Page 45 of Lightningborn

“I…I saw Storm,” Remy said. “And Jhaeros. It was like I was there, in theWindshark, seeing what Storm was seeing.”

Cutlass raised a brow. “More strange dragon shenanigans,” she mused. “I take it this is not normal, Miss Featherbottom?”

Mary shook her head. “You were seeing through Storm’s eyes?” she asked in disbelief. Her lips thinned, as if she were fighting the urge to say that was impossible. “What did you see?” she finally asked. “Could you hear Jhaeros, too?”

Remy nodded. “Jhaeros is taking Storm to a place where the magic energies gather in one spot,” he told the others. “I think it’s supposed to enhance his power or something. He plans to use Storm as bait, to try to draw out a True Dragon.”

Mary gasped. “A True Dragon,” she repeated. “Why is Jhaeros looking for a True Dragon?”

“He wants to take the dragon’s power,” Remy said. “He said he would drain the dragon of its magic and use it to overthrow the kingdom.”

“What?” Mary stiffened at that, looking almost angry. “How?” she demanded. “How does he expect to overthrow the king? No one would listen to him; he’s a pirate. How does he think he’s going to get past the entire squadron of elite sky knights?”

“I don’t know,” Remy said, wondering why the girl was so upset about this. “It’s just what I heard.”

“Well, isn’t that ambitious,” Cutlass mused. “So Jhaeros plans to use the hatchling to lure a True Dragon to him, and then he’ll drain the magic from the True Dragon, probably by killing it, to make himself more powerful. I wasn’t even aware a mage could do that, but then again, I don’t know a lot about mages or how magic works. There is one thing I’m confused about, though. There are a lot of normal dragons flying around the kingdom. Why does Jhaeros think the True Dragons would care what happens to this one hatchling?”

“Because,” Remy explained, “Storm is a True Dragon, too.”

He felt dazed. Remy knew Storm understood everything he said, even though Bart claimed dragons couldn’t really follow human speech. He had suspected Storm must be different somehow. But a True Dragon? The creatures that were said to be nothing but myth and legend? The powerful, immortal dragons that taught humans the ways of magic before the world fell apart? It felt weird to think of Storm that way.

“I see,” Cutlass said after a moment. “Well, this is all very exciting, or disturbing, depending on how you look at it. But in your…communicating with your dragon,” she went on, gazing at Remy, “did you happen to hear where Jhaeros is headed? I know you canfeelyour way to your dragon, but it would be helpful to have a destination in mind. Did Jhaeros give you anything like that?”

Remy nodded. “He said they had almost reached a place called the Vortex.”

“The Vortex.” The captain narrowed her eyes. “I’ve heard of vortexes,” she said. “They’re places out in the Maelstrom where the magical energies swirl and gather into one giant, chaotic pool, but they usually dissipate and break up after a while. Therearestories of permanent whirlpools that have formed out in the Maelstrom, and the largest one has been responsible for wrecking dozens of ships, so most pirates avoid that section of sky. There’s a huge ship graveyard around it, wrecks circling the Vortex like barrels caught in a whirlpool.” She sighed. “So, naturally, that’s exactly where Jhaeros is headed.”

Three days aboard theQueen’s Bladepassed in a hazy blur. Time for Remy was measured in the space between trips to the helm to make sure they were going in the right direction. His visits to the helm didn’t take long, but Captain Cutlass was methodical; every hour, someone would shout for “the compass” to go to the wheel. At night, they gave him a break, waking him up everythreehours to stumble to the helm and point the way to theWindshark.

He didn’t see the girl much; she was either shut away in her room, in the captain’s quarters with Cutlass, or down in the hold with her dragon. He noticed that, except for the captain, none of the pirates really spoke to her. Since she was a girl, and a noble on top of that, they probably didn’t know how to act around her. With him, there was no hesitation; as a thief, a commoner, and a street rat from a pirate town, he was practically one of their own. Jack especially took Remy under his skinny wing and showed him the ropes of living on a ship: how to climb the riggings, furl the sails, and properly tie a knot. But whenever Mary Featherbottom walked onto the deck, the sailors either politely ignored her or discreetly made themselves scarce. He wondered if she ever got lonely.

One evening, he found her in the hold with Cloud, brushing the dragon’s silky mane. Unlike Storm’s, which was spiky and stood straight up in places, Cloud’s mane was soft and so smooth you could run your fingers through it without hitting any snags or tangles. He’d heard Mary complain once about the lack of scale oil on the ship, and he wondered how much the nobles pampered their dragons. If Cloud slept on a silk bed in a stall made of marble and gold in the capital, it wouldn’t surprise him.

“Hey,” he said, raising a hand to both girl and dragon. Mary smiled at him over her shoulder, and Cloud gave a welcoming trill. Walking over to the dragon, he scratched Cloud between the horns, and the dragon shoved his nose into his chest.

“There.” Mary stepped back, observing Cloud appraisingly. “No more tangles or nasty bits of straw caught in your mane. I wish there was even one bottle of dragon oil lying around, though; your scales are starting to look a bit yellow.”

Remy rolled his eyes. “Must be nice,” he told the dragon. “No one ever offers to brush my hair when there’s straw caught in it.”

“Because they would probably get bitten by the rats who live there,” Mary responded flatly.

Remy laughed. “Hey, leave my rats alone,” he told the girl, who smiled. “They keep the birds from nesting in it.”

She shook her head. Picking up a rag, she walked over to a crate that had a saddle draped atop it. At least, Remy thought it was a saddle. There were no horses on Cutthroat Wedge, and the only pack animals were donkeys that pulled carts, so he had never really seen an actual saddle before. But the thing on the crate was made of leather, had a place for someone to sit, and had several straps coming off it, so he could make a reasonable assumption.

“Is that a dragon saddle?” he asked as Mary ran the cloth over the leather, wiping down the straps.

She nodded. “I know it’s a little small,” she admitted, though Remy didn’t know anything about dragon saddles, tack, or gear. “But Cloud isn’t a big dragon. I just hope three people will be able to ride on him when the time comes. He’s strong enough to carry the weight; that’s not what I’m worried about. It just might be a little uncomfortable on the flight back.”

A cold chill crept through Remy’s stomach. Mary sounded calm and pragmatic, but soon they would be sneaking onto a pirate ship to try to rescue an old sky knight and a dragon hatchling. It was going to be super dangerous, and if they were caught…

He clenched his jaw. They wouldn’t be caught. Too much was at stake. He was going to rescue Storm and Bart, and then maybe Captain Cutlass would let them join her crew. The life of a pirate didn’t sound terrible—better than what he had on Cutthroat Wedge, anyway. He certainly couldn’t go back. Jhaeros would be looking for them.

Glancing at Mary, he wondered what she would do after they found Bart. Probably return to the capital after she got what she needed.

He frowned. Now that he thought about it, he had no idea why she wanted to talk to Bart. It had to be pretty important for a noble to hire a pirate ship and its crew to chase after the most dangerous pirate in the Fringe and rescue Bart. What did the old man know that would make her risk so much?

“All right.” Mary gave the saddle a final swipe with the cloth. “Dragon brushed, saddle wiped down. Not that it matters, but at least we’ll be sort of clean when we fly over to theWindshark. That’s something, right?”

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