Page 52

52

S ADDLED ATOP P YLLAR , Daal regretted his decision as soon as the huge door to the lower hold cranked open. A blast of desert fire washed any coolness from the shadowy space. The flare of brightness burned all sight from his amber-goggled eyes. His first breath choked on the distant reek of burning brimstan.

The breath of the Dragon.

A low rumbling reached him, too, like the grind of heavy ice just before a frozen cliff collapsed. That pending sense of doom pebbled up the hairs along his arms.

Seated atop Heffik on Daal’s left, Tamryn ducked against the heat and noise. Like him, she had donned flying leathers over a thin shift. Though he could not tell if she was sweating as heavily as he was under the protective gear. She certainly looked no happier, her short hair oiled flat, her eyes goggled against the glare. The sunlight bled any hit of emerald from her skin.

Still, she stared with determination into the blaze.

Nyx, too, had the same firm-lipped countenance as she crouched atop Bashaliia. The fiery brightness had burnished the golden threads of her dark hair, bound now into a tail behind her. She lifted an arm, then swept it toward the open door.

Bashaliia crossed the distance, scrabbling on his hindlegs and balancing atop the knuckles of his wings. He looked ungainly and awkward. Then the Myr bat dove off the end of the lowered door and fell away, vanishing out of sight. A moment later, he reappeared, carried aloft on huge wings. In flight, the winds swept away all clumsiness.

Daal gave chase, flanked by Tamryn.

They burst out of the hold together. Daal felt the familiar rise and fall of his stomach as Pyllar dropped, then caught air with an outstretched snap of his wings. Daal angled to pursue Nyx. He had hoped the sweep of wind would stem the air’s burn, but it only seared his lungs and dried the sweat under his leathers.

Nyx tilted on a wing and turned sharply northwest. She passed the bulk of the Fyredragon and sped off ahead of the large ship.

Once clear himself, Daal lifted a flat hand toward Tamryn and tilted it to the left, ordering her to flank Nyx on that side. She gave a nod, leaned that way, and Heffik dropped off from him. He shifted his weight, but Pyllar had already dipped a wing, either anticipating or sensing his desire. He dove to the right of Nyx’s trail.

They raced low over the sea of black glass. Daal caught their passage reflected in that dark mirror. He also noted the prow of the Fyredragon slowly swinging their direction, intending to follow in their wake.

Not that the huge ship had any hope of keeping up.

The three of them rushed for the western shore.

Then a flash of fire reflected off the glass below. He looked over his shoulder. From the stern of the Fyredragon, a sailraft shot out, jettisoned by a launch bow inside the upper hold. The small craft looked like a bulky wooden arrow, trailing flames. Then a balloon popped open above it, swelling in a breath to catch the weight of the raft before it plummeted.

The small vessel swung steeply, driven by its stern forge, and set off after them.

Daal frowned. In the rush to exit the ship, he had not been informed that anyone would follow. Maybe Nyx had been told, but he doubted it. Still, he could guess who was aboard the raft.

He remembered Graylin’s shout as Daal and Nyx had fled the wheelhouse.

You’re not going alone!

Apparently, the grizzled knight—Nyx’s father—had deemed the escort of two raash’ke riders was not enough to protect his daughter. No doubt others were aboard the raft, too.

Daal focused forward again.

The western shore grew, a line of red sand against black glass. As they swept closer, the dark mirror under them shattered into fractured pieces, sticking askew, raising sharp points and razored edges, forming a dangerous reef along the coast.

Then the trio shot clear of the danger, whisking low over sand, then shooting higher as the strange forest climbed ahead of them. As brilliant as these woods were from a distance, up close the sight drew the breath from Daal’s hot lungs. He swore the air grew slightly cooler, too.

Below, the forest rose in thick crystalline stalks that branched into a dense canopy. While the trees were leafless, pine-cone-like frills dotted the stems, some blossoming into translucent petals that stirred at their passage.

This was no dead forest.

It’s alive.

Still, what struck Daal the most was the sheer radiance of this forest. It dazzled the eye. At first, he thought it was just sunlight refracting off the crystal, then he realized the forest shimmered on its own, swirling more brilliantly in Nyx’s wake as she rode ahead of them.

Despite this strangeness, Daal was struck by a familiarity. It took him several breaths—which definitely felt cooler!—to realize what this growth resembled. He flashed to the emerald sea of his home in the Crèche. While out fishing, he often dove deep with spear or trident and hunted the phosphorescent forests growing along the seabed.

Coral…

That’s what this forest looked like, only of titanic size. While some of the crystalline trees looked to be fragile saplings, others had boles as thick around as the legs of the massive martoks that roamed the ice fields of the Frozen Wastes. Those giant trees climbed tens of stories into the air. Their radiance appeared more subdued, less excitable, nearly melancholy, like somber sentinels of this forest.

Still, none of this was what they had flown out here to scout.

Ahead, in the center of the crystal forest, a blue expanse beckoned. While mirror smooth like the sea of glass, its surface shimmered. Definitely water. A mist hung over it, likely formed from the heat and sunlight burning away the lake’s surface.

Nyx reached the blue expanse and swirled through the vapor in a slow circle. Daal and Tamryn joined her, both trailing her path. Daal held out his hand, letting the mist bead across his palm. He brought the wetness to his lips and tongue. While leery of some poisonous nature to the lake, he could not resist, not after the months of scarcity and the last weeks of cruel rationing.

Before attempting this, he had gained some reassurance as Pyllar swept through the cool mists, drawing deep breaths, mouth open to the welcoming dampness. Through his mount’s senses, he felt Pyllar’s contentment and relief. It mirrored his own, blurring the line between them. If there was any harm, he trusted the keener senses of the raash’ke to discern it.

Tamryn looked toward him, likely watching to see if he would topple out of his saddle.

He formed a circle with his hand, indicating all was well.

Ahead, Nyx used Gynish signals to pose a question: Do we head down to the water?

Pyllar chuffed and stirred under him, anxious to do just that.

The other two mounts, starved of water, clearly wanted to do the same. If left on their own, they would already be down there.

Still, Daal turned in his saddle and spied the sailraft flaming toward them. The slower craft had yet to reach the shoreline, still flying over the black sea. He pointed at it, then held up a palm.

Do we wait for the others?

Nyx stared over there with a deep frown, then answered by leaning forward. Bashaliia dove toward the misty lake. Still, she remained cautious enough to circle low, studying the forest’s fringes, which grew into a dense thicket, looking nearly impenetrable, forming a natural bulwark around the lake.

Daal did the same.

Beyond the waving petals of blooming cones and the flickering iridescence of the crystals, nothing stirred out there.

Nyx glanced his way.

He circled his fingers, earning a confirmatory nod from her.

Tamryn whistled, a piercing note that drew both their eyes. She pointed to a broken section of the tree line, where one of those massive sentinels had toppled into the forest, opening a small beach.

Nyx glided toward it, circled once, then guided Bashaliia toward the sand. His wings buffeted wide, scooping air, then his claws dragged along the beach and came to a stop. To make room, Nyx nickered and got her brother to wade into the shallows.

Daal followed her down and splashed Pyllar into the lake’s edge. Tamryn came on his heels, with Heffik gouging the sand deeply, both raash’ke plainly anxious to get to the water.

Still, all three kept to their saddles, letting their mounts wallow deeper. The beasts slapped their wings against the lake’s surface to cool the heat of their searing flight. Water splashed over the riders, too, raising laughter, a rare sound of late.

Nyx smiled, trying to hide it with a raised hand, as if ashamed to find any joy in their dire situation. Soaked and dripping, she called over, while tossing an arm to encompass the lake.

“How could this be here?”

Daal offered a possible explanation. “There must be a cool spring continually feeding the lake, while the sun and heat persistently fight to dry it out.”

Tamryn had her own opinion. “I don’t care how it’s here, only that it is. ”

She undid the hooks on her riding leathers, shedding the heavy clothing. She tossed the vest to the shore, then climbed atop her saddle, where she wriggled and shimmied out of her breeches.

“What are you waiting for?” she scolded them, stripping down to the thin shift beneath. “I’ve not had an opportunity to swim since we left the Crèche. I’m not about to miss this chance.”

She dove off Heffik’s back and vanished into the water. Her pale form skimmed under the blue surface, then she rolled back into view with a spray of water.

Daal looked at Nyx, then shrugged. “She’s not wrong.”

Soon both of them followed Tamryn’s example. They jettisoned their leathers and dove into the lake. Daal plunged deep, sweeping from sun-bright blue waters to a darker cobalt. He shivered at the chill, at the rush over his bare skin, as if he swam naked. After a long-held breath, he angled back up and surfaced with a huff of relief.

He spun his body around to spot Tamryn rising out of the shallows. Her thin shift clung to her every curve, the dampness turning white cloth into a translucent shimmer. She turned toward him, combing fingers through her short hair. The lift of her breasts pressed against the fabric, revealing the darker shade of her nipples.

Daal turned away, heat rising to his cheeks—and not just there.

Heavy splashing drew his attention to Heffik and Pyllar. The buck and doe tussled playfully, entwining necks, rolling in the water. Velvety nostrils rubbed, while wings enfolded. Again, unbidden, Daal flashed into Pyllar’s senses and body. His mount’s heart thundering became his own. The cool water soaked the bat’s thick pelt, weighing it down.

Daal’s hand lifted to the damp fur of his own chest.

Then he felt a hardening heat, down low, as Pyllar rubbed his belly against Heffik. Daal’s breathing deepened to match his mount’s. He felt a new warmth envelop his loins when the buck found the doe’s tender spot.

No…

Daal shook out of the connection, kicking away, realizing the raash’ke were not just playing. While what was happening was more about intimacy and connection than mating, he wanted no part of it.

He let the chill of the lake draw him firmly back into his own body. Still, he was happy to be in the water, where his pronounced stiffening could be hidden in the depths. As he turned his back on the two raash’ke, he noted Tamryn staring at him, her head cocked slightly to the side.

Daal’s cheeks flushed hotter.

Had she shared any of that, some vague echo from Heffik?

He prayed that was not the case.

Nyx called from the shallows to the right, where she kept with Bashaliia. The Myr bat was bowed low, the crown of his head resting on Nyx’s chest. She combed fingers absently behind the folds of those tall ears.

“Listen!” Nyx shouted over. “Do you hear that?”

Daal heard nothing but the thudding of his heart in his ears and the approaching roar of the sailraft. The craft was nearly upon them, cresting over the forest.

Nyx drifted toward the beach, drawing Bashaliia with her.

Tamryn waded closer. “Sounds like ice shards cascading down a steep slope.”

“Or tiny silver bells,” Nyx said.

Daal strained to hear anything and pushed into the shallower water, following the two women. Some of his anxiety must have reached Pyllar, as the heavy splashing quieted behind him.

Then a soft ringing reached his ears, rising out of the forest like a whisper of wind through chimes.

“I think it’s coming from the crystals,” Nyx said in a hushed voice, as if fearful of disturbing this scintillating melody. “I swear it just started. Or maybe I didn’t hear it until now.”

Plainly curious and wanting to investigate, Nyx warmed her body with a golden aura of bridling. A soft song rose from her throat, as if struggling for harmony with the forest’s chorus.

“It’s getting louder,” she murmured, her words lilting with the chimes.

Then a growing roar drowned the music away. The mists above grew fiery as the sailraft reached them. The craft circled quizzically, then lowered for a landing on the beach.

Still, Nyx’s gaze never left the forest.

Daal had drawn close enough to hear Nyx whisper, her words golden with bridle-song.

“Something approaches…”

Daal stared off into the glittering wilderness.

He knew she didn’t mean the sailraft.