Tomaaz stared at Hans, speechless, the crackling fire and their breathing the only sounds. Finally, he rolled his eyes. “Ask any dragon rider? As if I’d see one daily!” He stalked to the door.
Hans followed. He resisted the temptation to look back at the forest for a glimpse of Marlies. She’d already be gone. They walked along the road stretching south to the village. Ahead, Bill and his horse were a blot against the pale gravel. Around them, the Alps were tipped silver in the dark.
“You all right, Son?”
“Absolutely fine. Why wouldn’t I be, with half our family gone?” Tomaaz’s boot knocked a rock, sending it skittering along the road.
“Sorry, stupid question.” Hans placed a hand on Tomaaz’s shoulder, but his son shrugged it off, stomping angrily toward the settlement. “Tomaaz,” Hans called, “I have to warn you.”
His son turned back.
“Bill is out to discredit us. Be careful what you say tonight.”
Tomaaz’s only answer was the crunch of gravel under his boots as he jogged off to catch up with Lofty. Hans jogged behind him and soon they were walking with Ernst’s family.
Raking a hand through his hair, Hans gazed out at the Western Grande Alps, Marlies’ first destination, two days’ hard ride away. Something on top of the Alps winked at him. He was about to turn away, but—
“Oh, shards! Ernst, Ana! A beacon fire.” Hans broke into a sprint toward the village square.
“Pa!” Tomaaz called, racing to keep up, Ernst, Ana and Lofty running too.
Using his dragon sight, Hans evaluated the fire, a gleaming yellow spot between the silver snow-tipped alps. If was he judging it right, the fire was on the Western Pass. “Tharuks have attacked the Western Pass!” Hans yelled, spurting ahead.
He and Marlies had sheltered in this sleepy valley for too long, ignorant to the advances Zens was making. Hiding from their past, instead of owning it. Well, he’d make up for it tonight. He’d do what he could to save Lush Valley from the approaching monsters. If only he had dragon power, now, to speed his feet. At least his dragon sight was permanent, the result of him being Dragons’ Realm’s former Master Seer.
Fields and barns gave way to scattered houses. Soon they were dashing along streets lined with sleepy shuttered buildings, past corners where oil lamps glowed on posts. Voices drifted from the square. Hans rounded a corner—and stopped. The street was jammed with people. There was no way through.
“This way, Hans,” Ernst called, wheeling toward an alley. They ducked behind a row of stores, leaping piles of refuse, and rousing dogs.
Hans followed Ernst and Ana between two buildings, Lofty and Tomaaz trailing them. They burst into the torchlit square among a crush of people.
There, at the head of the square, near the clock tower and village fountain, Klaus stood on the wooden stage, gripping the podium. “We must take precautions,” he said, voice carrying across the gathered folk. “That beast will be back, and maybe more with it. We mustn’t allow dragons to wreak havoc upon us.”
An ocean of people stood between them and Klaus, but if they shouted a warning, they’d cause a panic, and people might be crushed.
Instinctively, Hans stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Ernst, and they pushed their way through the crowd. “Make way, please.”
“We have to make sure our families are safe,” Klaus called to the crowd, thumping the podium. “We need an army, especially archers, to protect us from vengeful dragons.”
“Please, we must see Klaus urgently.” More people moved. They had to barge past others.
Klaus was still talking as Hans climbed on stage and placed a hand on his shoulder.
Klaus lowered his voice. “What is it, Hans? Is Ezaara worse?”
By the Egg, he’d nearly forgotten their alibi. He hated lying. Hans shook his head. “Marlies has taken Ezaara to the healers at Western Settlement to see if they can help.”
“I’m sorry, Hans.” Concern painted Klaus’ face.
Hans pushed on. “Klaus, there’s a matter of utmost importance.” People were pressing in against the stage. Many of them would hear, but Hans couldn’t risk waiting. They had to fortify Lush Valley against tharuk attack. The best time to marshal their defenses was now, while everyone was gathered.
Hans pointed at the Western Grande Alps. “Klaus, that yellow light is a beacon fire. The dragon set a beacon pyre alight to warn us that tharuks are attacking Lush Valley.” The moment he’d spoken, Hans knew he’d made a mistake.
A mask of fury snapped over Klaus’ face. Men near the stage muttered indignantly about dragons. Other shook their fists.
Klaus jabbed a finger at Hans’ chest, his voice rising. “Are you suggesting that dragons might warn us of attack?”
Hans wasn’t suggesting it, he knew it, but he was no use to the realm imprisoned—and definitely no use to his family behind bars or burned at the stake. “You’re right, Klaus,” he agreed. “The guards at the pass could’ve lit that fire.”
Eyes narrowed, Klaus scrutinized his face. “Then why did you mention dragons, Hans?”
“I’m sorry. With the stress of seeing the dragon today, I wasn’t thinking straight.”
Nodding, Klaus peered toward the west. “Beacon, you say? I can’t see anything but stars.”
Shards! He’d forgotten about his dragon sight! Could anyone else see the fire?
Ernst stepped closer, pointing at the pass. “There, Klaus, see that bright star, yellower than the rest? That’s fire.”
“Looks like a star to me,” Klaus said, shaking his head. “Dragons and fire. What’s gotten in to you, Hans?”
“Perhaps he’s a dragon lover!” yelled a throaty voice.
Hans whirled.
Bill, stained teeth set in an ugly grin, leaped onto the stage. “Hans raced to that dragon,”
