The Ever Storms

ONE

Barclay Thorne groaned and covered his ears, trying to muffle the ferocious rumbles of the dragon’s stomach—the dragon he was now riding.

This was Barclay’s first time traveling by carrier dragon, and for the most part, he liked it. The passenger caravan strapped to the Beast’s back was comfy and spacious, with wide windows perfect for admiring the breathtaking views. And the speedy flight had shortened an otherwise thirty-week journey on foot to a mere four days.

What he didn’t like was all the noise. The wind whizzed shrilly in his ears. The pilot hollered directions from his saddle, no matter the time of day or night. And the carrier dragon, named Justine, was clearly suffering from a bad case of indigestion.

Are we there yet? Barclay grumbled.

For the fifth time, no, answered his closest friend, Viola Dumont, who sat cross-legged on the window bench beside him. We’ll land at sundown.

As she spoke, Mitzi—Viola’s own dragon—reached a silver wing over Viola’s shoulder and clawed at one of the hundreds of gold pins on her tunic. Viola yelped and shot Mitzi a dirty look.

Mitzi used to be sneakier—and a lot smaller. Only a baby whelp when Barclay had first met her, Mitzi had since grown to the size of a sheepdog. Two nubby horns had sprouted between her ears, and the feathers on her tail now climbed up her back and wings. But despite how much she’d changed, Mitzi still loved nothing more than all things shiny.

Mitzi, we talked about this, Viola scolded her. You need to be better behaved.

Mitzi paid her no mind. She jabbed a talon at a glimmering button on Viola’s sleeve.

Both Justine and Mitzi were Beasts, which were animals with magical powers called Lore. Beasts came in many shapes and sizes, from tiny, harmless creatures to gigantic, terrifying monsters, and they dwelled in six regions of the world known as the Wilderlands. The people who lived there with them, like Barclay and Viola, were called Lore Keepers, and they bonded with Beasts in order to share their magic.

You should try to relax, Viola told Barclay, ignoring Mitzi’s pokes and prods. Haven’t you read that book twice already?

Barclay peeled his attention away from Beastly Biographies of Brilliant Keepers, which Viola had gifted him for his thirteenth birthday earlier that Summer. But what if I missed something? There are going to be apprentices from all across the Wilderlands at the Symposium, but I didn’t grow up in the Wilderlands like everyone else. I don’t want to fall behind.

The Symposium was a set of courses that all apprentices of the Lore Keeper Guild were required to pass before they could sit for their licensing exam. It took place every year at the University of Al Faradh, the most famous school in all the Wilderlands.

Being an apprentice himself, Barclay had always known that he’d have to attend the Symposium, but he’d assumed that would be years and years away. Until four days ago, when their teacher, Runa Rasgar, had abruptly announced their travels to the Desert for the Symposium. And four days was definitely not enough time to prepare.

Viola shook her head. You’ve been a Lore Keeper for a year and a half now, and you know as much about Beasts as Tadg and I do. You have nothing to worry about.

Tadg Murdock was their fellow apprentice, a hotheaded boy who always found something to be grumpy about. After complaining all afternoon about how boring and long their flight was, he’d fallen asleep on the cushions in the caravan’s corner. His wavy light brown hair was matted from his pillow, and one of his Beasts, Toadles, had nestled himself into the crook of his arm.

Barclay hoped that Viola was right. Even if he ended up being the only student from the Elsewheres, which were the regions of the world without magical Beasts, he no longer felt like the scared mushroom farmer who’d accidentally wandered into the Woods. He’d faced not one but two Legendary Beasts. And after more than a year spent training at the Sea, he was smarter, stronger, and faster than he’d ever been.

Gurrrrrrrrrg. The floor tremored with Justine’s latest stomach cramp.

The sound made Root wake with a start. Root was Barclay’s Lufthund, a wolflike Beast with powerful wind Lore. Side by side, the pair of them looked similarly wild. Root had shaggy fur, hooked claws, and sharp teeth. He was all black except for the white bones that jutted out from the base of his spine. Meanwhile, Barclay had long, tangled dark hair to match, pale skin, and fingernails far too often caked with dirt.

Unlike Barclay, who was still as short as ever, Root had grown far bigger this past year. When he padded up to Barclay, he had to bend down to nudge his Keeper’s head.

I know, Barclay told him, scratching him beneath the chin. I’m tired of being cooped up too. But we’ll land soon.

Root huffed impatiently. Then he sat down and rested his head on Barclay’s knees.

Barclay turned back to Viola. Maybe you’re right and I’ve been studying too much. But how come you’re not? That wasn’t like Viola, who didn’t deem a book finished until she’d read it three times over.

Viola shrugged. Oh, I’ve been studying for the Symposium since I was seven, so I’ve spent the trip doing more important things. Like mapping out my to-do list for when I get home.

Mitzi and Root weren’t the only ones to have grown this past year. When Viola stood to fetch her satchel, she towered over Barclay. She might’ve always been tall, but lately she seemed to stretch another inch every season, and her two hair buns of tight brown curls only added to her height. She was even taller than Runa now.

Viola sat down and flipped through the pages of her leather-bound notebook.

Your mom lives in the Desert, right? Barclay asked. How long has it been since you last saw her?

Almost two years, since I first became an apprentice. Barclay was no expert on families, as his parents had died when he was small, but two years seemed like a long time to be apart. Which is why the first thing I’m going to do when I get home is eat as much of my mom’s cooking as possible.

Barclay agreed this task was very important. The food at the Sea left a lot to be desired.

Second, Viola continued, I’m going to meet Gamila Asfour. She’s the new High Keeper of the Desert, now that Idir Ziani retired. I’ve heard she’s very impressive, and I need her to like me if I’m going to be Grand Keeper one day.

Whereas High Keepers governed each Wilderland, the Grand Keeper was the leader of the Guild and the entire Lore Keeper world. Though the job was elected, not inherited, the Dumonts had been the Grand Keepers for three generations. And Viola was determined to follow in her family’s footsteps. Barclay had no doubt she’d succeed. She’d already traveled to five of the six Wilderlands. She was an expert on languages. And she spent all her free time studying and preparing for a job that was years away.

Last, I’m going to bond with a second Beast, Viola finished.

Barclay smirked. Will Mitzi like that?

Mitzi now creeped across the floor toward Toadles, her best friend—or, as Tadg referred to him, her partner in crime.

Mitzi and I have had a lot of long talks, Viola replied. And we agree that I’m more than ready for a second Beast.

Meanwhile, Mitzi tapped Toadles on the gemstone in the center of his forehead. The tiny Beast’s bulging eyes flew open with surprise, and purple goo squirted out of his webbed hands. Tadg jolted awake, seething. Toadles’s poison Lore had made his fair skin swell violet with an itchy rash.

You’re supposed to stay in your Mark! Tadg snapped at Toadles, who only stared at him blankly.

Suddenly, the caravan lurched as Justine swooped to the right. Root howled. Viola collided with Barclay. And Mitzi frantically stretched out her long wings to take flight, smacking Tadg in the face.

Whoa, girl! Steady! the pilot hollered, tugging on Justine’s reins.

In the span of a blink, Runa rose from her sleeping roll in the corner and darted toward the pilot’s side. What’s going on? she asked, her voice calm even as Justine plunged into a steep dive.

Runa Rasgar was never afraid of anything, because no matter where she was, she was always the scariest thing in the room. Her chain mail clothes looked fit for a warrior, and a jagged scar cleaved down the pale skin on the right side of her face. Her famous reputation as a Guardian and a Dooling champion had earned her the nickname the Fang of Dusk.

I… Look! Over there! The pilot pointed southward, and Barclay and Viola twisted around to peer out the windows.

In the distance, a dark, menacing pillar stretched up from ground to sky. It was as wide as a city or even a mountain, as though a vast hole had been torn through the world. It took Barclay several seconds to realize that the pillar was moving. Its surface swirled and billowed like plumes of smoke.

What is that? Barclay rasped. Beside him, Root sprang up to take in the sight as well, and he let out a low, threatening growl.

It’s a sandstorm, Runa answered gravely.

But it’s so small, said Viola, which made Barclay gape. The storm might’ve taken up only a sliver of the otherwise blue and sunny sky, but it still felt ridiculous to describe something so frightening as small. If it was a sandstorm, it would be—

I don’t think it’s a normal one. Can you take us closer? Runa asked the pilot.

C-closer? the pilot sputtered. That’s much too dangerous. You see how Justine reacts.

We don’t need to fly close enough to put us in harm’s way. I just want to get a better look.

The pilot muttered something under his breath, then tapped his foot against Justine’s long neck, steering her to the right. The caravan tilted, forcing Barclay and Viola to grasp onto the window frames to keep from falling, and Root’s claws raked across the seat cushions. Along the back wall, a rack of pamphlets advertising SKYBACK CARRIER DRAGONS, the #1 Keeper-recommended draconic flight service toppled down with a crash.

Tadg pried Mitzi off him—she’d been clinging to his face—and stumbled toward Runa. You told us that you didn’t have any work to do in the Desert. You said that while we were studying, you’d be taking a vacation.

Did I? Runa said innocently, with a not-so-innocent twinkle in her icy blue gaze.

Runa was a Guardian, which was one of the four types of Lore Keepers licensed by the Guild, so it was her job to protect the Wilderlands from dangerous Beasts. Last year, Runa had been summoned to the Sea to investigate a carnivorous algae bloom called the weeping tide, which had been making Lochmordra, the Sea’s Legendary Beast, attack islands and ships. But as it turned out, the seaweed wasn’t to blame. The real culprits were a Lore Keeper named Audrian Keyes and his apprentice, Yasha Robinovich, who were trying to destroy the borders between the Wilderlands and the Elsewheres to let Lore consume the entire world. Even though Barclay and his friends had saved the Sea, Keyes and Yasha had escaped, and no one had seen them since.

"I knew there was a reason you were sticking us in the Symposium, Tadg said smugly. You’ve been sent to investigate something in the Desert, haven’t you?"

High Keeper Asfour might’ve requested my presence, Runa admitted. But the three of you don’t need to concern yourselves with it. You should be focusing on your studies.

No way! We’d rather help you than be stuck in some class. When Runa didn’t respond, Tadg whipped his head toward Barclay and Viola. Well? Don’t you two agree with me?

Barclay was only half paying attention. As they neared the sandstorm, he could make out huge, whirling currents of dust within it, twisting around one another like snakes. It looked as though the Desert was writhing. The sand that soared in the air was so thick that no light could break through from above, creating a deep, deep darkness.

Is that what sandstorms usually look like? Barclay asked Viola.

No, she answered tightly.

Justine let out a fearful cry and lurched a second time, so strongly that Viola shrieked and Tadg was thrown to the floor.

I’m sorry, the pilot told Runa. She won’t take us any closer.

Runa stared at the sandstorm through shrewd, narrowed eyes.

Ma’am? the pilot asked nervously.

That’s fine. Get us back on course to Menneset.

Justine swerved around, and Barclay breathed a sigh of relief. Just looking at the sandstorm had made goose bumps prickle across his skin. He wrapped his arm around Root’s back, and after a few moments, Root relaxed and withdrew his claws from the shredded cushions.

As they soared away, something dark moved in the corner of Barclay’s vision. He turned back to the window, and his heart stuttered to a stop.

One of the columns of sand had bent away from the storm and stretched out toward them, like a massive hand reaching for a candle flame.

No sooner did Barclay scream than the hand closed over them.

And the world snuffed out.

TWO

Sand exploded through the windows, smothering the entire caravan in a thick, prickly haze. Barclay coughed. It felt like he was breathing in pebbles. Even his eyes stung, forcing him to squeeze them shut.

Justine was wrenched backward, as if the storm was yanking her toward it. Barclay tumbled to the floor, and his shoulder slammed into something soft and shaggy, which he realized was Root. The Lufthund yelped, then nuzzled his head into his Keeper’s side to block the harsh sand.

Barclay clung to Root tightly. He had to do something.

He drew himself to his knees, then stretched his arms in either direction and thought, Wind!

Gusts blasted from his palms at the windows, so powerful that any papers and loose trinkets were cast out with the sand and hurled into the sky. Barclay tried to gulp in a deep breath of clean air, but his chest only shuddered with more coughs.

As powerful as his wind Lore might’ve been, it wasn’t enough to rip Justine from the sandstorm’s grasp. The carrier dragon flailed, whipping the caravan this way and that. But it was no use. The storm dragged them backward as though trying to swallow them whole.

Brace yourselves! Runa shouted.

Their already dim surroundings went utterly black.

Then they were falling.

Everyone screamed as they were thrown upward. Barclay slammed into the ceiling, and his Lore abruptly died. Sand barged back into the caravan.

Sparing Root any more terror, Barclay returned him to the golden, tattoolike Mark on his shoulder, where he resided in stasis until Barclay was ready to summon him again. Immediately, it began to sting in warning, and he girded himself for impact—possibly, even, for doom.

A heartbeat before they crashed to the ground, Justine managed to spread her wings against the violent winds. They stopped free-falling with a jerk. Barclay smacked the floor face-first, and pain burst from his nose. He groaned and rolled over, tasting blood on his lips.

Seconds later, Justine clumsily landed, the blow softened by the cushioning dunes. They skidded for several seconds before finally coming to a halt.

At first, Barclay was too scared to move, certain he’d shattered all his bones. But the torrents of sand continued to rage, making it impossible to inhale. And so he had no choice but to raise his arms and muster his Lore again. The wind drove the debris outside, and he gasped for air.

A warm glow appeared. He opened his eyes to find Viola lying beside him, an orb of light shimmering around her hands and illuminating the caravan. She looked as shaken as he felt, with several scrapes torn across her light brown skin.

Her eyes widened as she took him in. "Your face!"

Barclay was too busy using his Lore to find a mirror, but judging from the pain throbbing from his mouth to his forehead, he must’ve looked a mess.

Runa was in front of him in an instant. Her pale blond hair, normally braided, hung wild and loose, and sand was matted in her eyebrows. Your nose is broken, she told him matter-of-factly. I’m going to reset it with my bone Lore. Are you ready?

Barclay was not ready, but Runa didn’t give him a chance to say so. An invisible force yanked his nose back to the center with a loud, agonizing snap! Barclay screamed, and his wind Lore stuttered. But after a few strangled breaths, the pain lessened, and he regained his focus.

Not my best work—it’s still a little crooked. But it’ll have to do. Runa patted Barclay on the shoulder. That was quick thinking up there. Well done. How long do you think you can keep going?

Barclay’s wind Lore was far stronger than it used to be, but he’d never used this much longer than a few minutes at a time. A while, he answered, determined not to prove his words a lie.

Viola woozily stood and gawked at the ruined caravan. What are we going to do now? Her voice was scratchy, as though a prickly pear had gotten lodged in her throat.

Carrier dragons are all equipped with distress beacons, so once we find it, we can send a signal to the closest city to come help us, said Runa. Now, where’s Tadg?

I’m here, came a muffled voice from beneath a heap of carpets. Then Tadg crawled out from under them, like a dung beetle. He collapsed at their feet. I want a better look. Fly a little closer. What could go wrong? he mimicked Runa mockingly. Neither Barclay nor Viola was brave enough to make fun of the Fang of Dusk, but Tadg had known Runa his whole life. Before he died two years ago, Runa had been Tadg’s father’s best friend.

Normal sandstorms don’t just reach out and grab people, Viola said nervously. "What is this?"

I don’t know, Runa responded. This doesn’t seem as bad as what the High Keeper described in her letters.

"Doesn’t seem as bad? Tadg repeated. Should it also be raining fire?"

If there’s been a sandstorm, why wouldn’t Mom have told me in her letters? asked Viola.

I promise to answer your questions later, Runa assured them. For now, let’s just focus on getting out of here. She walked toward the pilot, who was slumped unconscious in the saddle. She shook his shoulder, but he didn’t respond.

Is he dead? Barclay squeaked.

No, but he’s out cold. I’m gonna check on Justine. Tadg, would you search through these compartments for the distress beacon?

With that, Runa slipped out one of the windows into the storm.

Tadg rummaged through the compartments in the walls on either side of the cockpit. Each drawer he thrust out was dusted in a thin layer of sand. Is this the part where we all get eaten by a sand serpent? I heard they swim underneath the dunes.

"Asperhayas, Viola corrected, using their proper name, are really rare. I’m more concerned with whatever Beast is causing this sandstorm."

You think a Beast is doing this? Barclay asked.

Well, it’s not a normal storm, is it? That means there’s some Lore at work.

Found it! Tadg brandished a strange disk that looked like a smooshed beetle. He slid open two of its winglike slats, and the disk began to blink with red light. Can a rescue team really reach us in here?

I don’t know, Viola replied. If they figure out we’re in this storm, they’ll probably send a team of Guardians to fetch us.

How long do you think that’ll take? asked Barclay. He didn’t want to admit it out loud, but his arms were already tiring.

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRLLLLLL!

A thunderous growl boomed in the distance, so loud it drowned out even the roaring of the storm.

The three apprentices froze.

"Are you sure Asperhayas are rare?" Barclay asked anxiously. His fingertips trembled, making his Lore stutter out in spurts.

Behind them, Runa climbed back inside. The good news is that Justine is fine. She’s just frightened, though I don’t think the fall helped her stomachache. The bad news is that the winds are too strong for her to lift off again. Did you find the beacon?

Yeah, but are we just gonna pretend that there isn’t some giant Beast out there? Tadg demanded.

As always, Runa’s tone was cool and measured. I’m also interested to see what made that noise. So come on—let’s move outside. Barclay, Viola, you keep using your Lore. Tadg, you and I will grab the pilot.

Outside? Tadg echoed. "Is this for another closer look?"

Runa shrugged. "If you’d rather not see the possible monster hunting us, then by all means, go back to lying under your carpets."

Tadg had no argument for that. So the four of them—with the pilot limply in tow—shoved open the caravan’s door and staggered outside onto the slope of a soft dune. Barclay had been looking forward to seeing the Desert up close, but it was so dark amid the storm that it might as well have been the dead of night. Even with Viola’s makeshift lantern, the blustering sand obscured everything more than a few feet in front of them. It was also far hotter on the ground than it’d been in the sky, hotter and drier than even the longest Summer days in the Woods or at the Sea.

Gradually, Barclay shifted his Lore. Instead of blowing air in opposite directions, he shaped the wind into a sphere, with all of them protected inside.

The group walked along Justine’s long red neck until they reached her head, which she’d half buried within the sand. Barclay widened his sphere to cover her face as well, and her green eyes gratefully met his own.

Your control is improving, Runa told him, as though this was merely any other lesson and they weren’t stranded in the center of a gigantic, terrifying dust storm.

Thanks, Barclay managed. Beads of sweat dribbled down his temples.

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRLLLLLL!

At that, one of Runa’s two Beasts—Goath—appeared at her side. Goath was a Haddisss, a large snake made only of skeleton. He slithered up his Keeper’s back, and his bones rearranged themselves with eerie clicks until they bracketed Runa’s upper body like armor. His tail stretched out over the top of her right hand into a long, lethal blade.

What kind of Beast do you think it is? Tadg asked, his voice cracking.

It could be a Trickanis, Viola said, and the name alone made a shiver creep down Barclay’s spine. Or a Waramasa. Or an… Asperhaya.

I knew it!

Quiet, Runa snapped, her voice unusually sharp with warning. Their bickering abruptly silenced.

In the distance, a sound rumbled. It reminded Barclay of an earthquake, and he immediately thought of Audrian Keyes, whose stone Lore had been powerful enough to shake the entire Isle of Munsey at the Sea. Barclay didn’t know who he’d prefer to face—a genuine monster or the man who’d nearly destroyed an entire Wilderland to get what he wanted.

Runa must’ve been thinking the same thing, because for the first time, her expression betrayed a hint of fear. She dropped into a fighting stance.

Beside her, sparks of electric Lore sizzled at Tadg’s fingertips.

Is it going to attack— Tadg started, but was cut off when something screeched overhead.

Three figures soared above them, and even from afar, Barclay could tell from the spindly shape of their wings that they were dragons. As they shot downward, the lashing against Barclay’s sphere began to ease. The gales still blew as fast as ever, but the sand froze, floating in midair as though ignoring the wind entirely. Then, all at once, the sand hardened into a dome wide enough to shield them and Justine.

The rescue party had arrived.

Exhausted and relieved, Barclay lowered his arms and let his Lore release.

The three dragons landed in front of them. Dragons came in all sorts of varieties, and these looked far more elegant than Mitzi and not nearly so humongous as Justine. All three had long, slender necks and shimmering scales in brilliant hues of gold, ruby, and violet.

Barclay realized this was no average rescue party.

Dad? Viola asked, just as a man slid down from the golden dragon’s saddle.

Barclay had never met the Grand Keeper before, and he couldn’t imagine anyone with a more commanding presence. As he strode forward, his glossy cape billowed around his boots. He had blond hair and a matching neat beard, and he was so tall