Rise of the Dragons

by Angie Sage

  Joss hurried away, but before he had gotten far, Edward Lennix grabbed him. “And where do you think you are going, boy?” he demanded.

  Joss’s heart sank. How was he ever going to get back to Allie? There was no way they were going to leave him alone for one second. He pulled himself back into Lennix mode and said, “Father. My Lock is in his dragonsong sleep today, but I intend to use my time productively. Declan showed me the lower levels of the Roost yesterday. Today I plan to familiarize myself with the upper levels.”

  Edward Lennix eyed Joss irritably. There was something about the boy he didn’t quite trust, but he couldn’t fault his reply. “Very well. Declan is with me all day on flight allocation and route planning. Kaan can go with you.”

  Kaan! Joss tried not to panic—Kaan would be a disaster. Joss knew that with Edward he must be confident and speak bluntly, and so he did. “Not Kaan, thank you, Father,” he said.

  Edward looked amused. “Don’t blame you,” he said, and looked at his watch. “I’m sure you can manage on your own. I’ll give you three hours precisely for the upper levels of the Roost, and at eleven fifty-six you will present yourself at the meeting room to observe our planning for tonight’s raid. Now, do you have a plan?”

  Joss stared at Edward, horrified. How did he know he and Allie were about to work out a plan?

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake, boy. If you haven’t, it’s not a hanging offense,” Edward said. “Here, take mine.” From his pocket Edward pulled out his own plan of the Roost. Joss took it, his hands shaking.

  “Scared of your own shadow,” Edward observed. “You’re a Lennix now, boy. No need for that anymore.”

  “Yes, Father. Thank you,” Joss said, and as Mirra and Tamra arrived to claim their father, he walked briskly away, aware of their stares following him. As he heard their voices wheedling a favor, he slipped into the shadows of the loggia and walked down the wide Raptor ramp to Level One.

  From the shadows of the loggia, Krane watched Joss go by and waited for D’Mara to join him. Krane was a quiet dragon who heard much and said little—except to his Lock. He was considered something of a spy among the other Raptors and had few friends. As he and D’Mara walked slowly down the ramp, he updated his Lock on the latest gossip. Usually it was some kind of light scandal that amused D’Mara, but this time it was neither light nor amusing.

  Dee, Krane sent, Valkea is stirring up trouble about the Silver.

  Oh? D’Mara asked.

  They’re all talking about it, Dee. You know, this Lost Land full of humans that they say the Silver can take us into? Well, Valkea is telling the Raptors that you Lennixes are keeping it just for yourselves.

  D’Mara sighed. Of course we’re not, Krane. But we’ll only let them through accompanied by a Lennix. Valkea can go when I’ve got proof that Kaan can control her. I’m not having Valkea creating havoc over there too.

  I’ll tell her she’ll be one of the first to go through, shall I? Krane suggested. That should keep her quiet. For now.

  Yes, please, Krane, I’d be very grateful if you would. D’Mara reached out and rested her hand on her Lock’s smooth blue scales. Oh Krane, she sent, what would I do without you? Together dragon and Lock walked down the ramp to Krane’s chamber, entirely content with each other.

  It was half term and Sirin was sitting in the chilly dining room at the back of her foster family’s house doing her homework. The room smelled of stale Sunday lunch and hamster bedding and, with the foster family’s two little boys away at a friend’s, the house was quiet and the only sound was Nibbles the hamster going around his wheel. Sirin had a low opinion of hamsters—there was no way that Sammi would spend her time running around a wheel going nowhere. The thought of Sammi made Sirin feel like a little dagger had been jabbed into her stomach, and she tried to push it away. But she couldn’t forget the awful moment in the flat when Sammi had refused to get into her cat carrier and scratched the new social worker and then she’d phoned the lady from the animal shelter, who had come and taken Sammi away. Sirin was proud of Sammi for fighting. Maybe, she thought as she slowly colored around a complicated coastline, maybe I should have fought too. Maybe I should have just picked Sammi up and run away with her. But Sirin had nowhere to run to. She was just as stuck in her foster family as Nibbles was in his cage.

  Sirin closed her geography book and put it neatly into her backpack because her foster mother, Mandy, liked everything kept tidy, and so Sirin knew that was what she must do. She didn’t belong anywhere enough to be untidy. Or irritable. Or sad. Now she must be how other people wanted her to be. That was the deal.

  Mandy put her head around the door and said brightly, “Ready, Sirin?”

  Sirin’s spirits lifted. As it was half term, they would surely have time to stop in at the shelter and visit Sammi on the way back from the hospital. She hurried out and was soon sitting in Mandy’s little black car with its plastic seat covers and Christmas tree air freshener swinging from the mirror. Excited at the hope of seeing Sammi again, Sirin took out the cat toy—a small purple owl—that she had bought from the corner shop. She squeezed it and the owl let out an exuberant squeak.

  Mandy jumped. “Goodness!” she said. “What on earth is that?”

  “An owl,” Sirin said. “It’s for Sammi.”

  “Ah,” said Mandy in the tone of voice that Sirin had heard a lot recently. It meant that the person was about to say something upsetting, but they were going to pretend it was okay because they didn’t want Sirin to make a fuss.

  Mandy explained in her now-don’t-get-upset voice that Sammi wasn’t in the shelter anymore because she had gone to the vet’s.

  “Sammi’s ill?” Sirin asked anxiously.

  “Er … well, not exactly,” Mandy said awkwardly.

  “Oh.” Sirin was puzzled. Why was Sammi at the vet’s if she wasn’t ill? “Can I go to the vet and see her?” she asked.

  Mandy didn’t answer, and Sirin began to get the same feeling in the pit of her stomach that she got when Mum had been moved to Intensive Care. At last Mandy spoke. “Well, er, Sammi isn’t actually there anymore, Sirin. You see, Sammi was an old cat and—”

  Suddenly Sirin knew. “You killed Sammi!” she gasped. “You killed Sammi!”

  “Of course I didn’t kill Sammi,” Mandy said, rather indignantly.

  “The vet killed Sammi,” Sirin said flatly.

  Mandy did not disagree.

  Sirin did not say anything more to Mandy. As far as she was concerned, Mandy had killed Sammi, because if Mandy had let Sammi stay, if she hadn’t made a fuss because one of the little boys was allergic to cats, then Sammi would still be alive. But Sirin knew she shouldn’t say that. She knew she must try to be polite and nice because it was Mandy’s home and Mandy’s car and that was how it was now. So Sirin sat very still and squeezed the owl so slowly that it didn’t make a sound while she heard Mandy saying how it was much kinder to Sammi not to leave her to languish in the shelter.

  Languish is a strange word, Sirin thought. Like anguish only longer.

  “And the problem was that Sammi was quite an aggressive cat,” Mandy was saying now. “She scratched and hissed, which made it hard to find a home for her. So it was for the best really.”

  Sirin crushed the owl into a tiny ball until all she could feel was the hard edges of the squeaker cutting into her palm. If only she could have made Sammi understand that if you don’t have a home and you want to survive, you have to be good. And nice. And not scratch anyone. But it was too late now. Sammi was dead.

  In Intensive Care, Sirin sat beside Mum while the nurses spoke quietly to Mandy. Mum looked small in her big bed, which Sirin thought wasn’t much like a bed at all, more like something in an operating theater. Mum had lots of tubes going into her and Sirin had gotten used to them all except for the one in her throat that did the breathing. It made a soft click with every breath and it made Mum seem not quite Mum anymore. The nurses had told Sirin that even though Mum seemed to be asleep, she
could probably hear what Sirin said, so Sirin told Mum about her homework and going to the park and what she’d seen on TV, which didn’t take long. And then she stopped, because there was no way she could tell Mum about Sammi. So she told Mum about the owl instead and made it squeak for her.

  Soon Mandy came in and said it was time to go, and the nurses said good-bye and gave her hugs. When she was halfway down the corridor, Sirin turned around to wave to the nurses again, and caught them off guard. And that was when she saw something in their faces that made the little ball of dread inside her grow even heavier.

  The ramp took Joss into the echoing corridors of Level One. Quickly getting back into Lennix mode, he strode along, head held high. Prisoners were hurrying to and fro with food and water, but now the whispers of turncoat … turncoat … turncoat … did not bother him at all. He walked confidently into the service kitchen, picked up a lunch box, and, watched silently by the bemused servant, he headed off.

  When Joss reached the Grand Atrium, he saw he had a problem: Harry. The old man had brought his chair out from the side room and was sitting reading quietly, right in front of the wicket. It seemed to everyone who passed that Harry was merely enjoying the morning sunshine that was streaming in through the high windows. In fact, Harry was acting on behalf of Bellacrux—as he always did—and Bellacrux had asked him to keep all visitors out of her chamber except for one. From his seat, Harry regarded Joss lugubriously. Why Bellacrux wanted to see the snotty new Lennix kid, Harry had no idea, but he would not dream of questioning the ancient dragon. As Joss neared, Harry got to his feet, wordlessly opened the wicket gate, and indicated for Joss to go in.

  Relieved that getting into the chamber was so simple, Joss thanked Harry—much to the old man’s surprise—and stepped through. Inside the chamber, Joss was almost blinded by a brilliant shaft of sunlight streaming in from the open flight door. Dark against the light, he saw Allie kneeling, gazing into the pile of cushions, and Bellacrux’s long and powerful neck arched protectively over Allie, the tips of her serrated spines glinting. Joss felt a great weight of worry lift from him: With Bellacrux at Allie’s side, no Lennix could ever hurt her again.

  It was only when Joss had silently crossed the floor and was standing right beside her that Allie looked up and saw him. “Oh, Joss,” she said. “Look. It’s hatched!” And there, hidden in the nest of cushions, lay a small green dragon, chewing on a large, leathery scrap of eggshell.

  “Oh, it’s beautiful,” Joss said. “May I touch it?”

  Allie looked up at Bellacrux, who nodded. The tiny dragon tolerated Joss’s hand smoothing its soft scales for a few seconds, then it let out a loud squeak and rolled over onto its back.

  “Ah,” Allie murmured. “Such a cute little tummy.”

  “And it will have a Raptor tattoo on it by tonight when they find out it hatched,” Joss whispered, tickling the hatchling’s tummy.

  Bellacrux gave an indignant snort, her breath coming hot and damp onto the back of Joss’s neck.

  “And tomorrow,” Joss said, “they want me to fly Lysander through to that other world, you know, the one Mum called the Lost Lands, and take Mirra and Tamra on their Raptor with me.” At that, Bellacrux gave an even louder snort, and Joss felt dragon spit drip down the back of his neck. Joss saw a faraway look come into Allie’s eyes and he guessed she was listening to her Lock.

  “Bellacrux says that the Lost Lands are sad without dragons. They need them back. But no Raptor must ever go through,” Allie whispered. “She says that we must take only those who are True to the Wing.”

  Joss looked puzzled.

  “It’s the old name for dragons who refused to become Raptors,” Allie explained.

  Joss loved the idea of going back to the Lost Lands and a new life away from Lennixes and Raptors, but he thought Allie was forgetting something. “But first we have to get out of Fortress Lennix,” he said. “And they’re hardly going to wave us good-bye and wish us luck, are they?”

  Allie looked up at Bellacrux for an answer. “Bellacrux says that the First and Second Flights are leaving for a big raid tonight. They will assemble at sunset. She says you must get Lysander under the cover of the preparations and bring him here, to her chamber. She will go to the muster as usual and come back for us when it is safe for us to leave. Bellacrux says …” Allie waited and listened to her Lock’s thoughts. “… that we must be brave and take our chance.”

  Joss looked up at Bellacrux’s deep green eyes. “I’m not sure how I’ll do it, but I’ll try,” he said doubtfully.

  Bellacrux gave Joss a look that told him she was not entirely happy with his answer.

  “Bellacrux says that trying is not enough,” Allie told him. “She says you must do it. Oh, and you must also bring Herlenna.”

  “Herlenna?” Joss was aghast. “But she’s locked in the dungeon.”

  Allie was quiet for a few seconds and then said, “Bellacrux says … she says you’re a Lennix, so you have a passkey.” Allie lapsed into sister talk. “Come on, Joss,” she said, “you can do this. You know you can.”

  Joss got to his feet and looked out through the opening of the launch door to the mountains beyond. He so wanted to be free of this gloomy place, free of the tyranny of the Lennixes, their violence and nastiness, and to be able to be with Allie again. But Fortress Lennix weighed him down; it made him feel trapped and powerless. Joss shook his head. “I … I don’t know if I can,” he said miserably. “I’m always having to do Lennix stuff. And they’re always watching me.”

  Allie grabbed Joss’s hand and looked him steadily in the eye. “Joss,” she told him, “you have to fix it. You have to be here, in this chamber, at sunset with Lysander and Herlenna. There is no way around it. That is what you have to do.”

  A prickle of goose bumps ran down Joss’s neck. He knew it was not only his sister looking at him; it was also the gaze of an ancient and powerful dragon. He took a deep breath and steadied himself. “Then that is what I will do,” he said. “I’ll see you at sunset. With Lysander and Herlenna.” Joss walked slowly across the chamber and then stopped. “Oh! I nearly forgot this,” he said, coming back and handing Allie the lunch box. “My turn, I reckon.”

  Allie hugged him. “Thanks, Joss. Be careful,” she whispered.

  “You be careful too,” he said. Then he walked over to the wicket door and quickly slipped out. Harry watched him go without a word.

  Joss hurried across the atrium, but when he reached the dimness of the corridor, two figures stepped out and barred his way: Tamra and Mirra.

  “Hey, Sheep-boy,” Mirra said. “Went to find a bone, did you?”

  “What?” Joss said.

  “A little sister bone for a keepsake?” Tamra asked.

  “A nice little finger bone to hang around your neck to remember her by. Ha ha!” Mirra echoed.

  Joss was speechless—how could anyone be so vile?

  “You’re lucky Bellacrux had a lamb this morning, or you’d have been meeting your sister again—inside Big B’s stomach. Haha!” Mirra added for good measure.

  “And you’re lucky you laugh at your own jokes,” Joss retorted, “because no one else is going to.”

  Joss walked quickly away, his heart pounding with rage. And as he went, he realized that the malice of the twins had pushed all fear and doubt from his mind. Whatever it took, he would make sure that tonight they would leave this dreadful place. A cool, calm clarity descended on Joss, and a plan began to take shape in his mind. He checked his Lennix watch, which remorselessly flashed up second after second, and decided he just had time to get to Bone Grind, pick up some bone ash, and get to Lysander’s chamber before he was due at the raid meeting.

  Tamra stared at the double doors guarding Bellacrux’s chamber and the immovable Harry sitting in front of them. “The kid’s still alive. He’s been to see her.”

  “Nah,” Mirra said. “You heard that roar when we put her in. I can tell you where she is right now.”

  “Whe
re?” Tamra asked with interest. She was unused to Mirra having ideas of her own.

  “A little ball of bones in the poop pile! Snarf-snarf.” Mirra snorted with glee.

  “Sometimes, Mirra,” Tamra told her twin loftily, “you are so infantile.”

  “And you’re so stupid.”

  Tamra rounded on Mirra. “No. You are stupid. Too stupid to see what is obvious. Our so-called brother is up to something. I am going to find out what exactly it is. And then …”

  “And then what?” Mirra demanded.

  “Sheep-boy will wish he had never been born.”

  Mirra fell silent. Tamra sounded just like their mother—and their mother scared Mirra more than anyone in the whole world.

  At 5:35 precisely, the raid-planning meeting finished. “You have a free hour until Flight Assembly for tonight’s Raid Flight Blue,” Edward told Joss as he leapt up from his seat. “Don’t be late.”

  “I won’t, Father,” Joss said, heading out the door as fast as he could. He had just one hour to do everything. One hour before the Lennixes came looking for him.

  Declan caught up with him on the stairs. “Hey, Joss. Want to hang out on the jump roof for an hour? Practice emergency landings?”

  “No, thanks,” Joss said, leaping down the stairs two at a time.

  “It’s good fun,” Declan said, keeping up with him. “Especially after a boring afternoon. I’ll show you the zip wire.”

  “Thanks, but I gotta go,” Joss said. He felt mean. He liked Declan—but what could he do?

  Declan had one last try. “Kaan hates it. Never goes.”

  Joss slowed down. “Hey, I’m really sorry. It sounds great. But Lysander’s just come out of his dragonsong sleep. I have to check on him.”

  Declan nodded. “Of course you do. Another time. See you up at assembly.”

  “Yeah. See you.” Joss hurtled off along the cross passage that led from the Lennix quarters to the Roost. He felt guilty and just a little bit sad: If everything went to plan, he would never see Declan again.