Dragon Ghosts by Lisa McMann

Author:Lisa McMann
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aladdin

Mother of All Dragons

Deep underground, the Revinir was quietly and quickly gaining power. The army she was building was very different from the king’s—one that couldn’t be defeated. She paid little attention to the concerns of her blue-uniformed soldiers, who were often muttering and worrying about how they’d be able to fight against the green military’s increasing numbers. She ignored their pleas to build her army in the same way by recruiting people from the outside. “It’s not necessary,” she told them. “Numbers aren’t important.” But they had a hard time believing her. When one grumbled too much, she silenced him by shooting a fiery lightning spear into his chest, like she’d done with Alex Stowe. It was deeply satisfying.

She didn’t care about losing a few soldiers. Her need for them was dwindling. The truth was that the Revinir could take over the land almost single-handedly. She required only a handful of key players to help her out. Sure, she still needed the soldiers around to threaten the slaves and keep them in line until she had them fully under her power, but that was about all the soldiers were good for these days—they’d proven to be pretty useless when the Artiméans had attacked. And when they’d tried to ambush the king in his silly parade, they’d wound up being taken out in mere moments. They were severely outnumbered by the green army, which was making them uneasy. The more insecure they got, the more annoying they got. Frankly, the Revinir couldn’t wait to get rid of them.

As the woman sipped dragon-bone broth and grew stronger, she spent a little time thinking about the three escapees—Dev, Thisbe, and Rohan. Now, they were actually important to her. She was furious about what they’d done. But she knew she could get her two test subjects back for sure. The third, Rohan, would be a little harder, but not impossible. They’d return to the catacombs soon enough.

She’d determined by now that the ancestor broth had been a waste of time. Even after she’d taken in gallons of the nasty stuff, it hadn’t affected her in the least, other than to give her a sour stomach. So she sent her soldiers out to sell it at the market and stuck to the dragon-bone broth, which continued to strengthen her.

Now she entered her throne room and opened a glass bottle of the liquid. She chugged it down, barely grimacing. She was almost growing to like it. Moments later a few more scales burst from her skin. She was covered now—thinly in some places, like around her eyes and throat, and thicker in others, like her arms and legs and torso. The scales acted like armor. She peered at her reflection in the golden sheen of her throne and noted with satisfaction that two large lumps on her back were decidedly growing.

She dabbed her speckled forehead with a cloth to wipe away the sweat. Her inner body temperature seemed be rising, keeping her core’s fire going strong.

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