Meaghan McIsaac - The Bear House

P ROLOGUE

T HE Shadow Dragons were screaming. Their cries rose out of the dark, echoing over the peak of Mount Draccus.

Men had come for their eggs.

Quintin Wyvern crouched in the shadows of a rocky outcrop, watching the retrieval party approach the nests. The young prince had promised his father he would stay in the castle by his ailing mothers bedside. An outbreak of firelung had taken hold of the Kingdom of Dracogart, and Mother was just one of many fighting to survive. But that night, when the dragons began wailing, Lady Wyvern had squeezed Quintins hand.

Go, she told him, her breath ragged from the sickness. Go and witness their sacrifice.

And so Quintin left her. He had followed hidden paths so as not to be seen, the mountains breath thick and fetid and burning his lungs.

From his vantage point behind an outcrop of obsidian, Quintin saw the lights of the city of Dracogart below, saw the men in impressive armor walking up the main road, their horses sidestepping with nerves.

The mother dragons hissed at their approach, plumes of smoke billowing from their gaping mouths in warning. Only three eggs had been laid that year, each one a precious gift from the stars. They would take a further two years to hatch.

One of them would never get that chance.

There was a chirrup at his back, and Quintin startled. He turned and saw a Shadow Dragon, a juvenile female, crouched on the stones above him. She blinked at him, her yellow eyes anxious.

Umbra.

Quintin pressed a finger to his lips and turned back to watch the soldiers.

The mother dragons paced, encircling their nests. The light of the mens torches danced and glinted off their dark, stony scales.

Quintin knew they would not give up an egg without a fight. Shadow Dragons did not abide the laws of men.

And yet the law demanded an egg all the same. Word had reached Dracogart a week ago from the Major: the Kingdom of the Shadow Dragon must surrender one egg. And that egg would pay for the firelung cure that could only be found in the land of their enemies, the Ring Highen.

We cant! his mother had said, fuming, when she had still been well enough to stand. There has to be another way!

Chancellor Furia, King Wyverns most trusted advisor, had agreedeven though Furia and Queen Wyvern rarely agreed on anything. Sire, it is too sinful even to think of.

The eggs of the Shadow Dragon were sacred. Blessings from the holy stars themselves. How could Dracogart allow anyone to take what had been given by the stars?

The Major was chosen to be Major because he is favored by the stars, King Wyvern told them. If the Major believes this is the way to save our people, then we must trust that he is right.

Save the people, yes. And more importantly now, thought Quintin, save Mother. Her condition was worsening by the hour.

But still, he felt a nervousness in his gut. What if Father was wrong to allow this?

Umbra chirruped again, as if she could read his thoughts.

Quintin looked beyond Dracogarts rocky valley, over which the mountains shadow fellFather was out there, somewhere, hunting with his mount Draco, the largest dragon alive, the dragon-king of the Shadow Dragons. When the Majors men had left the castle for the mountain path to retrieve the egg, Father had left with Dracothe king of dragons would be angry to hear his wives so distressed, hed said.

But Quintin knew the truth. Seeing the Majors men take an egg from the Shadow Dragons nest was too painful for even his father to bear.

There were shouts from the men in armor, and when Quintin looked, one had approached the edge of the nest. The man held a spear, its tip fitted with a fat, dripping hearth weaselas if a treat would be enough to trade a dragon for her child.

One of the mother dragons slunk toward him, a threatening hiss venting from her smoking maw. The fins at the edge of her jaw fluttered. She was eager to crunch bone.

Courage, men! shouted someone. Hold! cried another. And still more were roaring orders as the man in armor inched closer to the dragon.

Quintin held his breath. The young soldier stepped across the line on the ground where the rock had been scorched by dragon breaththe threshold of the nest.

Too close, Quintin whispered.