With a spasm of fear, Maylie realized she had been ensnared by one of the Hidden People. She hugged her arms to her chest, shaking and sick.
She knew she had been lucky. She had not met the sticky end that so many did at the hands of those ancient creatures. Whatever had been leading her must have grown bored with its game. Of course Maylie had heard old tales of these occurrences throughout the winters: folk led astray on dark nights by will-o’-the-wisps, and children snatched from their homes by evil beasts, but she had never expected to be caught out herself. She had become too complacent; her friendship with the silvery shadow creature had made her too bold.
Maylie was so distracted by feverish thoughts of what couldhave been that she did not notice the rocks beside her begin to quiver.
The ground gave a shudder, followed by an almighty crash as something vast stirred.
She spun around, a scream tearing from her throat.
A pair of inky eyes stared back at her.
The rocks were not rocks at all.
It was a dragon.
Its form was long and sinuous, its body coiling like a river of muscle over the surrounding rocks. Pale scales shimmered and leathery wings arched from its back, folded now, but wide enough, she imagined, to sweep it effortlessly into the sky. Heat rolled off the beast in waves, chafing her cheeks. Wisps of steam curled from its nostrils, rising in fine, twisting spirals, and its claws, dark and curved, flexed against the rock, scraping lightly. The dragon’s eyes, narrow and slitted, fixed on her.
Maylie’s heart pounded. She realized now that she had been brought to this place on purpose by the impish creature. Its sudden departure was no stroke of luck; it had left her trapped. She had no weapon, no plan, no knowledge of what to do when standing this close to a dragon.
No!she cried in the ancient language.You cannot hurt me.
But the dragon made no indication that it had heard her. Instead, it growled and the rumble of an avalanche vibrated from its throat. It shifted its webbed, bent feet.
Maylie tried not to think of the blackened animal remains that were sometimes found at the edges of the village boundaries. Or the hunting screeches that could be heard echoing down the mountainside.
I am not the Maiden Sacrifice,she said in a high, trembling voice.You must honour the treaty.
A few villagers had tales of encounters with dragons, but most were no more than brief sightings – huge forms flying overhead or hulking bodies scrambling up distant ridges. If Maylie were not so terrified, she might have been amazed to be so close to such an elusive, powerful beast.
I am not the Maiden Sacrifice,she repeated.
But the dragon did not seem to hear her. It became very still. Unnervingly so. Like a watchful cat with an unwavering, hungry gaze.
They waited.
The only sounds were the sigh of a breeze skimming over rocks, and the rhythmic drawing of the dragon’s breath. Maylie could feel it on her skin, hot and dry. Her fingers twitched at her sides, aching to do something – run, fight, reach out – but she remained still, bound by the creature’s watchful stare.
Then the dragon moved.
Without warning, it reared up, its long neck snapping backwards, its jaws parting to reveal rows of gleaming, dagger-like teeth. The motion sent a rush of scorching wind blasting against Maylie’s face, and she stumbled, heart thumping.
It was going to strike.
A gasp escaped her lips as she crumpled to the ground, arms flung over her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the searing pain, for the final burst of heat, for the teeth to close around her.
But the strike never came.
Instead, the air above her thundered with sound. A bellowing screech, high and furious, boomed from the sky like the voice ofthe mountains themselves. The force of it pressed down upon her, shaking the ground.
Maylie opened her eyes just in time to see the dragon’s head jolt up, nostrils flaring, wings unfurling slightly. Its body tensed as if ready to spring.
Something else was coming.
A vast, dark shape loomed overhead. Gusts of wind from huge wings battered them and a stream of golden fire exploded into the sky. Ruddy scales flashed and claws as long and thick as tree trunks glinted. This beast was enormous – ten times the size of the other dragon – its muscled body flashing in the sunlight like molten copper.
Maylie knew instinctively what this creature was: the Great Dragon.
It swooped down and lashed out at the smaller dragon, huge jaws snapping, before lifting its head and roaring again. A sound like sky-shattering thunder. Maylie did not need to understand dragon-speech to know what it was saying – a warning.
