Mason Crafton's Arc

Chapter 14 of 15

The dragon settled on the ridge. Its claws scraped stone. Its head lowered until one yellow eye met Mason's. The jewel bird sat quiet on Mason's wrist, earring still knotted to its foot-band. Mason had the summons. Now Mason needed the forest to see it. Below, the bearded man stopped halfway up the slope. His wife caught up behind him, cheeks red from the climb. The Hendersons stared at the dragon and did not move. The princess's flock circled once, then broke apart. Her shutter above the trees stayed open, silent. But the ridge itself was not silent. A low growl came from the pines. Fenwick Hollow stepped out onto the rock, orange eyes fixed on Mason. Behind Fenwick, other shapes gathered at the treeline. A spotted bobcat crouched over a fresh kill, chewing without taking its eyes off Mason. A doe and her fawn watched from a gap in the brush. Higher up, a gray wolf that was not Fenrir stood with its ears flat. They had come for the dragon. Not for Mason. Emma crawled to Mason's side, pulling Lily behind her. "They don't know you," she whispered. "Show them." Mason lifted the wrist with the jewel bird. "Down," Mason said to the dragon. The dragon did not move. Mason's throat went dry. The words at the birdbath had summoned it. No one had taught Mason what came after. Fenwick took another step forward. The bobcat dropped its kill. The wolf's lip pulled back. Mason remembered the cloth. Mason still had one strip of the prince's cape tucked in the belt. Mason pulled it free and pressed it flat against the dragon's lowered snout. The dragon breathed in. Then it breathed out, hot, over Mason's hand. The dragon lifted its head and turned it toward Fenwick. It did not roar. It only looked. Fenwick backed a step. The bobcat picked up its kill and slunk into the brush. The wolf sat down. A voice called from below. "Wait." The prince stood at the edge of the pines, out of breath, pink cape torn at the hem. He had come up from the swamp trail. He looked at Mason, at the dragon, at the cloth in Mason's hand. He did not draw a weapon. He did not shout for the princess. "That's mine," the prince said. His voice was flat and tired. "You used my scent." "They obey it," Mason said. "They obey me," the prince said. "For now." The dragon did not turn to the prince. It stayed beside Mason. Fenwick did not move toward the prince either. The forest had chosen where to look. The prince saw it. His hand went slack at his side. "We should talk," he said. Mason lowered the cloth. The beasts had not bowed. But they had stopped. That was enough for one day, and it was more than the prince had left.