Eldris was on my right, yelling something at me that I couldn’t really make out over the wind. Nyx, on my left, looked like he was about to faint. Aristede, in front of us, kept shooting me wide-eyed looks over his shoulder. I didn’t dare crane around to look at Rayth, behind me.
Riding a dragon was almost completely unlike riding a horse. Yes, I’d done it once before, with Rayth. But at the time, I’d been injured and about to pass out from shock. Frankly, the memories of my ride on Cheen were hazy at best. The closest thing to which I could liken it was what I’d imagined it would be like to ride a dolphin through the waves—back when I’d been a little girl and prone to such flights of fancy.
Flights.
Something that might have been hysterical laughter in other circumstances rose up and tried to choke me. I clung to the dragon’s neck tighter and tried to breathe through the wind and the panic.
The others were steering us around in a broad arc over the valley. I felt the dip of one wing as we turned. In a moment of questionable judgment, I tried to look down so I could orient myself—only to decide that looking down was a bad, bad plan. Instead, I closed my eyes again. It wasn’t as though I could do anything to influence our direction anyway. I was a helpless passenger, nothing more.
When Eldris and Aristede had first smuggled me out of Safaad and up to the mountain hideaway, we’d traveled in more or less a straight line. Safaad was built into the northern foothills of the mountain range, and we’d followed the river that flowed down from the peaks and through the city for much of the trip.
It was a hazardous route by foot or on horseback; though a far more direct one than the alternative. The longer way involved skirting the edges of the mountain range to the far side, and coming up via established trails from Dhakar in the south. With the army approaching the valley from the southern route, the plan was for us to fly the dragons out to the north.
We would avoid Safaad itself, which might have dragon-harpoons set up as defenses by now. Instead, we’d veer east and fly across the desert uplands to the port city of Adumine, which would be easy to identify from the air. From there, we’d skirt the coastline, heading along the edge of Alyrios until we came to the peninsula that marked the northern edge of the continent. Then it was fifteen leagues across open water to Rhyth, on the southern edge of the island of Eburos.
Our safe harbor, if we could survive the journey.
I wondered if it would be possible to fly across two nations and part of an ocean with my eyes closed the whole time. Probably not. With an effort of will, I opened them again. This time, I took several deep breaths and braced myself before glancing down.
It was disorienting seeing things from this perspective, but I recognized the lake and the cliff wall that housed the cave entrance. The others had succeeded in getting us pointed in the right direction, and the trees at the northern edge of the valley were approaching fast. I glanced back—just for a second—thinking that this might be the last time I ever saw the place I’d started to think of as home over the past several weeks.
Ahead, broken areas of rock, trees, and occasional stretches of grass spread out below us, dropping away toward the lower elevations. It would be a while before we reached the river we would use to navigate. Though we were traveling at what felt like stunning speed, it had taken many hours on horseback to negotiate the stretch between the river and the valley.
I was beginning to take it as a positive sign that the white dragon hadn’t killed me yet by shaking me off and plunging me down to the distant rocks below. With luck, Eldris’ clever idea about trying to get the female dragons to entice the male to come along with them was working. Certainly, I could hear occasional dragon cries echoing around me. They weren’t the piercing shrieks of battle… more like the quieter cries that often echoed around the valley as the creatures wheeled and soared together in the sky.
It would be decidedly reassuring if I could somehow communicate with the others, but the wind rushing past us was too loud for our shouts to be understood. I supposed at least this way, I wouldn’t have to listen to them yelling at me for being an idiot. That could wait until we were far away, safe on the ground in friendly territory.
Below us, the midmorning sun glinted off trees turned russet and gold by the changing of the season. For the first time, it occurred to me that the view below was beautiful… if one could get past the general sense of pants-wetting terror involved in being so high up. Additionally, now that we were flying down the mountainside, the ride had smoothed out. We were gliding, mostly, only the occasional flap of wings necessary to keep us airborne.
Maybe this will actually work, I thought. Maybe we’re all going to be okay.
The dragons rode a series of updrafts as the sea of trees below us fell away abruptly, giving way to a steeper section of rocky trail. A ridge blocked my view of what lay beyond, but I thought we might be getting close to the karstlands that marked the area near the river. I’d feel better once we reached that landmark—proof that we were at least going in the right direction.
We sailed over the ridge, and Aristede’s ruby dragon swerved abruptly to the right. I clutched at the male’s neck as he wavered, confused by the sudden change of direction. Below us, the rocky slope opened onto a flat, grassy area bounded on two sides by more trees. My heart leapt into my throat as I made out the ranks of dark figures arrayed below us.
Soldiers. But… how could they be here, on the northern approach to the valley? How could they have war machines with them, mounted on wheeled conveyances and set up in a regular pattern across the small plain? Men milled around the weapons, many of them gesturing up at us excitedly as they scrambled to aim what looked like massive crossbows toward the sky.
Beyond, I had a confused impression of an irregular, dark green ribbon winding through the land. It took me a precious moment to realize that it was the river, and several long wooden shapes lay at its edge.
Boats. They’d transported men and dragon-harpoons up the river by boat, staging an ambush to attack us when we fled the troops approaching from the south. My eyes flew back to the lines of heavy weaponry pointed at us.
The dragons had broken formation, trying to veer in different directions in the face of the unexpected threat. The white dragon screeched, leaderless without a human soul-bond. He was aware only that the females were upset, but not why that should be. I clung to his back, unable to do anything else.
Without warning, the weapons let fly in near-unison, dozens of projectiles like giant arrows arcing toward us in a deadly wave. I drew breath to scream, but it caught in my throat as something dark and slender hurtled past my head, close enough that I could hear the whine as it parted the air around it.
A piercing screech sounded below me and to my left. I looked around frantically, my eyes falling on the red silhouette of Shantha as she twisted in the air, a harpoon jutting grotesquely from her haunches.
Chapter 17: Unacceptable Losses
Frella
ARISTEDE CLUNG TO his dragon as she flailed in the air before righting herself. The creature’s right hind leg hung limp behind her, flopping in the wind currents. The cry of denial was still lodged in my throat as we soared past the rain of metal projectiles.
Shantha flew on, her wing-beats irregular and her body held off-kilter as she struggled to stay in the air. I dragged my attention away long enough to locate the others. Lisha, Cheen, and Iyabo approached from various directions until we were once more flying as a unit. Eldris, Rayth, and Nyx were all still aboard, and they appeared unhurt.
My gaze wrenched back to Aristede. He was crouched low over Shantha’s neck as she labored through the air. Eldris urged Iyabo as close as he dared to the pair, until he could catch Aristede’s attention.
We had already left the clearing with its weapons and soldiers behind us. It would take them far too long to reload the heavy dragon-harpoons and aim them for a second volley. Eldris gestured frantically with one hand, pointing at the ground below. Urging Ar
istede to guide Shantha down from the sky.
But Aristede shook his head grimly, his long hair flying behind him like a streamer. I wanted to shout at him… rail at him until he agreed to land so we could try to help the wounded dragon. He only waved Eldris back to his assigned position at my flank, though.
Cold realization hit me. If we landed, Aristede didn’t think Shantha would be able to take off again. Tears burned at my gritty eyes. A sob coiled in my throat.
We flew on. Rayth was the next to break formation, urging Cheen faster until he could settle near Aristede’s other side—careful not to get close enough to interfere with Shantha’s uneven wing beats. I squinted into the wind, trying to make out the exchange, but Rayth and Aristede only met and held each other’s gaze.
No gestures or attempts at shouted words passed between them, but something communicated itself nonetheless. I held my breath, praying to the gods for some kind of solution to miraculously present itself. After long moments, Rayth nodded once, the movement barely visible. Then Cheen dropped back to her position guarding our rear.
Aristede waved Eldris back a second time, and this time, the big man complied. He settled in next to us, and I made the mistake of looking at his face before wishing that I hadn’t. Heaviness settled in my stomach like a stone. I looked at Nyx instead. He met my eyes, his face pale and gray. I probably looked the same.
Beneath me, powerful muscles coiled and released as the white dragon propelled us through the air. Shantha was directly in front of me, making it hard not to stare at the horrible length of metal protruding from her body. The blood was practically invisible against her crimson hide, but it dripped from the claws of her wounded hind leg like rain.
The mountains gave way to foothills, and I could see Safaad’s towers and ramparts in the distance. Shantha struggled gamely onward as the hours unspooled. The sun climbed to its zenith and began its slow trek toward the western horizon as we flew across the Utrean desert, toward Adumine on the coastline. If desperate prayers could support a wounded dragon in the air, I was sure we would have carried her all the way to Eburos. My head throbbed from stress, terror, exhaustion, and the thin air through which we flew. Dread spiked in my stomach each time Shantha faltered.
Adumine came into view, and we skirted slightly to the northwest of the busy port. It was still daylight, and it wasn’t to our benefit for more people to see the dragons in the air than absolutely necessary. Stories traveled, and we didn’t want to leave a trail for Oblisii that pointed straight toward my island home.
The plan was to follow the coast. My eyes strayed to the distant boats and ships dotting the blue-green waters. Trading vessels… fishing boats… naval schooners… passenger ships not dissimilar to the one I’d arrived on not so very long ago. From here, they looked like tiny, impossibly detailed children’s toys.
Unexpected movement in front of me wrenched my gaze back to Shantha, and I caught my breath sharply. She was wobbling again, her uneven wing strokes propelling her off course, further from the shore, until we were flying over open water rather than the coast. The rest of us followed, powerless to do anything to help her.
I looked down nervously at the waves beneath us, and then looked off to my right, a jolt of panic running through me when I realized exactly how far we’d drifted from land. The hours of continuous flight had gone some way toward burning my fear of heights out of me, but now it spiked again.
Shantha continued to lurch further and further out to sea, her distress obvious as her wings failed to follow her instructions. Horror clawed at my throat as she lost altitude, only to struggle higher again. I whipped my head around, trying to communicate to the others that we had to do something—but there was nothing to be done, and I knew it.
Aristede had gambled that we should keep going. But now that it was obvious Shantha couldn’t make it, there was nowhere for us to land. I craned around, desperately searching for some convenient island or sandbar, but there was nothing breaking the expanse of water except for the smattering of ships some distance away.
Chest heaving frantically, I looked back at Shantha, just in time to see the wing on her injured side miss a beat completely. The dragon rolled in midair, her body bucking as she righted herself. I screamed as Aristede slid sideways, one hand gripping the pommel and his right leg tangled in the stirrup leather. He dangled over open air for a moment, before Shantha’s weakened wing flapped violently, its edge catching him in the hip.
Aristede fell, my shrieks of denial following him down to the ocean below.
Shantha screeched in distress, struggling to reorient her body in the air. The white dragon’s body blocked my view of Aristede hitting the water—too far away… too far from shore… too far to fall.
“No!” I screamed into the wind. “No! No! Turn around! Go back!” I looked at the others with frantic eyes. “Why aren’t you going back! Eldris!”
But Eldris flew on, his face drawn into terrible lines of agony. The sun, low in the sky, illuminated lines of tears across Nyx’s cheeks. Dark wings passed over us as Rayth moved from his place at the back to the front, flying above Shantha’s struggling form.
“Rayth!” I screamed, forcing my failing voice past a dry throat. “Rayth, go back!”
He didn’t hear me, or perhaps he just ignored me. In desperation, I shoved at the white dragon’s neck, jabbing my heel into his side as though trying to guide a recalcitrant horse to change direction. The beast let out an angry screech and whipped his neck from side to side in warning, but he did not alter his course.
Panic constricted my chest like an iron band. Aristede was still alive in the water—he had to be, or Shantha would have fallen as well. She was still fighting forward through the air, though… losing altitude, but still flying. I tried to look behind me, searching for a human form in the endless expanse of blue. But I could only see ocean, speeding below us as more and more distance separated us from the place where Aristede had fallen.
Shantha cried out weakly, a terrible noise repeated over and over. I had to look down to see her now. The white dragon had started following Cheen instead, and the others still flanked us on either side. Without warning, Shantha’s wings crumpled and went limp. I sobbed as her serpentine body tumbled out of control and crashed into the sea.
A soul-bond. The death of one means the death of both.
“Nooo,” I moaned, clutching at the white dragon’s neck with numb hands. “No, no no… please!”
But there was no one to answer my agonized denials. Behind us, the water churned where the large creature had disappeared into it, the disturbance rapidly growing smaller as Rayth led us back on course, rejoining the coastline as we soared toward Alyrios, and the Isle of Eburos beyond.
Chapter 18: Empty Homecoming
Frella
ON SOME LEVEL, I understood why Rayth had pushed us ever onward through the night and into the morning. It was what we’d discussed. Landing in either Utrean or Alyrion territory had risks. Even if we chose an area that appeared deserted, there was always the chance that the disruption of stopping in a strange location would be enough to make the white dragon balk. What if we couldn’t get him flying again, or if he tried to head back toward the mountains?
Still, the endless flight was brutal. If I hadn’t impulsively vaulted onto the wild male’s back, I would have had access to supplies from the saddlebags. Food. Water. Extra clothing. As it was, I had nothing. I was hungry and thirsty. My bladder was screaming for relief.
And I didn’t give a shit about any of it. I hardly even noticed it beneath the leaden heaviness of shock. It was a miracle I didn’t simply slide off the dragon’s back, crushed beneath the terrible weight of what had happened.
If I’d followed the plan and ridden with Aristede, would I be dead now, too? Or would my added weight have changed Shantha’s trajectory by a vital increment when she swerved, keeping her out of the harpoon’s path?
I shook my head, trying to clear it. That way lay madness.
The northwestern coastline of Alyrios had arguably been the most dangerous stretch of our travel from a strategic standpoint, and we’d done most of it by moonlight—unobserved by the emperor’s loyal subjects. Utrea’s ruler already knew of the dragons’ existence, but the powerful Alyrion Empire had been the original impetus behind the Utrean king’s plan to wipe out the dragons.
When the emperor discovered that dragons still existed, it would throw the treaty between the two powers into disarray. True, now that the secret was out, it was only a matter of time before spies in Utrea fed the juicy news back to their spymasters in Alyrios. But that would take longer—and require more verification to confirm—than if regular Alyrion citizens saw dragons flying over their heads, large as life.
Now, the sun was up as we crossed the channel separating us from safety, praying that the dragons’ strength would hold out for a few more leagues of flight. We’d been following the polestar until the sky grew too light to see it. As I understood it after speaking with the captain of the ship I’d traveled on to get to Adumine, Eburos lay a few degrees east of true north from the tip of the Alyrion peninsula.
Of course, if my understanding was wrong, we could easily be lost at sea. The others seemed to think that the dragons might have a sense of where to find land, but there were no guarantees. It bothered me that I couldn’t work up more of a sense of worry about whether I was going to live or die. Aristede’s death had broken that part of me.
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