Rise of the Dragons Page 12

  Angry at being used as a scapegoat by D’Mara, Edward thumped the table with his fist. “Enough,” he snapped.

  D’Mara glared at him. “Edward, this is for the good of the Clan,” she hissed.

  “I realize that.” Edward spoke through clenched teeth. “It’s your methods I’m objecting to.”

  Joss watched the two Lennix chiefs with bemusement. They seemed to be fighting over him. It made no sense at all.

  Edward decided to take over before D’Mara bad-mouthed him anymore. He looked Joss in the eye and said, “Joshua, welcome to clan Lennix.”

  Joss stared uncomprehendingly. What did they mean, welcome to clan Lennix? Were they playing games with him? Was this some kind of test too?

  D’Mara saw they were getting nowhere, and decided to try a less formal approach. “Joshua dear, come and sit with us,” she said, patting the soft red velvet seat of the empty chair. Feeling as if he were in a dream, Joss sat down uneasily between the two Lennixes. He felt like a vole caught between two competing eagles. Unsure which beak to look at, he gazed at the table in front of him, where a scroll tied in red ribbon lay beside the candle, pen and ink, and a stick of black sealing wax.

  “Well, Joshua,” D’Mara said, reaching for the scroll. “This is a special day for us all. Family is so important, don’t you agree?”

  Joss tried to ignore the empty space inside him that always seemed to open up when anyone mentioned family. He glanced up at D’Mara and she gave him a smile that almost reached her eyes. Joss remembered how he and D’Mara had sat in the sheepfold and talked about dragons and how she had listened and sympathized with all his fears about the Zolls. Maybe, he thought, this was what she had been planning all the time. Maybe Allie was wrong after all. Maybe the netting and being a prisoner really was, as D’Mara had said, a test—which he had passed. Joss tried his very best to convince himself that the Lennixes were more misunderstood than murderous and felt himself very nearly succeeding.

  D’Mara untied the red ribbon and flattened out the scroll in front of him. Joss stared at it, uncomprehending.

  “You can read?” Edward asked.

  Joss nodded. He could read well enough, but the Lennix script was crisscrossed with curlicues and squiggles and was so cramped and narrow that the only words he could make out were his own name.

  D’Mara handed him the pen and Edward placed a well-manicured index finger on an empty line at the foot of the document. “Sign there, Joshua. And then it will be done.”

  At last Joshua found his voice. “What will be done?”

  “The adoption, of course,” D’Mara said.

  “Adoption?” Joss asked.

  “Indeed. You will become our son.”

  Joss stared at the Lennixes in astonishment.

  “That’s right,” D’Mara said. “From now on your name will be Joshua Lennix. You will be part of our family and treated no differently from our own children. Indeed, we already regard you as fondly as we do our own sons, do we not, Edward?”

  Edward Lennix nodded. That was easy enough—he was not particularly fond of either of his boys.

  A strange feeling began to creep through Joss. He had forgotten how it felt to be thought of as special—and to feel safe too. And there in the Lennixes’ hall, for the first time in two long, frightening years, Joss felt both these things. He was with two powerful people who would protect him and even seemed to value him. They weren’t his parents—no one could replace his parents—but they were something. Very deliberately, Joss pushed aside all the terrible things he had seen and heard in Fortress Lennix, and when the image of the blood on the pale girl’s bandage stubbornly refused to go, Joss gritted his teeth and told himself that it was probably not nearly as bad as it seemed. And besides, once he was part of the Lennix family, he could help to make it all better. For everyone. Couldn’t he?

  But there was one thing that Joss could not talk himself out of caring about. “My sister,” he said. “Will you adopt my sister too?”

  A microsecond’s glance passed between Edward and D’Mara. At times like this they understood each other perfectly. D’Mara chose her words carefully. “Don’t worry about your sister, Joshua,” she said. “We will look after her too.”

  Edward nodded his agreement.

  “And Lysander?”

  “Lysander?” Edward asked suspiciously. “Who’s he?”

  But D’Mara had guessed. “Is Lysander the Silver’s name, Joss?”

  “Yes,” Joss admitted, feeling cross with himself for letting Lysander’s name slip out. But, he told himself, I’m one of them now. So it’s fine. It’s all fine.

  “So I take it you are already Locked with Lysander?” D’Mara asked.

  Joss nodded.

  “Well done, Joshua. We are proud of you,” D’Mara told him. Joss smiled. It felt good to make someone feel proud of him. “To be Locked with a Silver is a great honor,” D’Mara added. “A great honor indeed.”

  “Almost as much of an honor as being a Lennix,” Edward muttered.

  “Thank you, Edward,” D’Mara said, throwing him a warning look. She turned her attention to Joss. “Now, Joshua, I expect you will wish to live with Lysander in his chamber while he becomes accustomed to the Roost? We Lennixes like to live with our Locks in the early stages.”

  Any niggling doubts now vanished. “Live in Lysander’s chamber?” Joss asked, incredulous. “Just me and him? Oh, yes, please. I would love to.” He reached for the pen, not noticing the looks of triumph the two Lennix chiefs exchanged. He was too busy trying to get the right amount of ink to stay on the delicate pen nib. Joss had not used a pen for two long years, and his hands, more accustomed to grabbing sheep, felt clumsy.

  Slowly, carefully, Joss began to sign his name at the foot of the scroll. When he reached the a at the end of Joshua, D’Mara leaned forward and said, “Don’t forget to sign with your new name.” Joss nodded, and with a sense of unreality, he wrote: Lennix. He looked at his new signature, a little shaky and shining with wet ink, and he knew he had done something that would change his life forever.

  It had been a long, hard day in Bone Grind. The nursery had had a flurry of hatchings, and Allie and Carli were now part of a team of six, all working to produce enough bone ash to line the nests and make bonemeal to mix in the hatchlings’ feed. But now at last, as the light in the window slits faded and the shadows fell over the bone pit, Allie, Carli, and their four coworkers had very nearly finished. Hands shaking with exhaustion, Allie tamped down the last of the bonemeal into the final sack and Carli tied the top with twine. They shoveled out the ashes of the final batch of burned bones and heaved them into the ash cart. Then they rang the bell for the nursery attendant to fetch the sacks and cart.

  The boy who came was Joss’s replacement, and Allie found the courage to ask him if he knew what had happened to Joss. The boy smirked. “Some kids have all the luck,” he said. “He got adopted.”

  “Adopted?” Allie stared at the boy, bewildered. What could the boy possibly mean?

  “Yeah. He’s a Lennix now.”

  “What do you mean, he’s a Lennix?” Allie demanded angrily. “Of course he’s not a Lennix. How could he be?”

  The boy shrugged. “Like I said. He got adopted by them. And now we’re going to have to bow and call him sir and all that stuff. But I’m telling you, he’d better not come down here without a guard. We don’t like turncoats.”

  “Joss isn’t a turncoat,” Allie said indignantly.

  The boy spat on the floor in disgust. “Well, I wouldn’t take the filthy Lennix name, not for a thousand crowns.”

  Allie walked silently along the maze of passages. Carli stayed with her but the other four hurried ahead—Allie guessed none of them wanted to be seen with the sister of a “turncoat.” As they went, Allie tried to make sense of what the boy had said. Why would the Lennixes want to adopt Joss? And why would Joss agree to such a thing? Surely it could not be true?

  In the dining chamber, Allie
was greeted by sullen silence; it seemed everyone knew about Joss. The prisoners were crowded around the table, cramming as much bread and lumps of meat into their mouths as they could in the five minutes they had to eat. Allie felt faint with hunger. She pushed her way into the crowd only to be met with sharp elbows and turned backs. She had just managed to grab a piece of bread and had retreated to a quiet corner when there was a collective gasp and everyone sprang to attention.

  Mirra and Tamra Lennix stood in the doorway. “Allinson Moran,” they said in unison. “Come with us.”

  The attitude in the dining chamber changed. Glances of sympathy were thrown Allie’s way—Tamra and Mirra were notorious bullies. Prisoners they picked on did not last long. Shocked, Allie looked at them blankly.

  “Move!” Tamra screamed.

  “Now!” Mirra yelled.

  Allie’s exhaustion made her reckless. “Why?” she asked.

  Tamra came up to her. She stood a head taller than Allie, and her gimlet dark eyes looked down with a cold loathing. “Because, Allinson Moran, you are going on a little visit to Bellacrux.”

  Mirra laughed. “For a nighttime snack. Ha ha.”

  Allie was aware of a soft hissing all around her. She realized it was the horrified intakes of breath from her fellow prisoners.

  Tamra lost patience. “Guards!” she yelled. Two Roost guards marched into the dining room. They gave the Lennix salute to the twins and then strode over to Allie, took her by the elbows, and marched her out. The door slammed behind them and shocked silence fell in the dining chamber. It was finally broken by Carli: “She doesn’t deserve that.”

  “No one deserves to be sent to Bellacrux,” another said flatly. “No one.”

  The prisoners finished their supper in silence.

  Allie was marched along a maze of passageways to the service stairs that went up inside the center of the Roost. With the guards hurrying her along to keep up with the prancing figures of the Lennix twins, Allie stumbled up the seemingly endless steps, her mind racing. Bellacrux, Bellacrux, Bellacrux … surely this must be the very same Bellacrux who had killed her great-aunt Ettie? Dragons lived for a long time—she had even heard some lived for centuries, and it was perfectly possible. Fear settled deep into Allie’s stomach as she climbed ever higher, out of the damp and airless depths of Fortress Lennix, into the fresher air of the upper levels. But Allie knew that the better the air became, the nearer she drew to the dragon.

  At last they reached the top, where a finely carved block of stone announced they were on Level One. Instructed by the twins, the guards marched Allie along the landing, and for the first time since she had been taken prisoner, she saw the sky, glimpsed through a stone window slit. It was dark, which surprised her, and a sprinkling of stars gave her a twinge of nostalgia. She remembered nights in Compound Zoll sitting on the kitchen doorstep, watching for shooting stars. Never had Allie expected to remember her time at the Zolls’ with anything like affection, but now it seemed to be almost idyllic in comparison.

  At the end of the landing was a heavy door set in a deep archway, above which Allie read the sign: SENIOR RAPTOR ROOST. NO UNAUTHORIZED ENTRY. While the guards unlocked the door, Mirra and Tamra took the opportunity to slam Allie against the wall. “Payback time,” Tamra hissed. “You don’t punch a Lennix and get away with it.” The door was thrown open and Tamra gave Allie a vicious shove forward.

  “We’ll take the prisoner from here,” said the taller guard abruptly. Allie got the impression the guard liked the twins as little as she did.

  “Health and safety, miss,” the other hurried to explain.

  Tamra snickered. “She can forget about safety,” she said.

  “Not so good for her health either,” Mirra added.

  Their snorts of laughter followed Allie as the guards led her along a long, wide corridor, the walls whitewashed and bright, lit by torches with flames guttering in a cold breeze. At the end of the corridor, Allie saw a huge, vaulted circular atrium, and on its far side a pair of arched doors at least thirty feet high, hewn from dark wood and peppered with reinforcing bars and studs, above which was a faded gold sign reading: LENNIX GRAND: BELLACRUX. A feeling of dread went through Allie—she was near her journey’s end. Another snicker came from one of the twins, and Allie decided that whatever was about to happen, she would not give them the pleasure of showing them how terrified she was.

  They progressed into the atrium, and Allie now saw the reason for the breeze: To their right was an opening in the wall that gave out onto the night. As they walked past, Allie saw a wide runway stretching out into the darkness and caught a stomach-churning sensation of the massive drop below. She had a sudden fear of the twins throwing her off the runway, and felt glad of the guards’ almost protective grip upon her shoulders. They walked slowly on toward the arched doors and came to a line painted on the floor, just out of arm’s reach from a small wicket set into the doors. There they stopped.

  “Where’s Harry?” Tamra asked, her eyes on a small door to the left where Bellacrux’s attendant slept.

  “Mr. Harry is not here, miss. It’s his night off,” the taller guard explained.

  “Good. Just checking,” Tamra said. “You can shove her in now.”

  The guard went pale. He hadn’t expected this. He had thought the twins were merely frightening their prisoner. “In … in there, miss?” he asked.

  “Don’t ask stupid questions,” Tamra snapped. “Yes, in there.”

  “But, miss—” the other guard began.

  “Do what you’re told,” Mirra snapped. “Or you’ll be going in too.”

  Bravely, the guard dared to reply. “I beg pardon, Miss Mirra, but I just want to make certain. As you know, Bellacrux is now incubating the Green’s egg. It’s a highly dangerous time to invade her territory. And the girl’s going in with no food offering neither.”

  The guard’s matter-of-fact words sent a rush of panic through Allie, and she had to fight the urge to fall to her knees and beg for mercy. There was no point, she told herself. The twins would love to see her beg. They’d just laugh and throw her in anyway. And so, to the twins’ annoyance, Allie stared studiedly into the distance while Mirra laughed at the guard. “Ha ha. She’s the food offering.”

  The guards exchanged horrified glances. “Actually, miss, it’s not strictly our job to feed prisoners to—”

  Tamra cut the guard short. “Just do it!” she screamed.

  “Or you’ll be next,” Mirra yelled.

  The tall guard turned to Allie. Under cover of rattling his keys, he said rapidly in a low murmur, “Ladder on the right. Walkway at the top. Get into the refuge.”

  Allie nodded. Her mouth was too dry to speak.

  “Stop your whispering and get on with it,” Tamra snapped at the guards, who still hesitated. “Oh, you brickheads, I’ll do it. Give me the key.”

  Reluctantly the guard handed over the key. Tamra opened the wicket and Mirra grabbed Allie. “Get in,” they snarled, and shoved Allie through.

  Allie tripped over the threshold and fell hard onto the marble floor. Dimly aware of the shimmer of an ocean of green scales not so very far away, she scrambled to her feet and raced up the long metal ladder. Allie reached the top in the fastest time anyone had ever run up a thirty-foot-high ladder. She stopped to catch her breath and take stock. The walkway was a wide stone ledge with red railings. It ran all around the top of a huge, domed chamber, which was lined with green tiles punctuated by the occasional gold stripe. On the far side of the chamber, directly opposite, was a small, enclosed area with a turreted roof and a narrow window, which Allie guessed was the refuge. However, it could have been on the other side of the world for all the hope it gave her, because the only way to get there was along the exposed walkway. And far below, Allie could hear long, deep intakes of breath, like the wind being drawn through a tunnel, and an ominous scratching, which sounded like a dragon sharpening her claws.

  Allie knew she had no choice but to try to ge
t to the refuge. Keeping close to the smooth green tiles of the wall, she began to crawl in slow motion along the walkway. She counted each painfully slow hand-step forward: one … two … three … four … five … six … seven …

  And then came a roar like thunder. It sent Allie reeling backward, her hands clamped over her ears, convinced her eardrums were exploding. Like a wave crashing upon the beach, the chamber’s renowned echo took up the roar and sent it ricocheting off the walls, engulfing Allie in a wall of sound, washing her away into nothingness. Allie threw herself flat upon the cold stone walkway, covered her head with her hands, and waited for the end to come.

  Outside the doors, Tamra and Mirra heard what they’d been waiting for. They did a dance of victory and ran off shrieking with laughter.

  The guards waited until the last vibrations of the sound had died away, and then the tall one spoke. “Shall we go in and, er, you know, see if there’s anything we can do?”

  The other guard shook his head. “We go in there and we won’t come out again. The kid’s just the starters. We’ll be the main course.”

  Allie opened her eyes and immediately wished she hadn’t—looking straight at her was a brilliant green lozenge-shaped pupil the size of a plate. Unblinking, the eye regarded her steadily. Allie stared at the eye’s swirling reflections, which felt like mysterious gateways to another world. She saw the delicate folds of the greenish-brown skin that formed the eyelid and the precise, shimmering green scales that ringed it. Allie knew she should make a run for the refuge while she still could, but she was mesmerized. Slowly, she got up so that she was kneeling, and not once did she take her eyes from the dragon’s limpid green gaze.

  Bellacrux turned her head so that she was facing Allie full on, and it seemed to Allie that all time was suspended. She looked deep into Bellacrux’s eyes and waited for whatever the dragon would do. Allie knew and accepted that there was no escape now, but somehow it no longer mattered. Her whole world lay within those mysterious eyes. Bellacrux took a long, deep breath, and Allie felt the breath from her lungs being drawn into those dark, wind-tunnel nostrils, and then put her hands over her eyes and prepared herself for what must surely come next: dragonfire.