“Project Biogenes is a codename for a series of projects in which the northwestern branch of the agency is instrumental. Most or all have the director’s seal of approval. For reasons I imagine pertain to national security, information about any of them is carefully controlled. What the MASO planned for the dragon eggs, I certainly don’t know.”

~ Bek Trent, M.A.S.O

"It is time,” the wolf rumbled, standing slightly aback from the two steaming eggs. Silver stared at them, unsure whether she should be concerned that the stone beneath each one was turning red-hot. Either way, they were gathering onlookers, tree wolf and bat and nightwing. As the crowd thickened, she became aware that Zien had returned with Cea and Pelorin to watch. Indeed, watching seemed to be all any of the beasts wanted to do. The silence that settled slowly over the caverns was one of hushed expectation, brought about, no doubt, by the anticipation of the hatch and the nearly palpable magic surrounding the two dragon eggs.

As Silver looked on, one of the two eggs very suddenly twitched. Her green eyes widened. This moment, she was sure, meant so much more to the beasts than to her. Zien had said the dragons would tip the balance of power in the beasts’ favor, possibly just enough…then again, in part, it was for this moment that her own life had been reduced to chaos, that she had fled the MASO and joined the beasts.

There was a sharp crack and a single jagged fissure appeared in one of the eggs – her egg – and stretched rapidly down its side. Silver felt herself relax. The wolf, as ever at her side, looked on peacefully as well, eyes alight. Another loud crack split the hush, and the gap in the eggshell widened, lengthening until another followed, snaking its way around the sphere until the shape of a twisted labyrinth was emblazoned across the smooth white surface of the egg. The pattern converged inward even as it spread outward, and white light danced between the cracks. Magic surged through the air, invisible but hair-raising.

Finally, the shell split and shattered and fell away. A small, ungainly form flopped out on four unsteady legs. Somehow, Silver made out head from tail of the writhing creature as it rolled onto its stomach. Its bright yellow eyes took in its surroundings with a silent awe. A part of her had expected dragons to be born like reptiles, prepared to take on the world. As Dr. Smarthawk had promised, the creature before her was much more like a bird; it was ungainly and apparently lonely, its wedge-shaped head cocked to one side so that it surveyed them all with only one golden eye.

A part of her had also expected that the dragons would be beautiful, and in this, Silver was far from disappointed. When the tiny red hatchling opened its mouth, she saw that it was lined with sharp, pinpoint teeth. When it moved, the candle flame dash of lighter color across its chest danced. The light from the surrounding stones flickered and glimmered off the hatchling dragon’s scales so it shimmered like some strange, clumsy fire spirit, and its golden eyes burned with the force of its magic. Tiny, soft horns of white bone protruded from the back of its skull and down its swan neck, jutting from its tail. Then it stretched its wings – wings far too large for something so small. Fully extended, they were already the length of the wolf from head to tail, but as thin and fragile as the paper wings of a folded crane. Light from the walls shone through them, casting a reddish hue over the earth.

Silver held back uncertainly at first because the tiny hatchling did not speak words like the wolf or any other beast; she simply felt the force of its will as it moved, turning its gaze to her. It must be too young for words, she thought. Then the creature crooned softly. Silver leaned forward as her mind and body both reached out to the little creature. Its magic was slowly dwindling and concentrating, where at first it had flared wild and bright. Silver extended her hand to touch the hatchling dragon.

The little beast growled pitifully and took a clumsy step towards her, tail whipping as it finally found some inner balance and managed to stand without trembling. Only half a step more, and the hatchling beast was rubbing its head and neck up under her hand to take full advantage of her touch. She smiled for the first time in a long while when the hatchling’s long tail coiled around her wrist in playful delight, and glanced around when she became aware that the wolf approached, head tentatively raised as it sniffed at the hatchling. She was taken off guard, however, by how fiercely she sensed the little dragon’s sudden and terrible fear of her silver-furred friend.

Moving quickly, Silver soothed the hatchling as it prepared a clumsy strike. She was surprised by the golden glare the newborn beast cast in her direction. It was dubious. Distrustful. The beast calmed beneath her touch, however, and dragon and wolf were left to regard each other, each with profound suspicion and pride. Neither seemed prepared to look away from the other, though the wolf was clearly the elder. The tiny hatchling finally nipped experimentally at the wolf’s twitching nose. Elorian merely rumbled a warning, and licked the dragon’s scaly snout.

Silver stifled a laugh.

“What’s your name?” she found herself whispering, asking the question she had never asked of the wolf when they had met weeks ago. As she spoke, she gently traced the surprisingly warm scales at the edge of the hatchling dragon’s jaw. Its bones were like toothpicks, but weirdly soft beneath her touch. The little beast merely licked at her fingers hungrily in the plainest language that she knew.

From the crowd around them, Zien growled softly, “Even the pups of the mighty dragons are born hungry.” Sound filled the cavern, a rumble and hiss of agreement.

Forcing her eyes away from the tiny red dragon, Silver realized that an equally small dragon now rested in front of Bek, its thin black wings outstretched and tail curled protectively around its claws. It was a striking midnight black. Twin red lines much like a lizard’s stripes ran from a single point on its snout all the way down its back. She wondered vaguely if anything had ever stared so adoringly at Bek, and quickly decided nothing had.

“There are no dragons left to give us their milk,” Dusk was hissing thoughtfully, and continued with a swish of his tail. “These creatures are not so different from the great ice birds…I have heard rumor of one in these woods.”

“Indeed, there is such a beast,” Zien rumbled. A murmur of sound passed through the surrounding beasts once more, many suggesting recent locations of the ice bird. From the mutterings, Silver was certain it was the same beast that had saved her from the Zara and recently lost its young as a result. But at the moment, the Zara was far from her mind. She could sense the hatchling dragon’s hunger as a dull physical pain in her own gut, a strange feeling that was clearly not her own. The dragon chided her with several pleading chirps, fixing its mournful golden gaze on her until she could see the beginnings of a thin green iris around its black pupils. Distracted, she only translated the beasts’ words to Bek when he nudged her to ask what was happening.

“The jishereanal happa…that might work,” he agreed.

“They are notoriously free spirits. How would we convince such a beast to help us?” Zien growled softly, in the closest representation of a human language Silver had yet heard from the beast. It was butchered, but Bek seemed to understand.

“I don’t know, but we have no alternative. I wasn’t involved in the MASO’s research, so I don’t know what formula they had planned to use.”

Silver was mildly startled when the little crimson dragon promptly planted both front paws against her and proceeded to climb to a perch upon her shoulders. There it coiled into a sleeping position, its neck curled up against hers and its hot breath prickling against her skin in a way that suggested it was ready to go wherever they must. As she wondered how unnaturally light the little beast felt on her shoulders, her eyes were drawn to the small shape on its chest. From so close, it looked even more like a candle flame.

“From today, let’s call you Seijelar,” she whispered suddenly, “Does that sound alright, little one?”

“Heart of the Flame…a fitting name,” the wolf growled, hooded ears angled thoughtfully. Seijelar opened slit, newly green eyes for a moment to regard Silver lovingly, and then closed them again in sleep. Why green, she wondered. Silver assumed it must be some other magic that the dragons possessed, since when she turned to see Bek’s dragon in a similar position, she also saw that its reptilian eyes were a deep bronze. Seijelar’s mind relaxed then, and Silver turned back to Zien.

“How long will they survive without food?”

It was Comet who whistled an impatient answer. “Not long, nerske. You can see how their scales dull already. I’ll send Skree.”

Presumably at the srinn’s words, a nightwing leapt from wherever it had perched among the multitudes of its brethren above and vanished quickly from the caverns. Sound followed in the great bat’s wake – Seijelar’s name repeated a thousand times over, until Silver’s ears rang endlessly with the sound; her name, among the beasts, repeated more often than she really liked. And then Bek named the tiny beast on his shoulder as well – Skourett – and his name and the crimson-striped dragon’s name joined theirs. Silver knew the excitement would fade soon, as what had happened reached the outer edges of the caverns and the news no longer needed to spread, but for the time being, it was eerie and strange.

She got up to escape it, heading for the entrance to the caverns. There she paused, looking out. From her vantage point, the forest seemed larger than ever before, a great green blanket stretching on forever into the distance. She could not even have pinpointed the MASO among all those trees, much less the great ice bird. Instead, she watched the small brown smudge that she knew must be Skree disappear against the backdrop of the landscape, and sighed. It would take her a very long time to pick her way safely down the mountain, if that was even possible.

“We’re probably in for quite a wait,” she observed.

“No more than usual,” Bek said, coming to join her. “If you’re bored, you can always practice your magic.”

“Feeling especially helpful today, aren’t you?” He made no response, and Silver turned her attention back to the view.

And so they waited, the cool breeze occasionally penetrating the rock and whistling as it dashed against the broken face of the cavern entrances behind them, the snow slowly building up where the rocks overhead no longer staved it off. Nightwings passed in and out over their heads, and occasionally landed several feet behind them. It was a practice that eventually stopped causing Silver to duck or flinch every few minutes. Comet came and spoke to Zien, her wide eyes reflecting the sleeping dragons with something like newfound hope, and then passed back into the shadows of the caverns. It was not until the third such visit, when the tree wolf bid Comet stop before she overexerted herself, that Silver realized the great bat must be using magic to repair the innards of her home.

Hours passed.

Bek eventually took to discussing magic with Silver, specifically describing the use of magic to enhance physical abilities. She listened half-heartedly as he explained that such magic took little energy but very precise focus and control, and paid more attention only after he admonished her, “If I don’t tell you this stuff, you won’t even understand what level you’re at right now, Silver. Very low, in case you were wondering. If you do end up encountering the Zara again, it’s magic that will keep you alive. Ryan would be pissed if you got killed after you burned down his gym.”

It only occurred to her later that Bek had, very quickly in fact, figured out how to make her listen. The thought irritated her all the more for all that good it did her.

Finally, the wolf rumbled a warning, and Silver looked up over the line of the trees for the thousandth time that day to see the dim black outline of a bird. Behind it flitted a smaller and more agile shape. It must have been another half hour before the bird drew level with them, and tucked its wings to land with a distinct tilt at the edge of the caverns. It was still injured, she realized, from its battle with the Zara. Blood seeped from re-opened wounds across its chest, and a dark, evil magic hung there, making the wounds themselves a poisonous black. Yet even injured, it was magnificent. Tiny ice motes drifted from its pale blue feathers, settling like snowflakes against her eyelashes and hair. The bird was easily as large as the nightwings, its expression softened by the lash-like feathers above its eyes.

Somehow, Silver did not wince as the bird reached down and gently ran its long beak through her hair, blowing softly. After a second, it lowered its head to eye level, and stared piercingly at the hatchling dragon as well. Long seconds passed, though the hatchling dragon merely opened its jade eyes and blinked slowly in the manner of a cat. The bird turned to Bek then, doing much the same thing. He eyed it suspiciously throughout the exchange. Finally, it straightened and folded its wings stiffly behind itself, regarding the rest of their gathered entourage somewhat less welcomingly. Silver noticed that its eyes always traveled back to the little dragons.

“We ask a great favor of you, Guardian,” Zien growled softly, “We ask that you raise these young dragons as you would your own.”

The ice bird eyed them all quizzically, and then chirped, a sound of acceptance that had no greater meaning. Zien lowered her head gratefully.

Silver thought for a moment that would be the end of it. Zien excused herself, and none of the surrounding nightwings seemed disturbed by the newcomer’s presence. Only she and Bek and the wolf remained with the dragons, and she wondered if Bek was also trying to figure out how exactly the strange relationship between the ice bird and the dragons was going to work. Then the bird lowered its head again and thrummed something low in its throat. It was a strange sound, a breathy trill that did not carry. Silver wondered if anyone but those directly around her could possibly hear.

“We meet again, human,” it said. Silver nodded slowly.

“You saved me. Thank you. I’m sorry for what happened…”

The beast blinked, seeming unconcerned.

“He speaks to you, human. I know this. He calls to you, from the castle gates,” the bird sang. Silver stared, feeling the wolf’s attention on them both. “The Zara are beings between worlds, shadowwalkers and dreamspeakers. Once they find the object of their heart’s lament, they never cease to haunt it. Deep in your soul, you also know this, as all things know the shadow of death.”

Silver was slowly shaking her head, and the bird fluffed its feathers, clicking its beak thoughtfully.

“I am guardian of the Castle of Divides, human. I see in your eyes that you understand what I speak of. I will give all I can to these dragons, and in return, you must take them to the castle with you. They must be with you when you face the Zara.”

“Wait, why? He—” she began, only to be interrupted.

“You have reached him, human. The Zara do not speak. They do not call. To all things living, they are death. I saw you…” the great bird clicked its beak once more, frighteningly close to her face. Silver felt the little dragon on her shoulder wake with a hiss, and the wolf grumbled something about making enemies.

“There is light even in the deepest darkness. This Zara was once a dragon. The hatchlings will help him to remember what he was…they will wake the light that remains in him.”

“It’s too dangerous,” Silver protested.

“The beasts protect you as nerske. They require a beastspeaker to earn their peace. But they also require the dragons, and the dragons must have a human beside them if they are to survive this world. You understand? If the Zara kills you, that will be the end of everything. No one in this world can protect you forever, but the Zara will not kill these hatchlings as he is now. If he does, he knows he will be lost forever. Thus, they go with you, and you go to face the evil that would destroy you.”

“I don’t even know what I could have done to the Zara to make me his…lament.”

“Then you will learn. And when you are done, you will have the Stone. Trust in this.” The great bird lifted its head sharply, clearly done with their conversation. Silver stared incredulously.

“When I return,” the bird said, now in passable English, “I feed the dragons.”

“No creature outruns the shadows,” Elorian rumbled as the bird launched itself into the air and wheeled once over them before passing over the trees again, “but till the end of days, I will protect you.” Silver turned to face the wolf, tangling her fingers into its silver fur.

“What was that all about?” Bek asked.

Silver had no answer for him. How could she? She had just been told to go and face the creature she most hated, and while she welcomed the chance, she was not so sure she welcomed the motive. It did not sound like she was supposed to kill the Zara; she was supposed to remind him of who he had been. She was supposed to take the hatchling dragons, who she really wanted to leave with Zien for their own safety, and face down a creature more demon than beast.

And she did not even know why.