Moon Rising Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Tui T. Sutherland
history, adventure stories, ancient legends, encyclopedias of all the plants and animals in each tribe’s territory.
Suddenly she remembered Starflight finding her with a scroll one day. He’d quizzed her on what she liked to read. If he chose these for me … he must have really been listening.
She noticed that there weren’t any of the recent scrolls about the dragonets of the prophecy and their “Epic Quest to End the War of SandWing Succession.” She guessed with a smile that whoever had selected these (Starflight? Sunny? Glory?) found those particular scrolls rather embarrassing.
She also found one early-reader scroll that must have been written for tiny dragonets, with giant letters and a guide to the alphabet. This seemed so out of place that she sat and puzzled over it for a minute.
Is this for one of my clawmates? Am I going to be living with a one-year-old? Her mother had mentioned that the academy would take dragonets of various ages, so maybe it was possible, although it seemed weird.
Out of nowhere, Moon felt a sudden burst of angry energy like a spear driving through her skull. She crumpled forward, clutching her head, as shouts and roars echoed in the hall.
“Get your fish-smelling tail away from me —” I’ve faced bigger SeaWings than him in battle if he’s trying to start something!
“Don’t you dare blow smoke in my face —” She could be one of the SkyWings who destroyed our Summer Palace!
“Ow,” Moon whispered. “Ow. Ow. Ow.” The headache was so blistering, she considered running into the rock wall to knock herself out.
And then, very softly, under all the yelling, she heard … Aha. There you are.
Moon’s head snapped up, and she winced as another bolt of pain crackled through it. This voice — it was unlike anything she’d ever heard before. It sounded crisp and clear and right in her ear, as if it was talking to her.
I am talking to you.
Instinctive fear whipped through Moon’s veins, paralyzing her. All of her mother’s nightmare scenarios started playing again in her head: Don’t trust anyone new, don’t trust anything unusual, don’t let anyone know what you can do, stay secret, stay hidden, stay safe.
Three moons, said the voice. Aren’t you a jumpy one.
“Who are you?” Moon whispered.
Who are you? it answered back, and then, as if the speaker had plucked the answer from her thoughts, Hello, Moonwatcher.
Another telepath — how was that possible? Moon tried to push back. She imagined reaching out with her talons, trying to grab on to the voice and open up what was happening in the mind behind it.
It’s as if you’ve had no training at all. The voice chuckled. How old are you? Again, the pause, and this time Moon thought furiously of as many different numbers as she could: 95! 76! 12!
Four already and that’s all you can do?
“Who are you?” Moon demanded. “How are you doing that?”
You really have no idea, the voice mused with a hint of puzzlement. Hmmm. Fascinating. Let me think about that.
She listened, pressing her temples to hold the headache at bay, but the voice didn’t come back.
“Are you still there?” she whispered.
No response.
Did I imagine it? Maybe I imagined it. Maybe the headache and all the noise out there just confused me. Or maybe mind reading is finally driving me crazy. She shook her head and blinked. But if it was a real mind reader, maybe they could teach me how to use my powers.
Or expose me to everyone, now that they know who I am, while I have no idea who they are.
Moon drew her wings around her with an anxious shiver.
“Hey now, hey there. Stop, stop, stop,” a real voice called in the hallway, interrupting the squabble.
Clay! clamored several voices at once in Moon’s head. It’s him, it’s really him! Oooo, he’s even cuter in real life. Oooo, look at his heroic limp. Oooo, I think he looked at me!
Moon poked her head out of her cave and saw the large sloping back of the prophecy MudWing. Clay
Suddenly she remembered Starflight finding her with a scroll one day. He’d quizzed her on what she liked to read. If he chose these for me … he must have really been listening.
She noticed that there weren’t any of the recent scrolls about the dragonets of the prophecy and their “Epic Quest to End the War of SandWing Succession.” She guessed with a smile that whoever had selected these (Starflight? Sunny? Glory?) found those particular scrolls rather embarrassing.
She also found one early-reader scroll that must have been written for tiny dragonets, with giant letters and a guide to the alphabet. This seemed so out of place that she sat and puzzled over it for a minute.
Is this for one of my clawmates? Am I going to be living with a one-year-old? Her mother had mentioned that the academy would take dragonets of various ages, so maybe it was possible, although it seemed weird.
Out of nowhere, Moon felt a sudden burst of angry energy like a spear driving through her skull. She crumpled forward, clutching her head, as shouts and roars echoed in the hall.
“Get your fish-smelling tail away from me —” I’ve faced bigger SeaWings than him in battle if he’s trying to start something!
“Don’t you dare blow smoke in my face —” She could be one of the SkyWings who destroyed our Summer Palace!
“Ow,” Moon whispered. “Ow. Ow. Ow.” The headache was so blistering, she considered running into the rock wall to knock herself out.
And then, very softly, under all the yelling, she heard … Aha. There you are.
Moon’s head snapped up, and she winced as another bolt of pain crackled through it. This voice — it was unlike anything she’d ever heard before. It sounded crisp and clear and right in her ear, as if it was talking to her.
I am talking to you.
Instinctive fear whipped through Moon’s veins, paralyzing her. All of her mother’s nightmare scenarios started playing again in her head: Don’t trust anyone new, don’t trust anything unusual, don’t let anyone know what you can do, stay secret, stay hidden, stay safe.
Three moons, said the voice. Aren’t you a jumpy one.
“Who are you?” Moon whispered.
Who are you? it answered back, and then, as if the speaker had plucked the answer from her thoughts, Hello, Moonwatcher.
Another telepath — how was that possible? Moon tried to push back. She imagined reaching out with her talons, trying to grab on to the voice and open up what was happening in the mind behind it.
It’s as if you’ve had no training at all. The voice chuckled. How old are you? Again, the pause, and this time Moon thought furiously of as many different numbers as she could: 95! 76! 12!
Four already and that’s all you can do?
“Who are you?” Moon demanded. “How are you doing that?”
You really have no idea, the voice mused with a hint of puzzlement. Hmmm. Fascinating. Let me think about that.
She listened, pressing her temples to hold the headache at bay, but the voice didn’t come back.
“Are you still there?” she whispered.
No response.
Did I imagine it? Maybe I imagined it. Maybe the headache and all the noise out there just confused me. Or maybe mind reading is finally driving me crazy. She shook her head and blinked. But if it was a real mind reader, maybe they could teach me how to use my powers.
Or expose me to everyone, now that they know who I am, while I have no idea who they are.
Moon drew her wings around her with an anxious shiver.
“Hey now, hey there. Stop, stop, stop,” a real voice called in the hallway, interrupting the squabble.
Clay! clamored several voices at once in Moon’s head. It’s him, it’s really him! Oooo, he’s even cuter in real life. Oooo, look at his heroic limp. Oooo, I think he looked at me!
Moon poked her head out of her cave and saw the large sloping back of the prophecy MudWing. Clay
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