Secret of the Dragon Egg (Dragon Riders of Avria Book 1)

by N. A. Davenport

  When he finally made it to the back of the yacht next to his mom, his father was already lowering himself down a ladder over the side.

  “Mom, what’s happening? What about Uncle John?” Will shouted.

  “Get in the raft, now!” She turned toward the helm. “John, come on!”

  In the flashes of lightning, Will saw a covered life raft bobbing in the waves just below them. Trembling all over, he lowered himself down the ladder after his dad and crawled inside.

  A thin layer of water sloshed around the floor of the raft. Through the burning of seawater in his nose, Will smelled the acrid odor of new plastic. The roaring wind whipped at the thick canopy overhead, drowning out all other noise.

  His dad grabbed his hand and pulled him farther into the raft as Will’s mom started down the ladder. Uncle John was still on the yacht, holding the raft’s tether and waiting for his turn to board.

  Lightning flashed again. Through the opening in the raft, Will glimpsed the surging ocean and an enormous wave, like a mountain rushing toward them. Then all was dark again.

  A split second later, the wave rammed into them with the force of a freight engine.

  “Mom!” Will screamed. He reached out and grabbed a strap on her life jacket, hooking his other arm through one of the loops running around the interior of the raft. Seawater surged through the opening, spewing into his mouth and up his nose, stinging his eyes, but he held onto his mom’s life jacket with all his might. He could hear her screaming as the avalanche of water crashed over them. The churning sea tossed their raft around like a toy in a child’s bathtub.

  Then they were on the other side of the wave. The inside of the raft was sloshing with seawater. His mom was with them, drenched and coughing, but the yacht, and his uncle, were nowhere to be seen.

  Chapter Two

  Will clung to his mother while she leaned out of the life raft and screamed over the wind and waves, “John! John!”

  The storm raged all around them. The raft lifted and plunged, making it difficult to hold on to anything. Will slipped on the waterlogged plastic floor as it kept moving under him. It was like they were floating around in an inflatable pool—an inflatable pool filled with ice water.

  Another wave crashed over the raft, sending them spinning and churning so violently Will thought he might get sick.

  When the wave passed, Will’s mom shouted into the deafening wind outside again. Over the roar of the storm, it was impossible to hear if there was an answer.

  Finally, after several more minutes of shouting, she backed into the raft and zipped the flap closed, sealing them in a cold, dark cocoon of wet plastic. “We have to keep the water out,” she said. Her voice sounded rough and strained.

  “What about Uncle John!” Will shouted, shivering in the cold.

  “He had a life vest on,” his dad reminded him. “And the yacht had a second raft, too. He might have made it to that one.”

  His mom slumped against the side of the raft for a moment, completely silent. In the darkness, Will couldn’t see her expression. A moment later, he felt her gently prying his fingers away from the strap on her life vest. He hadn’t even realized he was still holding onto it.

  “But what if he didn’t?” Will demanded. “Shouldn’t we still look for him?”

  “Our top concern right now is keeping you safe,” his dad said.

  Nobody spoke for a while after that, but Will could hear his parents moving around.

  Cold water sloshed against his legs. Wind roared constantly against the plastic canopy. Waves lifted and dropped their raft over and over.

  Will trembled in the darkness as the icy water sloshed around him, sucking all the warmth out of his body.

  A few minutes later, a green glow stick cracked and started shining light on their surroundings. Will’s dad hung the stick from a loop in the canopy's roof, where the eerie light flooded their bubble of safety.

  “All right, let’s get everyone warm,” his dad said. From a plastic sack tied to the wall of the raft, he pulled out thin emergency blankets and handed one to Will. “Wrap yourself in this.”

  The other he wrapped around Will’s mom. She was still sitting by the opening of the raft, staring blankly ahead in shock.

  Will’s teeth chattered incessantly as he took the blanket. It took him a few tries to get it to cover his body without sliding around the floor of the raft. His muscles were all tight, and it was hard to move. He eventually wrapped himself up like a burrito and felt a little warmer, though he was still soaking wet.

  His parents wrapped themselves up as well, clinging to the ropes inside the raft to keep from sliding around, and now his mom seemed to come to herself enough to hand each of them a small white tablet. “Eat this. It will keep you from getting seasick.”

  Will chewed the tablet and swallowed. It tasted like raspberries and medicine. Even though he was warmer now, he still trembled all over. His mom and dad scooted next to him, and they huddled together for warmth while the storm continued to toss them back and forth and rain beat against the canopy.

  They drifted at sea for hours, crashing through waves they couldn’t see, rising and falling like they were being swung around in a plastic bag by a careless giant.

  Will imagined his uncle out there in the water, with only a life vest keeping him above the waves. Or would a life vest even work in such a horrible storm? Had he made it to the other life raft? Or was he gone forever?

  After a long, terrifying, and miserable ordeal, the thunder, wind, and rain died down. The waves became shorter and choppier, preventing any hope of sleep. The waves peaked and curled like they were trying to turn the raft over. A few times, Will thought he heard the bottom of the raft scrape against something.

  Then the water surged under them, and the raft started moving at an alarming speed. They all held on tightly to the handholds as they rose and dropped, then crashed into something. The raft tumbled and scraped against what sounded like rocks and sand underneath.

  “Did we hit land?” Will asked.

  Another wave lifted them up. The raft rushed forward again, then dropped. The bottom scraped against something solid again as they drifted back.

  “It can’t be,” his mom said. “We should be hundreds of miles from land.”

  The water continued to surge and push them forward, scraping the plastic bottom of the raft along what felt like a rocky bank.

  Will’s dad pulled himself toward the opening. “I’m going to look out,” he announced. “Maybe the storm carried us farther than we thought before we abandoned ship.” He unzipped the plastic flap and poked his head out.

  “Be careful!” his mom warned as another wave surged under them. This time, Will could feel the raft rushing back again as the water receded, almost like they were washing in and out on the waves of a beach.

  “It is land!” his dad shouted. “Look!”

  Will and his mom scrambled to the opening and poked their heads out just as another wave crashed over them. The water lifted the raft and pushed it forward as they looked out on a rocky twilit beach, littered with leaves and branches from the swaying forest above. The wind coming from offshore whipped through Will’s hair as he stared around in amazement.

  “Where are we?” he asked through chattering teeth. He didn’t see any signs of civilization, only a dark, deserted beach lined with trees.

  Another wave pushed them farther ashore, scraping the raft along rocks and sand for a few feet before giving up and retreating into deeper water.

  “I don’t know,” his mom answered. “This doesn’t look like the Azores to me.”

  “We should get out while we can and get dry,” his dad said. Without waiting for a reply, he jumped out and started hauling on the rope, pulling the raft toward the shore.

  Will and his mom jumped out, too. The water was icy, and the sand under his bare feet felt rough and gritty.

  He grabbed the rope, hauling the raft into shallower water. When they finally pulled it onto
a bed of dry rocks and crusted seaweed, they collapsed in exhaustion, leaning against the inflated side of the raft.

  Will’s entire body ached. His muscles throbbed and, though he couldn’t see his skin in the dim light, he was sure bruises covered his body.

  None of them tried to go back inside the raft, though Will was sure it would be warmer in there. The solid ground felt comforting, even though the world still seemed to rock and sway under him.

  “We need to try looking for John,” Will’s mom mumbled, sounding half asleep.

  His dad sighed, watching the choppy waves in the moonlit sea.

  Will closed his eyes and grimaced. What were the chances that his uncle had survived? Still, if Will was lost at sea, he knew his uncle would never lose hope until he found him.

  “That can wait until we get some rest and have more light to see by,” his dad said. “We aren’t in any condition to mount a search and rescue right now.”

  Will’s mom groaned softly and rested her head on his dad’s shoulder. A few minutes later, they were all asleep.

  The sun was already well over the horizon when Will woke up, still sore all over but now also terribly thirsty. His mouth was dry, his skin was tight, and even his clothes were stiff and crusted with sand and salt.

  He groaned and stiffly sat up, brushing the clinging sand off his face. It took him a moment to remember what had happened. The storm, the sinking boat, losing his uncle out at sea—it all felt like a horrible nightmare. Will’s heart sank as his memories caught up to him, and he realized that it was all true.

  He blinked his bleary eyes and scanned the shoreline. As far as he could see, a beach of black sand stretched in both directions. White shells and barnacles dotted the dark beach like confetti. Gentle waves lapped rhythmically against the sand, making it hard to believe that any storm had ever visited this shore.

  Down on the beach, Will’s dad walked along the waterfront with a makeshift bag slung over his shoulder. He was gazing at the ground as he walked and stooping to pick up things now and then.

  “Hey! Dad!” Will’s voice croaked and ached when he shouted.

  His dad heard him anyway and turned to wave Will over.

  Standing stiffly, Will limped and minced his way over the shifting sand and barnacle-covered rocks. The sun baked the dark sandy beach, making heat radiate from above and below. It would have been unbearable if not for the constant cool wind coming from over the water.

  “Hey,” he said when he caught up with his dad on the shore. “Any sign of Uncle John?”

  His father had his button-down shirt tied over his head to protect him from the sun. His skin was already glistening with sweat. He reached into the bag he was carrying and pulled out a plastic pouch of emergency water, offering it to Will. “Here, take a drink. But not too much,” he warned. “We have to ration this until we can find a source of fresh water.”

  Will pulled off the cap and swallowed a few gulps of cool water. It was hard to make himself stop drinking; he was so thirsty!

  “Your mother went to the other side of the bay to search for your uncle. We haven’t seen any sign of him yet.” He gestured behind Will. “But here comes your mom now.”

  They both watched as Will’s mom picked her way over the sharp rocks through the beach. They made their way out to meet her, and Will’s heart sank when he noticed her expression.

  “There’s nothing there, at least not as far as I could see,” she said.

  “Should we try the other way, then?” his dad asked.

  His mom sighed and nodded sadly. “We’ll also need to find fresh water, and hopefully some civilization.” She wiped sweat from her brow and shook her head. “C’mon, let’s all get out of the sun.”

  They marched back up the beach to the raft, where his mom and dad gathered supplies from the emergency kit, bags for water, medicine, fire starter, a first aid kit, food rations, the thermal blankets that had kept them warm at sea, a small knife, and anything else they could find.

  “Shouldn’t we stay here? In case someone comes looking for us?” Will asked. “What if Uncle John washes up here like we did?”

  “Normally, yes,” his dad said, stuffing the wadded-up plastic thermal blanket into his bag. “But we’re running low on water. If we don’t find somewhere to refill our water bags soon, we’ll be in trouble. Without fresh water, we can only hope to survive here for a few days at most.”

  “We’ll leave an indicator to let people know which way we went,” his mom assured him. “In fact, that’s something you can do while we’re getting ready. Make a big arrow out of rocks pointing that way.” She pointed up the beach. “We’re going to just keep walking and hopefully find a freshwater stream.”

  Will nodded and set about his work, gathering all the light-colored stones and seashells he could find. The sand and most of the rocks on the beach were very dark, like coal, so the light-colored ones stood out. He arranged the rocks and shells into a big white arrow that pointed along the beach. Hopefully, anyone who found their discarded raft would see this and know which way they went.

  “Are you ready to go, Will?” his mom called as he finished up his arrow.

  “Yeah, I guess so.” He took a step back to appraise his handiwork.

  “Let’s get a move on, then!” his dad called.

  Together, they started hiking along the beach, keeping far up on the shore, under the shade of the trees. They sometimes had to pick their way over piles of driftwood, and this slowed them down, but it was better than walking along in full glaring sunshine.

  As it was, even with the cool breeze coming off the water, the warm summer sun sapped them of their energy, making them sweat and pant as they hiked along the coast.

  Wildlife scuttled in the trees over them, mostly out of sight. Will caught the flash of a black-and-white striped tail, like a raccoon, only the tail looked longer and more slender than he would have expected for a raccoon. The creature it belonged to scurried through the branches as swiftly as a squirrel.

  Once, while he was trudging along behind his parents, a slight movement in the shadows caught his attention. Will looked and gasped at what he saw.

  The creature looked kind of like a deer in body shape, but it had two long, pointed horns instead of antlers. It had a creamy yellow hide that seemed to shine in the shadows, like someone had taken a golden pearl and turned it into an animal.

  As Will watched, the deer-like creature swished its tail to flick a fly at its front shoulder. Will blinked. The animal’s tufted tail was like a cow’s, only longer. Not like a deer at all.

  “Hey, Mom, Dad, do you see—” As soon as Will spoke, the horned creature sprang away into the trees without a trace.

  “What is it, Will?” his dad asked, wearily turning around. Sweat glistened on his forehead.

  “I just saw . . . something. Some kind of animal.”

  “Oh? What was it?” His dad’s eyes lit up with interest despite his exhaustion. Will’s dad was a college biology professor. He was always interested in studying strange animals and plants.

  Will hurried forward to keep pace with him. “I don’t know. It looked kind of like a deer. But it wasn’t.” He tried his best to explain what he’d seen.

  “That’s very interesting. If we can identify the flora and fauna of this place, we might get a better idea of where we are.”

  They started looking around at the plant life, the insects crawling over the rocks, and the small furry creatures scampering in the trees.

  “You know, there are a lot of creatures here I’ve never even heard of before,” his dad remarked as they watched a sinuous scaly reptile, like a green snake with stubby legs, slither into a hole.

  They continued talking about the plants and animals as they walked until even studying the local wildlife couldn’t keep their interest anymore as thirst overwhelmed them.

  Will and his parents finished the last of the water not long after midday, but they still hadn’t found a river or creek. The coastline
stretched on and on, shifting from black rocks to dark powdery sand. The sun climbed behind them in the sky, then settled lower in front of them. Will kept his eyes downcast, watching the ground in front of him to avoid the searing glare. Sweat trickled down his forehead and dripped from his nose. Salt crusted his clothing from dried ocean water. It felt rough against his skin and chafed where it rubbed, leaving uncomfortable rashes in embarrassing places.

  Now and then, he scanned the shoreline to their left, hoping he might see the scattered remains of their yacht or some sign of his uncle. All he ever saw was bleached white driftwood, looking like twisted old bones, and the occasional purple and red crab scurrying across the sand.

  His head throbbed. His throat felt dry. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Will’s mom stumbled as she walked on, too. His father plodded ahead in front, shielding her from the sun’s glare while dragging his feet sluggishly in the sandy dirt.

  Then, his father tripped over a twisted branch and fell to the ground with a groan.

  His mom gasped and crouched by him, pressing her hand against his flushed forehead. “We can’t go on like this,” she murmured. Still, she tugged at his dad’s arm, trying to get him to stand.

  “Wait,” Will said. “Why don’t we rest? It’ll be cooler in there.” He pointed to the shade under nearby trees.

  “If we stop now, we might never start again,” his dad groaned, trying to rise to his feet.

  Will felt like his head would split open. His stomach churned, threatening to expel whatever food might still be inside. His exposed skin burned. But at least he could still walk.

  “Give me the water pouches.” He held out his hand.

  “What? Why?” his mom asked, still tugging at his dad’s arm.

  “You two try to make it to the shade. I’m going to look for water. When I find some, I’ll bring some back for you.”

  “No, Will, you shouldn’t go off on your own,” his mom said, groaning as she helped his dad sit up.

  They didn’t have time to sit around arguing. Will knew his parents wouldn’t willingly let him run off on his own, but if he didn’t go now, they would lose their last chance at survival.