Violet Stormwing's Arc

Chapter 22 of 46

Violet led her flight over the cliffs before dawn. The old cottage sat where she remembered it, gray stone against the drop. But when she landed, her heart sank. The roof had caved. The one room could barely fit her, let alone a mother dragon, a pink dragon, and six hatchlings. There was no den, no shelter, no place to hide a whole flight through the coming day. She had chosen this home for safety. Now it offered none. The hatchlings shivered on the wet grass. The pink dragon paced the cliff edge, tail lashing. Violet turned in a slow circle, searching for anything. Then she saw it, half a mile down the ridge: a great ruined fortress, its broken towers wrapped in dense purple flowers. She had forgotten it was there. As a child she had been told never to go near. "You won't find a bigger hollow than that one," said a voice behind her. Violet spun. An old woman stood among the stones, tall in a travel-stained blue robe, wild silver hair loose in the wind. Her staff glowed faint at the tip. Violet knew her by reputation only. This was Rowena Ashveil, the one who knew hidden paths no map ever showed. "You've been watching us," Violet said. Her hand moved toward her knife. Rowena did not flinch. "I watch everything on these cliffs, girl. Your dragons will freeze before noon." She tipped her staff toward the flowered fortress. "That old keep has cellars deep enough to swallow ten dragons. Walls a foot thick. No smoke shows through stone." "Why help me?" "Because I dislike the lord who hunts you." The old woman smiled thin. "And because I'm curious whether you're as good as they say." Violet weighed her. She had no better plan. "Show me." Rowena walked ahead, parting curtains of purple blossoms with her staff. Behind them Violet found a low arch and a stair going down into cool dark. The cellar opened wide, dry, and hidden. She waved the flight inside. The mother dragon folded her wings and settled. The hatchlings burrowed into the pink dragon's side. For the first time in days, none of them shook with cold. Violet stepped back into the flowers and breathed. She had done it. A whole flight, sheltered, unseen. But Rowena lingered at the arch, her staff dim now. "You should know," the old woman said. "I'm not the only one who remembers this keep. Kael's men used it as a way station, years back. They send a patrol through every full moon to check the stores." She looked at the sky, where the pale disk still hung. "That's tonight." Violet's stomach dropped. She had traded an open cliff for a stone trap. The shelter that saved her flight would bring the enemy straight to its door.