The crowd in front of us suddenly parted, and an old man stepped through, stopping just a few feet away. He was thin, nearly skeletal, with twig-like arms and only a few strands of wispy white hair stuck to his head. He regarded the three of us with eyes that were still sharp and clear, then raised a clawed hand to point at me.
“You,” he rasped in a thickly accented voice. “Name.”
“My name?” I asked. Around us, the warriors remained silent, still keeping their spears pointed at us. The old man didn’t answer, just continued to watch me with piercing black eyes. “Ember,” I said quietly. “My name is Ember Hill.”
He nodded once and stepped back, and the men surrounding us lowered their spears. The old man raised a withered hand and beckoned, indicating for us to follow.
We did, trailing him down a narrow path that soon disappeared as we went deeper into the jungle. Even for Garret and Riley, it was difficult to keep up. The old man, and the men surrounding us, moved like ghosts through the trees and vegetation, silent and nearly unseen. They blended perfectly into their world, unlike us, the noisy intruders, stomping through the undergrowth in our rugged boots, hacking at vines along the way. The jungle closed in around us, becoming darker and even more tangled, as if offended by our presence and our attempts to clear a path. After only a few minutes, I was lost, and all sense of direction had vanished into the canopy. Which made me nervous. If our mysterious guides decided to disappear and leave us stranded in the middle of the jungle, we might never find our way out.
“Where do you think they’re taking us?” I whispered to Garret after a few silent minutes. The soldier had holstered his weapon but his posture was still tense, his eyes constantly scanning our surroundings and the men slipping noiselessly through the trees beside us.
“I don’t know,” he replied, glancing at something overhead. I looked up and saw a small yellow monkey on a gnarled branch, peering down at me with large black eyes. “But they knew your name,” Garret went on. “That means they were waiting for us.”
We continued into the darkness. The men and our guide never slowed down or said anything, either to us or each other. The one time Riley tried talking to our guide, the old man simply shook his head and put a finger to his lips. After a couple hours of walking, I was starting to wonder if this hike would ever end, if the jungle just went on forever, when Garret suddenly nudged my arm and pointed to something in the trees ahead.
At first, I didn’t see anything different or unusual: just looming trunks, undergrowth, vines and shadows. Then the outline of a wall, stony and ancient, appeared through the trees, nearly invisible with moss, vines and gnarled roots. As we got closer, I spotted a crumbling archway in the wall, flanked by a pair of statues so weathered and moss covered that they were entirely featureless. Beyond the barrier, rising toward the jungle canopy, a huge stone structure, as weathered and moss-eaten as the statues, towered among the trees.
My brows rose. Was this where these people lived? A hidden village deep in the jungle, surrounded by the ruins of an even older civilization? I was amazed. It was hard to believe that there were still places in the world this untouched by modern conveniences, where humans had lived without electricity or phones or computers for hundreds of years.
As we approached the archway, however, the old man stopped and turned, holding up a hand. I looked around and saw that the warriors surrounding us had backed away and were standing several yards from the entrance, as if reluctant to step close.
The old man looked at me, then Riley and Garret. He took a step back, pointing at us, then to the archway beyond. I frowned.
“You’re not coming with us?”
No answer, just the repeated motion of pointing at us, then to the gate, a little more vigorously this time. Riley looked at us and shrugged.
“Guess we go on without him. Be on your guard, though. I’d hate to walk into an ambush of archers firing at us from every nook and cranny.”
We stepped toward the archway, moving cautiously as we approached the gate. I glanced over my shoulder once, and saw that the old man and the rest of the warriors were gone. Like they’d never existed.
We continued through the gate. Beyond the wall, the arch opened into a massive courtyard. Moss and vegetation had swallowed half of it, with weathered stone tiles poking up from the green and walls crumbling under the weight of gigantic roots that snaked over them like monstrous pythons. They slithered through the courtyard between uprooted stones and piles of rubble, making the footing treacherous. Crumbling buildings covered in moss and vines stood at the top of the steps, and trees pushed up through the stone, splitting roofs and walls as they reached for the sky. Between the steps and the buildings, more streets snaked off into parts unknown.
“It’s awfully quiet,” Riley remarked as we ventured warily through the sprawling courtyard. Insects scurried away from us, fleeing over rocks and vines, but they were the only sources of movement I could see. “And I’m not just saying that to be cliché. You guys can feel it, too, right?”
I nodded. He was right. A few minutes ago, the jungle was teeming with sound: buzzing insects, calling birds, howling monkeys in the treetops far overhead. Now the canopy was dead silent, as if every living creature for miles around was afraid to make a peep.
“I don’t like it,” Garret began as, at that moment, a tremor went through the ground under our feet.
We froze in the center of the courtyard, weapons out, bodies tense as we gazed around. The tremor came again, a faint vibration that made the rocks tremble, accompanied by a muffled boom. And another. Insects scattered in every direction, and a few pebbles went tumbling and bouncing down the wall, as the footsteps grew steadily louder, and my heart beat faster and faster. It nearly stopped when I saw a ridge of spines moving behind the roofs—roofs that were at least forty feet tall.
“Aw, shit,” Riley breathed. And then words failed us as a dragon the size of a building walked calmly between the ruins and into the light.
He was old; even without his massive size, I could tell that much. His scales were a dull blackish-green, the color of swamp water, and his enormous wings were tattered and full of holes. Moss and vegetation grew along his back and shoulders, giving him a shaggy look, and I suspected that when he laid down, he could blend perfectly with the jungle floor. His curved black claws were longer than my arms, and bony horns swept forward from a narrow, skull-like face, eyes burning orange-red in the sockets. Those piercing eyes now fixed on me, as the great Wyrm Ouroboros raised his head, towering over us all, and flashed the most terrifying smile in the world.
“Ember Hill.” His voice was the deep growl of thunder, shaking the earth and reverberating in my bones. “Daughter of the Elder Wyrm. We meet at last.”
My legs were shaking, and my voice had gotten caught somewhere between my heart and my throat. For a moment, I had the crazy, horrifying thought that perhaps Ouroboros had drawn us here, to a forgotten temple in the middle of nowhere, to kill us. Or, more specifically, me, the daughter of his ancient rival, the Elder Wyrm. Perhaps with the thought that disposing of the Elder Wyrm’s blood would somehow aid in Talon’s destruction. Or maybe he just wanted revenge and he couldn’t strike at the leader of Talon directly, so he would kill her daughter instead.
Well, if that’s the case, the joke’s on you. I’m not the favored twin. If you eat me, all you’ll be doing is...
...denying the Elder Wyrm immortality. My blood turned to ice. I was the Elder Wyrm’s vessel, created to house her memories so she could essentially live another thousand years. Was that why Ouroboros had called us here? Did he somehow know of the Elder Wyrm’s ultimate plan to become immortal and want to end it for good?
Ouroboros, I realized, was still watching me, like a king waiting for his slave to lift his face off the floor. I glanced up into the ghoulish, reptilian face and saw amusement in his burning eyes. He knew the effect he was having on us, and was probably reveling in it.
Come on, Ember. You’re the daughter of the