The Lost Lands Page 17

  Inwardly, Sirin cheered the girl on.

  With a sigh, she leaned back and eyed the bus station across the street. There were already a few people waiting for the next bus. The hook in Sirin’s ribs pulled harder.

  Then, so fleeting she almost missed it, a dark blur shot across the sky, out of one cloud and into another.

  Sirin’s heart tumbled.

  That blur had been moving much too fast, and much too low, to be an airplane. Or a balloon or a kite or whatever other stupid thing the American boy thought it was.

  Sirin jumped to her feet and slammed her spoon onto the table, then turned around. The American kids blinked at her, startled by the fact that she was glaring directly at the boy.

  “You got a problem?” he said.

  His sister looked near tears and lowered her gaze to her hot-pink sneakers. There were fluffy pom-poms threaded on the laces. Sirin thought Joss would highly approve.

  “You should be careful what you say,” said Sirin. “You never know who might be listening, and dragons are very offended by not being believed in.”

  The boy scoffed. “Great! Another dweebus! Honestly, this whole boring vacation has been one stupid thing after—”

  He was interrupted by a ferocious roar that shook the café and the very tables they were using. Sirin’s spoon clattered and then fell to the concrete floor.

  The boy’s and girl’s mouths dropped open as a dragon dropped from the sky, landing on the street right in front of them. With her back still turned to it, Sirin grinned at the tourist kids.

  “Enjoy the rest of your holiday,” she said. “Oh … and I’d put away the cameras if I were you. The Loch Ness Dragon’s sort of got a thing about them.”

  With that, she turned around and ran to the street. She was a little stunned to see Bellacrux, with Allie waiting atop her, but she was also terribly glad. As cars screeched to a halt and people tumbled out of them, screaming, Sirin sprinted to Bellacrux’s side and looked up at Allie.

  “I’m sorry,” Allie said bluntly. “I was unfair and unkind. If you can forgive me, I can make it up to you, Sirin. I should never have left you alone. But Joss and Lysander and Bellacrux and I … we are your family now, if you’ll have us.”

  Sirin stared up at her for a long moment. “You … came back for me.”

  “Yes. I need you, Sirin. I can’t do this alone. I’m not strong enough. But together, we might be. Please.”

  Allie had come back for her.

  Allie needed her.

  She’d had a family, her mum. And she hadn’t been able to save her, not with all the wishes and prayers in the world.

  But here was a new family that maybe, just maybe, she could save. They were strange and fierce and half of them were covered in scales … but Sirin loved them.

  “Yes,” said Sirin. “Yes, I want that very much. And I’m sorry too for everything I said.”

  “Then get up here,” said Allie, grinning. “Because you’re in charge of the map.”

  Taking Allie’s hand, Sirin scrambled up onto Bellacrux. Once she was seated, she waved at the American kids. The girl waved back, wide-eyed, while the boy cowered under the table, clearly terrified out of his mind.

  Bellacrux lifted off with a powerful thrust of her wings, then pulled away from the town and soared over the loch. Below them, a sinuous shape lunged out of the water, performing a spectacular leap before crashing down again.

  “Good-bye, Thorval!” Sirin called. “Thanks for everything!”

  Thorval poked his head out of the water and breathed a fiery farewell flame, before vanishing back into the deep with the smallest of ripples.

  All had not gone quite to D’Mara’s plans, but she felt like a boulder rolling downhill. She was gathering momentum, and nothing would stand in her way now. So even when Joshua Moran refused to tell her where to find the Skyspinner’s Heart, she found a way around it—in the form of a terrified Earth man she and Valkea snatched up during his morning jog. It had taken all of twenty minutes to open another portal, grab the man, and get the information out of him. D’Mara had been a little stunned with how easy it was. All she had to do was ask him where the city with the giant green lady was, then let Valkea snap her fangs a bit, and the man had spilled everything. Blood and bone, but these Lost Lands humans were soft, weak creatures.

  New York City.

  D’Mara chanted the words in her head like a prayer as she walked through the loggia over the landing yard.

  New York City was their destination, and the jogger had even drawn a map for D’Mara. Really, conquering this new world would be a breeze, if all humans were as helpless and quivering as that one had been.

  So despite this slight hitch in her plans, D’Mara was in high spirits on the morning of the biggest raid the Raptors would ever undertake. Below, the dragons assembled for a morning repast of mutton and fish, while the blacksmith—brought in from his remote village—prepared his tools and fire for the forging. D’Mara had pulled twelve scales from Lysander, and each one would be placed on the brow of a senior Raptor today. The entire First Flight would enter the Lost Lands within a matter of hours.

  “D’Mara.”

  She stopped, irritation prickling her skin. “What is it, Edward?”

  Her husband stood uncertainly in the doorway to the lower Roost. “It’s Krane. He’s unwell.”

  “Who?”

  Edward blinked. “K-Krane. Your … former Lock?”

  D’Mara stared at him. “Oh. Right. Krane, of course.”

  “You do remember Krane, don’t you?” Edward laughed, as if he were asking if she remembered the sky was up. But then he must have seen the look on her face, because he frowned and added, “Don’t you?”

  “It’s a bit foggy.” She waved a hand dismissively. “I’m sure he was a fine Lock.”

  “You don’t remember him,” Edward said. He gaped at her with apparent horror. “D’Mara, what did you do? I didn’t even know you could break a Lock’s bond!”

  “Well,” she said, “turns out you can. And I don’t have time to tend to some sickly … what’s his name again?”

  Her husband backed away, staring at her like she was a monster. “Blood and bone, woman, that’s cold, even for you. Krane may be dying because of whatever you did to him. He’s got grieving sickness. And what about Tamra? She didn’t look too good either. Is this because you didn’t want to name Decimus as the new Grand, and Krane was too ill for the job? So you went and dumped him and Locked with the most treacherous Raptor you could find?”

  “Valkea is strong,” D’Mara returned stiffly. “She has ambition and vision. Actually, she’s quite a lot like me. Why shouldn’t we be Locked?”

  “Because … because—”

  “It’s disgusting,” said a raspy voice behind D’Mara.

  She turned to see her daughter leaning against the wall. Tamra’s skin was sallow, her eyes sunken in and her body hunched as if she’d aged fifty years.

  “Tamra! You look dreadful.”

  “You stole Valkea from me,” Tamra said. “You wretched woman.”

  “Tamra,” Edward said. “Don’t speak that way to your mother.”

  “Mother!” Tamra coughed out. “Ha! That is no mother. There isn’t a mother’s bone in her body. She’s nothing but greed and treachery and spite. She’d feed us all to her precious Raptors if she thought it would help her become empress of the Lost Lands or whatever it is she thinks to call herself.”

  “Enough!” snapped D’Mara. “You’re clearly delirious, and unfit to join the raid. Go lie down or something, and consider how you address me!”

  Tamra laughed, but it turned into a cough, and she slipped away, her feet dragging.

  D’Mara turned and brushed past Edward. “What are you looking at?” she said. “Don’t you have a raid to organize, you useless cretin? Go!”

  He slunk away but gave her one last look. Disgust. She’d never seen such a thing from Edward before. As she continued on her way, D’Mara could
swear she heard laughter from behind the closed doorways. Once, she stopped to kick one open, ready to execute whoever stood behind it, but the room was empty. The laughter slipped around and behind her, and she whirled, but there was no one there either.

  “Ingrates,” she muttered, and she kept walking.

  Honestly, what was happening to her clan? They’d all thought she was getting weak, but she’d returned stronger than ever, with the key to the Lost Lands and a powerful new Lock. They were jealous, she decided. Edward had thought he’d become the new head of the clan if Decimus was named Grand. Tamra had thought she would usurp her mother with Valkea’s help.

  But D’Mara was more cunning than any of them. By Locking with Valkea, she’d destroyed all their treasonous plans in one fell sweep. It had been a masterstroke of genius.

  By the time D’Mara reached the landing yard, she’d nearly convinced herself that Locking with Valkea had been her idea from the start.

  Raptors crowded the yard. D’Mara found their deafening clamor comforting; the insidious laughter that followed her couldn’t possibly be heard over the noise.

  Only the First Flight would be departing, but no one wanted to miss the send-off. Those who had been chosen strutted proudly, displaying their new Silver scales for all to see and admire. The day was sunny, and the scales glinted like jewels, each one forged at the center of the Raptors’ brows. Soon, all the Raptors would have Silver scales of their own, but there wasn’t time for that now, so only the fiercest of them had been forged so far. D’Mara inspected each one and found them impeccably applied. If she’d been in a better mood, she might have ordered the release of one of the blacksmith’s children. But after being ambushed by Edward and Tamra, she wasn’t feeling particularly keen on the idea of families, and so instead, she sent a servant to bring the man a cask of her finest ale. That would have to do.

  “Valkea,” she said, striding toward her Lock. She spread her arms. “We are nearly ready.”

  Valkea gave her a sidelong look; she was having her nails sharpened by a team of three cowering human servants. About time, D’Mara. This place lacks discipline. I will have my work cut out for me whipping these mongrels into form. You’ve let them all get lazy and slow.

  D’Mara simmered but let that one go.

  “Flight Silver,” said D’Mara, looking out across the assembled Raptors. Her heart beat with excitement. Hundreds of dragon and human eyes were fixed on her and Valkea. She wore her fiercest raiding clothes—black leathers, metal-tipped boots to her knees, an assortment of daggers and swords and firestix, and a scarlet-lined cape that billowed around her.

  “Today,” said D’Mara, “we reclaim what is ours. We return from our long and unjust exile, to a world ripe for the picking. I have seen the Lost Lands, and they are weak. The people there have forgotten us. They no longer watch the skies, fearing the shadow of Raptors, dreading the roar of our fury. But no more!”

  The Raptors responded with eager anticipation, lifting wings, rattling scales, summoning flames that danced on their red tongues.

  “Raptors,” said D’Mara, “today we return! We rise! And we conquer!”

  The battle roars that rose then shook the very mountain. The human servants cowered, covering their ears. D’Mara looked to her right and left, where Edward was seated on Decimus and Mirra was on Trixtan. Tamra was behind them, on a sinewy Yellow named Kardessa, having refused to be left behind. Only Kaan remained, sour-faced and resentful on the loggia. D’Mara had told him he would be in charge of the fortress while they were gone, in an effort to appease him, but the truth was that none of the First Flight would deign to carry him, and Valkea herself had insisted he stay. The Red was not very fond of the youngest Lennix. But no matter. Today was too important for D’Mara to concern herself with the various grievances of her spoiled children.

  Today was for blood and glory.

  Today was for war.

  “Flight Silver,” she called out, “to me!”

  They erupted into the sky in a storm of wings, claws, and dragonfire.

  Two days after they left Scotland, Sirin, Allie, and Bellacrux were nearly to their destination. They’d stopped to rest twice, once on the southern tip of Greenland, then in a forest in Nova Scotia. The next stop would be New York City … the final resting place of the Skyspinner.

  Bellacrux followed endless coastline, her shadow flickering over sandy beaches and rocky shoals. It was a tense, silent journey. Sirin’s stomach felt like a buzzing hive of anxiety-ridden bees. She couldn’t stop worrying about Joss. Even if he managed to escape the fortress, how would he find them again? Joss wouldn’t even know where to start looking.

  Allie turned around, swinging her leg over so she was sitting backward, facing Sirin.

  “The Heart could be anywhere in this city. Any ideas where to start?”

  Sirin chewed her lip. “Thorval did tell me more about the Skyspinner, after you … left. After she fell into the sea, she washed up on the shore of an island. This island.”

  She pointed to Manhattan on the map.

  “It’s a city now, but it used to be a swamp. Over time, Thorval said, the Skyspinner would have sunk deeper and deeper in the ground until she seemed to disappear completely.”

  “So … her Heart must be buried under this city?”

  Sirin grimaced. “This is not going to be easy, Allie.”

  “No kidding,” Allie muttered. She turned around again.

  “Does Bellacrux have any ideas?” Sirin asked. “She is the dragon here, and it’s a dragon’s bones we’re looking for.”

  Allie was silent a moment, apparently conferring with her Lock. Then she said, “Bell says we must move quickly. The Raptors will be out in full force soon, and it will be a race to determine the future of all dragonkind.”

  Sirin sighed. That wasn’t the sort of helpful insight she’d been hoping for.

  Minutes later, just as Sirin had predicted, Long Island rolled beneath them, looking like an arm stretching out in warning. The sky was darkening, and ahead, Sirin saw the sparkle of lights.

  “Look!” Sirin said, pointing. “That must be it!”

  They’d passed over many towns and cities on their journey, but now, as the day began to turn to twilight, Sirin laid eyes on the brightest, most dazzling, most terrifyingly enormous city she’d seen yet. It wasn’t as large as London, but it was packed together more tightly, buildings all smashed up against one another and stretching to the clouds. Bridges stretched over wide rivers, where boats churned up the water, some as small as cars, others as big as Sirin’s old school.

  “We’d better keep out of sight,” said Sirin. “Or they’ll send fighter jets or missiles or who knows what else to try and shoot us down.”

  “I don’t know what those are,” Allie said. “But if you say so.”

  Bellacrux wheeled away from the city and stayed low, nearly skimming the surface of the water, where any wandering eyes wouldn’t be able to pick her out against the dark waves.

  Sirin stared at the distant city and felt as if she were shrinking, till she was as small as an ant. It was so much bigger than she’d anticipated. Their task, which had been monstrously difficult, now looked to be altogether impossible.

  They glided past a small island, atop which Sirin spied the Statue of Liberty. The sight made her skin prickle; there was something noble and defiant about the great green lady, with her torch held high and her unblinking eyes watching the two girls and the dragon skim past. It was as if she knew the importance of their mission and was solemnly wishing them luck.

  “At least we beat the Raptors here,” said Sirin.

  At that moment, a mighty roar shook the sky.

  Sirin looked up as, one by one, dragons began to appear. They seemed to pop out of nowhere—but Sirin, of course, knew exactly where they’d come from. And from her vantage below, she could easily make out the three-pronged tattoos on their bellies. Even if she hadn’t seen them, there would have been no mistaking the fiery re
d scales of Valkea, the dragon who’d attacked them at the Blue islands and again at Loch Ness. She terrified Sirin more than all the others put together.

  “Bellacrux!” Allie screamed.

  The Green dipped lower, hiding them between the high, rolling waves. But it was poor cover and couldn’t protect them for long.

  “I jinxed us,” Sirin whispered hoarsely. “I jinxed us.”

  “I wish you had,” said Allie. “We could use someone with magic powers right about now.”

  Just then, they were spotted.

  The smallest of the Raptors—who was still larger than most dragons ever grew—let out a screech of warning to its companions. They all turned as one, like a flock of deadly, fire-breathing sparrows.

  And their eyes all fixed on Bellacrux and her riders below.

  Sirin’s stomach dropped. They were wildly outnumbered, with no storm to disappear into this time. No Lysander to open a magic doorway to refuge.

  They were helpless.

  Bellacrux roared a roar to flatten the very waves, then shot upward in a powerful vertical climb that nearly unseated Allie and Sirin both. The girls held on desperately, Allie to Bellacrux’s crest, Sirin to Allie’s waist.

  When they were level with the flight of Raptors, Bellacrux hovered on powerful wingbeats. The Raptors filled the sky all around, snarling and speeding by so close they nearly clipped Bellacrux’s wings. Sirin saw the twins Mirra and Tamra among them, and a man who must have been their father. D’Mara was unmistakable—Sirin would never forget the feeling of that awful woman’s blade against her throat.

  Most horrifyingly of all, on each Raptor’s brow gleamed a Silver scale.

  Poor Lysander. Now Sirin knew her friend and his Lock must have been captured. Her stomach twisted, and her face burned with anger. What of Sammi? she wondered. She still couldn’t feel her own Lock, just the twinge of pain in her chest where her bond with her was still stretched too tight.

  After another few moments of the Raptors’ taunting growls and dangerously close flybys, Valkea swooped in and circled them, breathing out a lazy stream of fire that left them wreathed in smoke. Sirin coughed and tried to wave it away.