Also in the series:

  TOM AND IRONSKIN

  Coming soon:

  ELLIS AND PATHSEEKER

  MIRA AND FLAMETELLER

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Other Titles

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter 1: The Silver Thief

  Chapter 2: Street Rat

  Chapter 3: The Guild

  Chapter 4: Dragonseer

  Chapter 5: The North Ruins

  Chapter 6: Exploring

  Chapter 7: Trust No One

  Chapter 8: Secrets

  Chapter 9: A Plan

  Chapter 10: The Prisoner

  Chapter 11: Jadeheart

  Chapter 12: Friends

  Chapter 13: Powers

  Chapter 14: Family

  Excerpt from Dragon Storm #3: Ellis and Pathseeker

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2022 by Alastair Chisholm

  Cover art and interior illustrations copyright © 2022 by Eric Deschamps

  Dragon Storm #3: Ellis and Pathseeker excerpt text copyright © 2022 by Alastair Chisholm. Cover and interior illustrations copyright © 2022 by Eric Deschamps.

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Random House

  Children’s Books, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York. Originally published in paperback in slightly different form in the

  United Kingdom by Nosy Crow, Ltd, London, in 2022.

  Random House and the colophon are registered trademarks and A Stepping Stone Book and the colophon are trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.

  Visit us on the Web!

  rhcbooks.com

  Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at RHTeachersLibrarians.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.

  ISBN 9780593479575 (trade) — ISBN 9780593479582 (lib. bdg.) — ebook ISBN 9780593479599

  Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

  Penguin Random House LLC supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin Random House to publish books for every reader.

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  In the land of Draconis,

  there are no dragons.

  Once, there were. Once, humans and dragons were friends and guarded the land. They were wise, and strong, and created the great city of Rivven together.

  But then came the Dragon Storm, and the dragons retreated from the world of humans. To the men and women of Draconis, they became legend and myth.

  And so, these days, in the land of Draconis, there are no dragons….

  Or so people thought.

  In the dead dark of a moonless night, a young girl climbed the palace walls.

  The palace stood on an ancient rock that rose high above the city of Rivven. Its walls were well made, crafted from smooth gray stone with a few handholds. The girl moved confidently, ignoring the drop below her. Finding a crack between two stones, she pulled herself up and placed her feet onto a thin ledge. She reached for the next gap.

  Wait.

  The voice came from inside her head. She didn’t know how or whose voice it was, but she’d heard it her whole life. It was her only friend, and she trusted it. She stopped. Above her, a guard leaned out over the edge of the wall and gazed down, bored. The girl waited, hidden in a gray cloak that perfectly matched the stonework, until the guard wandered away.

  Now, said the voice.

  She kept climbing until she came to a narrow window about halfway up, then squeezed through and into a corridor, landing in a crouch. No one was around. Faint torchlight flickered at one end, and a solid wooden door blocked the other.

  She removed her cloak and tucked it into her backpack. The girl was small and thin with silver-blond hair and a pinched, serious face. The dark colors she wore were mottled like shadows. She crept toward the door and listened for a moment, then slowly lifted the latch and entered.

  Beyond were more corridors, some dark, some lit by torchlight. She moved cautiously. At one point, she stopped and sank into the shadows as a servant scurried past. The floor had rich red carpet now, and torches burned in alcoves.

  On the left, said the voice.

  The girl paused. The patch of wall to her left seemed different, the stonework slightly pale. She felt around the edges until she was sure, then pushed at one stone.

  The wall swung inward, revealing a hidden entrance.

  The girl’s expression didn’t change. She tiptoed into the darkness along a narrow passage, feeling her way until she reached another door, opened it, and entered a room.

  Inside it was bright with lamplight. Every inch shone with precious metal, dark polished wood, and crystal. Beautiful embroideries covered the walls, shimmering with golden thread. In the middle of the room sat a huge four-poster bed.

  This is it, said the voice. King Godfic’s royal quarters!

  The girl stared around, her mouth open.

  Come on. We’d better be quick.

  She nodded and tiptoed across to a grand dressing table in front of an enormous mirror.

  He likes looking at himself, doesn’t he?

  The girl grinned and checked the drawers. One was full of little jars of powder and perfume. One held a display of embroidered lace handkerchiefs. One had papers and wax and the king’s official stamp.

  One was locked. The girl pulled two pins from her hair and carefully used them to feel inside the lock. Then she twisted, and the lock clicked. She slid the drawer open and gasped.

  The inside was lined with dark-red velvet, and its contents glittered. There were gold and silver rings, a heavy gold link necklace, and a chain of pearls. Beautiful, ornate pins were carved into the shapes of animals, inlaid with precious stones. Coins lay scattered at the base. And in the center, on its own stand, sat a large golden brooch with a grand diamond.

  That’s it!

  Carefully, the girl picked up the brooch and examined it. The base was an octagon, with eight ornate golden sides, framing a diamond that shone like a star. There was something in the diamond’s heart—or perhaps it was painted underneath? Peering closer at the diamond, she made out an eye, beautifully drawn, fierce, and somehow cruel. Not a human eye; more like a cat’s, or a wolf’s, or…

  I don’t like that.

  “What?” The girl was surprised. “It’s just a picture.”

  It’s creepy.

  She shrugged and looked back—and the eye moved.

  “Argh!” she yelled, dropping the brooch to the floor. The eye glanced around, then straight at her, and blinked! Suddenly a bell started tolling from the corridor outside, hard and fast and sharp.

  You’ve triggered an alarm!

  “It moved!” she hissed.

  I know! Forget it! Come on!

  There were other noises now, shouts and running footsteps. The girl ran back to the far wall and the secret passage, closing the door behind her just as she heard someone at the main entrance.

  She fumbled through the black corridor, trying to stay quiet. Would they know about the hidden entry? She reached the end of the passage and pushed the door open a crack. The corridor was empty, and she hurried back to where she’d come in, dragging her cloak and a grappling rope from her bag. She poked her head through the slit window, then pulled it back sharply and cursed. There were guards all along the top of the wall now, holding lanterns and searching intently.

  We can’t go that way—they’ll see us!

  The girl felt panic rise inside her. “Maybe—”

  Boots thundered behind her. More guards! She raced toward the brighter end of the corridor, back into the depths of the palace.

  What are we going to do?

  She kept moving, glancing around. There were rooms on either side. Could she sneak into one of them? The alarm bells clanged, and a guard shouted, “You check that way!”

  What are we going to DO, Cara?

  And then a black-gloved hand reached from a doorway, covered her mouth, and dragged her backward. The door closed behind her, and someone grabbed her arms and whispered harshly in her ear.

  “Be quiet.”

  It was a man’s voice, and he was strong, pinning down Cara’s arms. “Don’t move.”

  Cara snorted. She lifted her feet and slammed both heels hard against the side of one kneecap. The man cursed and half collapsed. Cara pulled away from him and reached for the door.

  “Wait!”

  At the last moment she heard boots in the corridor. Guards! She looked back at the man, now clutching his knee in pain. He held a finger to his lips. “Shh!”

  Cara hesitated and waited for the footsteps to fade away.
r />   The man nodded. “It was the tower watch,” he said. “They always come this way. They’re looking for you.”

  He was young, dressed in dark clothes, with curly black hair and a friendly expression. An old, faded scar marked one side of his face. Cara glanced around warily. They were in a small room, simple but clean. A thin bed rested against one wall, and a table and chair were at the other, with several lit candles, an inkwell, long feather pens, and neat piles of paper on the table.

  The man stood, wincing and rubbing his knee. “Good move, by the way. Daisy would be impressed.” He held out a hand. “I’m Malik.”

  Cara didn’t know who Daisy was. She ignored him and turned back to the door.

  “You won’t be able to climb down the wall, you know.”

  She stopped.

  “I saw you climb up,” he said. “Very impressive! But they’re watching now; they’ll see you if you try to get down that way.”

  Cara knew he was right. What was she going to do?

  “I know another way,” he said. “I can get you out.”

  She scowled. “Why would I trust you?”

  Malik shrugged. “I could have shouted for the guards. You’re a street rat, aren’t you?”

  She didn’t answer.

  He nodded. “No parents. Nowhere to live. Surviving on the streets and on your wits. That was me once. I was like you. I admit, I stole an apple when I had to.” Then he laughed. “Nothing like this, though! What on earth were you looking for, sneaking into the palace?”

  Cara said nothing, but he didn’t seem to mind. “These days I do something different,” he said.

  Cara looked again at the quills and paper. “A clerk.”

  “Yes…but something else too. I look for people.” His voice changed. Suddenly he seemed more serious. “Special people. Ones who see things others don’t. A face in the fire, maybe?”

  Cara frowned. What was he talking about?

  We should go, said the voice in her head.

  She nodded and reached for the door handle.

  “Or perhaps hear things?” called Malik.

  Cara stopped and looked back. “What?”

  Malik nodded. “People who hear things others can’t,” he said quietly. “Like a voice, always there, that knows things you don’t. A voice that helps you.”

  How can he know that, Cara?

  Cara shook her head.

  Malik smiled. “As soon as I saw you, I could tell. It’s like a glow, you know?” She said nothing. “Would you like to know what it is?”

  Slowly, Cara released the handle. The corridor outside was empty. She knew she should go, but she wanted to hear what Malik would say next.

  “Would you like to see whose voice it is?” asked Malik.

  What’s he talking about, Cara? What does he mean, “whose voice”?

  Cara chewed her lip. Then she gave a very short nod.

  Malik grinned. “Great! Um…” He picked up one of the lit candles. “Right. I’m not very good at this, but I can show you for a moment. Watch the flame.”

  Warily, Cara watched it, flickering and glowing. It seemed quite normal.

  The man moved his other hand in a complex pattern, muttering.

  I don’t like this, said the voice. He’s trying to trick you!

  But Cara watched the flame, and it stretched, filling the room with warm yellow light. And within it, she realized that she could see something. A face with a soft chin and glowing eyes. It was familiar somehow.

  “There,” whispered Malik.

  Cara glanced up and jumped! There, against the wall, faint as a ghost, stood a creature with long ears, a catlike face, and glowing green eyes. The body was hard to make out because it seemed to shift and change color. Cara stepped back, ready to run! But the face…

  “Is that—” She stopped. “Is that you?”

  “I don’t know,” said the voice. And Cara gasped. It wasn’t in her head anymore—that voice was coming from the creature! It stared down at itself and then back at Cara.

  It held up one claw, pale and ghostly.

  “What is this?” it said, astonished. “What’s going on?”

  “I can’t bring her completely into this world,” said Malik. “You’ll need Drun’s help for that. But this is what she looks like.”

  The creature gazed into Cara’s face. “Cara, I think this is…I think this is me! I think…” It stopped. “Silverthief,” she murmured. “That’s my name. Silverthief. Cara, I think I’m a—”

  And then a fist hammered against the door, and an angry voice shouted, “Open up in there! Open this door in the name of the king!”

  “Open up!”

  Cara gasped and stared at the door. Behind her, Malik blew out the candle. “Sorry, Silverthief,” he muttered. Cara turned back to see the creature’s image fading away like smoke.

  “Cara, what’s happening?” she hissed, and then she was gone—but a moment later Cara heard the familiar voice in her mind.

  Cara! That was me! I think that was me!

  Cara shook her head and tried to focus. How could she escape? The tiny slit window in this room was too small, and there was nowhere to hide.

  Malik walked toward the door. “Coming!”

  “No!” hissed Cara, but he winked and reached for the handle. At the last moment, Cara flattened herself against the wall behind the door as Malik swung it open wide.

  “Captain Hork!” he said, beaming.

  Cara tried not to breathe. She peered through the gap between the door hinge and the wall. She saw a group of soldiers. Among them was a large man with badly fitting bronze armor and a ridiculous plumed helmet. Cara knew Captain Hork. He was captain of the King’s Guard, a bully and a fool. Her heart pounded.

  “What can I do for you?” asked Malik.

  Captain Hork gaped. “Don’t you hear the alarm?” he snarled. “The king’s been robbed! Have you seen anyone acting suspiciously?”

  “Gosh,” said Malik, looking shocked. “How awful! No, sorry. But…someone did just run past my door. Someone big and fierce, it sounded like! He went that way.” He pointed down the corridor.

  “Right,” snapped Hork, adjusting his helmet. “Next time, pay a bit more attention, eh? The king’s life could be at stake!”

  He paused and seemed to think. “Big and fierce, you say?”

  Malik nodded. “Very.”

  “Hmm. Right. Um…lead on, men! I’ll, um, guard the rear.”

  The soldiers ran off with Captain Hork bellowing after them and keeping a safe distance behind.

  Malik waited until Hork’s voice faded and then closed the door. “That should keep them busy,” he chuckled.

  Cara breathed out. She glanced at the corner of the room, but the strange creature had vanished. “Where did she go?” she asked.

  “Back to her world,” said Malik. “Drun can help you bring her back.”

  “Who’s Drun?”

  “A friend of mine. I’d like you to meet him. And some other friends too. People who know what it’s like to be special.”

  He looked serious now. “Would you like to meet them?”

  Cara, I think that really was me! I think…

  Cara hesitated. “All right.” She frowned. “But what was it? That creature?”

  Malik smiled. “I think you’ve already guessed,” he said. “Tell me…what do you know about dragons?”

  * * *

  Malik found an apprentice cloak for Cara and walked her out of the palace as his new assistant, loudly giving her instructions whenever they passed a guard. Dawn was breaking. As they came down from the rock and into the city, a few people were moving around. They were setting up stalls or carting fish ready for the day’s markets.

  “This way,” murmured Malik, steering her down an alley. Cara recognized where they were and felt her skin prickle. This was the Vennels, a dangerous part of town and one she normally stayed clear of. She checked that she still had her knife tucked into one boot.

 

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