Rage of the Dragon Read Online Free Page A

before the fog lifts.”
    Wulfe eyed the necklace and put his hands behind his back. “I can’t. It will burn me. Maybe kill me.”
    Aylaen had forgotten that the fey child could not—or would not—touch metal of any kind.
    “It’s not going to kill you. Look, I’ll wrap it up in part of my shirt—”
    Wulfe was shaking his head. “It doesn’t like me. I can tell…”
    “Wulfe, I need you to hide this!” Aylaen said desperately. “We might be captured and … and…”
    “You don’t want Treia to find it,” said Wulfe.
    Aylaen was quiet a moment and then she said softly, “Yes.”
    Wulfe slipped his hand into hers. “We’ll hide it together. I’ll show you where. You put it inside and I’ll use my magic to keep it safe. And the dragon will help us.”
    Wulfe started running, tugging her along. The moment Aylaen let go of the mast and stepped into the gray world she became disoriented and confused. She could not see anything; the mist swam before her eyes. Wulfe appeared to have some sense of where he was going, for he dragged her along confidently. She stumbled after him and tried not to think about tumbling overboard.
    “We’re here,” Wulfe said. “There’s my hiding hole.”
    Aylaen put her hand on the carved wooden neck of the dragonhead prow. Above her was the nail from which hung the spiritbone of the Dragon Kahg. Aylaen knelt down on the deck and stared intently where Wulfe was pointing at the bulkhead.
    “Where? I don’t see anything.”
    “Of course you don’t,” said Wulfe. “It’s hidden.” He added something beneath his breath about “stupid Uglies.”
    “How do you get into it?” Aylaen asked. The wooden planks looked as though they hadn’t been touched in years, since the carpenter nailed them in place.
    Wulfe began to sing.
    Open to my waiting hand.
    Open to my knowing eye.
    Open to my little song.
    Open it and don’t take long.
    To Aylaen’s vast astonishment, a piece of the plank disappeared, revealing a snug cubbyhole that had been carved out of the bulkhead. The hole was lined with sail cloth and filled with objects too varied and numerous to count. Aylaen caught a quick glimpse of what looked like a lock of her hair, a piece of charred bone, and a silver thimble. Then Wulfe clapped his grubby hands over her eyes.
    “Don’t look!” Wulfe ordered. “I have important things in here that you mustn’t see.”
    “I’ll keep my eyes closed,” Aylaen offered, mystified by what she had seen.
    “You better,” said Wulfe, and he slowly drew away his hand.
    He put his hand on her hand that was holding the spiritbone and guided her to the cubbyhole. She wondered if there would be room inside for the necklace, for it was large, and the cubbyhole had seemed very small and almost stuffed to capacity. It must have been larger than she imagined, for she had no trouble sliding the necklace inside.
    “Don’t open your eyes yet,” Wulfe cautioned.
    Aylaen obeyed and sat back on her heels, her eyes squinched tightly shut. She heard him rooting about in the cubbyhole and then, when he apparently had arranged everything to his liking, he told her she could open her eyes. Aylaen saw that everything, presumably including the spiritbone, was now covered with the sail cloth.
    Aylaen hesitated. “Will I be able to the find the hiding hole again? Will the magic work for me?”
    Wulfe snorted in derision. “You’re an Ugly! No, it won’t work!”
    He cast a glance in the direction of the dragon’s head that was somewhere above them and whispered, “But I think if you wanted the necklace and the dragon wanted you to have it, the dragon would help.”
    Aylaen couldn’t see the dragon’s head, obscured by the thick mist, but she could see a flicker of red gleam from Kahg’s eye.
    “You can close the hole now,” said Aylaen.
    Wulfe replaced the plank and began to sing another song.
    Keep safe from thieving hands.
    Keep safe from spying eyes.
    Let them meet a swift