‘Let’s see what’s inside?’ He reached out and it flipped open with a satisfying click. With both hands, he eased up the carved lid. It yawned open on its hinges to reveal a pile of coins, glittering darkly.

Here was the hidden treasure he’d dreamed of!

Joe laughed out loud and thrust his hands deep into the pile of coins. ‘Gold! Winter, I think it’s gold!’ Here were riches enough to pave any new path he might dream of! Futures opened up in his mind, shimmering with possibility.

Winter blurted in astonishment. ‘B-b-but that’s a fortune!’

Joe picked up one of the coins. The face carved on one 86side was not one he’d seen before. He made out the name Forlano in old-fashioned runic lettering. It must be one of the old kings of Arcosi, but he’d never heard this name. It must be ancient!

‘Let’s just take a couple of coins for now,’ he checked. ‘Enough to live on? We can come back for more.’

She nodded.

He took three gold coins from the top of the pile and slipped them into his pocket where they clinked against each other as he moved.

Winter did the same.

Joe looked at the other box, feeling pulled towards it, like his compass needle seeking north. ‘Shall we?’ he whispered.

‘Yes!’ Winter said, eyes wide.

Joe moved crabwise and stood in front of the second box. He put his hands on it, feeling the softness of the polished wood. The other clasp was thicker and more ornate. The polished carvings on the box were different too: moon, sun, crashing waves and something that looked like flames. He took a deep breath, then slowly undid the catch and eased the lid open.

At first he could see only darkness within.

Then he saw the eggs.

Winter picked up her lantern. Her hand shook, causing the light to flicker.

Two scaly eggs lay nestled against folds of dark blue velvet, glowing slightly in the near darkness. One had a pattern of purple spots; the other was green, with stripes like a brindled hunting hound. 87

For a moment, Joe could barely breathe. He blinked and checked again. It was real. Two eggs lay shimmering in the gloom.

His eyes jumped straight to the purple spotted one. It was a deep dark violet. This was the purple from his dreams. He leaned forwards and ran his hand lightly over its ridges. Something sparked against his fingers, and he gasped.

‘What?’ Winter asked. ‘Did it hurt?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said, pulling back and studying his hand. ‘It felt like … like pins and needles.’ He reached out again gingerly, but this time nothing happened.

Winter joined him, staring down at the green striped egg with wonder and longing.

Two of them. Two eggs.

For a heartbeat, Joe dared to dream of a future where this purple egg hatched and whatever was inside it belonged to him. They weren’t dragon eggs, though: they were too small, and ridged all over, not smooth.