Dragon Wings Read online

  I lean my head back against the tree and look up through the leaves. The sun is harsh, washing all the color from the sky.

  “You have to understand that this has never happened before, Alita. There is no one before us who could give us the easy answers. Find out if the king is alive, and if so, how he can be saved. That is all I know.”

  I just want our meadow back.

  “Perhaps share with me what you did find.”

  “Nothing.” I relay the few mythical tales, the stupid Loch Ness Monster.

  “Oh, and this cranky librarian brought me a pamphlet about mermaids and dragons. It was the only actual dragon mention I ever saw, but nothing about the king.”

  “Who was the author of that book?”

  “It didn’t have a full name. Just an initial. Is that important?” If the book didn’t know anything, why would the author?

  “It very well could be. One book about dragons is better than none, and one author of that information is better than the book. Did you keep it?”

  “No,” I say, my cheeks suddenly hot. “It was right after I got there, and I thought I’d find something better.”

  If he’s mad about my oversight, he covers it with his usual patience. “Do you remember any of the information it contained?”

  “Um . . . some stuff about scales . . . Some smooth, some rough, depending on the dragon. Had some diagrams . . . It said some dragons have scales like jade, and others like opal.” I know there’s more, but I flipped through it so fast.

  Yackros’ voice in my head lowers to a whisper. “You have felt my scales. Are they not akin to stone?”

  I swallow. “So you’re saying it’s true?”

  “What did the book say of our eyes?”

  I close my eyes, trying to picture it. “I don’t . . . there was a section on element eyes with some pictures. Like, ice dragons and fire dragons.” I open my eyes. “Are there really dragons that breathe ice?”

  “What happened to Ruxsiu’s eyes when he threatened you?” he asks.

  I gulp, not wanting to relive yesterday. “There was the shape of flames dancing in his pupils.”

  “I believe I must insist you reclaim that book.”

  It will be Monday before I can get back to the library. I run my hands over my face.

  “Okay,” I say. “I will. But if it didn’t mention anything about the king, even if it is true, how can it help?”

  “That is where the author comes in.”

  “I’ll google them, but it could be a pen name or they could live in China. What do I do then?” I ask, feeling just as lost as before.

  “A book like that in this area? I doubt you will need to search that far. It is more likely that the author has gained their knowledge first-hand and is waiting for a miracle. A miracle named Alita Drake.”

  I smile a little even though I feel more like a disaster than a miracle.

  I pluck at one of the books, opening the cover, then allowing it to fall closed.

  “Yackros?”

  “Yes, Alita?”

  “What if I don’t find the author? What if I can’t? What if I do, but they’re unwilling to help me? Or what if they’ve died and whatever they knew is gone forever?”

  Yackros clears his throat. I can imagine the contemplative look on his face right now. I just wish I could see it. Wish I could hug him, be near him, not have to be on the other side of an invisible barrier keeping us apart. I wish the king would listen to me. We shouldn’t be punished for finding each other. Not when bonded human and dragon is the way things always were until a stupid war.

  “Alita, if the author is bound to a dragon, there is great hope that they’re still alive and waiting for the day of reunion. And if the truth is not so kind, perhaps we may look to other clans for hope.”

  “If there are other dragons out there, why haven’t they already come to the rescue?”

  “We all went into hiding. But perhaps the time has come for revolution.”

  Reassurance flows through my veins. “Is that you? I feel warmer than usual, and a ridiculous sense of hope.” I kind of chuckle.

  “It is I, my dear. As our bond grows stronger despite our distance, it means that our powers will grow. You, too, can comfort me when you’ve learned how to control your own emotions and how they are emitting from you. But not to worry—that can come later. Your strength and resilience are enough comfort for me while I am in this dark place.” The tone of his voice suggests far more than sadness, but I can’t put a word on it.

  “Yackros, are you in danger where you are right now? Please tell me nothing is going to harm you while I’m away. I can’t stand the thought of losing you when it seems like I’ve only just found you.”

  “I am safe for now. Despite Ruxsiu’s evil ways and his belief that only he can create and break the rules, he cannot hurt me without losing all control over these dragons, and at the risk of his life.”

  “Is there anything I can do for you now?”

  “Do not let the emotional toll control you. Remain strong. My little wingless warrior, one day, you will fly. We will fly together.”

  His words are the reassurance I need. If I thought or knew he was being tortured in any form, I wouldn’t be able to focus on anything but that.

  “I will free you. I’m going to find the author of that book. First thing Monday morning, I’ll go back to the library and get it.”

  “Alita,” Yackros says in a warning tone.

  “Yes?”

  “Do not sacrifice everything else for me. Do not forget your schooling. Your family. Your friends.”

  Though I hate it, I know he’s right. “I won’t ruin our chances of fixing this. I will save you, and no one will know.” I pull my knees to my chest, resting my chin on them.

  Trying not to think about Max.

  “Thank you,” he says softly.

  I can feel him growing distant. I know he’s going to tell me I need to go, that the connection is getting weaker through the magic stopping us from being in the same place. But I’m not ready to leave.

  “Alita—” he begins.

  “Don’t.” I stop him. “Don’t say what I know you’re going to say. We don’t have to talk. But please, just let me sit here. Let me believe I’m leaning against your scaly side and we’re back in our meadow. Please?”

  “I was hoping you’d stay. I’ll even snore a little.” He chuckles. Oh, how I’ve missed that sound.

  “Thank you.” I laugh with him.

  There’s a chill in the air as the sun begins setting beyond the mountains in the far-off distance. I watch as it gets lower, wondering how long I can possibly wait before needing to leave. I look in the direction where I imagine Yackros is, wishing I could see him right now.

  “Go, Alita,” he commands kindly. “Be safe. I will be here when you return.”

  I nod, even knowing he can’t see me. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “I eagerly anticipate that time.” His voice is distant, fading.

  I don’t say more, afraid I’ll tear up again. Instead, I just leave.

  Mom and Dad are sitting in the front room, watching TV. I wave a quick hello and go to my room, setting the mythology books on the desk.

  I snatch up my comfiest pajamas from the bed where I left them this morning and go to the bathroom. I carefully remove my shirt, looking at my back in the mirror. The bruising looks as ugly as ever, but it doesn’t hurt as badly to touch.

  I don’t know what was going on last night, but it was unbearable. Now it feels like a regular injury. Around the edges, lapsing over my sides, it’s red. I try not to think about it as I get in the shower.

  Once I’m dried and dressed, I throw my dirty clothes in the hamper and go to the kitchen in search of food, the roar from my stomach reminding me I haven’t eaten anything today.

  “Hey, dear! Where have you been all day?” Mom walks in, carrying dirty dishes.

  “I went to the library.”

  “Oh, that’s wond
erful. Find any good reads?”

  “Yeah, a few. I’m actually just grabbing dinner and then I’m going to get back to them.” I purse my lips, trying not to be awkward, but it’s not working.

  “Sounds like a great Saturday evening. Though I’m a little surprised.” She begins rinsing off the plates.

  “Oh? What makes you say that?” I ask innocently. “You know me, great big bookworm.” Which isn’t exactly true. I mean, I like books, but it’s not how I usually spend my Saturday nights. Or any night in the past year. They’ve been permanently reserved for visits to Runavelius.

  “Well, Max came looking for you. He said you two had plans. Something about a date?” She grins.

  I can feel a blush forming on my cheeks. “Oh.”

  I don’t know how to respond. After last night, I may never speak to Max again. Even if I can’t prove to him that dragons exist, he didn’t need to be a jerk about it. Did he?

  “Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?” She frowns. “Should I be concerned? Or did I just ruin the surprise?”

  “No. It’s just . . . we had a disagreement last night.”

  “I’m sorry. Anything I need to be worried about?” She puts her mom face back on rather than her excited friend face.

  “No, it’s fine. I just don’t feel like going out tonight. I’ll text him. Thanks for letting me know.”

  “No problem, sweetie. If I realized dinner was a no-go, I would have made you some too. Sorry, dear.” She kisses my forehead.

  “I’m perfectly capable of making sandwiches for myself.” I chuckle.

  Mom returns to Dad’s side in the front room. I can hear the TV again, so I relax and dig through the fridge, looking for something delicious, but quick and easy.

  I settle on a cold ham and cheese sandwich and root beer. Then I get comfy at my desk, food to the side, books front and center.

  I keep reading, looking for anything that might be helpful, and really just wishing I’d grabbed that other book today. Unless the school library has a copy, which is doubtful, I have to wait until Monday afternoon.

  After I go through all the books without finding anything—not surprising, considering how my morning went—I’m inclined to give up on the mythology angle. I take another bite of my food and pull my laptop over, pushing the books to the side.

  Yackros said dragons could be found in every country, every culture. That they were hidden around the globe. I already knew there were myths and legends surrounding their existence, beliefs, powers, and whatnot, and that they were mentioned in nearly every religion. But maybe another culture has stuff about dragon kings that can help me.

  I do a search for “dragon culture” and get multiple pages, the first of which is a Wikipedia site. I click on it, figuring it’s gotta be just as informative as anything else I can trust online. And maybe the author of that book has been a contributor.

  The first section describes what a dragon is. It goes into detail about scales and size, ideas that differ in various parts of the world, and so forth. But nothing like what I know to be true, or what Yackros and I discussed.

  The page covers everything from where the word “dragon” comes from to how the myths about them got started. The more I read, the more intriguing it becomes.

  In Chinese and most Asian cultures, dragons were a good luck charm, thought to bring fortune and honor, and to grant wishes. In most European cultures, they were a beast to be defeated. Especially in medieval times, they were the great test of honor. Whoever could defeat a beast so large and powerful could surely be king.

  Maybe the war started in Europe and spread here with colonizers.

  Instead of having Yackros help me with my homework all those times, I should have asked him more about dragon history.

  I continue scrolling. Everything varies greatly depending on what the people of the area believed, their religion, and how myths in those parts began.

  In many parts of the world, dragons were seen as symbols of wisdom. There’s an external source for more information on wisdom symbols. I click on it, and it takes me to a site called Dragon Pearl.

  The website only consists of one page, all about “the great dragon’s pearl.” A jewel that contained all the knowledge of the world. Only dragons could wield it because only they were strong enough to carry such information all at once. And thus, people would travel far and wide to see the dragon who possessed it and ask for wisdom, which he would then garner from the pearl.

  One dragon with a special item. He could be the king, even if the site didn’t exactly say that. I look for any kind of contact information for the website creator.

  A knock on my bedroom door pulls me away from reading further on the jewel. “Yes?” I ask, expecting my mom to ask if I got enough to eat, or maybe if I needed any socks washed for tomorrow.

  The door opens, and without a word Max slips inside.

  I stand and move to cover my computer screen from view. The last thing I need is for Max to see me digging up information on dragons. Maybe one day I’ll show him my findings, but only to prove him wrong. To show him just why his words hurt me so much.

  “What are you doing here, Max?” The annoyance in my voice is a little harsher than I intended, but no less deserved.

  “You didn’t answer my messages,” he says.

  Of course. I should have known.

  “I’ve been busy,” I say shortly.

  He steps forward, reaching for my hands. I pull them away.

  “I came to apologize,” he says. “I shouldn’t have rushed to dismiss what you were telling me. Whether I believed it or not. I’m sorry.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have.” But his words do help a little. “You also shouldn’t have told my mother we had date plans when we clearly didn’t.”

  “I’m not allowed to surprise my girlfriend with dinner? I thought we could use a nice meal to put last night behind us.” He smiles a little and holds up a slip of paper. “But maybe this can at least help?”

  It’s an ice cream coupon for our favorite place.

  It’s thoughtful. Really. I wish it could wash away everything he said last night.

  “Do you believe in dragons now?” I ask. I can’t help it. If I can just have Max on my side, I won’t care if the whole rest of the world thinks I’m crazy. If he could just—

  He bites his lip and sighs. Then he’s reaching for my hands again, and when I pull away, he catches my arm.

  “Hey, hey,” he says quietly. “Let’s not do this again, please. I don’t want a silly fairy tale to come between us.”

  “The problem is that I told you it’s not a fairy tale. They’re real. And even while you’re apologizing, you still think it’s the silly fairy tale coming between us. It’s not. It’s the fact that you honestly thought I’d accept that apology after you insulted me.”

  “That’s not true. And it wasn’t an insult.” His hand snakes around my waist as he tries to pull me closer.

  “Stop it!” I snap. When I pull back, his hand presses on my bruise, and I let out a soft cry.

  “Okay, okay.” He releases me and steps back. “Have you had anyone look at that?”

  I shake my head defiantly. “Of course not, Max, because I can’t tell anyone how I got it. You see, those things go hand in hand. I can’t pretend my life is different from what it really is.”

  “Okay, calm down.” He gingerly cups his palms around either side of my jaw. “I’m sorry for making you feel this way. I can’t pretend I believe in dragons—it’s not fair for you to demand that of me. But I don’t want this topic coming between us. Every couple has their differences, right? Can we start there?” He kisses my forehead.

  Is it unfair of me to ask him to believe in something the world rejects as myth? I saw Yackros with my own eyes before I knew the truth.

  Have I been unfair this whole time?

  “Max . . .” I bite my lip.

  Even if it’s unfair, does that justify his response? Or my parents’?

  “
Let’s just start with ice cream,” he says, holding up the coupon again. “Butterscotch, chocolate, and peanut butter ice cream and no problems. Please.”

  I want him on my side. More than anything.

  “We can’t avoid this forever,” I whisper.

  “We won’t. We’ll take this one day at a time.”

  “One day at a time,” I agree.

  He leans forward, kissing me. I return the kiss, and then I allow him to take my hand and lead me away from my computer toward ice cream. I tell myself we can pull through this. If I give him time and proof, he’ll be on my side in the end. He’ll help me save Yackros, and eventually, everyone will know the truth about dragons.

  History is one of the most boring classes I can think of. It helps a little that Mr. Erickson tries to make it fun and interactive, but it would help me more if he would also tell the version of history that includes dragons.

  I sit down and pull out my notebook and pencil with the intention of actually listening. Instead, I make a list of the things still weighing on my mind. And the fact that I don’t have any more answers than I did a week ago.

  A missing king.

  A dragon wisdom pearl—maybe belongs to king?

  Magic? If I have powers, what are they? Can I use them to help?

  Where can I find information on the king?

  What am I missing?

  I circle the last two words. I need to talk to Yackros again. There is so much about this that doesn’t make sense.

  Yackros said that as our bond grew stronger, more powers would develop. I’m starting to think one of those abilities is hearing because the constant clock ticking is driving me crazy. And the device in question is on the opposite side of the classroom, far above my head, and shouldn’t be audible at all.

  It’s been the same in every classroom all day. Teachers droning on as if any student is listening to them. Let’s get real—school is almost out, and no kid wants to be inside. And the clock, ticking and tocking, as if I need the reminder of when I can leave and go to the library.

  There’s an uproar of laughter throughout the room. I look up, wondering what I missed. All eyes seem to be on one of the guys beside the window, whom I don’t know.