“Perhaps we should turn back now,” Nira pointed out, “while we still can.”
“You know the way down,” Denig teased, and Nira passed him a smirking glare.
“Which others?” Skif prompted, holding up four fingers, and his face lit up as he counted another and recalled, “White Water.”
“Said to favor the river that flows down the mountain,” Denig explained, “its glassy black flesh is swirled with white like the rapids.”
“And Night Phoenix,” Skif finished. “The oldest of them. A dark dragon that dissolves into pile of stardust upon its death, and in that stardust can be found an egg, for the dragon to be reborn.”
“That sounds beautiful,” Ava mused, and Rhien nodded her eager agreement.
As we rounded the final switchback to the top of the mountain, I asked, “Which do you think is more likely to help us?”
Denig shrugged, bringing us to a halt below the peak. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
Our trail had ended at the start of a cave, the opening of which was larger than castle gates—three stories high at the topmost part of the arch, and just as wide. The inside was so dark that we couldn’t see very deep into it, but there was an eerie sort of stillness that washed over us that told me this was the right place. None of us made a sound as we stared at the massive opening, peering into the darkness as though expecting to be greeted by a dragon.
“What now?” Skif whispered.
Denig took in a breath to answer, but I waved my hand to keep him quiet. I could sense a heartbeat, one so large and deep and steady that it would’ve been impossible to miss. The only reason I hadn’t recognized it the moment we stopped was because it was slow. Unnaturally slow. Each beat came five seconds apart so that it hardly sounded like a pulse at all, but there was no mistaking the uneven throb of a heart.
Almost as if the dragon knew I’d become aware of it, there was movement. The rocks at the topmost part of the opening shifted just slightly, and the creature was so perfectly blended to the grays of the mountain stone that its shape was indistinguishable amongst them. It looked as though entire boulders were moving, as though they slipped down from where they’d been resting at the top lip of the entrance, and disappeared in a scurry into the darkness.
There was no doubt in my mind that each and every one of us had seen it, but nobody said a word. Nobody so much as moved, and we stood there for almost a minute, barely even breathing.
Then Nira’s hand set on my back, and she pushed me a step forward. “Go after it,” she urged, sidestepping closer to Denig and shoving him out next to me. “You’re the ones who think they’re docile.”
Denig and I looked at each other, and despite his insisting earlier that the dragons were docile, he seemed rather reluctant to go into the cave after them. “Any stories?” I asked, also glancing behind us at Skif. “About people who’ve done this before?” They both shook their heads.
I looked at Ava, for advice or encouragement or maybe just comfort, but she gave an unsure shake of her head. “If you’re not confident…”
And though I hadn’t asked, Rhien said, “I agree… maybe you shouldn’t risk it.”
I wasn’t confident, but though I didn’t want to leave without trying, I didn’t know what to do. Call out to them? Wander into the cave? We didn’t even know how deep it went, or if the rest of the dragons were truly in there. So I stood there for a long minute, simply looking and growing more nervous by the second, until my heart was pounding behind my ribs.
“You going sometime this month, maybe?” Nira asked impatiently.
“Give me a minute,” I murmured, taking in a deep breath to work up the courage.
But Nira seemed done waiting. “It’s been a minute,” she said, reaching down to pick up a fist-sized stone. “I’ve a better idea.” And she cocked her arm back.
Ava gasped. “Nira, no—”
It was too late. Nira had thrown the rock as hard as she could into the entrance of the cave, and it disappeared into the darkness. The inside must have sloped downward, because the stone didn’t hit the ground for a few moments, and then it bounced repeatedly. The heavy clicks of it striking the floor of the cave echoed back out to us, getting farther and farther, until it rolled so far we couldn’t hear it.
Two more seconds passed, and then something else rang out—a booming roar. A terrifying sound so loud and powerful that it shook the ground beneath our feet, rocked a handful of pebbles straight over the opening of the cave to the ground below, and sent a flock of birds over a mile away scattering from their tree. It was so powerful a sound that it knocked Denig a step back, and my heart jumped into my throat.
It froze every one of us to where we were standing, but we wouldn’t have had the chance to run even if we tried. There was a flash of movement in the darkness, and then a dragon came swooping out and upward, stretching its body out of the cave and landing with such an enormous thud that my balance wavered. And it faced us and straightened.
Its thick, canine shaped body was a brilliant swirl of black and dark blue, with quills straight down its neck and back. Sharp spikes as big as my forearm lined its cheekbones, and its head alone was the size of a four-person carriage—large enough to swallow two of us whole if it didn’t decide to cut us in half with the teeth that lined its jaws. Its eyes, which were each larger than my midsection, were a pale golden yellow that sparkled in the sunlight. It had wings between its front shoulders, each as long as its body, which it fanned out as it straightened and that were so big they left us all in shadow. This was Night Phoenix.
It would’ve been a sight to marvel at for hours and hours, but Night Phoenix’s jaws stretched wide, and it craned its long neck our direction so we could see all three rows of its massive teeth. And it let out another shrill roar. That sound was paralyzing this close up. My heart stopped, and my lungs stopped. My brain locked up. I stood there wide-eyed, staring into the rows of teeth until the sound ended and left my ears ringing.
Night Phoenix marched forward, taking earth-shaking steps until its enormous head was hanging only feet in front of me. In my frozen, terrified state, I forgot that Denig said our magic didn’t work on adult dragons. “Stop!” I ordered in panic, but it didn’t just not work. The pain that was usually a dull ache when I controlled animals flared, cracking through my skull so powerfully that the agony was blinding. I buckled over, throwing my hands to my head as Night Phoenix let out a furious rumble.
Something crashed into my ribs, and as I hit the ground with Denig on top of me, the dragon’s open jaws slammed into the earth where I’d been standing. It turned on us, preparing to strike again, but Nira grabbed another stone and hurled it at the dragon’s head.
“Over here!” she yelled as it hit Night Phoenix in the cheek.
Skif had already taken five paces backward in retreat, but Ava and Rhien were still standing at Nira’s side. The dragon huffed in annoyance, giving a single flick of its long tail that hit all three of them square in the chest. They went flying, crashing to the ground in a messy heap while Night Phoenix snarled at Denig and me. It seemed ready to take another snap with its jaws, and neither of us would be able to reach our feet and run in time. So I spark jumped off to the side, unable to land on my feet so that I hit the ground on my back, and the dragon wheeled around to face me.
There seemed nothing to be done. I couldn’t control it, and I couldn’t hurt it, and I couldn’t run. But at that very moment, as Night Phoenix bared its fangs over my face, staring down at me to show me just what kind of death I’d meet, my brain started working again. I recognized the nighttime swirls of color in its scales. Felt the familiarity of those soft yellow eyes. Memory served me well.