Mason Crafton's Arc

Chapter 1 of 15

Mason Crafton crouched behind a fallen log at the forest's edge and watched the prince feed the dragon by hand. From the log, the mountain filled the sky, and the dragon's dark scales caught the morning sun. Mason had spent three weeks tracking these two. Three weeks of cold meals and wet boots, learning what the prince knew that no one else did. The forest had a throne. Whoever commanded the dragon commanded every wolf, boar, and stag under the trees. Mason meant to take that seat. The problem was simple and it was killing them. The dragon did not answer Mason. It answered the prince. Mason had tested it. Twice they had lit a smoke fire on the ridge and waited. Twice the sky stayed empty. The beasts of the deep woods watched Mason pass without fear now, which was progress, but none of them bowed. A lynx had followed Mason for two days and then wandered off when a jewel-bright bird cut across the trees toward the prince's house. That was the truth of it. Every road in this forest ran through one man. Mason shifted their weight and studied the prince. He wore a pink cape and a small crown and he laughed while the dragon nosed his shoulder. He did not look like a king. He looked like a boy who had gotten lucky. Mason had heard the story from a farmhand at a gate two valleys over. Ruby. Lock of hair. A gift, and then trust. The prince had bought the dragon with a piece of himself. A flash of blue cut through the branches above Mason. One of the diamond birds. It circled once and dropped toward the wooden watchtower that stood past the treeline, where the princess kept her post. Mason understood then. The prince did not command the dragon alone. He had a partner, a signal, a whole system of birds and smoke and diamond. To take the throne, Mason would have to break the link between them, or copy it, or replace one of them entirely. A gift of their own. Something the dragon could not refuse. Mason backed away from the log without a sound and worked their way through the trees toward the small, tidy house near the forest's edge where the prince slept. Lights burned on every floor. Mason circled the porch, found a window unlatched at the back, and slipped inside. On a shelf above the hearth sat a small wooden box. Inside the box lay a single black scale, the size of Mason's palm, still warm. Mason closed their fingers around the scale and felt the weight of it. The prince's proof. The dragon's first gift. Mason tucked the scale into their coat and walked out the front door. By the time the diamond birds noticed, they would already be halfway up the mountain.