The Caged Dragon (Cycle of Dragons Book 1) Dan Michaelson (online e reader .TXT) 📖

the forest.” I stared through the trees, trying to catch sight of the wagons again, wondering where the people were. There was no sign of them. “I didn’t think it was the Djarn before, but now I don’t know. What if it is them?”

“The Djarn haven’t attacked us before.”

We needed to examine the wagons. What if this was an ambush? Given how difficult it was to track the Djarn, they could be right in front of us, completely invisible.

Getting to the wagons meant moving away from the cover of the trees and risk exposing ourselves. I wasn’t going to get the answers that we needed otherwise.

We stepped out , and I hurried toward the closest wagon. It was made of rough wood. The back end of it wasn’t very large. There was something strange about it, almost as if it had been scratched.

I pointed to it, and Joran nodded, neither of us wanting to speak.

Running a hand along the wagon, I searched for a way to open the back of it, but there didn’t seem to be anything. Joran circled around to the front.

We needed to be quick.

As far as I could tell, there were five wagons arranged in a row. There was no sign of people. It was almost as if the campsite had been abandoned. Moving to the next one in line, I found the same scratch marks along it as I had on the last one.

Something about them was strange. They were deeply scored, as if some creature had pawed at it. I crouched down, looking at the ground, and I saw a pawprint. It was enormous.

“I’ve seen this before,” I told Joran as he leaned over my shoulder. “It was when I got caught out in the storm.”

I traced my finger around the pawprint, trying to see if there was anything about it that I might recognize, but it was strange to me.

Getting back to my feet, I moved on to the next wagon. Much like the other two, there were scratches along the length of it.

Surprisingly, heat radiated from it.

It was different than the others. Whereas the other two had been rough wood, almost weathered and looking like it had been reclaimed from some old building, this one was recently built. The wood appeared thicker than the others, and metal was worked within it. Almost as if it formed a cage.

Somewhere in the distance, a deep rumble echoed through the trees.

Joran straightened, glancing over to me. “Whatever we’re going to do, we need to do it quickly,” he said.

“We need to open them. We can start with the back one.”

“I didn’t see any way to open them,” Joran said.

“We have to pry it open, then.”

I headed to the rear wagon and began to circle around, looking for some way to open it. The wagons were linked together, and I suspected that when we reached the front of the caravan, there would be a train of horses, something that wouldn’t be feasible with normal-sized wagons, but with smaller ones like this, barely coming up to my shoulder as I stood on the ground, a team of horses would have little difficulty pulling it.

I saw no lock. No door. No windows. Nothing.

I scrambled up the side and found a hatch.

A deep roar erupted from deep in the forest again. It was followed by an explosion.

Joran hissed up at me. “Hurry up.”

I reached for my belt knife and pried into the hatch. I worked it, wiggling it in place, and finally managed to pop the hatch open. It was narrow, barely more than two feet by two feet wide. Once the hatch was open, I poked my head down, looking into the darkness.

“Alison?” I whispered.

I didn’t really expect that Alison would be in there. I didn’t know what was going to be in there, only that I needed to see.

The steady roar out in the distance caught my attention again. I stared through the trees. Whatever was out there must have been the reason that the people here had disappeared.

When the rumbling faded, I glanced back to the hatch, and my heart stopped.

A head poked out.

12

The face that looked up at me was an older woman with dark hair, and an expression of irritation on her face. She watched me for a moment before pushing past as she climbed out onto the top of the wagon.

“Are you with them?” she snapped.

I shook my head. “I’m not with anyone. Who are you?”

She glared at me. “I’m with the Academy, fool.” She crawled out of the wagon and looked into the distance along the line of wagons. “We were ambushed.”

When the steady rumbling came again, the woman jerked her head around, looking into the forest. I felt a strange pressure building around me, as if a storm was moving in, the electricity of the lightning shooting toward me, though I didn’t think that was what this was.

“With the Academy?” I whispered. I tried to get a good look at her, but I couldn’t be certain she was who she claimed. There had been many people with the Academy at the testing.

The woman turned her attention back to me, eyes darting all around. They looked past me. The firelight was moving. There came a shout, as she shoved me forward and off the wagon. I stumbled, rolling away, trying to get to my feet, but the woman jumped down and dragged me toward the trees. Joran was there, looking over at her, and I couldn’t tell why, but he seemed troubled.

“My sister was chosen. She should be here,” I said.

“Is she?” The woman regarded me for a long moment. “If she was captured, there isn’t much that can be done.”

The firelight began to bob in the distance.

We didn’t have much time.

“You better run, boy, before they return,” the woman snapped at us.

Joran looked up at me, concern written in his eyes, before glancing over to the woman.

“Who will return?” I asked, unmindful of the firelight that danced behind me. I