Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

M ina peered cautiously into the darkness under the highway overpass, then breathed a sigh of relief. The only other occupants were a swaddled figure high on the ledge under the road and old Larry, cocooned in his cardboard nest. The freezing weather had driven the other transients into shelters or warmer locations.

"Whatcha you doing here, girly?" Larry's pale, rheumy eyes peeked at her over a sheet of cardboard. "You should be at the shelter."

She shuddered. After her last horrific experience, she preferred to take her chances out in the cold.

"You know I like the fresh air," she said as lightly as possible.

Larry didn't look as if he believed her, but if there was anything the homeless people who gathered here were good at, it was minding their own business.

"You got any food?" he asked instead.

Half a sandwich, all that remained of the one a Good Samaritan had handed her earlier that day. She had been saving it for tonight, but looking at Larry's emaciated hand as he clutched his cardboard blanket, she decided he needed it more.

"Here you go."

He grabbed it eagerly, hands shaking, and started stuffing it in his mouth. Even though her own stomach ached with hunger, she smiled at his enthusiasm before she started to clamber up the sloped concrete wall to a hidden corner on the top ledge.

"Here," Larry said thickly as he handed her one of his precious pieces of cardboard.

"I don't want to take that from you."

He ignored her. "Put it under you. It'll help."

Reluctantly, she took it and resumed her climb, settling into the small space where the retaining wall met the bridge supports. The structure helped to block the wind and from here, she could see anyone approach. She placed the piece of cardboard under her and found that Larry was right. The minor insulation helped prevent the cold from the freezing concrete seeping into her bones.

Unfortunately, nothing could completely stop the icy breeze that needled its way in through her layers of clothing. She huddled in her corner, trying to ignore the empty ache in her stomach. How long had it been since she had been warm?

Her life had never been easy—shunted from foster home to foster home—but she had never expected to find herself homeless. When she aged out of foster care, her caseworker had managed to find her a job working in the office of a small trucking company and a room in a halfway house. Everything seemed to be looking up. She enjoyed her job, and she'd made friends with her coworker, a big, cheerful girl named Debbie. When Debbie found out about her living situation, she had insisted on renting her tiny spare room to Mina.

With a regular, if small, paycheck and a safe place to live, Mina had even started some online classes. But it all came crashing down around her when Debbie's boyfriend, the disgusting Keith, tried to force himself on her. Debbie had walked in before he succeeded, but instead of defending Mina, the other girl had placed all the blame for the incident on her. Debbie threw her out of the apartment that same night, but even worse, when Mina arrived at work the next day, she'd been called into Mr. Duncan's office.

An older man with a worn face and kind eyes, Mr. Duncan looked as uncomfortable as she felt when he told her that Debbie had shown him proof that Mina had been stealing from the company. She hadn't even tried to protest. What was the use? Debbie had been there for years, and Mina was just a nameless orphan. She just nodded her head and walked away.

But times were hard and jobs were scarce and word of her alleged theft dogged her search for a new job. A week ago, she'd even been desperate enough to try talking to Debbie again. But Keith opened the door instead, smirking at her bedraggled appearance.

"You don't look so high and mighty now, do you?" His gaze swept disparagingly down her body, but despite the mockery in his words, she saw him lick his lips. He shot a quick glance back over his shoulder, then stepped out into the hallway and pulled the door closed. "I can take care of you, you know. How long has it been since you had a good meal or a pretty dress?"

God forgive her, but she had almost been tempted.

"I…"

He smirked and grabbed her waist, hauling her up against him. Before she could protest, he kissed her, forcing her lips apart and invading her mouth with a thick, red tongue. He tasted of beer and cigarettes, and she could barely breathe. He easily subdued her struggles, and the memory of his previous attempt washed over her. Determined to escape, she bit down on his tongue.

He swore and jerked back, then slapped her hard across the face.

Tears sprang to her eyes as she raised a hand to her throbbing cheekbone.

"Don't waste those pitiful looks on me," he sneered. "You had your chance. Get the hell out of here. And don't come back—unless you're willing to beg."

Keeping a watchful eye on him, she edged to the end of the corridor, then turned and fled.

Even now—cold, hungry, and desperate—she would have made the same decision.

The wind whistled around the pylons, bringing with it the scent of snow, and she shivered and huddled deeper into a corner. Eventually, she fell into a restless sleep, haunted by dreams of hot soup snatched away by Keith's leering face.

The first thing that penetrated her half-awake mind was the absence of noise. The city was always loud—people, traffic, the sound of everything from garbage trucks to fire engines. But now she couldn't hear anything, just the faint whisper of the wind.

She shivered, as cold as she had been when she went to sleep and wrapped her arms around her stomach only to feel the press of skin against skin. Her eyes sprang open.

All of her clothing had disappeared. She could only think of one reason why she might be naked, and panic swept over her. But other than the increasing cold, her body didn't feel damaged. She knew the signs of abuse all too well, but there were no bruises, no lingering aches.

Her clothes weren't the only thing missing. Her small bag of possessions had disappeared as well. Her vision blurred. There was nothing in it of any value—a change of underwear, a few tattered paperbacks, a broken locket that had been an unexpected gift from a long-ago foster parent—but it had been all that she had. Even Larry's tattered piece of cardboard was gone.

Instead, a roughly woven bag, not much larger than a sheet of paper, was lying at her feet. She snatched it up, hoping for some kind of explanation. Inside, she found a small silver square and a sheet of plastic covered with unreadable symbols.

Useless , she thought in despair.

But as she went to shove both of them back inside the bag, her fingers brushed the silver square and it started to unfold—and unfold and unfold. The resulting piece of fabric was taller than she was and as wide as her outstretched fingertips. It was too thin to provide much protection, but it was better than being naked and she wrapped it around herself.

To her surprise, she immediately felt warmer. Despite the thinness of the fabric, it successfully blocked the wind and trapped her meager body heat.

Grateful to be covered, she turned her attention to her surroundings. She was still huddled in a corner, but she was no longer under the corner of the overpass. Rough rocks, rather than concrete, surrounded her, forming a shallow cave with an opening to her left.

Where was she?

She'd heard the rumors—they all had—of wealthy people who played cruel games with the homeless, but she'd never heard of anything like this.

Determined to find out what was going on, she tried to find some way to keep herself covered without having to clutch the blanket with both hands. She attempted to tear armholes in the fabric, but as thin as it looked, it resisted her efforts, even when she tried to use a sharp rock to cut the holes. Finally, she tied it in place as best she could, leaving her right arm free. The cold instantly sent shivers over the exposed flesh.

At least I can use my arm to defend myself , she thought grimly, as she reached down and picked up the sharp rock.

Moving as quietly as possible, she made her way to the opening. She could hear nothing but that ceaseless wind. Half-convinced that she would walk out to face a crowd of jeering spectators, she took a deep breath. It took all her courage to peek around the edge.

There was no one there.

Only rocky ground and dark, heavy clouds awaited her. A short distance in front of where she was standing, the ground dropped away. She inched closer and found herself on the edge of a cliff—a very, very high cliff.

Far below she could spot what looked like a prairie, but it was carpeted in muted shades of lavender as it stretched out towards the distant glimmer of a dark purple ocean.

Lavender grasses? Purple oceans?

Even though she had spent her life in the city, she was quite sure those colors didn't exist in nature. It had to be some trick of the light. The clouds swirled in a dark, turbulent mass, occasionally floating between her and the ground below, and she shivered. She recognized the scent of snow.

As if her thoughts had conjured it up, an icy flake drifted across her bare arm. Several more followed, descending with that slow, deceptive gentleness that she knew from experience would soon cover the ground.

After another look around confirmed that she was still alone, she placed her rock in the bag and slung it around her neck before rearranging the blanket to cover her arm. She immediately felt warmer.

Now what?

Even though she couldn't see any sign of civilization below, it had to be a better choice than remaining on this barren mountain. It looked as if the ledge to the right wound downwards, and with a silent shrug, she set off in that direction.

As she had predicted, the snow continued to fall—slow, beautiful, deadly. The blanket could do only so much, and her unprotected feet grew increasingly numb. The sky was growing darker as well, as if the unseen sun was setting, and she realized she must have lost time during her transition. The footing was treacherous enough already, slick and icy beneath her bare feet. There was no way she could make it down the mountainside in the dark.

She would have to find someplace to spend the night. For a moment, she considered returning to where she had awoken, but it would take her twice as long to return uphill on the slippery slope and, hopefully, the lower she went, the warmer it would be.

A rock wall formed one side of the ledge, but there were no openings or gaps of any size. The snow showed no signs of letting up. She turned a corner and had to fight back the tears. The ledge ended in a small bare plateau, and even in the muted light, she could see the sheer drop on the other side.

As she turned to begin the climb back up the mountainside, she saw a darker slit folded into the rock. A lifetime of disappointment had taught her not to expect anything, but hope still beat in her chest as she approached the narrow opening.

Inside, it was even darker, but there was enough light for her to make out the boundaries of a tiny cave. The rocky ground wasn't even large enough for her to lie down, but that was the least of her worries. It was dry and it was out of the wind, and that was all that mattered.

As she backed as far away from the entrance as possible, she noticed a lingering musky fragrance, but nothing about it alarmed her. If anything, there was something curiously reassuring about the odor.

She crouched down in the corner, wrapping the blanket around her icy feet. They tingled painfully, but she knew that was a good sign. Better to be in pain than numb from frostbite.

Her stomach ached, and she thought regretfully of the half sandwich she had given away. What had happened to Larry? Was he somewhere in this rocky wilderness as well? And how could she possibly have ended up here without being aware of what was happening?

She ran her fingers over her arms, searching for any sign that she had been injected with drugs, but found nothing.

The questions circled endlessly in her mind, and she barely heard the faint sound. Sound that was not caused by the wind. Was there someone outside the cave?

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest as she tried to quiet her breathing, to make herself invisible.

The sound came again, and this time she thought— no, she was sure —that it was a whimper. Something was in distress.

She was halfway to the entrance before she considered the possibility that it was some type of trap. Her heart sped up again as she cautiously peeked around the edge of the rock.

The snow had stopped falling, for now at least, but the ground was covered with a thick blanket of white. She couldn't see anyone, and she had almost decided she must have been mistaken, when she heard the weak cry again and saw something flutter against the far edge.

Unable to ignore the pitiful noise, she edged out of the cave, wincing as her feet were once again covered with snow. She crept across the small space, but she would have missed the bird, its feathers as white as the snow, if its wings hadn't fluttered again.

"Oh, you poor thing. What's wrong?"

She bent over, moving slowly so she wouldn't frighten it, then froze when she finally was close enough to see.

That was most definitely not a bird.

The white wings appeared to be made of skin rather than feathers, similar to a bat's wings, but the rest of its head and body looked more like that of a lizard. Sleek white scales covered the small body, and a crown of spikes topped its head. There was something strangely familiar about it.

A dragon ! The little creature looked like a miniature white dragon. She vaguely remembered something called a dragon lizard from high school biology, but she had no idea that they looked so much like the fantasy creatures. She started to reach for him, then hesitated, not certain if she should touch him. But he repeated the pitiful cry and she noticed that one wing drooped at an odd angle. He was hurt, and she couldn't leave him out here in the cold.

"I'm going to get you out of the snow. Please don't hurt me," she added, with an uneasy glance at the spikes crowning his head and his sharp little claws.

Big dark eyes looked up at her trustingly, and some of her nerves vanished. She stroked a cautious finger along the base of the spikes and discovered that his scales were cool and silky to the touch. The little dragon leaned into her touch.

Gathering her courage, she picked him up as carefully as possible. He didn't fight her, although he whimpered again when she folded his wing in place.

"I'm sorry, but you'll be better off out of the snow." The damp, heavy flakes began to descend again as she lifted him to her chest, and he snuggled closer.

Making her way back across the rocks, she hurried into the cave. She and the dragon were both shivering and, a little nervously, she opened her blanket and tucked him beneath it. Once again, he made no attempt to fight her, just settled down with what sounded like a sigh.

She sighed too as she pulled the blanket tight once more. The presence of another living being was amazingly comforting.

Tomorrow, she would have to try and find a way off this mountain, to find some answers, but for right now, she was safe and she was no longer alone.