaving Sirin to fume in silence. Honestly, what was the girl’s problem? Why couldn’t she just admit she was feeling in over her head? And Sirin was only trying to help.

  Joss came out again, his clothes right side out this time. He looked suspiciously between the girls, as if suspecting they’d been arguing. In a slick red windbreaker and gray hoodie, he appeared as if he might be on his way to school. He grinned at his own feet, shod in the high-top sneakers of neon yellow so bright it hurt Sirin’s eyes to look at them.

  “They’re ridiculous,” said Allie. “A Raptor would spot them a league away.”

  Joss folded his arms. “I have been nearly burned, crushed, buried alive, eaten, and struck by lightning in the last week. I deserve these shoes. I’m keeping them.”

  Allie and Sirin exchanged exasperated glances; for that moment, it almost seemed as if their argument had never happened.

  “Fine,” Allie said, throwing up her hands. “At least if it gets too dark, we can use them as a torch.”

  Sirin paid for the clothes, relieved when the transaction went through. Then they filed out of the shop and onto the sunny street, and already Sirin felt more at ease. No one stopped to stare at them anymore.

  A new pair of shoes can make anyone’s day brighter, whispered a voice.

  Sirin stiffened, at first thinking it was Sammi. But no, it came from a deep place within her own mind.

  The voice was her mum’s.

  It had been years since she’d said it to Sirin, and years since Sirin had remembered it. But now the memory was so sudden and tangible that it stole her breath away. She’d been knocked down at school by bullies, who’d then torn up the painting of her house she’d made for her mother’s birthday. So her mother had taken her, still sobbing, to the nearest shop, where she’d bought her the most lovely pair of sparkling red shoes. And her mum had been right. Sirin had danced home in those shoes and worn them until the soles tore.

  “What’s that, Sirin?” Joss asked. “Did you buy it in the shop?”

  She blinked away the memory, feeling gutted. “Huh?”

  He pointed to her hand, which was clutched at her throat. Without even realizing it, she’d pulled the dragonstone from under her shirt and was now gripping it tightly.

  “Oh,” she muttered. “It’s nothing. Just an old piece of jewelry.”

  Her hand dropped to her side, letting the pendant slipped back under her shirt. Tears bristled in the corners of her eyes; she stubbornly dashed them away and steeled her jaw.

  “Right,” she said. “Library.”

  Crossing the street, they went into the big glass-and-concrete building, and straight toward the reference desk.

  “So many books,” whispered Allie, looking around.

  “Are we sure we’re in a hurry?” asked Joss mournfully, gazing at a display of picture books about buses.

  “Don’t worry,” said Sirin. “Once we’ve defeated the Raptors, you’ll have all the time you could want to visit libraries.”

  Behind the reference desk, a librarian was sorting piles of books. She looked like a kind granny, with fluffy gray hair and a large, glittering bumblebee brooch, but when they approached, she scowled.

  “Yes?”

  “Hello,” Sirin said brightly. “We’d like to find this, please.”

  She put down the napkin with Allie’s drawing on it.

  The librarian blinked at the napkin, then at Sirin. “What?”

  “We have to figure out what bit of coastline this drawing shows. We’re doing a … geography project, for school.”

  “Yes, school!” Joss added happily.

  Sirin sighed, while the librarian stared at the beaming Joss.

  “Don’t mind my cousin,” said Sirin, fixing a rigid smile on her own face. “He’s from … out of town. Out of country, actually.”

  The librarian muttered, “I swear, it’s something new every day. All right, then, wait a moment.”

  Her computer keys tick-tacked for a few moments, while she muttered and shook her head and made various guttural noises that soon had Sirin exasperated.

  “Anything?” she asked.

  The librarian peered at her. “No matches that I can find. It’s just not enough to go on. Do you know the scale of this drawing? What hemisphere, even?”

  Sirin looked at Allie, and Allie shrugged.

  “Thanks, anyway.” She sighed, reaching for the napkin. But the librarian tapped it thoughtfully.

  “Now, this, though, does look familiar.”

  “What!” Sirin squinted at the line she’d indicated. It looked like nothing to her, just a random squiggle. “What is that, Allie? Waves?”

  “It’s a …” Allie glanced at the librarian, then whispered, “A Blue.”

  “A what, dear?” asked the librarian.

  “It’s nothing,” Allie said. “At least, it’s nothing that can help us find out where this is.”

  “Then why’d you draw it?” asked Sirin.

  Allie shrugged. “Maybe because it nearly smashed me out of the sky? Look, it’s just some Blue dragon whose wings got ripped off by Raptors, and it fell into the ocean and swam away.”

  “I beg your pardon?” The librarian removed her glasses in order to better peer at them. “Is this some sort of game? Are you wasting my time on purpose?”

  “I—I meant to say—” stammered Allie.

  “Honestly!” huffed the librarian. “As if I haven’t got enough to do without delinquents making games of me! Where are your parents? And why aren’t you in school?”

  “Oh,” Sirin said. “We, um, we are in school. This is a history project.”

  “I thought you said it was for geography.” The librarian scowled. “I’m calling your teacher.”

  “No! We’re sorry!” Sirin said hastily, trying to push Allie and Joss along. “And we’re off, see?”

  They retreated to an enclosed reading nook padded with brightly colored pillows. There Sirin made them sit while she studied the squiggle on the napkin.

  “I’d rather deal with dragon librarians,” said Joss, watching the circulation desk anxiously.

  “She might have been onto something though,” muttered Sirin. She kept turning the napkin around, looking at it from all angles. “Allie, you’re sure you saw a wingless dragon swim away from the battle?”

  “Are you saying I’m lying?”

  “No! It’s just … how would it have got through the portals to the Dragonlands, if it couldn’t fly?”
>
  Allie tilted her head. “I guess it couldn’t have.”

  “So it must have been left behind.”

  “I suppose.”

  “And if it were left behind …” Sirin’s heart began thumping. It seemed a ludicrous idea, but then, the very existence of dragons had seemed ludicrous to her just weeks ago. “It might have been spotted by humans. They might have told stories of it, long after the other dragons had disappeared. Perhaps it lived on for centuries. How long do dragons live? How old is Bellacrux?”

  Allie looked a little embarrassed. “I’ve never asked. But she told me once that according to legend, dragons lived longer in the Lost Lands than they do now. Something about the air being better here, and the water cleaner. And in our world, they can live to be over a thousand.”

  “So it’s possible the Blue is still alive. And if we could talk to it, it could tell us exactly where the Skyspinner fell!”

  The Morans exchanged looks.

  “Well …” Joss stammered. “Your world seems pretty big. Even if it were alive, how would we know where to find it?”

  “It could be anywhere,” said Allie.

  “That’s the thing,” said Sirin, so excited she jumped to her feet. “See this squiggle? The librarian was right—it does look familiar. It looks just like some old pictures I’ve seen in books. And if I’m right, then I know exactly where this Blue dragon has been hiding for the last two thousand years.”

  “Where?”

  Sirin grinned. “How would you like to visit Scotland?”

  D’Mara would have preferred to keep her mission to reach the Lost Lands a secret, at least until she knew whether or not it would turn out to be a success, but it was not to be. It must have been Valkea who’d talked, spreading word of the Silver scale’s power to the other Raptors. And so, when D’Mara reached the landing yard and found them gathered, buzzing with the news, she gritted her teeth and decided to pretend this had been the plan all along.