Page 25 of Lightningborn

Remy’s heart pounded. There was no doubt in his mind of what he had stumbled onto. The storm crystals of Cutthroat Wedge. The only things that kept the island from plummeting into the Maelstrom. Suddenly, he felt like he shouldn’t be here. That if he did anything at all, tripped over something, or touched something he shouldn’t, the crystals might stop working. Or even shatter. And that was a terrifying thought.

“Storm,” he whispered, reluctant to even call the dragon’s name in case it might affect the glowing gemstones overhead. “Where are you?”

A soft trill answered him. Scanning the floor, Remy finally spotted the hatchling. Storm stood directly in front of the crystals, his neck craned to gaze up at them. The light from the crystals made the stripes along his back and wings glow with neon luminosity.

“Storm,” Remy hissed. Gritting his teeth, he picked his way carefully into the chamber, moving lightly, as if the crystals might suddenly explode and shatter in front of him. “What are you doing? Get over here.”

Storm turned to gaze at him, and for a moment, the dragon looked frightened and…almost sad. His eyes glowed with the same purple-blue light as the crystals.

“Storm, come on.” Remy reached the dragon and bent down to pick him up. As he did, the back of his hand brushed the smooth edge of the largest crystal.

A jolt went through him, like a massive static shock. Remy cried out, nearly dropping Storm, and heard the dragon yelp. Panting, he staggered away from the crystals, his heart racing in his chest. Emotions swirled through him: fear, anger, sadness, hunger.…

Wait. Hunger?

Blinking, Remy looked down at Storm. The hatchling peered back with large purple eyes and gave a questioning chirp.

“Are you hungry?” Remy asked him, and Storm cocked his head questioningly. “Am I feeling what you’re feeling? That’s not possible. Is it?”

The dragon let out a soft trill and buried his head in the crook of Remy’s elbow. As he did, the swirl of strange emotions inside Remy faded away. He stared at Storm, wondering what had happened, if anything had happened at all. Maybe it was just a weird side effect from being this close to the crystals.

He wished the hatchling could talk. All he knew was he had gotten some kind of magic shock from the storm crystals, and it had made him feel strange. One thing was for certain: He didn’t want to be there at any point. The crystal’s vibrations could be felt through the whole cavern, and the bright, pulsing glow was starting to make his eyes hurt.

“Come on,” he whispered to the dragon. “We shouldn’t be here, and my head hurts. Let’s get back to the cave.”

Storm didn’t protest and allowed Remy to carry him back to the hole, slipping into the tunnel without hesitation. But as they crawled back through the passage, the dragon let out a soft growl and stopped right in the center of the tunnel. Behind him, staring past his tail, Remy frowned.

“Storm, what are you doing?” he whispered. “Keep going.”

Instead, the hatchling backed away, going between Remy’s arms and legs as he retreated. Wary now, Remy crept forward until he could lie down and peek out of the tunnel into the cavern.

A man was standing in the middle of the cave, gazing around intently. A skinny, greasy little man who Remy recognized.

Ferus, owner of the Salty Barrel, rubbed his thin hands together and started walking across the floor toward them.

CHAPTER

TWELVE

They were almost there.

Gem was exhausted, and beneath her, Cloud wasn’t much better. The journey to Cutthroat Wedge had been grueling. Not to mention terrifying. It had started off fine. Gem had been excited to see the kingdom spread below her like a brilliant, multicolored sea. There had been the capital city, with houses and shops lining the roads, and the docks with rows of sky ships floating along the piers. There had been marketplaces and squares and fountains bubbling with sparkling water. And then, as she moved farther from the capital, the city had given way to small farming communities, with acres of crops, silos, and red-and-white barns scattered throughout the fields. Even on the outskirts of the capital, Gem saw that space was at a premium. It surprised her a little. There were no open places, no green rolling hills, no sprawling forests. All available land was either taken up with crops, livestock, or with buildings of some kind. With few open spaces between them.

Gem was aware that it took a lot of resources to feed the kingdom. She knew the crown owned smaller islands scattered around the capital that were solely dedicated to growing food or raising livestock. But as Gem flew above the kingdom on her white dragon, it became glaringly obvious that things were very crowded, with people building on whatever space they could find. She wondered what would happen if the kingdom kept growing, and there were no more islands to build on.

Or even worse, if the islands fell out of the sky. Into the storm below.

And then, just as she had that thought, Cloud soared over the edge of the capital island, and they were flying over the Maelstrom.

Gem’s stomach dropped, and her heart thudded loudly in her ears. She had seen the Maelstrom before, of course. On airships, traveling with her father from island to island, the Maelstrom was always there, seething and surging beneath the ship. But standing on the solid wood of the deck, the storm seemed farther away and unable to reach them. And if she went below deck, she couldn’t see it at all. Out of sight, out of mind.

That was not the case while riding a dragon.

The Maelstrom howled below her, wind gusting up and tossing her hair and clothes, snapping at Cloud’s wings. The dragon struggled to keep steady in the gale, and some of the fiercest gusts would cause him to dip or surge upward, causing Gem’s stomach to lodge in her throat. The clouds were never still, always roiling, swirling, bubbling up like the contents of an angry cauldron. Strands of purple lightning flashed within the storm or crawled along the top of the clouds, turning the air sharp with crackling energy. The absolute worst moment was when the outline of the capital island finally vanished behind her, and it was nothing but her, Cloud, and the Maelstrom, as far as the eye could see.

At this point, Gem almost turned around. Almost pointed Cloud back in the direction of the capital and flew home. But she set her jaw, curled her hands into Cloud’s mane, and kept flying east. Following the sun as it climbed over the storm and the horizon. She had to find the True Dragons. She wouldn’t give up until she did. The fate of the whole kingdom depended on it.

Thankfully, there were many islands surrounding the capital, and she reached the port of Farcliff later that evening. Farcliff was a good-sized town—not as large as the capital, but it had a lively market and an inn, complete with dragon stables attached. Gem was happy to get a room for herself and a stall for Cloud that night. She suspected that the farther she got from the capital, the fewer accommodations she would find.

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