When her fingers stilled, she raised her head and asked, “There’s no way they could have found where the eggs were kept.”
“King Magnar told me he had spies.” I rubbed the back of my neck, hoping I wouldn’t have to admit to her that they had also informed him I had failed the Magical Militia Academy.
She shook her head. “Madam Maritimus has people in invisibility cloaks following them. If the two older sisters were here, someone would have noticed the others bringing them food or water.”
I turned back to the shelves, searching for the scrolls on artifacts. “If I wanted to hide out under an invisibility cloak for a few days, I’d bring a magical tent that no one could see or smell.”
“Evolene has a point,” said Fyrian. “Dragons would have smelled the eggs if they were still in the territory. Or at least gotten a whiff of the magic concealing them.”
An annoyed grunt forced its way out of my throat. I yanked a thick scroll free, jumping back at the rush of dust I’d unsettled. “All right, then. Maybe they snuck out with the eggs.”
“No…” Evolene wrung her hands. “Everyone at the opening ceremony is confined to tents near the arena. The only vehicle Master Fosco allowed to leave Mount Fornax was the royal carriage.”
My eyes widened. “Father!”
Evolene shook her head. “I don’t think Lord Bluebeard took the eggs.”
“Of course not,” I snapped. She’d probably grown up hearing her father’s rants that referred to Father by his previous title. “But what if the witches hid the Dragon eggs in the Royal carriage?”
Her brows drew together. “I don’t think—”
A clap of thunder loud enough to rattle my eardrums broke out.
Evolene ducked her head, clapping her hands over her ears. “What is this?”
“Oh, no,” Fyrian moaned.
“What’s happened?”
“All sleeping dragons are awake. They know about the missing eggs, and they’re furious!”
Chapter 18
I shook my head. Fyrian had to be exaggerating. Because Father’s warning couldn’t be coming true. Just as he was about to leave the mountain on the royal carriage, he’d predicted that the dragons would revolt about the stolen eggs. A shudder ran down my spine, and I wrapped my arms around my torso. Father had also told me that four sleeping dragons could ruin the wards and a dozen could destroy the Magical Militia.
“A-are you all right?” asked Evolene.
“The sleeping dragons are awake.”
She clapped her hand over her mouth. “How many?”
“All of them, according to Fyrian.”
“That’s not…” Evolene stood and backed away. “How is that possible?”
My insides churned with guilt. Last night, Master Fosco had said the black magic released in the duel had stirred the sleeping dragons. I imagined that all the talk of missing eggs in the Council of Dragons had caught their attention and gotten them riled up.
“Don’t feel bad,” said Fyrian. “How were you supposed to know King Magnar would use dark fairy magic?”
Her comforting words didn’t stop the guilt from crawling its way up to the back of my throat and squeezing.
“We have to go.” I strode to the door leading to the library and held it open for Evolene.
Several thunderous roars made the air vibrate and made the fine hairs on my neck to stand on end. Evolene shrieked and grabbed my hand. Cadets emerged from their alcoves ashen-faced and muttering about who could be causing the noise.
Stafford jogged over with Rufus, Gobi and some of the dragon rider cadets sitting around their low table. “What’s happening, Albert?”
“The sleeping dragons have awoken,” I replied. “Are you coming?”
“Count me in!” Stafford glanced down and frowned. “Why are you two holding hands?”
“We’re friends now,” Evolene said.
I dropped her hand. For a moment, I’d forgotten I was supposed to be a boy. Although the three of us knew I wasn’t, the other cadets would gossip.
The five of us raced out of the library, through hallways of shattered lights, up the stairs and over the terraces. The air was humid and stagnant and covered in an orange haze of vibrating dust. We raced up to the surface, stumbling every time one of those hideous roars shook the air.
“Why isn’t the ground shaking?” asked Stafford.
“The magic in Mount Fornax protects the structure from damage,” said Evolene.
We ran through a terrace of tall date palms. There was too much sand in the air to see the dates hanging from the tops of their trunks, but my shoulder knocked against a bottle gourd, sloshing milky liquid over the arm of my jacket.
“Albert?” asked Stafford from behind. “As much as I want to see a sleeping dragon, why are we rushing toward them?”
“I know where the thief hid the eggs. Maybe if I offered to bring them back, they’d be happy to stay in the mountain.”
“Y-you can’t know where they are for sure!” cried Evolene.
“Where?” Stafford jogged alongside us.
“Please don’t say it out loud.” Evolene raised her head toward the mountain’s surface. “They might hear you.”
“She’s right,” said Fyrian. “Blues have sensitive ears. I’ll bet they’re all listening to you now.”
“Oh.” I gave Stafford an apologetic smile.
Niger and his friend joined us, while Stafford relayed my plans to them. He asked, “Do you think you can negotiate with sleeping dragons on your first week?”
“We can’t stand around doing nothing!” I replied. “What if they decide to burn everything down?”
After ascending a few more sets of stairs, we reached the surface and headed for the large area of lawn by the great lake. Past a grove of King Midas pear trees were the reception buildings. As we rounded the corner and caught sight of the lake, a silver dragon four times the size of Fyrian shot out through its surface, spraying droplets of water several yards.
Evolene squeaked. The thud of my heart reverberated through my ribs, and my legs went stiff. Stafford bumped into my back. He grabbed my arm, so I didn’t topple over, then snatched away his hand. “Sorry!”
I blinked several times, not quite believing my eyes. I’d known that dragonets expanded into full-sized dragons, and then dragons later went into cocoons and emerged as larger creatures. But nothing had prepared me for the size of a sleeping dragon.
My throat dried, and I shuffled forwards on legs that felt stiffer than wooden pegs. My pulse pounded in my eardrums, and my heart beat so hard, my fingertips throbbed.
“I would not want to get on the wrong side of a sleeping dragon,” said Niger.
“We’ll have to ride one to graduate as mages,” I said. “That’s what Rufus told me.”
“Aye, but not when they are furious about their missing eggs.”’
I glanced over my shoulder at the two drogott players and at Stafford, who had turned pale. “If you lot want to wait here, that’s fine. Fyrian can come with me.”
Another dragon shot through the lake. It was a beautiful, red with scales that glistened like polished rubies. The red dragon circled the lake before settling on its bank.
“Where are you?” I asked Fyrian.
“On my way.”
The next sleeping dragon who emerged had scales of midnight blue, and it was followed by an equally large purple, and then a green of the same size. The last to join was a black dragon, who flew in from the east of the mountain, casting a huge shadow. It settled at the lakeside and nodded at the others.
Fyrian and a few other regular-sized dragons flew in from the terraces and landed on the bank opposite to the sleeping dragons. I pulled back my shoulders and sucked in a fortifying breath. It was time to speak to the dragons.
When I stepped forward, Niger grabbed my arm. “They hate high fairies. Have you forgotten what you are?”
I smiled. He was like Rufus in a way. Cleverly cautious. No wonder so
many of his brothers ended up graduating as mages. “I’m just as much an ogre as I am a high fairy.”
He let go of my arm and gave me a sharp nod. “Good luck.”
What I’d said hadn’t been a complete lie. Hopefully, the sleeping dragons wouldn’t mistake my being one-quarter high fairy as a sign of being an enemy.
I walked across the lawn toward the lake, flanked by Stafford and Evolene. “You can stay with the others,” I whispered to her. “I know you don’t like confrontations.”
She shook her head. “You were right yesterday. My actions nearly got an innocent dragon killed. If I can help find the eggs, maybe things will even out.”
Fyrian inclined her head. “She’s a better person than I’d thought.”
“It’s amazing how much someone can change when they’re no longer bullied,” I replied.
A normal-sized purple dragon emerged from the lake with Master Fosco on its back. This one didn’t have a broken horn, so it couldn’t be Fogo, Aunt Cendrilla’s mount.
Fyrian chuckled. “Of course, it isn’t.”
Before I could ask what she meant, the massive head of a blue dragon shot out of the water, spraying droplets everywhere. The blue dragon spread its wings and soared into the skies, making way for a red dragon, and then a yellow.
I rubbed at my temple. “How many sleeping dragons are there?”
“The last census said two for each color,” said Evolene.
“The last census is out of date,” muttered Fyrian.
I didn’t bother to relay her comment to the others or ask how many cocooned dragons were resting in the mountain’s interior, waiting to transform into those colossal beasts. There was no need to add to my trepidation.
“What are they saying to each other?” I asked.
“That purple spokes dragon is telling Fosco that the combined firepower will break any enchantment hiding the eggs.”
“Won’t it reduce everything into ashes?” I asked.
“They don’t care about that!”
We reached Fyrian’s side, where Master Fosco stood atop his purple mount. He shook his fist like a lunatic and roared at all the sleeping dragons.
“What’s he doing?” I asked Fyrian.
“Trying to calm them down.”
“It doesn’t look like they’re listening.”
“The sleeping dragons want to know why he didn’t wake them to scour the country for the missing eggs.”
I pursed my lips. The answer was obvious. Master Fosco wanted to prevent another dragon revolution. Two of the dragons roared with such ferocity, they blasted air through my hair and made my eardrums rattle. Evolene staggered into me, and I staggered into Stafford. Fyrian’s leg was the only thing keeping us all upright.
When the noise died down, I asked Fyrian, “Will you help me speak to them?”
“Of course,” she replied. “Get on my back, so they can get a better look at you.”
I climbed up Fyrian’s front leg and up her spine, bringing myself level with Master Fosco. He looked pale and drawn, his posture stooped. I supposed it was from attending Council of Dragon Meetings all day and from searching for the eggs at night.
His head turned a fraction, then he did a double take, widening his maroon eyes. “Go back to the dung heaps,” he snarled through gritted teeth. “Your presence will only make matters worse!”
“I’m expelled, so I don’t have to obey your orders anymore.”
His face twisted. “Al—”
“I know where the eggs are!”
Every single dragon, big and small, turned their attention to me. The sleeping dragons’ eyes were as large as a giant was tall, and their stares evaporated every last drop of moisture from my throat.
“The purple dragon wants to speak to you directly,” said Fyrian. “Is that all right?”
I gave her a shaky nod.
“You are not Queen Cendrilla.” A harsh, female voice echoed in my head.
“No. I’m her relative.”
“You reek of the same high fairy blood.”
“Er… Yes.” I rubbed the back of my head. “Her father is my grandfather.”
“Well then,” said the voice. “Where are our eggs?”
If I told them my theory, they would leap into the air and fly straight to the palace. Or the purple one would teleport and burn through the wards, Father, and everyone else who lived there before I’d even finished my sentence. “I can get them.”
“Lies.”
The other dragons growled low in their throats, as though backing up their comrade.
“Alba isn’t a liar,” said Fyrian. “She risked everything to save me from execution when a human faked his own immolation.”
“Is that correct?” asked the purple dragon.
“Mostly.” I gulped. “It took some time for me to pluck up the courage and do what was right.”
The dragons turned to each other, seeming to consider my words. Fyrian blocked off the purple dragon, and I couldn’t blame her. Even though we were bonded, I didn’t want her to betray her own kind just so I could eavesdrop.
“What’s happening?” Stafford cupped his hands around his mouth.
“They’re thinking about what I said.”
“Will they let you fetch the eggs without them?”
“I hope so,” I muttered.
“What’s going on?” said a haughty voice.
I turned around. King Magnar emerged from behind the building and halted. His sisters stood next to him, their eyes round. Behind the group was Madam Maritimus and a dozen security witches.
King Magnar placed his hands on his hips. “This place has become a threat. I’ve been slandered, attacked, and now dragons twice the size of castles are causing earthquakes. You’ve had ample time to search our belongings. We wish to leave.”
I gritted my teeth. The reason he’d been so confident of his innocence was because his two older sisters had stolen the eggs and put them in a place that would never be searched—the royal carriage.
“Don’t accuse him in front of the sleeping dragons!” Fyrian whispered through our bond. “There’s no telling what they’d do.”
“The best way to deal with him is by swiping the eggs back,” I said.
“What makes you think the two older sisters haven’t taken them over the border already?”
“The Savannah Empire wouldn’t waste its energy on locust attacks if they’d already retrieved the eggs. The witches are probably trying to breach the palace’s defenses.”
Master Fosco ran a hand through his hair. “Madam Maritimus. Perform one last search and let them go.”
The white-haired security witch nodded and gestured for King Magnar and his sisters to head toward the reception block. A dozen witches followed them, and I shook my head. They wouldn’t find anything.
The huge, purple dragon lowered her head, and Fyrian opened up our bond. Even without speaking, her presence echoed in my skull like a wind tumbling through a valley.
I blinked, trying to maintain contact with her amber eyes.
“Bondmate of Fyrian Lacerta.” The purple dragon’s words felt like boulders. “We will give you until sunset to find the eggs. Should you fail, we will raze this country to the ground.”
“I-I’ll find them!” I said out loud.
Master Fosco straightened on the back of his dragon. “You cannot—”
“We will hold off our attack while the child finds the eggs.”
“Take Fulmen.” A silver dragon flew out from the terrace and landed at our side. “He has the best nose and will smell the missing eggs.”
“Thank you. Can I have some fast flyers, please?”
The purple dragon turned to her red comrade. Moments later, two rapier reds flew up from the direction of the Golden Callisti apple trees.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” muttered Master Fosco.
Although my insides writhed like a mass of worms, I gave him what I hoped looked like a confident smile. To the
sleeping dragons, I made my most courtly looking bow. “I will return before sunset.”
“We will be waiting here.”
She inclined her head, not needing to repeat how she and her fellow sleeping dragons would raze the country to ashes if I failed.
Chapter 19
The sleeping dragons all settled onto the banks of the Great Lake like Pharaoh Island sphinxes. They closed their eyes, but the purple one I had spoken to kept hers open a fraction and watched me climb down Fyrian’s foreleg toward my friends.
Stafford and Evolene stood close together, their hands brushing. He leaned forward and whispered, “What happened?”
A hand squeezed my shoulder. Master Fosco murmured, “You had better leave now. Take Fyrian and this lot over here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And if you cannot find the eggs, flee to your uncle’s palace until you hear word that the dragons have gone back to sleep.”
I gulped. It sounded like the sleeping dragons would burn me alive for failing. The huge, purple dragon’s eyes opened a little wider, and she bared a bit of fang. My stomach dropped. The promise I’d made to the sleeping dragons now seemed outlandish, and Evolene’s rejections of my theory were starting to make sense.
“Will you come with me, sir?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Someone must stay behind to make sure the sleeping dragons hold up their end of the bargain. But you have my permission to take a small team of cadets.”
My gaze flicked up to the sky. The dust had thinned somewhat, and the sun was a little way past its zenith, indicating that it was close to two o’clock. Since the sun set at six, I had four hours to reach the capital, enter the palace, and fly the royal carriage back to Mount Fornax. “Right. I’ll return before sunset, then.”
I turned back to my friends. Stafford’s face had turned white, and Evolene’s lips trembled.
“Albert,” said Stafford. “What’s going on?”
I gestured for them to follow. As we walked across the lawn I muttered, “The sleeping dragons wanted to go out and find the eggs themselves, but I told them I knew where they were.”
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