Crystalina Willowglow's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Crystalina Willowglow counted the dragons she had lost this year. She counted four. Each one had died because she found the hunters before she found the dragons. She stood at her outdoor cooking station, stirring a pot of berry mash that no dragon had come to eat. Her green wings drooped. She had built a mushroom house big enough for a dozen dragons and their young. It stood empty behind her. A safe home meant nothing if she could not find the ones who needed it. Somewhere in Alagaesia, the last wild dragons still hid. She did not know where. The hunters, it seemed, always did. That morning she tried the only thing left. She had spent weeks brewing a lure from honey, char-root, and dried river moss. The smell was supposed to travel for miles and call any dragon that caught it. She poured the mixture into the fire. Smoke rose thick and sweet. She waited through the whole afternoon. Nothing came. By dusk the fire burned low, and she began to scrape out the cold pot. Then the leaves shook. A small dragon pushed through the ferns. Its scales sparkled green, edged with gold. It limped. One wing hung wrong against its side, and a fresh cut ran along its shoulder. It stopped at the edge of the clearing and watched her with wide brown eyes. Crystalina held still. She broke off a piece of honeycomb and set it on the ground. "You're hurt," she said softly. "I won't touch you. Just eat." The dragon crept forward and took the honeycomb. It ate three more pieces from her hand. When she reached for the cut, it flinched but let her clean it. She wrapped the shoulder in cloth. The dragon leaned into her palm and made a low, rumbling sound. "Where are the others?" she whispered. "There must be others." The dragon turned its head toward the mountains in the north. Then it pushed something from between its claws — a torn scrap of hide. Marks were scratched into it. A trail. A place. Crystalina had seen such marks before, on the arrows hunters left behind. She understood at once. The dragon had not wandered here by accident. It had fled from a nest, and it had brought her the way back. She finally knew where the last dragons hid. But the torn hide told her more. The scratches were a hunter's map, dropped or stolen. If this dragon carried it, the hunters were already close to the nest. Maybe already there. Crystalina rose and looked at the empty mushroom house. Then she looked north. She had wanted this knowledge for a year. Now it came with a clock she could not stop. She fed the fire one last time and gathered her salves into a pack. The little dragon watched her, ready to lead. "Then we go tonight," she said. "Before they do."