The Lost Lands Page 9

“Shut up, Mirra,” she said. “You don’t know anything about it. This is all I need. And now I know how to use it.”

  Then she smiled, and if she’d had a mirror handy, she would have seen how in that moment, she’d never looked more like her mother.

  “Enjoy your freedom while you can, cowards!” she called to the spot where the others had disappeared. “Oh yes. We’ll see you very soon.”

  Joss hung grimly to Lysander as the Silver hurtled through a tunnel of light. Lightning prickled all around, and Sirin’s arms around his waist were tight as a shackle. Sammi was crushed between them, and the little Green’s claws dug painfully into Joss’s back. His whole body hummed, the way it had during the storm over the Blue islands. It felt as though he’d swallowed a thunderbolt.

  Crossing portals was not something he thought he would ever get used to, and he was very glad when Lysander finally shot through into a clear evening sky.

  The Silver’s wings spread and caught the air like sails. Bellacrux, who had been flying close behind, her nose touching Lysander’s tail tip, swooped low, flying beneath them. Joss leaned over and gave Allie a thumbs-up, which she returned. Everyone had passed through safe and sound.

  “Joss!” Allie called. “Did you hear her? Did you hear what she said?”

  Joss swallowed. “About another way to reach the Lost Lands? She was lying, Allie. That’s impossible. Only a Silver can open portals, and Lysander’s the only Silver alive.”

  “She seemed pretty sure to me!” Allie replied.

  “Let’s just stop and catch our breaths,” Joss said. “We were almost crushed to death in that place.” He shuddered; when he closed his eyes, he could still see the stone dragons scurrying in the darkness, hissing. He, Sirin, Allie, and the dragons were coated in fine gray dust from the collapsing library, and judging by the way they were all coughing, they’d breathed in just as much.

  “Do you know where we are?” Joss asked Sirin.

  She released Sammi, who wriggled free and lurched into the air, falling a moment before finding her wings. She wobbled alongside them, looking ill from the crossing.

  Sirin spotted a large road sign and squinted, barely making out the letters. “Oxford, I think.”

  She pointed to a large cluster of buildings to their right. It was not as large a city as the one they’d found Sirin in—Lon-Don, he remembered—but it was still bigger than any city in the Dragonlands. Directly below them, the ground was a great green quilt, broken up by lines of trees and shrubs. In the dimming light of day, the world seemed tinted purple.

  Joss.

  Lysander’s thought was so weak that Joss nearly didn’t hear him at all. Lysander?

  I need to rest, Joss. And eat.

  The Silver opened his mind a little more, and Joss reeled at the pain and exhaustion emanating from his dragon. His wound, which had been healing, had been reopened in the battle with the stone librarians. And opening the portal while wounded had drained his energy.

  “Let’s find somewhere quiet to land,” Joss said to Sirin.

  She nodded and, a few minutes later, pointed to a strip of wooded land by a river. “There. Under those trees.”

  Lysander needed no convincing. He landed roughly in the brush, while Bellacrux lowered herself more gently beside him. They were in a small wetland, enclosed by trees and scrub, but Joss had seen from the air that it was completely surrounded by houses and buildings.

  Allie turned a full circle, staring around them. “Everything’s so … green and fresh. No ashes or smoke or bones.”

  “Feel that?” said Joss, spreading his arms wide.

  “What?”

  “No Raptors.” He grinned. “That, my dear sister, is what safe feels like.”

  Allie shook her head. “Not for long, if Tamra was telling the truth. She must have found something in the library. But what?”

  “I told you,” Joss said. “She was mad we got away, so she was just telling lies to try to scare us.”

  Allie only shook her head, unconvinced. She looked up at the clouds suspiciously, which annoyed Joss. They were supposed to be safe here. He wanted to go for a day where he didn’t have to keep watching the sky in dread and terror. And despite his words, he was worried Tamra had been telling the truth. He just didn’t want to admit it, not even to himself.

  “Raptors or no Raptors, we’re still not totally safe,” Sirin reminded them. “If someone here found the dragons, they’d be taken away. Locked up. Experimented on.”

  Joss and Allie stared at her, horrified.

  “We just have to keep a low profile,” said Sirin. “Don’t mention dragons around other people. Don’t speak at all, if you can help it. You’re in my world now, so let me do the talking. The minute an adult gets suspicious of us, they’ll phone the police, and it’s all over from there—for us, the dragons, and everyone back in your world that you’re trying to save. Got it?”

  It was a sobering reminder of why they were here, and what they stood to lose. Would they ever be truly safe? Would they ever find a world where they could just exist?

  “We’re not idiots,” said Allie resentfully. “You don’t have to tell us what to do.”

  “This is Sirin’s world,” Joss pointed out. “We should probably listen to her.”

  “Let’s find somewhere to eat,” said Sirin. “It’ll make us all feel better.”

  “Eat!” Allie stared at her. “We don’t have time for that! This isn’t a vacation! We should talk about what I saw in the library scroll and what we should do next. If Tamra was telling the truth—and we have to consider she was—then we’re not safe here. Nobody is safe here. We have to act as if Raptors could drop out of the sky at any moment. Which means we need to move faster than ever and find the Heart before the Lennixes launch whatever plan they’re cooking up to reach this world.”

  Joss sighed. All he really wanted just then was a nap and a chance to wash off the dust that was itching inside his clothes. But he knew Allie was right. They’d never really get a chance to rest until this was all over and the threat of the Raptors was dealt with for good. Especially if they did have another way to reach the Lost Lands. Maybe Tamra had been lying, but Allie was right—they had to act as if she weren’t. Everyone was depending on them, in the Dragonlands and in this world too.

  “That’s all true, Allie,” said Sirin. “But we’re not the only ones who are hungry. The dragons need food too.”

  Allie let out a long breath, then nodded, her shoulders slumping. “I guess we can take a few hours to plan what happens next. But no more than that.”

  “Right.” Sirin squared her shoulders. “Into town, then. Sorry, Sammi. You’ll have to stay here and mind Bellacrux and Lysander. Promise?”

  Joss wasn’t sure he liked the idea of leaving Lysander. They had only a little athelantis left, and he carefully applied some to his Lock’s cuts, trying not to gag at the awful smell. He wrapped the last pieces of the pulped plant in its oilskin wrapper and put it in his pocket.

  Go, Joss, sent Lysander. I will be here when you return.

  I’m a little scared of this place, Joss admitted. All those people and buildings. It’s so strange here.

  Lysander pressed the fine arch of his brow against Joss’s chest. If you can survive Fortress Lennix, you can survive anything.

  Joss drew a deep breath. “All right, Sirin. Lead the way.”

  Lysander, if you smell Raptor, you let me know right away.

  Go, Joss. I will keep watch on the skies.

  They followed a dirt path through overhanging trees. All around, birds chirped and fluttered. It didn’t seem so strange a place then—not unlike the hills around the Zolls’, where Joss had tended sheep.

  But then they stepped out onto a hard stone road. With the woods behind them, they now faced a row of brownstone buildings, like little castles, and a bridge crossing a small river.

  “Stay on the sidewalk!” warned Sirin, putting out a hand to keep Allie from crossing to the other side. “
There’s a car!”

  Joss sucked in his breath and flattened himself against the railing of the bridge as the thing called a car zoomed by. It made a loud, snarling sound. He had liked hearing Sirin’s stories about cars; he thought he liked the real thing much less. To his surprise, Allie—ever brave Allie—grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight, looking as spooked as he felt. He squeezed her hand and tried to put on a brave smile for her.

  Everything was very neat and fancy; little signs announced the names of the roads: Frenchay and Bainton and Hayfield, though he didn’t see any signs of hay or fields anywhere. In the windows of the houses, lights were being lit, and he saw silhouettes of people moving about inside them. Across the road, an old man strolling along gave them a curious look. Joss wondered what they must look like, three kids covered in stone dust and dirt and sweat, all evidence of their recent adventures.

  “Those houses …” Allie murmured. “So much wood on them. They’d burn in a snap if a Raptor came through.”

  Sirin grimaced.

  “No Raptors here,” Joss reminded his sister.

  “Yet,” she said.

  “Even if they come,” Joss said fiercely, “we’ll find the Heart and stop them. And one day, Allie, I promise, we’ll live in a house just like these ones.”

  To his surprise, Allie giggled. “Yes, and I can get Bellacrux one of those.” She pointed at a miniature house beside one of the big ones; a glum-looking dog was sitting inside it, blinking at them.

  Joss laughed, imagining Bellacrux squeezed into that tiny house, and beside him, Sirin started chuckling too. It didn’t totally untangle the knot of dread and nerves in his belly, but it helped a bit.

  They found a kid standing in front of one of the brown houses, playing with a black-and-white ball. He was a little younger than Joss, with hair as orange as a torch’s flame, and was kicking the ball skillfully, never letting it touch the ground even though he wasn’t using his hands. When he saw them, he caught the ball and stared.

  “What’re you guys supposed to be?” he asked, lifting an orange eyebrow. “Some kind of cosplay club?”

  “Yep,” said Sirin. “Cosplayers. That’s us. Here for the … um, convention. Is there somewhere to eat around here?”

  “There’s a fish and chips place that way.” The boy pointed. “Nerds.”

  “Hey, if you see any funny, fire-breathing lizard shapes in the sky,” said Joss, “just a word of advice: hide, don’t run. They like it when you run.”

  “Uh …” The boy backed away slowly, staring at Joss like he’d grown a third eye. “What convention are you here for, exactly?”

  Groaning, Allie grabbed Joss’s arm and hauled him away.

  “What?” he whispered in protest. “It’s not like I said the word dragons!”

  Soon they found themselves following a larger, busier road. Joss slowly began to relax and not cringe so much when cars rumbled by. They passed buildings much larger and grander than the houses. These places were like fortresses. Many of them, according to Sirin, were schools. There were schools for toddlers and schools for kids a little younger than they were, and ones for their age and ones for kids a little older. There were even schools for grown-ups.

  “Do you do anything here except go to school?” he asked, astounded. “Seems as soon as you finish one, you’re packing off to another.”

  Sirin sighed. “Exactly. It never ends. Unless, I suppose, you get carried off by a dragon.”

  She looked glum, but Joss thought nothing would be more fun than going to school with other kids. He’d heard of schools before, but most in the Dragonlands had been burned down or raided.

  After walking nearly twenty more minutes, Sirin led them up to a glassy building that smelled delicious. It had pictures on the window of sandwiches, soup, and fish. A little bell rang when they opened the door.

  “We don’t have money,” said Allie. “Are we going to steal the food? What if we get caught? I don’t think this is a good—”

  “Relax.” Sirin pulled a card from her pocket. “My mum made sure I would have a little bit of spending money after she …”

  A blur of sadness, anger, and panic passed over Sirin’s face, as it always did when she spoke of her mother. Joss had quickly learned not to ask about her mum. Sirin seemed determined not to talk about her. He remembered feeling similarly after his parents had been killed.

  Inside the restaurant, as Sirin called it, they sat at a table with a smooth, shiny red top. Pictures on the walls showed scenes of castles and sheep, which were probably meant to be nice, but they reminded Joss way too much of Compound Zoll.

  A young man with bright orange hair—he must have been related to the boy they’d passed earlier—asked them what they wanted. Joss and Allie stared like owls, until finally Sirin said, “Fish and chips for three, please, and Cokes.”

  In minutes, food arrived in baskets lined with paper. Joss didn’t even mind that it was too hot; he began stuffing it into his mouth. He was a little more wary of the black, sparkling liquid called Coke—it looked like it might be poison. But when he tried it, it tasted sweet and slightly spicy and filled his mouth with bubbles. He laughed so hard it shot out his nose. Sirin grinned and handed him a paper napkin.

  “Dingbat,” scolded Allie. She eyed her food suspiciously, then took a tentative bite of the chips.

  Everything was delicious. The most delicious food, in fact, that Joss had ever tasted.

  Yes, it certainly seems you’re enjoying yourself.

  Joss nearly choked on his fried fish when Lysander’s wry words popped into his head. He swallowed guiltily.

  I’ll bring you the biggest helping ever! I promise.

  You better, or I might have to eat Sammi. The little pest won’t stop biting my tail!

  “Right,” said Allie, slamming down her cup. “Time to talk.”

  “Fine.” He sighed. “What did you find in the scroll?”

  “I saw her,” said Allie. “I saw the Skyspinner. She was … enormous. Like a flying mountain. But there were Raptors everywhere too, attacking her. I saw her banish them, and then she fell into the sea.”

  “Did you see anything that might tell you where she fell?” asked Sirin.

  “There was a coastline, with cliffs and trees. It was … cold, I think.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s all I saw! It was a little chaotic, all right? Dragons battling everywhere, and Tamra Lennix of all people hanging on to me, apparently figuring out some other way to—Joss, are you even listening to what I’m saying?”

  “Huh?” He blinked; he’d been staring at a family that had come into the restaurant. They looked so happy, two parents and three little kids. Should he warn them that Raptors might appear in the sky any moment and burn down this nice fish and chips place and everyone in it if they weren’t prepared to fight for their lives?

  “Can you draw the coastline?” asked Sirin. “Maybe we could match it up to the real place.”

  “I could try,” said Allie, looking doubtful.

  Sirin chased down the orange-haired man and got a pen off him, which she gave to Allie. Scrunching her nose and nibbling her lips, Allie began to draw on one of the paper napkins. Joss drained his Coke and let the bubbles tingle on his tongue before swallowing.

  When Allie finished, she showed them what looked to Joss like senseless scribbles.

  “Like I said,” she reminded them, “it was chaotic.”

  Sirin frowned and took the napkin. “This doesn’t look familiar, but then, I was never much good at geography. That’s all right. We’ll go to a library tomorrow and look it up on a computer.”

  “A library?” echoed Joss, with alarm.

  “Don’t worry,” said Sirin. “There’s no library in this world that ever tried to murder anyone. At least, not that I know of.”

  “We still need to get dinner for the dragons,” Joss reminded her.

  “Right. Waiter!”

  The orange-haired man came back, eyebr
ows lifted. “Miss?”

  “We’ll take twenty orders of fish and chips to take away, please.” Sirin handed the astonished man her money card, thought a moment, then added, “Actually, make it forty.”

  Mirra Lennix was quiet nearly the whole way back to Fortress Lennix. She thought her sister might have forgotten she was even there. Valkea flew high and fast, through turbulent mountain air that made Mirra’s stomach queasy. But she said nothing. She already knew neither the dragon nor her twin would listen to her.

  She kept reliving the moment in the library when one of the stone dragons had nearly dragged her off Valkea. She’d almost died, and Tamra hadn’t done anything to help her. Would her twin have even noticed if Mirra had fallen off? Would she have cared?

  Probably not. She’d probably be glad to have their room all to herself, finally.

  Mirra’s thoughts churned like a cauldron of bitter poison, sickening her even more than Valkea’s rough flying.

  She tried to blame the sheep boy and the Lost Lands girl. Their words had crawled into her ears and begun rearranging her brain until she wasn’t sure of anything anymore. But she found her anger kept turning to other targets—to her ma, to Tamra, to herself.

  She was desperately unhappy.

  When Fortress Lennix finally came into view, clinging to its mountain like an oyster on a rock, Mirra had never been more confused to see her home. She wished, suddenly, that Declan was there waiting for them. She had a feeling he would be the only person in the world who might help her understand the tangle of thoughts in her head.

  Valkea angled sharply for the landing yard, and Mirra finally spoke up, murmuring in her twin’s ear as she held tightly to her middle.

  “Tamra, are we … bad guys?”

  Her sister snorted. “Blood and bones, Mirra. You know what ma says. There’s no such things as good guys and bad guys. Only—”

  “I know, I know. There’s only Raptors and sheep.” Mirra sighed.

  “Sometimes I wonder how we’re even related. You really are stupid.”

  There’s a difference between quiet and stupid, Mirra thought.

  With a roar to announce their arrival, Valkea tilted her wings to slow her descent, then her talons threw sparks as they dragged along the floor of the landing yard. Mirra waited until just before the dragon stopped completely to jump down.