divided. Not to mention, finding an entranceway into the Palace below ground would be invaluable. And I am told the map shows one.”
I wanted to hear more, but a Kubikula girl put my finger in her mouth. I screamed, and suddenly more Kubikula children began pouring into the room, attracted by the noise.
“Let’s get you out of here before they decide to make a meal of you,” he said, perhaps only half joking. We left quickly, a cluster of Kubikula children trailing us into the adjoining sewers, until they were called back by their elders.
We made it away safely, but on our way back to the Blackhearts’ lair, I noticed that we were being followed by Sytia. She was running. We stopped and let her catch up with us. She was very excited, carrying a pouch in her hands. We paused to see what she had brought. From the opening she pulled a tiny beast. I could see that it was a dragonka pup. But it had a bizarre coloration, likesomebody had dipped it in a murky gold mud. Also, more shockingly, it had long sharp fangs and red eyes, and its forearms appeared stunted and unusable. Stranger still, its wings appeared to be made of metal, and were sutured to its body. It was a terrifying and bizarre-looking beast: half machine, half dragonka.
“Where did you get this?” Deklyn asked the child. She pointed to the dark tunnel. The dragonka had come to her as trash! Deklyn shook his head. “This isn’t the first mutation we have seen. Somebody is doing experiments on the dragonka. It looks like they are fashioning them into something bizarre and vicious. They must be discarding their misfires.” He handed the mutant beast back to the Kubikula girl.
By the time we arrived back at the Blackheart lair, the others had fallen asleep, and I had to lift my exhausted dragonka from Abel’s protective clutch. Deklyn guided me to the entrance of the sewer, where a ladder led me back to the fountain.
Chapter 10
I thought I would be hearing from the Blackhearts soon after that day, but it was actually quite some time before they contacted me again. My absences from home were growing longer and more conspicuous, and now that Luma was training for competitions, he had become more and more rambunctious, flying around my room, scampering from my grasp when I just wanted to pet him out of loneliness. I knew I could not keep Luma a secret from my mother any longer.
As it turned out I didn’t have to.
One morning I awoke, and Luma was simply not there. The open cage, and bedroom door—which stood ajar—told the story. Downstairs I could hear mother moving about in the kitchen. I crept quietly down the stairs and peered in the door. What I saw amazed me: mother was holding her palm out and feeding pomegranate seeds to Luma, who was sitting up on his hind legs on the butcher’s block. It was the first time in so long that my mother’s interest was stirred. She was even laughing a little when the dragonka stuck his tongue out to take the red seeds from her hand. I stood unnoticed at the door, and suddenly felt like I was lookingin on a scene from my mother’s past, from when before I had been born. My mother even appeared years younger, with a smile spreading across her face, her beauty enthralling even in her nightgown and with hair uncombed. I knew I should not be spying like this, on something that was my mother’s private happiness. It was a lonely feeling, but one that also made me brighten inside.
I had been selfish, I realized. I wanted to rush into the kitchen and tell mother that—to confess something, though I was not sure what; no to confess that I had snuck out my window, because I knew that I would continue to commit such misdeeds, but to confess that I was Petra K, that I had always been Petra K and always would be, and I was at once sorry and very proud of that fact. For once it looked like mother would understand. For only a moment I had forgotten completely about the dragonka.
But when I entered in the kitchen, I
I wanted to hear more, but a Kubikula girl put my finger in her mouth. I screamed, and suddenly more Kubikula children began pouring into the room, attracted by the noise.
“Let’s get you out of here before they decide to make a meal of you,” he said, perhaps only half joking. We left quickly, a cluster of Kubikula children trailing us into the adjoining sewers, until they were called back by their elders.
We made it away safely, but on our way back to the Blackhearts’ lair, I noticed that we were being followed by Sytia. She was running. We stopped and let her catch up with us. She was very excited, carrying a pouch in her hands. We paused to see what she had brought. From the opening she pulled a tiny beast. I could see that it was a dragonka pup. But it had a bizarre coloration, likesomebody had dipped it in a murky gold mud. Also, more shockingly, it had long sharp fangs and red eyes, and its forearms appeared stunted and unusable. Stranger still, its wings appeared to be made of metal, and were sutured to its body. It was a terrifying and bizarre-looking beast: half machine, half dragonka.
“Where did you get this?” Deklyn asked the child. She pointed to the dark tunnel. The dragonka had come to her as trash! Deklyn shook his head. “This isn’t the first mutation we have seen. Somebody is doing experiments on the dragonka. It looks like they are fashioning them into something bizarre and vicious. They must be discarding their misfires.” He handed the mutant beast back to the Kubikula girl.
By the time we arrived back at the Blackheart lair, the others had fallen asleep, and I had to lift my exhausted dragonka from Abel’s protective clutch. Deklyn guided me to the entrance of the sewer, where a ladder led me back to the fountain.
Chapter 10
I thought I would be hearing from the Blackhearts soon after that day, but it was actually quite some time before they contacted me again. My absences from home were growing longer and more conspicuous, and now that Luma was training for competitions, he had become more and more rambunctious, flying around my room, scampering from my grasp when I just wanted to pet him out of loneliness. I knew I could not keep Luma a secret from my mother any longer.
As it turned out I didn’t have to.
One morning I awoke, and Luma was simply not there. The open cage, and bedroom door—which stood ajar—told the story. Downstairs I could hear mother moving about in the kitchen. I crept quietly down the stairs and peered in the door. What I saw amazed me: mother was holding her palm out and feeding pomegranate seeds to Luma, who was sitting up on his hind legs on the butcher’s block. It was the first time in so long that my mother’s interest was stirred. She was even laughing a little when the dragonka stuck his tongue out to take the red seeds from her hand. I stood unnoticed at the door, and suddenly felt like I was lookingin on a scene from my mother’s past, from when before I had been born. My mother even appeared years younger, with a smile spreading across her face, her beauty enthralling even in her nightgown and with hair uncombed. I knew I should not be spying like this, on something that was my mother’s private happiness. It was a lonely feeling, but one that also made me brighten inside.
I had been selfish, I realized. I wanted to rush into the kitchen and tell mother that—to confess something, though I was not sure what; no to confess that I had snuck out my window, because I knew that I would continue to commit such misdeeds, but to confess that I was Petra K, that I had always been Petra K and always would be, and I was at once sorry and very proud of that fact. For once it looked like mother would understand. For only a moment I had forgotten completely about the dragonka.
But when I entered in the kitchen, I
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