Read Hatch (The Dragons Of Laton) for Free Online Page A

of the wood. A piece of bark broke off and landed in front of the dragon. Cautiously, it sniffed the bark curiously before dragging it closer with a clawed foot and playfully shredded it with its teeth.
Ammon grinned. “I suppose I should at least give you a name if we’re going to be traveling together.”
The dragon, satisfied the bark was thoroughly chewed was again silently watching him. Ammon picked up a strip of bark and tossed it, laughing as the dragon leapt several feet to snatch it in mid air. The golden scales flashed brightly in the sun and Ammon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He suspected the dragon was male, although he wasn’t sure why.
“How about Fulgid? That would certainly fit you.”
The only answer he got was the crunching of bark.
“That settles it. Fulgid it is.”
Ammon whittled away at the sapling, making the thickness equal the entire length. It would work nicely as a walking staff as well as a spear for fishing if he found a stream or pond. He was nearly finished when the little dragon suddenly stood up on his hind legs, ears pointing forward and eyes focused intently on something in the treetops. Ammon turned, expecting to see a bird or a squirrel, but what he saw instead made his blood run cold. Between the trees a patch of blue sky opened towards the east, and there he could see the distant shape of a dragon perhaps a mile away. It flew in a sweeping pattern, first north, then south. Ammon swallowed hard, they were searching for someone or something, and it had to be him.
Before he could stand up, Fulgid scrambled onto his back. Ammon looked over his shoulder and saw the claws gripping his leather shirt tightly as the dragon settled himself into place. Jumping to his feet, he kicked the shavings under a rock, then stamped on the remaining glowing coals, scattering the ashes. Then he grabbed the sack and quickly slipped it over his back and scrambled over the rocks to where he’d cut down the sapling. He dragged the discarded branches under a large cedar that had boughs reaching almost to the ground. He unrolled the gray oilcloth and lay down on his side and covered up. The small cloth wasn’t big enough to cover all of him, so he curled into a ball and pulled the cut branches over him. Luckily the cloth was almost the same color as the surrounding rocks, and if he hadn’t already cut the branches he doubted he would have had time to camouflage himself before the dragon flew over.
He lay there for several minutes not daring to breathe for fear of being heard. He stayed motionless and silently cursed himself for not watching longer to estimate how long before the dragon flew overhead. He could see the ground just beyond the cedar boughs, but not up. Impatiently he waited a few more minutes, then slowly reached for the corner of the cloth to push it back. A shadow suddenly passed overhead and he heard the beat of huge wings as it flew directly above him. Fulgid gripped hard on his shoulder, but neither one moved. A minute went by, then another, then the sound of beating wings passed again, but not as close. Half an hour passed before he would again dare to look out from under the cloth.
Once he was sure it was safe, he emerged, drank as much as he could from the spring, and started making his way north as fast as he could. Pushing his way through the thick brush with the oilcloth draped over his shoulders in case he needed it, his eyes moved constantly between the sky and the ground for a place nearby to hide. By the time the sun had reached its climax, they had traveled several more miles into the increasingly harsh terrain. Several times he had to stop and backtrack because of a steep ravine too difficult to cross. Twice he came across small streams that offered a cool drink of water and a brief relief from the heat. Fulgid came off his back only once for a sip of water and immediately climbed back beneath the sack again.
Ammon was actually glad the dragon decided to ride on his back.