Violet Stormwing's Arc

Chapter 12 of 46

They flew north at dusk, the mother dragon low against the ridgeline, her brood strung out behind her. Violet rode the mother's neck and counted wingbeats. The hatchlings held for a while. Then the pink one dipped. The gold-horned one fell behind. Small wings beat slower and slower. They were young, and this was their first long flight. If Violet pushed them across the open peaks, one would drop from the sky. "They're tiring," she called back to Theo. He clung behind her, his fine vest torn at one shoulder. His easy smile was long gone. "Kael's men are still below," Theo said, soft as always, leaning close so she could hear over the wind. "You slow down, they gain." "I slow down, or a hatchling dies," Violet said. "Those aren't the same choice." She scanned the slope. Boulders. Snow. Then, tucked against a cliff, a dark mouth ringed with green. A cave, its stones draped in thick moss. It looked warm. It looked hidden. "There," she said, and turned the mother dragon toward it. The mother landed hard at the cave mouth. The hatchlings tumbled down after her, half falling the last few feet. Violet slid off and herded them inside. The moss made the floor soft. Their panting slowed. The gold-horned one crawled against its mother and shut its eyes. Theo crouched at the entrance, watching the valley. "Torches," he said. "Two miles down. They're climbing." Violet knelt among the hatchlings. Rest would save their wings. But hungry dragons would not rest, and torches meant men would find the cave by morning. She needed the little ones fed, quiet, and strong enough to fly at first light. She emptied her pack. No rabbits left. Only rope, a knife, and coins. "There was a farm at the treeline," Theo said. He did not offer to go. He never did the dirty work. "Woolly things penned near the barn." Violet took the rope and went. She moved down the slope in the dark, past the torches, and reached a low stone pen. A black-and-white sheep stood alert at the rail, its woolly coat pale in the moonlight. She looped the rope over its horns and led it up the mountain, slow and quiet, while the torches climbed the other side. Back in the mossy cave, she butchered the sheep and fed the brood. They ate until their bellies rounded. Their eyes grew heavy. One by one they slept, curled against their mother in the warm dark. Violet sat with her back to the moss and watched the entrance. The hatchlings would fly stronger at dawn. She had bought them the night. But the torches were closer than before. Kael's men had found the trail up the mountain. By morning, when the brood was ready to fly, the men would be at the cave mouth.