Page 24 of Lightningborn

“Hey, boy. Sorry, to ask this of you so soon, but we’re going on another trip. A much longer one, this time. I don’t…” She trembled a moment, closing her eyes against his mane. “I don’t really know when we’ll be back. But we have to do this. What do you say? You up for another adventure?”

Cloud gently bumped her arm with his nose. Gem smiled and scratched the top of his head between his horns, his favorite spot.

“All right,” she whispered. “Wait here. This time, I really do have to get your saddle.”

Cloud stood patiently as she put the dragon saddle on him, cinching it tight around his belly and chest. By the time she was finished, the sun had risen high overhead. The castle would be bustling with activity by now, and there would probably be some people looking for her. In her father’s absence, Matron Edea would certainly want to know where she was.

It was time to go. With a deep breath, Gem pushed open the doors of the stall. But instead of leading Cloud to one of the launching platforms, she swung herself into the saddle right there. The dragon gave a questioning chirp, glancing back at her curiously, and she smiled.

“All right, boy. This is going to be a longer flight than what you’re used to, but I know you’re strong. We have to find a place called Cutthroat Wedge, out on the edges of the kingdom. I’m counting on you to get me there, okay?”

Cloud trilled excitedly, fluttering his wings, and Gem nodded. “Then let’s go! To find the True Dragons and hopefully save the kingdom. Cloud, up!”

With a bugling cry, Cloud burst out of his stall, launching himself into the air. Gem heard cries of alarm and surprise from the stable hands as she and her dragon rose swiftly into the air. The castle fell away, and as they soared higher, Gem could see the whole city spread below her like a multicolored carpet, stretching on to the horizon.

Gripping Cloud’s mane, Gem turned him east, toward the rising sun, and began her quest to find the True Dragons.

CHAPTER

ELEVEN

Storm was hungry again.

It had been nearly a week since Crusty Bart had let Remy and Storm begin their stay in his cave house, and since then, it seemed the hatchling got hungrier by the day. Bart did a fairly good job of keeping them all fed. His dragon stories at the tavern were more popular than ever now, and he used the coin he made to buy meat for Storm, such as it existed on the island. Most of what he brought back was greasy sausage links, extremely salty fish, hunks of mystery meat from stews, and the occasional rat or pigeon kabob from Silas. Storm wasn’t picky, wolfing down even the greasiest, most questionable of meat chunks and then curling up for a nap almost immediately. But as the days passed, the dragon’s naps grew shorter, and his appetite more voracious. Until he no longer spent most of the afternoon sleeping, but instead prowled restlessly around the cave, searching for spiders and giant purple centipedes.

“Storm, come on,” Remy muttered, bending down to pick up the dragon, who was at the door of the cave peering mournfully up at the doorknob. “You know you can’t go outside yet. There are still all those pirates looking for you. You have to stay here.”

Storm gave a trill that was half-mournful, half-indignant, and squirmed from Remy’s arms, dropping to the floor. Remy sighed again. “I don’t like it, either,” he told the dragon. “But Bart says there are even more people out there looking for a dragon. It’s not safe for us. And who knows how long Jhaeros is going to stay? We’re going to have to keep hiding, at least for a little while longer. Once he gives up, things will calm down, I promise.”

Storm lashed his tail against his flanks and snorted. Which told Remy that the hatchling was starving. The hungrier Storm got, the more irritable he became. He’d never actively bitten or even snapped at Remy, but he had once bared his teeth at Bart when the old man had withheld a string of sausages and told him it was for later.

The cave was constantly dark, but from the streams of red sunlight coming through the cracks in the door, Remy guessed it was still early evening. Bart usually came home late at night after a few hours of telling stories at the tavern, and that was when he usually brought home dinner. Both for humans and dragon.

Remy glanced at Storm, prowling restlessly around the cave searching for giant arachnids, and was afraid his dragon couldn’t wait that long.

Sniffing around one corner of the cave, the hatchling suddenly gave an excited hiss and dove onto a pile of rocks, scrabbling furiously with his talons. Another of the massive green centipedes scurried out of the rock pile in a flurry of orange legs, and the dragon pounced at it with a growl.

The centipede dodged the hatchling’s claws, scuttled across the floor, and vanished into a large hole near the bottom. With a defiant hiss, Storm went after it. Remy saw the dragon dart into the crevice and vanish into the darkness, wings and tail disappearing from sight, and his heart dropped.

“Storm!”

He lunged after the dragon, dropping to his belly to peer into the hole. He couldn’t see anything but darkness, but the gap in the rocks was bigger than he’d first thought. Large enough for a hatchling, and maybe even a skinny street rat, to squeeze into.

“Storm!” he yelled again, hearing his voice echo down what might have been a tunnel through the rocks. “Get back here right now! I’m not coming after you!”

No answer. If the dragon heard him, he wasn’t listening.

Remy ground his teeth. Holding his breath, hoping he wasn’t sliding face first into a nest of centipedes, he poked his head and shoulders through the hole and wriggled his way inside.

As his eyes adjusted, he found himself in a cramped burrow of stone. There was barely enough room to move, but a tunnel snaked farther into the darkness, winding around a bend and out of sight. A luminescent orange cockroach crawled along the wall in front of him, waving hair-thin antennae, and Remy clenched his jaw.

I’m going to kill that dragon, he thought, crawling forward on hands and knees. The cockroach skittered away, vanishing into a crevice, and Remy continued down the tunnel.

At first, the way was nearly pitch-black, the only light coming from the glowing cockroaches skittering along the walls. Sometimes, the passage was so tight Remy scraped his knees and the top of his head trying to squeeze through. But after a few minutes, a faint blue light began filtering through the tunnel, pushing back the darkness. Remy felt a hum in the air, a subtle energy that vibrated the rocks around him. A light appeared at the end of the passage, and he crawled steadily toward it, feeling the faint vibrations rumble through his chest.

The tunnel finally came to an end. Pulling himself out of the hole, Remy straightened, dusting off his hands as he rose. Looking around for his dragon, he found himself in yet another cave, huge stalagmites rising from the floor like teeth. Lichen and luminescent toadstools grew along the walls, and glowing patches of moss covered the stones, all lit with a bluish-white glow that pulsed through the air. The light seemed to be coming from the center of the chamber, though it was blocked by the numerous stalagmites jutting up toward the ceiling. Shielding his eyes, Remy made his way around the largest stalagmite, and his stomach dropped.

A cluster of enormous blue-and-purple crystals sat in the center of the chamber, the jagged tips spiking up until they touched the roof of the cavern. They were huge, the center crystal probably thirty feet tall and twenty feet long, nearly the size of an airship. Remy could hear the hum coming from the massive gemstones. He could feel the vibrations of energy and magic that went through the floor, making his teeth itch.

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