A day has passed since our encounter with the silvamander, and we sit quietly in my cubby room. I had just popped into the café to get us two mugs of steaming hot chocolate – in both of our opinions the best drink for a day like today – both topped with a mountain of whipped cream each, and a scattering of pastel pink marshmallows. Looking up at Leo, who has managed to acquire a chocolatey moustache, I grin. Outside, the whining wind whips across the seafront. Inside, my wood burner crackles in delight, as we prop our cosy toes up against it. Typically, Leo can’t resist breaking the bliss. ‘I’ve done some inquiring around town,’ he begins, getting excited, ‘and I might just have found something INCREDIBLE,’ Then he notices my unimpressed face, ‘and extremely useful, of course…’

Leo admits that he has been collecting information and evidence without me. I frown at him; I thought we were a team. Anyway, he claims to have discovered a unique trail of silver scales, creating a path across the rocks and through a hidden passage in one of the caverns in the cliffs at the south end of Ripple-on-Sea.

Hastily scribbling and leaving a brief note at the café counter, (to let the other staff know that I would do my hours another day) we set off to the cliffs, battling against the ferocious wind. Despite wearing a polar neck, two jumpers and my raincoat, the cold and rain still manages to seep through. As we scramble over the precarious rocks, I begin to wonder once again: should I have followed Leo? Surely he had learned something from last time. Suddenly, he calls me ahead, to where he’s crouched, examining something. He yells at me, ‘Ammie! Look at this, I wasn’t lying you know.’
We peer down at the silver scale, which is wedged inside a crevice in the weathered rocks, and I reply defensively, ‘I never said that you were!’

As a matter of fact, I had never actually believed Leo, but I feel guilty now, as the evidence is right infront of us. I pull a torch out of my coat pocket, and flick it on. We are shortly blinded as the bright light reflects off of the scale. Immediately, I turn it off and shield my eyes with my free hand. ‘Sorry!’ I gasp, after my eyes have slightly recovered; Leo just groans. He pulls me up, and we carry on walking.

We are plunged into darkness as we enter the cavern. The smell of dank and something metallic smothers us the moment that we step in. I try to linger back, but Leo tugs me on, a determined look on his face. Through the gloom, I see something. We tiptoe closer, and see that it is a tall rock, in the centre of the cavern. Displayed proudly like a trophy, nestled in a huge nest of spikey marram grass, shredded scraps of metal, and strewn newspapers, is a magnificent, platinum-encrusted egg. Intricate patterns swirl across the dark grey surface of the shell, and a steady pulse radiates from the inside. All of a sudden, it all dawns across my mind: everything makes sense. The silvamander has it’s own egg – but hang on; if there’s an egg, then it has to have a mother…

I tug desperately at Leo’s sleeve. ‘We need to go! Don’t you understand? It’s the egg!’ I hiss, but Leo just stands and stares, struck dumb by whatever he’s seeing. Cautiously, I follow his gaze. There’s something blocking the entrance, something stinking, something colossal, something angry. I whimper, silently. We are in the silvamanders’ lair. And we are face to face with the silvamander itself. Again.