Contents ( 50)
- CONTENTS
- PROLOGUE
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY
- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
- CHAPTER THIRTY
- CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
- CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FORTY
- CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
- CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
- CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
- CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- Also by Liz Flanagan:
- COPYRIGHT
Ren turned her head, keeping her wingbeats steady. She was amused – he could see it in her golden eyes. Prrt? she said.
He always knew what she meant, even without words. He felt it. He understood it. ‘Yes, you’re right. We won’t go too far. If we’re not back in good time for the festival, Conor and Isak will be furious.’
Isak had taken on Conor as apprentice dragonguard, and they’d both been involved with planning the festival from the start. It was meant to celebrate the island’s recovery from the eruption of Mount Bara and the wave that had smashed into Arcosi afterwards. The other purpose, less discussed but just as clear, was to unite and celebrate all the different people of Arcosi, so no one ever felt as angry and left out as the Brotherhood once had.
Joe arrived in the palace gardens, just a little late, as everyone was getting ready for the opening parade of the festival. Ren would find him soon – she’d gone to snooze in the cavern meanwhile. Joe and Winter had moved permanently 315into the dragonhall underground: Ren and Fidell saw the cavern as their home and they loved having the stream – even if it was cool again now and they were far too big to swim in it these days.
They’d all had to live down there for ten days after the volcano blew last year. Everyone shared food and water, forced to get to know each other more than ever before in such close quarters. Joe had used every part of the shipwreck kit and been grateful to his father for that life-saving gift all over again. There’d been tense moments and a few scuffles, he remembered, but the people of Arcosi had worked together and they’d survived. By the time it was safe to go back into the city again and the ash cloud had cleared, the people of the island were more tightly knit than ever.
Joe wandered through the buzzing crowd of people who were adjusting their costumes, tightening the straps on their stilts, and having their faces painted in bright colours. He called out greetings to people he knew – people of all ages and from every quarter. Today they were celebrating all the rich and varied strands that made up the fabric of island life.
People of Norlander ancestry clustered round a huge paper sculpture of a longship. Children had made boat-shaped hats, with waves painted on their cheeks, to celebrate their origins in the far north and the long journey their ancestors had survived sixty years earlier. Joe recognised a few Norlander men as former members of the Brotherhood. Some had remained on Arcosi: the younger ones, the ones who were willing to change. But Noah was missing. He and his mother had left the island in the confusion after the 316volcano’s eruption. Back in the cave, Noah had avoided even looking at Joe, unable to bear the fact that he owed him his life.