‘Winter!’ he burst out. ‘I tried to drink from the stream last night, but it’s gone hot, and it tastes weird.’ Grabbing the flask of spring water, he drank deeply.

Then he stumbled back to the stream and dabbled his fingers in the rushing water. Still hot. ‘Come over. Feel this!’

Winter looked at him as if he’d lost his mind entirely, but she picked her way across the rocky floor of the cave and scooped up a little water. She sniffed it and touched the end of her tongue to it, before wrinkling her nose and scattering the drops on the floor. ‘Urgh! What’s wrong with it? It’s never done that before. Not in two years.’

‘It’s coming from underground. It’s hot. And smelly. Do you think it could be …?’ Joe knew it sounded unlikely.

‘What?’ Winter looked wary, half-hidden behind her shining black hair.

‘Something to do with volcanoes?’

‘They have lava, not water,’ she said.

‘Maybe it’s the lava heating the water, down below, and then it bubbles up …’

‘You just want it to be true’ – she spoke quite gently – ‘because we read about shadow dragons and volcanoes yesterday.’

Joe felt slapped down. Even her mild disagreement was 113too much, today. To his horror, he felt his fury rising in response. Not again! He had to defeat his anger. This was supposed to be his new start!

He couldn’t, he mustn’t. Not with Winter. Never with her.

If he couldn’t control it, at least he’d contain it. He ran out of the cavern, blindly stumbling the route he’d memo­rised, till he found himself back at the egg cave.

He walked straight into the rocky platform, banging his shins, but when he opened the casket, a faint glimmering light filled the cave. He picked up his egg, cradling it care­fully, and slid down to lie on the floor, curled around it. There was still this. He might not have anything else, or anyone else, but he had this egg.

It was warm in there again, and without meaning to, he let his eyes close and drifted off to sleep. In his dreams, he held a dragon, not an egg.

When he woke up, Winter was sitting next to him, cradling the green egg. Her black hair fell over her face as she whispered quietly to it.

Joe felt better. His head was clearer. He sat up, being careful not to jolt the purple egg. ‘Winter, I’m sorry,’ he said again.

‘Yeah?’ She made him wait.

‘For acting like a selfish kid. I mean it. I’m really sorry.’

‘S’all right.’ She put one hand on his arm.

‘Thank you.’ He realised it was the first time she’d done something like that. ‘Why are you so kind to me?’ he asked. 114

‘You’ve lost your life, from before,’ she said softly. ‘It’s going to hurt.’

His loss was nothing, compared to hers. He didn’t dare say anything else.

‘And my life has been better since you crashed your way into it.’