his feet, and Robi stooped to catch it before the wind did.
“Thanks. That’s the needle.” Mik hoped his mother wouldn’t miss it; she’d kill him ice dragon or no.
“We’re here. Now what?”
“What, you don’t remember the rhyme?” He recited:
When winter winds moan,
The ice dragon’s bones
Can be found alongside the river.
The blood of the pure
Shed without fear:
The ice dragon comes to deliver.
The frost spider spins
A white snowy skin
And blood brings the dragon awake.
But impure blood burns,
The dragon shall turn,
The bones of the wicked to break.
Robi joined him as he spoke. “Just from other kids. I guess my parents thought it was too scary.”
Mik nodded, then knelt next to the skeleton. He held his bottle over it, then opened the stopper and shook the bottle. They couldn’t see the spider, but it began to knit: slowly at first, then gaining speed.
“It’s not going to be a very big dragon,” said Robi. “It’s what, four feet nose to tail tip?”
“Better than nothing.” He slipped off his gloves and jabbed with the needle. “Missed.” He tried again, then again. “I keep missing!”
“You keep closing your eyes! Here, let me.” She rubbed a little snow on his fingertip and squeezed his finger, turning it red before poking it with the needle.
“Huh. I barely felt that.” He watched his blood drip onto the dragon. “Seven drops should be enough. It’s lucky, anyway.” He thrust his finger into the snow to make the bleeding stop, then donned his gloves. “Look!”
With a crackling noise, the ice dragon pulled itself free of the river ice and clambered onto the bank, facing the children. Its gaze fixed on Mik as he pushed Robi behind him.
Why have you awakened me? The ice dragon’s voice was chattering teeth, cutting wind, crunching of crusty snow. Robi thought it looked a lot bigger than it really was… or was it growing?
“An enemy has invaded our lands,” said Mik. “Will you make them leave?”
The dragon looked down at them now—it was growing, alright. Make them leave? Why not kill them all?
Mik thought a moment. “No. We just want to be left in peace. You don’t have to kill them if they go away.”
Yet some will die.
“Well…” Mik tried to find the right words. “Our own soldiers would have killed more of them. It’s not right to want them dead, but soldiers die in wars.”
The huge head cocked over. Its eye was a ball of ice, fixing them in its glare. I judge you pure of heart. It shall be as you desire. The dragon leaped over them, making them duck, then glided away, gathering more snow to itself. It seemed to grow as huge as winter itself as it departed, playing tricks with perspective.
“You did it,” Robi whispered. “You’re a hero.”
“I hope it’s enough. Huh. I guess pure didn’t mean virgin after all.”
She laughed and nudged him. “I bet you won’t be a virgin by spring, not if you don’t want to be. All the girls will want you.”
Mik stared into the flying snow. “I doubt it. No one will ever believe I summoned an ice dragon.”
But everyone did.
Excerpt: Heroes and Vallenez, by Angela Kulig
Coming February 2013… a gritty urban fantasy for younger readers, by Angela Kulig, author of Skeleton Lake…
Victor Vallenez might not be a villain, but that doesn’t make him a saint. At age 16, Vic could be a career criminal, but instead he spends his time lurking in corners and telling other peoples' secrets—for a price. As a professional snitch, money is the only thing that talks more than he does. Still, as much as Vic hates to admit it, there are some things even blood money won’t buy—mainly Emily. So, when her chivalrous butthead of a boyfriend shows up and asks for his help, there is one very good reason he won’t turn him down—and that’s his angle.
Read on for an excerpt…
• • •
I always say, a punch to the face is a great way to end the day. Alright, I’ve never actually said it, but I
“Thanks. That’s the needle.” Mik hoped his mother wouldn’t miss it; she’d kill him ice dragon or no.
“We’re here. Now what?”
“What, you don’t remember the rhyme?” He recited:
When winter winds moan,
The ice dragon’s bones
Can be found alongside the river.
The blood of the pure
Shed without fear:
The ice dragon comes to deliver.
The frost spider spins
A white snowy skin
And blood brings the dragon awake.
But impure blood burns,
The dragon shall turn,
The bones of the wicked to break.
Robi joined him as he spoke. “Just from other kids. I guess my parents thought it was too scary.”
Mik nodded, then knelt next to the skeleton. He held his bottle over it, then opened the stopper and shook the bottle. They couldn’t see the spider, but it began to knit: slowly at first, then gaining speed.
“It’s not going to be a very big dragon,” said Robi. “It’s what, four feet nose to tail tip?”
“Better than nothing.” He slipped off his gloves and jabbed with the needle. “Missed.” He tried again, then again. “I keep missing!”
“You keep closing your eyes! Here, let me.” She rubbed a little snow on his fingertip and squeezed his finger, turning it red before poking it with the needle.
“Huh. I barely felt that.” He watched his blood drip onto the dragon. “Seven drops should be enough. It’s lucky, anyway.” He thrust his finger into the snow to make the bleeding stop, then donned his gloves. “Look!”
With a crackling noise, the ice dragon pulled itself free of the river ice and clambered onto the bank, facing the children. Its gaze fixed on Mik as he pushed Robi behind him.
Why have you awakened me? The ice dragon’s voice was chattering teeth, cutting wind, crunching of crusty snow. Robi thought it looked a lot bigger than it really was… or was it growing?
“An enemy has invaded our lands,” said Mik. “Will you make them leave?”
The dragon looked down at them now—it was growing, alright. Make them leave? Why not kill them all?
Mik thought a moment. “No. We just want to be left in peace. You don’t have to kill them if they go away.”
Yet some will die.
“Well…” Mik tried to find the right words. “Our own soldiers would have killed more of them. It’s not right to want them dead, but soldiers die in wars.”
The huge head cocked over. Its eye was a ball of ice, fixing them in its glare. I judge you pure of heart. It shall be as you desire. The dragon leaped over them, making them duck, then glided away, gathering more snow to itself. It seemed to grow as huge as winter itself as it departed, playing tricks with perspective.
“You did it,” Robi whispered. “You’re a hero.”
“I hope it’s enough. Huh. I guess pure didn’t mean virgin after all.”
She laughed and nudged him. “I bet you won’t be a virgin by spring, not if you don’t want to be. All the girls will want you.”
Mik stared into the flying snow. “I doubt it. No one will ever believe I summoned an ice dragon.”
But everyone did.
Excerpt: Heroes and Vallenez, by Angela Kulig
Coming February 2013… a gritty urban fantasy for younger readers, by Angela Kulig, author of Skeleton Lake…
Victor Vallenez might not be a villain, but that doesn’t make him a saint. At age 16, Vic could be a career criminal, but instead he spends his time lurking in corners and telling other peoples' secrets—for a price. As a professional snitch, money is the only thing that talks more than he does. Still, as much as Vic hates to admit it, there are some things even blood money won’t buy—mainly Emily. So, when her chivalrous butthead of a boyfriend shows up and asks for his help, there is one very good reason he won’t turn him down—and that’s his angle.
Read on for an excerpt…
• • •
I always say, a punch to the face is a great way to end the day. Alright, I’ve never actually said it, but I
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