The only reason I had stuck around all this time had been because of Sparkle, and some modicum of pity I had for my mother. I didn’t love her—she had never loved us. But I knew she couldn’t fend for herself, either. Or rather, she’d never learn. Like it or not, our existence had been the downfall of her world.

  “Half your blood belongs to my kind, so watch your tongue—” she started to say, but I had heard enough.

  I started to turn away. “I’m going after Shellsong. Then I’m coming back here to get Sparkle. I’ll take her with me. If you even dare think about selling Sparkle off, I will make your life a living hell for the rest of my days. If you try to turn her against me, I’ll make you rue ever being born. However, if you feed her and treat her right, we’ll both be out of your hair for good. Do you understand?” I leaned toward my mother, jabbing her in the chest with my sword.

  She caught her breath, staring into my eyes. “You’d do it, too. Wouldn’t you?”

  “Don’t test me. Don’t ever think of testing me.” I shook my head. “Do as I say and you’ll be free of us for good.”

  After a moment, my mother let out a long breath. “Fine. You have a deal.”

  “Do you know where they took Shellsong? If you do, tell me now.” I grabbed her wrist and squeezed, hard. “I’ll break every bone in your body if you don’t. I can’t kill you, but I’m stronger than you are now, and you know I’m ruthless enough to carry through my threat.”

  She shuddered. “They took her to Owlanvine, in Wildemoone. They work for a slaver named Tershak.”

  I shoved her, stopping short of knocking her on the ground, then returned to the cave, where I gave Sparkle a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. You be a good girl, all right?”

  She looked up at me, a child’s innocence in her eyes. “I promise, Storm.”

  Mother appeared in the doorway. “When are you leaving?”

  I ignored her. “Good girl, Sparkle. While I’m gone, I want you to help out around here. I’ll return as soon as I can.” I glanced over at my mother, who pressed her lips together, but said nothing. “And you, remember what I said.”

  “Who’ll catch the meat?” she finally asked.

  “Get your precious sons to help. Make them earn their keep for a change.”

  With that, I loaded up a pack and slung it over my shoulder, added a couple daggers to my weaponry—I had my sword, a bow, and a quiver full of solstone arrows and now the knives—and headed out of the cave. A dark moon was rising, but I didn’t care. I had learned how to make camp quite comfortably over the years.

  When I was ready, I turned to my mother, who had followed me out into the night. Even in human form, she was taller than I was. Trueblood dragonkin stood close to seven feet tall, while I topped out at about six-four. But I had a purpose and that gave me strength, whereas she had waned through the years.

  “One last thing: Give me the money you earned from selling Shellsong. Don’t argue because I’ll take it by force if you refuse. I may not be able to kill you, but I can hurt you.” I held out my hand, waiting.

  She started to speak, then met my gaze. The lightning crackled in my eyes, and she stepped back with a gasp. Without a word, she placed a small sack of coins in my hand.

  “Is this it?” I narrowed my eyes, peeking inside the bag. There were at least twenty crowns inside, along with what looked like a sapphire ring.

  “Yes, every coin.” She shrank away, looking defeated.

  Satisfied she was telling the truth, I tucked the sack inside my tunic. I went back into the cave and once more, I kissed Sparkle’s forehead, enjoining her to wait for my return. Then, without another word to my mother, I turned and strode out of the cave. If Shellsong was still alive, I’d find her.

  CHAPTER TWO

  My name is Storm. Of course, that’s not my true name—but nobody will ever know it except for me. When any form of dragonkin is born—whether hatched from an egg like the Truebloods and first-generation hedge dragons, or born live from a union between hedge dragons, or even hatched from the tiny eggs no larger than a chicken egg, like the dragon-horses—our mothers whisper our true name to us. As it passes into our ears, it vanishes from our mothers’ minds and imprints on our brains.

  Every dragon knows their true name. And we never tell anyone what it is. Names equal power. The spirits of metals found that out when their names became known and men gained power over their strength. Instead, we offer a face-name, a name that holds no power over us.

  To the Truebloods, hedge dragons and dragon-horses are corruptions of the original race. But the fact is, we exist and we have as much right to our lives as they do to theirs.

  Long ago, before the Forgotten Kingdom opened and the Truebloods flooded out of the gates, the Storm Lords would pass through on the winds. Elementals and Storm Lords aren’t affected by most magical boundaries or force fields—they tend to go as the weather does, and the weather is everywhere.

  The Storm Lords—the Lords of Ice and Lightning, of Snow and Hurricanes—were mesmerized by the Dragonni. At least, the males of their species were. Their females didn’t even know the Dragonni existed. But as volatile males are wont to do, they reached out with their grasping hands and took what they wanted, capturing females with their powerful forces. They mated with the Trueblood females, in an attempt to tap the dragons’ powers for their own use.

  But it didn’t work.

  The Storm Lords huffed off, in search of other prey, leaving behind their seed. And out of the unlikely union, children were engendered—the first generation of hedge dragons. We’re called hedge dragons because we were born hidden in the forests and hedgerows. Our mothers struggled to raise us in secret but eventually the truth came to light.

  The Truebloods cast out the victims of the Storm Lords, after maiming them. My mother was one of those, wing broken and left for dead. But she had managed to hide us, so we survived. When the Dragonni could catch the children—the hedge dragons—we were put down as abominations. Neither true dragon nor true elemental, we were considered tainted. And unlike the Dragonni and the Storm Lords, we turned out to be mortal. We could be killed.

  So yes, my face-name is Storm and I’m first-generation hedge dragon. My mother’s name is Ivekta and my father was some random Lightning Lord. I’ve never met him and I never want to. As much as I loathe my mother for how she’s treated us, I also pity her.

  Wing-broken, soil-bound, cast out by her people and trapped in her human form forever, her punishment is eternal. And forever is a long time to live with those memories.

  I skirted the edge of the meadow near our home and snuck into the forest. I was tired, but I wanted to find a good hiding spot for the night. Some of the Dragonni were nocturnal—the shadow dragons, especially. The last thing I needed was to have one of them on my tail.

  Especially now that the seal isolating the Forgotten Kingdom had been broken. Now, some humans were venturing into the land of the Dragonni, who really didn’t appreciate the intrusion. It would be just as bad of an end for me if one of the Truebloods saw me and thought I was mortal. Whether they labeled me human or hedge dragon, either way, I’d be toast on a stick.

  I cleared the entrance to the wood, grateful that we lived so close to the border. While I had never been outside of the Forgotten Kingdom, I didn’t have far to go to reach the entrance where my world opened up into other realms. The question was, which route would I take to reach Wildemoone? I had a vague understanding of geography and while I knew other realms buttressed against the Forgotten Kingdom, I wasn’t at all sure about which direction to go.

  I was hoping to meet somebody who could give me directions before I came to the Pillars to the Sky—a pair of massive pillars in the shape of dragons carved into the mountains marking the entrance to the Forgotten Kingdom. A thousand feet tall, the columns had been created by some ancient race long forgotten. I had seen them from a distance—but never up close.

  For now, though, I sought for a comfortable place to set up camp. I found a turnout, a small glen hidden by the cover of the high pines that lined the road.

  I gathered enough rocks to circle a small campfire and scraped kindling off a fallen log. Then I used my hatchet to chop enough wood for the night. After arranging the kindling in a loose pile, I lifted a small piece of the wood shavings to my lips and closed my eyes, focusing on the lightning that was inherent in my breath. I blew on the wood and a spark leapt from my lips to the wood, igniting the feathered shavings.

  Before it could burn out, I slid the flaming shavings into the pile of kindling and they caught, blazing to life. I fed the fire small sticks until the flames caught hold, then added bigger pieces of wood. Within minutes, my fire blazed. I held my hands out to it, welcoming the warmth against the chill of the autumn night.

  I had packed some smoked deer meat and ate it cold, supplementing my meal with an apple. It wasn’t much, but in human form I was able to eat less. After I finished my meal, I arranged my pack as a pillow and wrapped my blanket around my shoulders, lying beside the fire with my sword next to me. The owls began to chatter, their soft hoots echoing through the forest, and with their song for comfort, I closed my eyes and slept.

  The next morning, I woke in time to feed what was left of the fire again. I broke off a chunk of bread and impaled it on a sharp stick, holding it over the fire to toast. Then I did the same to a thick wedge of cheese until it began to bubble and melt. Spreading the cheese on the bread, I ate while staring at the forest around me. I could hear the bubble of water in the misty morning air, and decided to find the stream. Water usually led downhill, and if I could follow the stream, it would probably lead me out of the Forgotten Kingdom.

  Reluctantly, I decided it was time to head out. I stamped out the fire, packed away my blanket, and shivered as I fastened my cloak around my shoulders. Winter was on the way and the high mountains were already thigh-deep in snow. Our home was in a snow and rain shadow, but the frost was thick on the ground, and the winds were rising.

  I found a private place to do my business and then headed toward the sound of the water.

  The stream was fifty yards ahead, coursing over stones, the white caps frothing like a rabid wolf. It was flowing in the general direction of the Pillars to the Sky. I drank my fill, shivering as the icy water trickled down my throat, then filled my water skin and washed my face and hands. After freshening up, I headed out again, following the river as it flowed away from the mountains behind me.

  The day passed quietly. I saw no one, save for a deer here or there. I finally broke through to a clearing and froze. I thought I saw a naga in the open lea, and I ducked behind a tree.

  Nagas were, in general, dangerous. Besides their poison, they were also carnivorous. While they wouldn’t hunt me for my skin, I had no doubt that I’d provide a tasty meal. If I turned into my dragon shape, I could put a stop to them, but again that was dangerous, and the farther away from the Shred I got, the more dangerous being seen would be.

  I wasn’t sure if the reptilian creature had seen me or not. As slowly as possible, I began to inch sideways toward a thick cover of bracken and brambles. The direction the wind put me downwind. My favor. Since I knew how to traverse the forest in silence, if it couldn’t smell me, chances were I could sneak past without a fight.

  I finally reached the edge of the clearing and, still unnoticed by the snake lord, I slid into the undergrowth, crouching down to duck-walk. I was close enough that if I made one mistake, he would notice me.

  The naga was at least eight feet long, his torso male with a bare chest. The rest of him coiled beneath him, a serpent’s belly and tail.

  A sudden crack split the silence as I stepped on a hidden branch. I froze again.

  The naga reared up, looking around.

  Crap, did he hear me?

  I waited, barely breathing as he carefully scanned the meadow. Then, after a few moments, he slithered off in the opposite direction. After he was fully out of sight, I finished crossing the clearing and plunged into the forest again. But I kept myself alert. Nagas were usually solitary creatures, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

  By late afternoon, I was heading downhill, the grade getting steeper and the trees growing closer together. I used them for balance when the slope became too steep, and more than once I tripped and landed on my hands and knees. But I was used to roughing it and before much longer, up ahead, the stream broke through the trees into yet another clearing.

  I hurried forward, wanting to get the lay of the land before the light waned. As I exited the woodland, I found myself near a steep trail that was so old it had been compacted to be as hard as stone. The trail led toward a massive pair of gates, open wide. The stream passed through a culvert beneath the right wall. The gates were so high I had to crane my neck back as far as I could in order to catch a glimpse of their tops. The long edge of each gate had been carved into a massive dragon. The wings would interlock when the gates were closed.

  The Pillars to the Sky.

  I stood there, staring at the gates and at the world beyond them. I had never been far from home—never been to the Edge of the World, as this place was called. Wildemoone was somewhere out there, as well as several other realms that also bordered the Forgotten Kingdom, each one separate and yet connected by a series of energetic borders.

  Debating whether to make camp before I stepped out into the wide world—dusk wasn’t far from showing its face—or to push on, it occurred to me that I had no clue what to do. I had no idea of how to find Wildemoone. I didn’t even know what direction to take once I left the Forgotten Kingdom and there was no one to ask. I stood there, waiting, but when no unexpected guidance appeared, I decided to plunge through the gates and hope for the best.

  I moved forward, one step at a time, my gaze glued on the massive gates. They were the key to a world beyond my own. A faint crackle of energy ran between them—the portal. When the Forgotten Kingdom had opened up, the only way out was heavily blocked. But the gates had torn open, leaving the portal weak and barely there. Instead of a force field, it was now a pale shadow of itself, offering no transportation abilities, or protection against the outer world. But the Dragonni didn’t need protection.

  Beyond the gates, the slope continued. Ahead, I could see a road that forked in three directions—to the left, straight, and to the right. I glanced over my shoulder at the world I knew, then back to the world ahead. The mist of the evening was beginning to rise, clouding the way.

  “My life has always been lived in mist,” I whispered. “Each day of my life has been merely a day of making it through. Each morning has been a relief, and each evening has ended with very little hope for the next day. I’m tired of hiding. It’s time to leave the kingdom.”

  As if in answer, lightning forked overhead in a brilliant flash as thunder rumbled deep, and the clouds burst open to send a cascade of hail down around me. The pieces of ice were the size of a shine fruit—big enough to hurt as they pelted to the ground. Adjusting my cloak, I took a deep breath and crossed the border, the energy flaring around me as I left the world I was born in, along with everything that was familiar, behind.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I stood at the center of the crossroads, listening. To the right, the road sloped down. Straight ahead, the road continued at a gradual rate of decline, and to the left, it was roughly even. The trails had all been trod for many a century. Even if heavy rains came, they wouldn’t swell with mud.

  In vain, I strained to see the sign of wagon tracks. Shellsong’s slavers had to have come through in the past couple of days, but there were so many marks that there was no way for me to tell which was the most recent. Merchants and traders traversed these roads regularly.

  Finally, I took a deep breath and made an arbitrary choice, turning left. I set out on the trail. As the hours wore on, the scenery began to change. The vast swath of forest that flowed out from the Forgotten Kingdom continued along both sides of the trail, but as the road evened out, the trees began to thin. Despite more open clearings, the forest seemed to go on forever.

  I looked around for a place to camp. It was dangerous to travel at night in uncharted country, but I couldn’t see any place that looked safe enough to make camp, so I kept going, pulling my cape tighter as the temperature dropped.

  It had been cold and windy on the road earlier, but now the cold was really seeping in. The rain had let up, replaced by a thin flutter of snowflakes. The flakes were as small as grains of sand but if the storm intensified, I’d have to seek shelter. Some Truebloods could handle icy weather or hellish heat, but most hedge dragons weren’t resistant to extremes.

  Dusk fell abruptly, and with its arrival the temperature plunged even more. I swung off the road and finally found two small trees between which I could pitch a tent. The material was light, made of Venetia worm silk, which mimicked duck feathers in shedding water. It also helped to keep the winds out, and they had definitely picked up with the falling temperatures.

  After I erected my tent, I dug out a small circle next to the tent, then went hunting for fist-sized stones to create a small fire ring.

  I gathered wood from downed branches, enough to get me through the night, and then set to crafting a fire. I carried tallow-smeared shavings in my pack, and I set up a pile of kindling shaved off of one of the driest pieces of wood I could find.

  Picking up the shavings, I breathed sparks onto the bundle. As the sparks caught, I nestled the flame beneath the pile of kindling. If all else failed, I could turn into my dragon shape and really start a fire, but that would give myself away to anybody passing nearby, and I tried to avoid shifting shape whenever possible.