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Chapter Forty-Eight

T horne

“You must really like her, huh?” Briony’s best friend asks me as he scurries along by my side. We’re making our way through the forest, returning to the area where Dray first picked up her scent.

I glance at him and then back to scanning the undergrowth.

“I mean, I bet you wouldn’t normally go traipsing through woodland looking for a girl’s lost pet. It doesn’t really seem like your thing.”

“Do you always talk so much?” I mutter.

“Only because you don’t speak at all.” I stop, searching the undergrowth for something I recognize.

He stops beside me, hands on his hips and runs his gaze over me like I’m under inspection.

“You just sort of grunt and glare a lot. Not the best of conversationalists, but you’ve been spending a lot of time together so I’m betting she finds that hot. ”

“I’ve been helping her with the dragon.”

He sniggers, laughing even harder when I glare at him. “Is that what kids are calling it these days?”

“If it’s code for something else, do you want to explain what you’ve been doing with her?” I growl.

He takes a little step away from me. “I’ve said this numerous times, it’s actually becoming tedious, but she is not my type. And judging by the guys she is into, I am not hers either. Sheesh, you guys really need to rein in the possessive and obsessive vibes.”

“Maybe she likes that too.”

He smiles. “So he does have a sense of humor.”

I snort. “Come on. We’re wasting time.”

“Have you seen how fast that thing can move?” he says, a few minutes later. “He could be anywhere.”

“You’re right,” I say. I dip into the pocket of my jacket and pull out a small package wrapped in cloth.

“Stars above, what in the realm is that?” Fly says, pinching his nostrils with one hand and waving his other in front of his face.

“Blaze’s favorite snack.”

I unwind the cloth and hold the dead rat up by the end of its tail.

Fly gags into his hands, his nostrils still pinched. “Gross, that is actually so disgusting.”

I wave the rat around in front of me, walking deeper into the forest. We’re far from the academy now and soon we’ll hit the hilly landscape of the highlands, with all its boulders, crevices and caves. The kind of landscape I suspect might attract a dragon .

“Blaze!” I call. “I got a ratty for you.”

Fly cups his hands around his mouth and calls too. “Here, draggie waggie. Good draggie waggie.”

I roll my eyes and keep calling the dragon’s name, waving the rat about in all directions.

“This isn’t working,” Fly moans after a few more minutes.

“You don’t have much patience,” I observe.

“You sound just like my mother.”

“Give it time. He has to catch the scent of the rat.”

I keep calling while Fly leans against a tree and examines his nails.

After another fifteen minutes there’s still no sign of the dragon.

“We should have brought Dray,” I mutter. “He would have been able to follow the dragon’s scent.”

“Can’t you use your magic or something?”

“Funnily enough, I don’t know any spells for retrieving lost baby dragons.”

“But do you know any for retrieving, you know, lost items in general?”

I frown. I hadn’t thought of that. I run through the ones I know in my head. None are suitable for this specific task, but there is one I could try to adapt.

I let the shadows race from my fingers (Fly taking four decided steps away from me) and start whispering into the air.

It’s a struggle. The shadows are raging hot, bent on destruction, retribution and revenge. They want to crush the people that hurt her. Annihilate them completely. But that will have to wait. Right now, I have a dragon to find.

I keep whispering, my voice rising, as I battle to control my magic. It soars and sweeps around the trees, and I grit my teeth, battling to keep it under my will.

“Keep back!” I warn Fly as I grapple with it, the words flying from my mouth more quickly.

But it’s no good. The shadows are too angry. They tried to kill our mate and revenge is all they want.

With a grunt and a heave, I force them back inside my body. Then I stand there panting and sweating, my breath loud in the suddenly silent forest.

“Wow,” Fly says, “that was–”

“Hopeless,” I mutter. “Come on. Let’s keep searching.”

“Do you think she’s doing the right thing, not telling the teachers about this dragon?”

“No,” I say, “and yes.”

Fly bites at his nails. “But, I mean, someone tried to kill her last night. And this time, not just a push from a rope ladder or an electrocution by kite, they nearly beat her to death.” He glances up at me with concern in his eyes.

“And it sounds like if Professor Tudor hadn't found her, they would have succeeded.”

“What electrocution by kite?” I say, dropping my hand down by my side.

“Oh, it’s just, err, Iron figure of speech.”

“If she wore the collar, she’d be safe.”

“Yeah, I’ve told her that a million times, but she’s really damn stubborn. Maybe this will change her mind.”

We walk for a few minutes, the top of the first of the Highland hills visible over the tree-line.

“If the officialdom finds out she’s been hiding a dragon, she’ll be in serious trouble – the kind even Beaufort won’t be able to help her escape,” I say.

Fly nods, and bites at his nail again. “But if she hands the dragon in, there’ll be all sorts of questions about where she found the stone, how and why.

I can’t help feeling that might put her in even more danger. ”

“You sound like her,” he observes. “Are her weird conspiracy theories rubbing off on you?”

“You mean her sister?” He nods. “I think it’s strange.”

“Hmmm,” he says, then lets out a huff of frustration. “We’ve walked miles. I’m starting to get a blister.”

“We need to find him,” I say. I can’t imagine returning to Briony with the news that we’ve failed.

“Yeah, I know.” He peers at me and the dead rat and then towards the hills, then places a forefinger and a middle finger from each hand in his mouth and blows really hard. A high-pitched whistle sounds through the trees.

At first nothing happens, and I think, like every other attempt to find this dragon, it’s going to come to nothing.

Then I hear a distant sound, like the rustle of branches.

“Hear that?” I ask.

“Uh huh,” Fly says, standing on his tip toes and scanning the canopy.

The next thing we know a dragon the size of a dog comes swooping out of the trees and snatches the dead rat right from my grasp. He takes off into the canopy immediately afterwards and zooms away out of sight.

“Was that him?” I ask.

“Looked like it. And, do we truly think there could be other dragons out here?”

It’s a good point, but I still say, moodily, “He’s grown a lot.”

“Well, at least we know he’s alive,” Fly says.

“Yes, but how are we going to convince him to come with us?”

“Got anymore rats in your pockets?”

“No. ”

“Then beats me.”

I consider our options. “We know he’s safe,” I muse, “and keeping well hidden. I think we leave him until Briony’s well enough to come fetch him.”

“How long do you think that will be?” Fly says.

“I don’t know,” I say, thinking of her pale face and the whirring machines. “They nearly killed her.”