Before I can even try, Farren mimics the cooing, a yipping, growling back-of-the-throat roar. I echo the sound as we both bend over the quivering egg. Just one crack. All we need is one crack.
To my left, the other egg breaks with a satisfying snap. The next dragon to emerge has that same impressive golden nose, but when a wing flaps open, I still. Patches of goldandsilver cover the rest of their body. An alloy. I’m staring at an actual alloy as they tumble from their egg fragments in a clumsy flop.
Farren and I seem to understand at the same time. If there is an alloy, that means these hatchlings aren’t purebred. The father must be a silver Rimback, Sprinter, or some other breed. Which makes sense. Even one live gold Rimback is a miracle. For there to have been two and they happen to find one another and reproduce? Unlikely.
However, this is why dragons mate with dragons of their same metal, so their babies have a fighting chance. Many alloys fail to hatch, to break through their shells, since they could have a different metal than their mother. In the wild, it’s a death sentence, but under a crafter’s guidance, it’s possible.
“The baby can’t break the outer shell,” Farren says.
The egg convulses again.
Even as she announces the issue, the real problem emerges. “The only way to help is cracking the egg ourselves. But I…” Dread thuds in my stomach. “No one can craft gold.”
Farren looks at me, really looks at me with a fierceness in her eyes I’ve never seen before. She refocuses on the egg. With the Feyling lights, a golden hue splashes against her face. Determination has set into each of her features.
The truth settles into place. Stopping Bex as if it were easy. Nity trusting me to access her nest only after Farren hugged me. It all points to one truth I had not yet considered but feels inevitable. “No one can craft gold. No one except you,” I whisper.
She jerks at the statement, a wash of surprise. As she pushes her glasses up her nose, she sighs. “Finally figured it out, did you?”
CHAPTER SIXTEENWHEN YOU NEED YOUR RIVAL TO HELP CRACK AN EGG
FARREN
Ideclared my crafting ability with confidence, and if this was a piece of metal I was simply twisting under my power, I’d own that confidence. But a living creature’s fate is at stake. Crafting is all about maintaining the correct pressure. Right now, the pressure weighs me down.
“So, you could do this,” James says, a thick layer of astonishment blanketing his voice.
“Yes, in theory, I can do this.”
He catches my hesitancy. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m, umm, trying not to panic over the fact if I mess this up, I’m killing the last line of an endangered species.”
James sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Yeah,” is all he adds.
I glance at him. “That’s very helpful.”
“Sorry, but you’re right. Though you’ve probably done this before. This time it’s just crafting gold instead of some other metal.”
I falter. “I haven’t actually.”
“What?”
“I’ve performed various surgeries. But clients have their own people forthe hatching process.” The Murphys for instance, wouldn’t let us near an egg or hatchling unless the baby wasn’t breathing, and even then, doubtful. Besides, the most important egg-crafting involves silver or bronze eggs, and us Walshes pretend we are copper-crafters.
“Okay. Well, I have. Hort had a similar problem, his egg tooth wasn’t sharp enough. And I was there, helped craft his egg open.”
“You did?” For once, I don’t mind showing my vulnerability. After tonight, James Murphy knows more about me than anyone. He can also know I’m an anxious mess. Later, I’ll swear him to secrecy. For now, all my worry centers on this egg, this baby. “So, I just… crack it open?”
“Yes. Carefully.”
“Oh, good. Glad you specified. I was about to smash with all my might.” Power surges eagerly and my joke feels more real than I can begin to explain.
He shifts so his hands hover over mine.
There’s a question on his lips I don’t wait for him to ask. “You can touch me.”
The warmth of his palms meets my knuckles. “Balance the pressure. Move in a circular motion if that helps.” He guides my hands like we are trying to warm up the egg. “It’s a thinner layer than you think. You won’t need much.”
