Down on the trail, the wolf snapped up the discarded piece of rope and ran around in a frenzy shaking it. Then it slumped on the trail, gnawing.
How long would it stay there? Well, there was no going down. She pulled herself up until she could climb onto a narrow ledge. Her legs dangling off the edge, she secured herself to the ledge with her rope. If she fell, the knots would yank tight, making it impossible to get down without help. But at least she wouldn’t be dead.
She glanced at the wolf. Oh, bad move. Her head spun. She didn’t normally get vertigo. Probably a combination of tiredness and no food. But there was nothing she could do until the wolf left. She couldn’t take her rucksack off up here. Exposed on the ledge, Marlies pulled her hood tight and tugged her cloak around her. She was sitting tight, stuck again. No one was coming to save her. No dragon would swoop down and pluck her from the ledge.
Oh well, she’d waited eighteen years in Lush Valley; she guessed she could wait a little longer. She wouldn’t give up; she had to get to Death Valley and save Zaarusha’s son.
Storm Brewing
“We’re leaving, Tomaaz, and we’re not taking a tharuk spy to Dragons’ Hold,” Pa whispered. He stood, bumping the table, rattling the weapons and tipping over a pouch of herbs.
“Lovina’s not a spy. How could you even think that?” Tomaaz kept his voice low. If Pa kept this up, he’d wake her—asleep in Ezaara’s room.
“I won’t let you jeopardize the future of our family just because Lovina scrubs up well,” Pa hissed.
“That’s not on, Pa! You heard what she said!” Tomaaz whispered. He leaped to his feet, grabbing his chair before it fell to the floor. “You saw the lash marks on her back. Bill will kill her if we leave her here.”
Pa picked up some smoked meat. “We can’t take her with us. What if she’s still under Bill’s influence?” He shoved the meat in a sack.
“He abducted her. Tortured her. Beat her. She’s not on his side. She’s—” Tomaaz stopped, unable to speak as he remembered the bloody mess and infected scars on Lovina’s back. And Bill smacking her head into that tree.
“Maybe this is what Bill wants—us fighting about her.” Pa’s breath was ragged. “I’ll bet he wants her to sow unrest between us.”
“It’s not like that. Why can’t you believe me?” Tomaaz pleaded. “Pa, it’s my fault she’s injured. If I hadn’t searched the jail for you … if I’d followed Bill instead, he wouldn’t have broken Lovina’s arm or fingers.”
Sympathy flickered over Pa’s face.
This was Tomaaz’s chance. “He’s still out here. It’s not safe for her in Lush Valley,” Tomaaz said. “You know, you could ask Ernst and Ana what she was like—she’s been staying with them.”
“We’ll see.” Pa turned his back and busied himself with packing supplies. “Now that Lovina’s asleep, it’s time for a proper introduction to our dragons. Grab that sack.”
Tomaaz had already met them, but seeing the dragons could soften his father’s attitude, so he picked up the sack of food and followed him outside.
The bronze and silver dragons were curled up on the grass, sleeping in the sun. This close, it was hard to believe the size of them, and to get used to the others, blue wings spread, wheeling in the sky.
“Handel and Liesar are exhausted,” said Pa. “They’ve come directly from Dragons’ Hold—three days’ flight away—and they got caught up for a couple of days in skirmishes in Western Settlement.” Pa strode to the bronze dragon and put his sack of supplies into one of the dragon’s saddlebags, which was large enough to hold a man—well, a small one, anyway. “Tomaaz, meet Handel.”
Tomaaz nodded, putting his sack in the saddlebag.
“You can speak, Son. He understands you.” Pa’s eyes danced with amusement.
“You’re joking, right?”
Pa placed Tomaaz’s hand on the dragon’s snout.
A deep voice rumbled through his head. “Now, why would that be a joke? Think I’m too dumb to understand, do you?” The dragon’s green eyes regarded him, its diamond-shaped pupils narrowing to a slit.
Tomaaz’s cheeks heated. “I–I didn’t know. I thought—”
Warm dragon’s breath gusted across Tomaaz’s face and a strange sound echoed in his head, like stones skittering down a bank. Was Handel laughing?
“Of course I am.”
“So, you’re Pa’s dragon?”
“No, Tomaaz. He’s my rider.” Handel winked at him. “You don’t have to speak out loud. While you’re touching me, I can hear your thoughts—it’s called mind-melding.”
Keeping his hand on Handel’s head, Tomaaz let the memory of Bill attacking Lovina resurface. “Can you help me convince my father that we should take her with us?”
“She’s important to you, isn’t she?” Handel asked.
Was she? Tomaaz hadn’t really thought about it. She just needed help.
“Well, you’ll never find out if we don’t bring her. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Tomaaz.” Pa’s voice made him start. “This is Liesar.”
Tomaaz went over and laid his hand on the silver dragon’s head. Like Handel’s, her scales were smooth, warm and supple—like soft leather. “My mother’s your rider, isn’t she?” There was no mistaking those turquoise eyes.
“It’s been a long time, but yes.” Liesar regarded him. “Greetings from your sister. She’s doing well at Dragons’ Hold.”
“Thank the Egg. I was worried about her.”
“It’s funny, you know,” the silver dragon melded. “You cuss like a dragon rider, even though no one in Lush Valley likes dragons or riders.”
“What do you mean?”
“‘The Egg’ and ‘shards’ refer to the legendary great Egg, from which Arisha, the Great Dragon, the mother of all dragons, was born. ‘Sharding’ is what happens when a dragon bursts forth from its egg.” Liesar
