The goatherd had blossomed more rolling sweat with each step he had taken beyond that five-yard point. I think he expected to walk straight into a cliff and break his toes. When his mother ordered him to come with her, he turned and raced to her side. They and the goats ran for the gate.
I shed my camouflage once they were inside the village walls and climbed down from my place on the black stone. Once on the sandy ground, I walked straight toward the round curve of orange stone. There was no sign whatever of the barrier. I even waved my paws through the air, seeking its power. I’d felt it—somewhat—on my way to find those goats. Where had it gone since then? No one had worked a spell big enough to destroy it. I would have sensed that.
Remembering the next barrier, I ran up the stone, which quivered under my paws: the earth was shuddering. At the top of the formation I braced myself to look at the black lava rocks around the orange, and at the village to the south of my position. Was I visible to anyone who might pass, if the barrier was gone? I had to be if those humans had seen the orange stone. I camouflaged myself a second time, then moved on, seeking the next barrier as the stone beneath me trembled. I hadn’t even noticed that it was gone when I’d passed this way before, wrapped in strange visions. Why? What had destroyed the barriers?
At last I reached Afra’s clearing. She knelt beside the open bundle that had been on Spots’s back, a small pot of one of Daine’s healing creams in her hand. She put it down when she saw me. There were tear stains on her cheeks. “You go too far! The village mages have not tried to break the magic on this place because they believe there is none, only stones and desert. Now you have taken costly things! If the mages track them here, who is to say they cannot shatter the spells that hide us?” She wiped sweat from her face with a hand that trembled. “And that you did this now, with the earth dancing again …”
If the village mages could have pierced the illusion of the Maze of Stone they would have done so the first time Afra was spotted at their garbage heap. They didn’t even know it was there. Numair was another matter, but now, with the barrier gone, we needed him to come, and Daine, too. Or we needed to go to him and Daine, out through the taller rocks, before the ground opened up under us. Afra could not stay here. The goatherd and his mother had to be spreading the news that the village had land this afternoon that had not existed that morning. People would be coming if there wasn’t an earthquake first.
I straightened the blankets that had served to bundle up what we had taken and began to put Afra’s belongings in their center.
Kitten, what are you doing? Why are you packing? Spots pawed the ground, nervous. He knew how I behaved if we were safe and if we were not safe.
I hissed at him, the noise I used to mean “trouble,” and pointed back in the direction from which I had come.
Spots snorted in disgust. Why does this happen just as I begin to like a place? He began to help me pack, choosing only the most important things to place on the blankets.
Afra stared at us. “What are you doing now? Are you packing?” She set down the cream. “Please! I’m frightened enough with the ground so restless, but this is the safest place for us to be. There’s no tall stone here to fall over on us. Please stop! I have to be calm for Uday, surely you know that!”
I went over to her and gripped her wrist, then pulled her and pointed in the direction of the path back to the cave—and the imperial camp. I opened my mouth to explain that soon we would have curious villagers entering our sanctuary, but of course all that came out was baby chatter.
“Go back there?” Afra demanded, pulling free of my grip. “That place is surrounded by high rocks and cliffs. We’ll be crushed!”
I shook my head. I was nearly screaming with frustration, cursing my lack of speech. I hunkered down on my hindquarters and placed a group of small stones together, some of them black, some orange. I put the orange ones in the center, as they seemed to be in the true rock formation. Then I drew a circle around them. The line was jagged. Afra was not the only one made edgy by the shaking ground, but we dragons are supposed to control ourselves.
Afra nodded. “The magic, yes.” Spots continued to pack, rolling up the bundle of blankets.
I wiped away the line around the collection of rocks. Then I stabbed a claw into the area where I’d erased my line and glared at Afra.
She wiped sweat from her upper lip. “No. I don’t believe you. The villagers told me that the Rock Maze has been there ever since their people can remember.” I stabbed the ground again. Afra was still shaking her head when Uday woke and began to cry. “I have to feed my child,” she whispered. She went to him while I threw the rocks into the pond.
I wanted to throw myself in after them—not to drown, only to cool my temper and my nerves. It made me half-mad to be unable to speak at a time like this! I could tell her about Daine and Numair, about how they would be able to help her and the baby! We wouldn’t be dithering here, but on our way to safety!
Should I go get Daine? Spots asked me.
I was about to say yes, but the ground heaved under me. I shook my head and pointed to Afra and Uday, then made running motions with my claws. We had to get them away first.
Spots began to nudge Afra toward the way out of the clearing. Each time she turned away from his nose, back toward the pond, he would turn with her and begin to nudge again. He was very stubborn. I often wished I could tell him that I suspected he had a mule in his ancestry. I had so many jokes I could not tell him.
I walked around the pond to think of something, but all I could think was that we had to go. The water’s surface rippled under the force of the quivering earth. Loose rocks tumbled everywhere. I reached deep into the ground with my power, feeling for the cracks in the earth that might open and swallow us, but I found none. That meant nothing. In Numair’s books, I had read that the deadliest faults were miles underground.
When I returned, Afra had taken away everything that Spots had placed on the blankets. She then rolled up the blankets themselves to make a rough circle in the open, away from the rocks, where Uday might crawl in safety, free of his swaddlings.
I did shriek then, and scold. I had left to get myself under control, not to say I had conceded the fight! Spots walked over to my side to let Afra know he agreed with me. His white-and-brown withers were dark: he too was sweating, his fear of the shakes obvious in the way he planted his feet and watched the stone around us. I felt guilty. I had been so busy with my tantrum that I had not even asked my friend how he did.
Afra stood in front of Uday, and said, “The barrier has kept me safe for longer than I have known you, strangers. We are safer in this open ground than we will be running through those canyons. Go if you wish, but Uday and I stay here.”
I wanted to weep in frustration. Humans!
We did not leave them. I went to the far side of the pond and whistled cracking spells at the small rocks there, turning them to gravel, until I had myself under control. Then Spots and I gathered deadwood for a fire, lurching to and fro to get the wood that lay on the ground. Uday crowed and raised his arms for me when we came back, which touched me deeply. Afra, about to swaddle him again, gave me a nod, but the look in her eyes was wary.
I’d just started the fire when we heard the dogs. Afra jumped to her feet, then stumbled as the ground gave a hard shake. She looked at me. “They sound so close,” she whispered.
I raised one claw and put it to my muzzle, to silence her. Then I clambered up over the orange boulders to see how near the villagers had come. The stone rocked beneath me for a moment, then settled. I raced forward before it had another spasm. Finally, I saw the last rise, the one before the slope to where the barrier had once been.
This time I did not trip down the crack past the rock hyraxes, if they were still there. I crouched and called my magic, letting it rise as fire all around me. When the stone beneath me begin to scorch, I rose onto my hind legs and walked up the last rise.
The villagers stood at the foot of t
he orange stone. Three mages were in the lead, each with their Gifts blazing in their hands, ready for use. Men and women stood around the mages with dogs on leashes. The dogs were barking and yowling. They knew they were supposed to be hunting something. They wanted to be taken off the leash so they could do their jobs. More villagers armed with bows and spears stood behind the leaders and dog handlers. From their reaction as I stood up, they had not expected anyone to meet them here.
I went red with rage. When humans say that, they mean their faces go red. When I go red, it is my scales that turn that color, blotting out my normal blue-gold. I let my anger flow into my power, so that the air around me burned scarlet. Some of the villagers began to run. I stood all the way up on my hind feet, stretched my neck out as far as it would go, raised my head, and blew a long plume of spell breath, shaped as a stream of flame.
More people ran then, but they were not the right ones. “It is the witch’s illusion!” cried the chief mage, who had spoken with Daine only that morning. “Now!” He and the other mages threw fist-sized balls of magic at me. They hurt as they struck, though my power devoured them. I screeched a breaking spell, shattering the weapons of those who had stayed to attack. Now most of them ran, too.
“Illusions don’t wield magic,” I heard a mage say.
“Again!” cried the chief mage, not caring.
I did not wait for a second attack. I could endure the hurt. My problem was my own magic. If it devoured more power, it might get too hot for me to bear.
I turned and galloped for Afra’s camp, half-stumbling all the way. The earth, so calm while I had faced the villagers, now shook harder than ever. As I skidded down the last slope, the rock bucked like a stallion, pitching me into the pond. My magic evaporated. The cool water eased the heat that the use of so much power created. I actually rolled there for a moment before I remembered I could not swim.
I scrabbled at the bottom mud, trying to crawl up to the water’s edge. Then two strong hands gripped my forelegs and pulled. I kicked back with my hind legs as Afra dragged me from the mud, water, and clinging strands of weed.
Sitting on the ground, Afra plucked some of it off of my back. “What are these for, if you can’t fly?” she asked, passing a gentle hand over my tiny, rudimentary wings.
I shook my head, sprinkling her with more water, and cupped a paw around my ear. She heard the shouts of humans in the distance.
“You were right?” she whispered. “The barrier is truly gone?”
She did not wait for my answer, but jumped to her feet and hurried to tie a bundle of her things to Spots’s back. Even though she had not believed me about the barrier when I left, she had been worried enough about the dogs to pack.
She is quick to work when she is frightened, Spots said with approval. She would do well in the army or the Queen’s Riders, if she did not have to worry about Uday. He pitched as the ground shook harder. I looked for Uday. He was swaddled and tucked in his carry-basket once more.
The villagers were still coming. From the sound of their arguments, they feared their mages more than they feared being caught under a rock, at least for the moment.
Afra was hoisting Uday’s carry-basket onto her shoulders when I heard new voices in the canyons between us and the imperial camp. One male whined that the protection from earthquake and falling rocks had best be good. Another cursed “that mad, thieving horse” and “that evil little dragon.” The soldier who had tried to stop Spots was coming to reclaim him. At least one mage came with him, as well as more soldiers. Did I not have enough trouble on my scales?
Afra started to lead Spots toward the stream that flowed away from the pond. I grabbed her arm and towed her toward the trail that we had used to come here.
“No,” she whispered, tugging her arm from my grip. “That goes toward the village.”
I took her arm again and pulled harder.
“They’ll kill me,” she snapped. She yanked free.
She would not trust any symbol for mage, even if she knew one. I knew no symbol for “emperor.” I quickly drew a picture of a crown.
She staggered as the ground shook, and clung to Spots’s mane to keep her feet. “A king? Are you mad? We have no kings,” she said, “only an—Oh, no. No, no.” She shook her head, her eyes wild. “The emperor is the judge of all Carthak. He will return me to my master if he doesn’t execute me for all I’ve stolen!”
We were out of time. The chief mage was the first of the villagers to top the orange stone rise. “Witch!” he cried, pointing. “Thief!”
I got in front of Afra and threw up my best shield as spears of yellow fire sped from his fingers right at her. They struck my power and flew straight into the air. I rose on my hind legs as the other two mages and the remaining villagers joined the chief mage. The dogs were nowhere to be seen. They must have fled for home like sensible creatures.
The mages’ Gifts shimmered and blazed around their hands, the chief mage’s brightest by far. I wriggled my hind feet, seeking good purchase. Then I summoned my own magic, letting it crackle like lightning over my scales. I was almost blind with the rage that comes from using too much power. In my fury, I meant to cook those annoying humans where they stood.
“Kitten!” I heard Daine cry, her voice shocked. “Bad girl!”
I looked over my shoulder and released my magic into the empty air. Daine stood behind me. She looked cross. She and Numair had come with the imperial soldiers I had heard. Numair held a protective shield of magic over all of them, keeping falling rocks from their heads back in the canyon. I could see its white sparks shimmer against its sheer black fire.
Daine looked at me, then at the villagers, her eyebrows knit in a frown. “Kit, you know better than to threaten humans. And I would like to know why these humans are threatening you and your friends!”
Numair surveyed all of us. “Your pardon, my dear, but the magical energies here are making my ears ring,” he said in his usual mild way. “Something very big is about to happen within these stones.”
That made my ears prick. Magic? Earthquakes weren’t magical.
“Perhaps we should all return to the emperor’s camp and finish this discussion?” Numair asked. “I am certain that Kitten did not adapt such a threatening posture without reason.” His Gift flowed out from him to enclose Afra, Uday, Spots, and me, but not the villagers. My foster father had seen that we were under attack from them.
Afra started to raise her hand, her magic gathering around her fingers, but I grabbed her wrist. I was fairly certain that, even with her two-colored magic, she would get hurt if she tried to fight Numair.
She stared at me, her eyes wide with fear. “Is that the emperor?” she whispered.
Spots and I shook our heads.
“Stand away!” screamed the village’s chief mage. “This woman is a witch and a thief! She is ours to deal with! Call your monster off!”
Daine’s frown deepened. “Kit’s no more a monster than you,” she called back. “Though just now you’re looking fair monstrous to me!”
No one heard what the mage said next. The orange rock under him bucked and split. He and the other villagers were thrown, as I had been, into the pond. Chunks of rock dropped away from the orange stone. The villagers who escaped the pond tried to run down the canyon where the stream flowed, only to find that boulders were blocking the way.
No one wanted to come near us. They stayed on the far side of the pond.
As more orange pieces rolled onto the open ground, darker stone was uncovered. The inner rock was brown, glassy stuff. Once most of the orange stone had fallen away, the brown stone began to jerk and rise. Its ridges shifted as larger, angled pieces appeared out of the mass of rock beyond our view. The assemblage of stone, oddly shaped, even sculpted, kept turning toward us. One piece set itself on the sand next to Daine and Numair.
I was looking at a lizardlike foreleg. It was made of a glossy brown stone filled with a multitude of different-colored fires that blazed in shee
ts, darts, and ripples under each stone scale.
The center section up above bent in a U as the dragon—it was a dragon—hauled its still-captive hindquarters from their stone casings under the earth. Then it had to pull its tail loose, the tail being trapped in a different section of rock. I saw the foreleg press up. With a roar of shattering stone, the dragon forced its upper body free, then its tail.
Raining gravel and powdered rock, the opal dragon turned. It brought its head around and down to our level, regarding us with glowing crimson eyes. Their pupils, slit just like mine, were the deep green of emeralds. Free now of its prison, it was not so big as I’d thought. Numair was six feet and six inches; the dragon stood that tall at the shoulder. Head to hip it was sixteen feet. The tail I could not measure. This dragon carried it in curled loops on its back. I noticed its other peculiarity right away as well: it had no wings.
It said something that flattened me. I squeaked, in my body or my mind, I don’t know which. I tried to meet its eyes. The dragon spoke again, using very different words and talking slowly. I shook my head in the hope that I could make my ears open up, but my ears were not the problem. The dragon spoke within my skull, expecting me to understand. The language was completely unfamiliar.
Daine raced over and picked me up. “Stop it!” she cried, glaring at the great creature. “She can’t understand you! She’s just a baby!”
I shook her off. I didn’t mean to, but I was trying to understand this being. Was it a relative of mine? Didn’t the dragon ancestors mention kindred of ours, dragons fashioned of stone, flame, and water, at the gathering I had attended when I was nine? I was busy playing with my cousins, but I had listened to some of the stories.
The dragon looked at Daine, then at me. It tried another series of sounds, gentler ones. I heard something familiar, sleep, and called back with my own mind, Awake?
The dragon flashed a look at the village’s chief mage, who was trying to creep up on it. He shrank away, his hands blazing with his Gift. The dragon stretched its head out on its long neck and blew a puff of air straight at the mage. His Gift vanished from his hands. He gasped and plunged his hands into the pond.
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