Rise of the Shadow Dragons Read online

Page 19


  Joe felt cold suddenly. With Noah’s mocking and Ravenna glaring murderously at him, it was like the hatch­ing ceremony all over again, but lethal this time. He’d made another terrible mistake, and once more everyone would witness it. He’d just brought all these people up here to die. He squinted out into the darkness and his heart stumbled.

  Noah and Lanys stood there, side by side, with Ravenna towering over them. Behind them, dozens more black-clad figures poured over the grass. It was the Brotherhood, speed­ing towards the barracks, towards Joe and his friends. This was one battle that was about to end.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Joe said quietly. He’d failed his dragon. He’d failed his father. Who would avenge him now?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  They’d been so close. Joe was filled with helpless fury, pinned to the spot under the gaze of the huge black dragon, Ravenna, and Lanys, with Noah and his dragon impatient for their revenge.

  Joe could feel Ren hiding directly behind him, and he wished she would run to safety.

  The worst thing was that he understood Noah, finally. That look on his face? Oh, that was familiar, all right. Noah wanted vengeance for his father’s death. He might be blam­ing the wrong people, but Joe understood the impulse all too well. Wasn’t he here for exactly the same reason – to stop Asa and the Brotherhood because they’d killed Nestan? He had no right to judge Noah for it, even as he prepared to die.

  ‘Joe, we have to do something,’ Winter whispered next to him. ‘The Brotherhood are coming!’

  The burly guard at the next bunkhouse dragged Amina and Conor forwards by their arms, and threw them down in front of Lanys. ‘These two thought they were a match for me. Huh – funny.’ He didn’t sound amused. He stood there rubbing his head where they must have hit him.

  Ariel and Maric limped out of the shadows. Something had happened to Ariel’s left wing, and it hung down awkwardly.

  Where were Tiago and Flavia? Joe prayed they’d had more success.

  ‘Stop them, please,’ Joe begged Lanys and Noah, watch­ing the men of the Brotherhood coming closer, blades drawn. ‘Don’t hurt my friends – they’re just children, ordinary children, no threat to you.’

  ‘Oh, no, no, no. All the ordinary children are at home in their beds,’ Lanys said. ‘Obeying the curfew. These are rebels, led by Jowan Thornsen: a dangerous and unstable young man. You attacked our guards, not the other way round.’

  ‘Yeah. We’re only defending ourselves,’ Noah added. He copied his cousin, eyeing her to see he was getting it right. ‘And when we kill you, that’s what we’ll tell everyone. You attacked us. Everyone saw you on Hatching Day. They know what you’re like!’

  ‘I’m not like that! Not any more,’ Joe said. But he knew Noah was right – he had a reputation now, and no one would doubt Noah’s word when he was dead. No one would know that he’d changed. No one would know that he’d tried so hard to save the city from the Brotherhood. He battled against despair.

  Noah took a step closer to him, but Joe held his ground, still praying that Tiago and Flavia might free some of the duke’s soldiers in time to fight back.

  Ren leaped out now, hissing angrily at Noah and Della. She looked so fragile and small, but she did her best to protect him.

  Noah burst out laughing. ‘Is she yours? Ha, what a runt! What’s wrong with her?’

  Joe watched Ren spread her wings defensively and nearly choked on the injustice of it – she’d never even learned to fly.

  ‘Lanys, over to you,’ Noah was saying, with puffed-up pride. ‘This is my cousin Lanys, who had to put up with your Milla always grabbing the best for herself. Lanys? Can Ravenna flame them all at once?’

  Joe started shaking then, remembering Hatching Day and the pain of his burns. Fear mixed with fury, but he could only stand there, powerless, as the black dragon loomed over them.

  ‘But she’s Maric’s mother!’ Amina wailed, bending protectively over her lilac-coloured dragon. Tears glinted silver on her cheeks.

  ‘She won’t hurt her own hatchlings,’ Conor said bravely, but there was a wobble in his voice.

  ‘She will if I command it,’ Lanys insisted. ‘They left her nest months ago.’

  But Joe caught a flicker of doubt. ‘Don’t!’ The Brotherhood had got to Noah, and force-fed his cruelty, but he spotted a chance with Lanys. ‘Please,’ he begged her now. ‘Let the dragons live! Don’t ask Ravenna to kill her own brood.’

  Did the black dragon have any protective instinct left now her hatchlings had grown?

  Lanys hesitated.

  That was when the world exploded in a bloom of orange flame.

  Joe went flying forwards, one hand protecting his face, the other reaching for his dragon. ‘REN! Are you all right?!’

  For a moment, there was only silence. Then horrible screams filled the air, along with fire and smoke.

  ‘Ren!’

  Mrrrt. She squirmed close, nudging at Joe with her long nose.

  Joe felt the warm quiver of her body, safe and alive. He patted her up and down, but found no blood. He knelt, his head ringing from the blast, and then stood, trying to see what was happening in the swirling smoke, darkness and confusion. ‘Winter? Amina? Conor?’

  ‘Here,’ Winter coughed. ‘Fidell’s all right.’

  All noise was oddly muffled, as if coming from a great distance away.

  ‘What was that?’ Amina choked out.

  ‘Firepowder: must’ve been!’ That was Conor.

  The smoke cleared, showing him Noah and Lanys crouching low, but they weren’t looking at him. They gazed, horrified, beyond him, and Joe couldn’t resist a quick glance over his shoulder.

  Three enormous dragons had landed on the roofs of the first two bunkhouses, spitting flame in massive jets at anyone who dared challenge them.

  In the livid orange light, he recognised Isak astride Belara; while the other two were riderless. It was Heral, Tarya’s red dragon, and Petra, Duke Vigo’s green one, come to reclaim their people. Simeon had found them! And there, in the air, were more dragons and their riders – all those whom Joe had freed from the dragonhall.

  The ruined armoury and several trees were burning, utterly consumed by fire. They must have used firepowder in that first wave of attack.

  He saw Ando, Rosa’s dragon, roaring loudly and scratch­ing at one of the bunkhouse roofs. He flew down and turned his fury on the building that contained his person.

  The tide was turning: the fight was theirs again.

  Ando used his enormous weight and plunged one of his forelegs right through the wooden planks of the bunkhouse. They splintered like kindling and the prisoners staggered out, finally, into the chaos of bright flame and cold moon­light and bloodshed.

  Now they were free, Duke Vigo’s soldiers picked up the fight, taking weapons from the fallen guards. There was a new surge as the furious soldiers, prisoners for three days, finally gave vent to their rage.

  And as Joe watched, he realised that Yannic’s tampering must have worked: the Brotherhood fought badly, slow to react, sometimes bending double in pain. Soon the ground was littered with their bodies.

  When Joe spun round again, Noah had vanished.

  Lanys was climbing back onto Ravenna. ‘Up!’ she told her dragon. ‘To the palace.’ The huge black dragon crouched, ready to launch.

  ‘Isak!’ Joe yelled, at the top of his voice, running towards his brother as Ravenna took flight. ‘Quick: it’s Lanys! She’s going to warn the Brotherhood in the palace!’

  Could he stop her? Lanys was Isak’s former student. Would she listen to him now and change sides?

  Isak and Belara reacted immediately. The huge dragon flapped her golden wings and sped after Ravenna in hot pursuit.

  ‘Lanys!’ Isak was shouting. ‘Stop! Turn back. Join us! Belara is your dragon’s mother. Don’t do this to them!’

  Joe saw the moment that Ravenna turned in mid-air. For a moment he thought Lanys was listening. And then Ravenna kindled and let out a
jet of flame.

  ‘Isak! Be careful!’ Joe cried uselessly from the ground.

  Isak flattened himself on Belara’s back, pushing his dragon into a low evasive dive, missing the fire. Then Belara recovered smoothly, flapping hard to catch Ravenna from below.

  Joe was shocked to see his gentle brother in battle. It reminded him of a hawk fighting a crow. The dragons’ wings tangled together, gold on black, black on gold, and dropped so fast it seemed they’d both crash into the earth, only pulling free at the last moment. They spat fire, in hot bursts. Now Ravenna banked hard, avoiding Belara’s flame, Lanys low against her neck.

  No one had ever seen this before. Dragons didn’t fight each other. Dragons were on the same side. Till now.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Ravenna attacked Belara with her talons, ripping into her chest.

  Joe saw a gush of blood spring from Belara’s ripped golden scales. ‘No!’ he cried. His brother Isak was in terri­ble danger.

  But while Ravenna was so close to Belara, the black dragon was also vulnerable.

  He saw Belara kindle, her chest blushing through the yellow-gold scales. She opened her mouth and a huge torrent of flame shot out, catching Ravenna full in the face.

  Joe heard the unforgettable sound of a dragon in agony. Ravenna spun out of control, her wings folded to protect Lanys as she tumbled from the night sky, turning over and over, finally crashing into a stand of tall trees.

  ‘Isak!’ Joe yelled, running towards the trees. He couldn’t see his brother, or his golden dragon. He was gripped by panic. He couldn’t lose anyone else, not now.

  Fear gave him wings, and he sped forwards, overtaking dozens of soldiers as the duke’s newly freed army took the battle to the palace. Petra and Heral were attacking its front doors, with a mass of soldiers surging behind them. In the dis­tance came a loud explosion, and the noise of shattering glass.

  In the chaos, Joe searched breathlessly, shouting for his brother.

  It was Ren who found them. The little purple dragon, almost invisible now in the darkness, went rustling into the undergrowth, and summoned Joe with an excited aark aaark aaark.

  Then Belara struggled up, sending Ren skittering ner­vously away from her bulk, and Joe made out the familiar tall figure of his brother.

  ‘Isak! Over here!’ he cupped his hands to yell. ‘Watch out for Ren. She’s with me!’ Then he ran towards him.

  Isak was limping, his face smudged with blood and ash, his eyeglasses askew, with a crack across one lens.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Joe hung back, full of fear suddenly.

  ‘Joe!’ His brother hugged him tightly, speaking into his neck. ‘Simeon told me you were alive.’

  ‘And Belara? I thought she was hurt.’ They both turned to look at the huge golden dragon. The gash on her chest was shallow, and most of the blood was drying stickily.

  ‘She will be fine – she managed to pull back at the last moment, or else we’d both be done for.’ Isak pounded Joe’s shoulder with relief, emotion making his voice crack. ‘You’re really alive! Oh, when the message came, I was so relieved. What did Dad say? He and Josi must—’

  ‘No!’ Joe gulped. ‘Y-you don’t know? Y-you didn’t hear …’ he stuttered and stopped. Time did something strange, slowing down to a crawl. The world spun around them, all black sky and orange flame, but right here, there was an awful stillness.

  Isak waited, studying his face in the dim light. ‘Tell me.’

  Joe couldn’t speak. It was too much. It was too big. Ren whined and wound herself round his waist, sensing his emotion.

  In the end, he didn’t have to say it. His silence did that. He shook his head, then scrubbed at his face with sleeve.

  ‘When?’ Isak was hoarse with tears.

  ‘Three days ago.’ Joe choked out the words in horrible little chunks. ‘As the Brotherhood took the city. We buried him. Josi and Matteo and me. I’m so sorry—’

  Isak stumbled, and Joe caught him as he cried out, ‘No! Dad, no, he can’t be—’ He covered his face with his hands and sobbed.

  Joe held his brother, feeling his heart break.

  After a while, Isak tried to speak. ‘I can’t do this … Not now … We must keep fighting.’

  Joe watched Isak’s struggle to tamp down his grief, putting his feelings somewhere deep and locking them away so he could carry on with this battle. His brother took a few breaths, swallowing it all down. ‘And my sister?’ His face turned hard, almost unrecognisable, lit by distant flame as the freed soldiers took their fight to the palace. ‘What have they done with Tarya? I thought, when I saw Heral …’ He couldn’t go on.

  ‘No, she’s in there. We think. With Vigo. And their daughter.’

  ‘Daughter?’

  Joe nodded, with a fleeting smile. ‘The Brotherhood were planning a trial, tomorrow. That’s why we acted tonight.’

  He saw Isak slump with relief. ‘That’s good. That means she’s alive. They must’ve worked out how to block her thoughts from Heral using a yew barrier. That’s the only reason he’s not smashed that palace to pieces already. If we can just work out where they’re keeping them …’

  Just then Belara growled a deep mrraaa.

  ‘And that’s where I come in,’ a new voice said. ‘Didn’t I tell you it would work?’ Yannic was strutting towards them with his thumbs in his pockets.

  Isak pushed Joe behind him and drew his short sword. ‘Hold! Stop there.’

  ‘It’s all right, Isak, he’s with us,’ Joe cried, pushing past to stand between them.

  ‘Oh, yes, I’d better ditch this.’ Yannic stripped off his black jacket and tucked it under one arm. ‘And don’t forget to tell your sister just how grateful you are. She can turn that gratitude into gold. Now, shall we go find her?’

  ‘Who is this?’ Isak spat and swore.

  ‘Yannic, Tarya’s spy.’ Joe hurried through an explanation.

  Another explosion made them all turn back to the palace. The fighting had lasted hours now – Joe had lost all track of time. Surely it was almost over? The Brotherhood couldn’t last long, outnumbered by the duke’s army and more than a dozen fully grown dragons.

  ‘I’m going to get my sister out of there.’ Isak put one hand on Belara’s back, and prepared to mount. ‘You, Yannic? If you’re really one of us, you can prove it now.’

  But before anyone could move, a voice screamed in the darkness, filled with desperate fear. ‘Joe Thornsen? Where are you?’

  Joe was filled with dread. That was Winter’s voice. ‘Winter? What’s happened, I thought the duke’s soldiers were free, that they’d … I thought …’ His words petered out.

  Winter stumbled out into view, her arms outstretched, like a sleepwalker. Her face was a mask of terror, lit by the flames. Fidell ran at her side, eyes wide, ears flat, tail tucked down low.

  Joe didn’t want to ask. He wanted to hide his face in Ren’s scaly back and pray to wake up, somewhere safe, somewhere else. He gulped, his mouth dry and sour with fear. He made himself ask, ‘What is it? What’s happened now?’

  ‘Look to the east. The warning beacons are lit on the mainland.’

  ‘Sartola?’ Isak swore. ‘But I left Luca there.’

  But Joe wasn’t listening. He went to meet Winter, taking her hands, sharing her fears. ‘It’s the volcano. It must be erupting,’ he guessed.

  ‘And that’s where Milla and Thom went.’

  She looked as horrified as Joe felt.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  ‘It’s the volcano, Mount Bara!’ Joe ran to the edge of the plateau that held the barracks. The burned and broken bunkhouses were deserted now, as the fight surged back to the palace. Joe saw a few black-clad bodies lying in the grass, but he didn’t slow, searching for more clues to confirm Winter’s news. Ren kept pace like his shadow, with Isak, Winter and the others following.

  From this vantage point at the top of the island, he could see right across the Straits of Sartola to the mainland. A
nd there in the distance, a line of beacons had been lit, little dots of fire stretching away to the east, like bones in a spine. Some­thing was terribly wrong. Something that affected them all.

  ‘The beacons!’ Isak shouted. ‘The beacons are lit.’ And more quietly, ‘I have never seen that. Not in my lifetime.’

  All those within earshot turned, shocked. This was a new threat, bigger than war. It wouldn’t care which side they were fighting on.

  ‘We should’ve guessed,’ Winter mumbled.

  Joe saw the same expression of horror on everyone’s faces, pale in the grey dawn. Conor and Amina staggered towards him, with their injured dragons. Yannic, Tiago and Flavia were behind them. Could it really be morning already? He swayed with fatigue.

  He stared further eastwards, full of dread. He saw some­thing new. There in the grey-blue sky, two dots grew larger all the time: dragons flying towards them at full speed. He strained his eyes, trying to pick out more detail. Who was it? They were hard to make out against the sky. Surely that was a crimson dragon. And a blue one? Yes!

  ‘Here!’ He waved with both arms. ‘Land here! Not the palace!’ He turned and shouted to his friends. ‘It’s Milla and Thom! They’re all right! They’re coming home.’

  Aark? Ren asked anxiously, nudging his side with her purple nose.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he told her. ‘I don’t know what it means.’ He shielded his eyes, watching their approach. His relief faded with every wingbeat.

  Coming into clear view, the dragons looked utterly spent. Their wings were streaked with blood and ash. Ruby landed first, with a heavy thump, her massive head crashing down and her eyes closing.