Dragon Scales Read Online Free PDF

rafters. Isaia wasn't by the door. Emboldened, Amantea flew off the rafter and surveyed the room below. Isaia was gone.
    For now, anyway. Amantea landed on the rafter again, trying to stretch out the soreness in his muscles from sleeping on a hard surface all night. Would Isaia return to try and catch him out before he left for the village where Naldo was? He might; he seemed that sort of contrary dragon. Amantea would wait a few minutes, and then go find the things he needed to make a portal to the village. Yawning, he leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes.
    Amantea woke slowly, blinking groggily as he yawned. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was and another few to remember that he had things to do. How long had he slept? He didn't know; the windows still showed bright sunlight, but he didn't remember which direction the sun had risen from, so he didn't know whether it was still morning or if it had gotten as late as afternoon.
    Either way, he had to get going on the portal to Naldo's village. Who knew how close Isaia was at this point. Amantea all but tumbled off the rafters, catching himself and flying down to the floor. There, he shifted into his larger form and tugged his shirt on over his head again.
    The contents of the trunk Isaia had decimated were still strewn across the floor. It was mostly fabric—scarves, like the one he'd worn the previous day—with a few trinkets and some other odds and ends. One of the trinkets caught Amantea's eye: a small, feminine broach, shaped like a flower and set with several softly colored jewels. It was pretty and seemed completely counter to Isaia's tastes. Amantea picked it up, running his thumb across the front of it.
    He tucked it into his pocket to investigate more thoroughly later and then headed for the kitchen area, such as it was. There had to be something he could use to create a portal. Amantea opened a cupboard, wrinkling his nose at the smell of dust and faint decay. There were only a few beat up dishes in this cupboard, and Amantea poked through several more cupboards. Most were empty, a few held dishes, one held a variety of dried meats, and the last held dried herbs.
    Amantea scoffed loudly. What had Isaia thought he'd eat? The jerky? His stomach flipped at the thought of that, and Amantea sighed. Dried herbs might work, but Amantea doubted it. There simply wasn't enough left to them for his magic to grab onto.
    Turning, Amantea surveyed the room. There was a depressing amount of nothing. He almost felt sorry for Isaia, but then quashed that. Isaia had left him trapped here; he deserved to live in a near-empty, sparse, depressing house for forever. Maybe. Except that this wasn't his real home, Amantea recalled, and Amantea scowled at the house as though it were the source of all his problems.
    Amantea headed across the room, his hopes quashed. He wouldn't be able to get out. He'd be stuck here and would never be able to prove to Isaia that he wasn't a hopeless, idiotic flit. Amantea tugged his cap down, making sure his ears were covered—and promptly tripped over something on the floor and went down hard.
    "Ow," Amantea muttered, wincing as he straightened up. Sighing, he took stock. His elbows had taken the brunt of the fall, and they were scraped up and sore. There was some blood welling up, but not a ton. They stung like he'd touched resia toxins. Twisting his head, he scowled at the... handle?
    What was a handle doing in the middle of the floor? Stinging in his elbows forgotten, Amantea scooted over and tugged experimentally at the handle. A hatch in the floor shifted, but it was a heavy door, so it didn't open. Standing to get more leverage, Amantea tried again. He heaved the door open with all his might, letting go as soon as it was vertical. It banged backwards loudly, revealing a small, dark hole in the ground.
    It smelled of vegetation, and Amantea tamped down his rising hope. But a root cellar made sense, and he climbed down the