Scorch Dragons

by Amie Kaufman

  Mikkel held still for an agonizingly long moment. And then, finally, he raised his hand too.

  “All right,” said Rayna quietly, much more serious than usual. “Good. Should we go hunt for it?”

  “What, right now?” Mikkel asked.

  “Why wait?”

  “It’s not that easy,” Anders replied. “There are guards outside the storage rooms, and Valerius already caught me in there once.”

  All eyes turned to Ellukka, who raised both her hands defensively. “Sparks and scales, don’t look at me,” she said. “You think I can get my father to do what I want? Try being raised by him, he’s strict!”

  “I can see how he really crushed your spirit,” Lisabet replied dryly, and Rayna giggled, breaking the tension that had gathered around them.

  Remembering Rayna’s mistrust of Lisabet the day they’d arrived, Anders could scarcely believe they’d come so far in just a week. But then again, Rayna was quick and clever, and if she’d been watching Lisabet, she’d have seen the other girl was the same, and a friend worth having.

  They talked for a while about the best way to sneak past the guards, and in the end, they decided that an old-fashioned diversion was their best hope.

  “It’ll have to be me,” Ellukka said, with a resigned huff. “My father’s their boss, they’ll come running to see what’s up with me, and that’ll give you a chance to get inside. If they’re back at their posts by the time you need to leave, we might need to get creative, but there’s no way of predicting how long you’ll need to hunt, so there’s not much use in planning how to get you out.”

  “And nighttime is best,” said Theo, who spent more time than anyone in the storage caverns. “During the day there’s often someone looking for something or working with the books. Like Rayna said, there’s no reason to wait, and this is the best chance to avoid running into anyone.”

  “I think I know what Ellukka can do,” Rayna said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Anders and Lisabet, you’ve seen one of these mirrors, so you’ll have to look for it, and you’ll need Theo to help you search. If I can have Ellukka and Mikkel, I can . . . Anders, do you remember that time at the fish market?”

  Anders’s eyes widened. “Oh no,” he said, lifting one hand to cover his mouth.

  “Oh yes,” said Rayna, grinning.

  Half an hour later, Anders crouched in the shadows with Theo and Lisabet, watching the two guards standing outside the artifact storage caverns. Ellukka had wandered by a few minutes earlier to ask the two men a question, and while they were distracted with that, Rayna and Mikkel had silently crept along one of the tunnels approaching the guards. There, they’d carefully turned the dials that controlled the nearest wall lamps, dimming them to almost nothing.

  That made a dark spot where Anders and his two companions could hide, giving them a clear view of the guards, so they could creep past them as soon as the watchful dragons left their posts. The students were only about thirty feet away, and they could make the run in a few heartbeats once Rayna gave them the chance.

  And Anders was very certain Rayna was going to give them the chance. The fish market fiasco had been one of her finest hours, a chaotic plot that had fed half the street children of Holbard for a week. It had been one of the only times they’d teamed up with others, and Rayna had been fearsome in command.

  “What’s she going to do?” Theo whispered, sounding a tiny bit worried.

  “You’ll see in a minute,” Anders promised. “Just don’t worry if you hear any screaming.”

  “Screaming?” Lisabet echoed, shifting beside him, and he put his hand on her arm to stop her from standing up.

  And then it began.

  There was a faint scuffling noise up the wide passageway to the left of the guards, which descended toward the right on a gentle slope. You barely even noticed the angle when you were walking, but for Rayna’s present purposes, it was perfect.

  The scuffling stopped, and then a loud, banging, scraping noise began, the sound of wood thumping against rock, and Ellukka started screaming, the sound somehow both muffled and echoing all at once.

  “What the—” Lisabet began, but she got no further.

  A barrel went rolling by the guards at top speed, Ellukka’s blond braids whipping wildly at one end—she was wedged tightly inside, turning over and over as the barrel flew along the hallway down the slope.

  A second later Mikkel started yelling, and his barrel flew down in hot pursuit, with Rayna bringing up the rear, waving her hands in the air gleefully. “Barrel race!” she shouted to the startled guards, who stared, then took off after her at a run.

  “Quick,” said Anders, springing up like he was starting his own race and sprinting down the hallway to the cavern doors. He hauled them open, hurrying inside, with Lisabet and Theo right behind him.

  “Barrel races?” Theo said, pushing the doors shut. “Seriously?”

  The first time Rayna had tried this, Anders had been inside one of the barrels, Rayna in the other, and they’d gone straight through the middle of Holbard’s busy fish market. Fish had gone flying in every direction, and by the time the angry stallholders had retrieved the twins and heard Rayna’s dramatic, tearful version of their story—that older children had forced them into the barrels, that she’d been afraid for her life, that oh, her poor, weak brother might have died of fright!—the rest of Holbard’s street children had made off with as much fish as they could carry.

  Anders had still been dizzy when they’d met up later to collect their share of the spoils, but he had to admit they’d eaten very well that week. And their cat, Kess, had been amazed, her eyes going so round he thought she’d forgotten how to blink.

  He hadn’t seen Kess since shortly after his transformation, and he hoped desperately that she’d found someone else to sleep next to, and a safe place to be. He wished he could find her, but she’d run from him, smelling the wolf on him even in human form.

  For now, he had other problems to solve. “This way to the mirrors,” Theo said, hurrying along a jumbled pathway that had been cleared through the piles of old artifacts, and just plain junk. Outside, Rayna was probably giving a speech about the amazing benefits of barrel racing by now, and more than likely halfway to convincing the horrified guards that the dragons should take it up as a winter sport.

  “I’ve seen mirrors before,” Theo told him, pausing by a desk to pick up an artifact lantern, which was glowing dimly. He turned a knob to bring the light up to full strength, and then handed two more to Anders and Lisabet. “First place to check is whether it’s with those.”

  They made their way through two more caverns, where stacks of books and crates, spindly-armed artifacts and piles of spare parts cast long, eerie shadows, the rooms growing dustier each time they made their way through a new doorway.

  The third cavern they passed through held a huge wall of hammers—small and shiny, big, blunt, and black, they were hanging on hooks set into the rock. In the middle of the room stood a collection of anvils of all sizes. Anders had seen an anvil before, at a blacksmith’s in Holbard, but there were dozens here.

  “They must have belonged to the dragonsmiths,” Lisabet whispered.

  “No use for them anymore,” Theo said, leading them onward.

  No use now, Anders thought. But once there was.

  When they came through the next doorway, Anders pulled up short—his lantern was reflected back at him in dozens of different mirrors, each showing a shadowed picture of a frightened boy, the glow of the lantern making his brown face pale yellow.

  “Let’s split up and search the room,” Lisabet said. “It’s not that big, we should be able to see one another, or at least hear if somebody calls out.”

  None of them were particularly enthusiastic about being on their own, but the urgency of their task pushed them on, and they parted ways, climbing through the piles of junk and stacks of files, checking the frame of each mirror, looking for the pack of wolves running down one side of it,
the dragons snaking their way down the other.

  But though Theo called Anders or Lisabet over a couple of times to check mirrors he’d found, and after a while they began to hunt in places the others had already been, they had no luck. “It has to be here,” Anders said, desperate. “We have to find a way to see what’s happening at Ulfar somehow.”

  “Perhaps it’s hidden somewhere else?” Lisabet asked, not sounding very hopeful.

  Anders closed his eyes, picturing the mirror he’d seen back in Hayn’s workshop. “It . . . it has to be somewhere dark. Otherwise, Hayn would have seen or heard someone in it by now if it’s working. Is there somewhere near here that’s dark and quiet?”

  Theo frowned. “Maybe? There are a lot more caverns. I’ve been in most of them, though, and I’m sure I’m not the only one.”

  “What’s this?” asked Lisabet, from behind a stack of mirrors. They hurried around to join her, dozens of reflected lanterns jangling as the real ones swung back and forth in the boys’ hands. Lisabet was looking at a heavy wooden doorway, sealed tightly shut in the stone.

  “It could be somewhere dark and quiet,” Anders said. Hoping against hope it wasn’t just another room, he tugged on the handle, then leaned back, putting his whole weight on it. Slowly, the door started to open. He pressed one eye to the crack, and gasped.

  He could barely make out the frame of the mirror on the other side of the door, set in the middle of a tiny room, but he could clearly see what was reflected in it.

  Hayn’s workshop.

  The shelves crammed full of unrepaired artifacts, the desk full of Skraboks, the strings of lights along the walls—they were all there. And then Hayn walked into view, straight across the mirror’s line of sight, disappearing on the other side. It was impossible to mistake him—he was a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark-brown skin, a black beard, and black, square-rimmed glasses, standing at least half a head above almost everyone at Ulfar.

  Anders hurriedly shut the door, blinking at the other two. “We found it,” he whispered. “He’s right there.”

  Lisabet made an excited little squeak, and Theo jumped up and down on the spot.

  “Let’s put the lanterns out,” Anders suggested. “If we close the door behind us quickly and sit in the dark, and if we keep quiet, there’s no reason he’ll even know we’re there.”

  They turned all their lanterns down until their glows became faint, and then extinguished, and slowly, carefully, Anders opened the door. One by one they slipped inside, and Theo pulled the door closed after them. There wasn’t much space in the tiny room, and the three of them had to bunch up together. They crouched on the floor in silence, watching the workshop and waiting to see if Hayn would appear again, or if he had company.

  It was only a few minutes before their patience was rewarded. Hayn reappeared, opening one of the huge Skraboks sitting on his desk and slowly turning the pages. He was frowning at what he found there when the sound of the door opening interrupted his concentration. He looked across, almost right at the mirror—because of course, in his workshop, the other mirror stood beside the door.

  “Sigrid,” he said, and beside Anders, Lisabet gave a little gasp, then clapped her hands over her mouth to muffle it, though too late.

  For an instant, Anders could have sworn Hayn’s gaze flickered toward the mirror. But if it did, then the next instant it was back on the Fyrstulf again.

  “Hayn,” she said, her voice grim. Anders, Lisabet, and Theo held perfectly still as the Fyrstulf—Lisabet’s mother—strode into the workshop. “Well?” she said, her back to the mirror, her arms folded. “Any luck?”

  “None so far,” Hayn said, glancing down at the book on his desk, then back up at the pale blond woman standing before him. “This is an incredibly delicate procedure, Sigrid. You have to understand it’s going to take time.”

  “It worked the other day,” she snapped. “Why can’t you do it again?”

  “Because it worked for about an hour, and then the augmenter melted,” he said calmly. “So obviously I can’t use that one again. It was too old, I still can’t believe I got it to work even for a little. I’m scouring the Skraboks for something else I can use, but there’s a reason we haven’t done this in over a decade. There are a lot of risks, Sigrid, and I’m not sure—”

  “I don’t want to hear excuses,” she said, her voice crisp. “I’ll be back tomorrow, and I want better news.”

  Anders caught a glimpse of her face as she turned to stride for the door—her skin was always very pale, almost the same color as her white-blond hair, and the shadows beneath her eyes stood out like bruises. And then she was gone, the door closing behind her in a slam.

  What was an augmenter? Why did Sigrid want it so badly? And why did Hayn sound so hesitant about it?

  All was silent for a heartbeat, then two, then three, both in the workshop and in the tiny room where Anders, Lisabet, and Theo were crammed in side by side. Hayn stood staring at the door. And then his gaze turned once more toward the mirror.

  This time he walked toward it, approaching until he was almost nose-to-glass, staring at what Anders knew must be a perfectly black surface on his end. Anders held his breath, lest the sound give him away, and the trio of spies were so silent that he was sure Lisabet and Theo must be doing the same on either side of him.

  Then Hayn spoke. “Is somebody there?” He was squinting at the dark.

  None of the children replied.

  “I . . . I can’t see anything,” Hayn said quietly. “But I thought I heard something, just now. If you can hear me, please, I just want to know if our students are all right. Anders and Lisabet are only first years, and whatever they’ve done, they didn’t mean to hurt anyone. They’re good children.”

  Anders’s heart was thumping so loudly in his ears he felt sure Hayn must be able to hear it. He stayed silent. He’d never imagined Hayn being anything but furious at what he’d see as Anders’s and Lisabet’s betrayal.

  Hayn sighed. “If anyone’s there, please pass on word that I need to speak to Anders. I need to speak to him urgently. I . . .” He paused, and glanced at the door again, before lowering his voice, and continuing in almost a whisper. “I have to tell him something that might be the difference between peace and the next great battle.”

  Anders felt like he’d been struck over the head, the shock reverberating through him. Hayn had something to tell him that might be the difference between war and peace?

  He’d always liked the big wolf—Hayn had been kind the first day Anders had transformed, and he’d been kind when Anders and Lisabet had come chasing information. But they weren’t exactly friends.

  Anders scrambled for the right decision. He should check with the others before he revealed himself, since that had never been part of the plan—they’d only agreed to help him spy. Making contact with the wolves might be more than any of the dragons were willing to do.

  But he might not get back in here again, and if he did, there was no guarantee Hayn would be in his office.

  He had to take his chance while he had it. And as he reached his decision, Lisabet reached over to squeeze his arm in silence. He hoped that meant you should say something, because he was about to.

  “Hayn?” His voice came out as nearly a squeak, and he cleared his throat and tried again. “Hayn, it’s Anders.”

  Hayn had been halfway through turning away, but he whirled back, gaze fixed on the mirror. “Anders?” His voice was somewhere between fear and hope. “Are you all right? Who else is there?”

  Anders felt movement by his side, and Theo turned the dial on his lantern until it came dimly to life, the essence captured within it powering its soft glow. “Lisabet,” Anders said. “And this is our friend Theo.”

  “Hi, Hayn,” said Lisabet quietly, and Theo lifted a hand in greeting.

  “Pack and paws, I was so worried you were dead,” Hayn breathed, reaching out to grip either side of the mirror. “Anders, I need to see you as soon as I can. Do
you have any way to get to Holbard?”

  Anders’s eyes went wide. They were forbidden from leaving Drekhelm, let alone waltzing off to the wolves’ stronghold. “I—I don’t think so,” he said.

  “Are you prisoners?”

  “Not exactly,” Anders said. “But the wolves don’t want us in Holbard, do they? Sigrid must be so angry.”

  “Sigrid’s angry,” Hayn conceded, with an apologetic glance at Lisabet. “But of course she’s worried.”

  “Worried enough to forgive us if we came home?” Lisabet pressed.

  The answer was in Hayn’s expression, and after a moment he slowly shook his head. “Tell me,” he said quietly. “Did you deliberately try to hurt your classmates? Or Ennar?”

  “No!” Anders’s answer came quick, bursting out of him. “We didn’t want to, but they were attacking the dragons. It would have been the start of the next great battle if they’d killed one. We never even meant for them to follow us, Hayn.”

  Hayn nodded. “That’s what Ennar and I thought,” he said, to Anders’s surprise. “Though she’s still less forgiving than I am.” He paused, and then pressed on. “Ennar said that you were claiming one of the dragons was your sister, Anders.”

  Anders nodded slowly. “She is.”

  Hayn didn’t look surprised, which was odd. Just worried. “Anders, I must speak to you,” he said again. “And your sister. Is there any way you can get here? I mean it when I say this might be the only chance to stop a war. It has to be in person. And it has to be soon. Tomorrow, even. One of your classmates stole an important artifact while they were at Drekhelm. It’s called the Snowstone.”

  “We know,” Anders said.

  Lisabet spoke beside him. “And we know Sigrid will use it to freeze the dragons if she can.”

  Hayn nodded slowly. “Yes. But I think I have a way to counter its effects.”

  “Why do you want to do that?” Theo asked, finally speaking up. As the only dragon present, he sounded cynical.

  “Because I don’t want a battle,” Hayn said. “Everybody will be hurt. And . . . for more personal reasons. Which I’d prefer to give Anders in person.”