and onto the adjoining sidewalk. Marcus looked like a skateboarder, though he didnât hang out with that group: his raven hair was unkempt and bordering on too long, almost reaching the top of the matching thick-rimmed glasses that sat perched on his lightly freckled nose. He had a whole closet full of faded graphic Ts and plaid button-downs, as well as jeans that were probably a bit tight, if only because he hated shopping too much to buy new ones. He also wore his favorite shoes like usual: orange-striped Adidas that were definitely due for replacing.
He was pretty good on the board by now, and he raced down the sidewalk, fixated on the brooding gray clouds that were sweeping across the sky.
Marcus was just about to turn the corner when a green sedan drove by with a familiar face staring out the window: all curling lashes and full lips and dark eyes. Marcus knew he should probably keep his own eyes on the sidewalk, but he met her gaze for just a moment, and as she drove away his skateboard rode up on the grass and abruptly stopped. Unfortunately, Marcus didnât.
He went flying, his arms flailing everywhere, and then he thudded onto the grass. His right cheek smacked against the dirt. As he watched the car drive away, Marcus hoped she hadnât seen that pathetic display. A group of seniors driving by certainly did though, all of them laughing uproariously. Marcus groaned and picked himself up. He knew girls all rightâhe knew they were bad news. For him, anyway.
Marcus was soon on the board again, which was a good thing because the storm was moving impossibly fast. It was already dark out, and a flash of lightning lit up the sky above him. This was going to be a particularly bad one. A haze rolled in, obscuring the Arlington skyline, and Marcus picked up his pace. He was going to get drenched.
He was just turning onto his street when a fork of lightning split the sky, momentarily breaking the haze and illuminating a tumultuous cloudscape. Marcus looked up, bracing for the rain, and then almost toppled off his skateboard again.
There was something in the clouds.
It was there for just a momentâas black as night and sharply angled like a massive bird of prey. It was gone almost immediately, but Marcus thought he saw a blazing red eye at the front, gazing downward. Marcus stared up at the swiftly moving clouds with a mixture of curiosity and alarm. What was that thing?
With a giant clap of thunder, the rain broke in a great, freezing sheet, and Marcus quickly jumped back on his board and started for home. As he rode, he felt an uncomfortable tingle moving up his spine.
Whatever that thing was, it was still watching him.
Chapter 3
A s soon as she was out of the city, Dree felt her foul mood lighten. She couldnât stand to look at any more wealthy, young Draconians with their heads shaved into Mohawks or archaic symbols, dragon fangs dangling from their necks. It was almost as bad as staring at the thriving food stands knowing she couldnât afford to buy anything. Everywhere she looked, she saw her parentsâ disappointed faces or her younger siblings starving in the alleys. She saw failure.
But here in the rolling green hills outside of Dracone, she felt alive. There were worn cobblestone roads leading to the many smaller towns and farms that surrounded the city, but Dree quickly left those behind and cut straight through the tall grass, heading up into the hills and lettingthe scent of fresh pine and mountain snow wash the soot from her nostrils. Multicolored birds flitted past her, along with little yellow butterflies that rested on the tips of grass like daffodils. She smiled as she looked up at the mountain.
Her second home.
Dree climbed higher and higher, until the city was a mottled spot of brown on the plainsâa sickly puddle. The gleaming palace rose from the middle of the city, seemingly untouched by the utter chaos around it. Francis would be there now, probably with a