Wings of Fire Legends • The Blue Comet

Chapter Thirteen

The water of the swamp was murky and hard to see through. Bisque could hardly see her talon in front of her face, much less the alligator gar she was trying to hunt, but she would manage.

     Staying still was the only way she might succeed. If she kept her eyes closed in slits, she could pass for a log. Already, tiny minnows were picking between her scales for algae or other bits of food. She could feel them along her jaw, neck, and wings, and although the sensation was pleasant, it could not satisfy her hunger.

     Only something as big as this gar could. She wanted to impress Skipper and was set on the alligator gar that had evaded dragons for nearly a century. It was mostly a legend, as she was not sure gars could live that long, but the occasional sighting kept hope alive. This one seemed to be beyond lucky if it was that old and had never been caught. It must be huge, and she wanted to catch it for their dinner.

     A shadowy shape swam past her. Bisque stayed still. It was too far.

     There was no way that fish would outsmart her. Her scales were the colour of a stripped log or clay after its first firing in a kiln – the origin of her name, Bisque. She had tucked her wings around herself carefully to mimic the shape of a log even better. She was in the shallow warm waters the gar seemed to favour, balanced on her hind legs. Tensed, they kept her still and straight enough that her nose stayed above the water. Her position was good enough that smaller fish collected under her shadow to avoid the hunting water birds. All she had to do was wait for the gar to swim under her claws for one of the tasty fish, and then she'd have it.

     But waiting was starting to become difficult. The water was warm, but she felt hotter on the inside. The change happened so gradually she thought she was hallucinating at first.

     Is the gar magical? Has surviving for one hundred years granted it some kind of power? Is this how it evades capture – by heating the water until MudWings are so uncomfortable they have to leave?

     The water was more than just warm. It was starting to bubble. The minnows had swum away, probably looking for colder water, but Bisque was stubborn. She would not let the gar chase her away!

     However, the longer she stayed waiting, the more pain she felt. Her slow, shallow breaths turned strained. She was gasping and the water was boiling.

     Normally, heat bothered her less than other MudWings, but this was too much! Bisque forgot about the gar, thrashing in pain.

- ❈ -

The mud around her was boiling. The hut was filled with dark shadows cast by blue light. Bisque could hardly orient herself over the shock of the noise – roaring, bubbling, and screaming. Where was it coming from? What was happening?

     "Out! Get outside!" it was Skipper, their bigwings. He was the one screaming, trying to pull their youngest sib, Toadstool, out from the boiling mud.

     Bisque was the closest. She was also the one best prepared for dealing with whatever was outside that was boiling the mud. She struggled out, shaking the exhaustion from her, intense heat rolling over her in waves like from her dream.

     A streak of blue light was threading through the air. As it swooped towards the ground, a stream of fire issued from it, burning everything it touched. The mud never boiled. It baked and hardened instantly. The water from the marshes evaporated. The trees blazed under the blue fire.

     Bisque spun, reaching for the nearest dragon. "Quick! We have to get out now!"

     Just as Toadstool was being passed to her, his eyes focused on something behind her. His eyes widened. Bisque noticed her shadow being cast on the hut with an outline of bright blue light.