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16

ARE WE DEAD YET?

“O ld Grim has done well,” Nogel said, more to the dragon than to us. “The palace is only a few hours away now. We shouldn’t need to stop again.”

As I neared the beast, willing my stomach back where it belonged, the old dragon inclined his head in my direction once again. His eyes were wet and bright, his mouth slightly ajar to accommodate his labored breathing.

Grim was enjoying himself.

I took my seat just behind Nogel, as before, but Minkin chose to sit in front of Sweetie, leaving the space between us available for Tearloch. And she had the nerve to act like she hadn’t done it intentionally.

I wanted him close. I wanted to feel his arms around me. But I wanted it too much. As soon as they got word of Huxor’s whereabouts, I’d be forgotten again. I’d already had a good taste of that disappointment, and I didn’t want another helping.

Did I?

I half-wished he'd move to the rear, with the guards, so my heart would be out of reach…

Too late. A small chill ran up my spine as he settled in behind me and attached his rig to the seat. The rush repeated when the old dragon stood, jostling us briefly before leaping off the ground, and my heart soared into the sky when Tearloch’s strong arms held me steady.

Damn, but I was in trouble.

We were high in the sky and well into the familiar rhythm when the pressure of his arms around my nightcoat disappeared. I pulled the coat tighter to keep the freezing wind from slipping inside my clothing and sliding along my skin.

A fresh wave of chills raced along my neck when he leaned close to speak in my ear. "If it's true that you've lived all your life in Redstone Canyon, then Ristat's climate will shock you. You will want warmer clothing."

If? If I’d lived all my life in the canyon? If I wasn’t lying…

At that moment, I felt Demius’ absence more acutely than ever. Though I'd been fairly lonely all my life, I admitted that I'd never been alone, that I was lucky to have had family, such as it was. And that I would never be so lucky again.

I guess I wanted someone who knew me well to stand up for me, to tell them all I was honest and loyal, that I had integrity, that I…was worthy of love.

No! That wasn’t right! I shouldn’t need to have someone else vouch for me. And I was done trying to prove myself to anyone. I’d given up my quest for vengeance, and I’d asked them for nothing. I’d asked him for nothing.

Weary of the wind whipping across my face, I loosened my nightcoat around my shoulders, then lifted it up over my head before pulling it tight again. After I was comfortable once more, Tearloch pulled me back against him. When I tried to resist, he barked at me to sleep. I considered explaining that I wouldn’t need rest for a long while, but that would require me to come out of my cocoon.

Instead, I inhaled deeply and tried to relax. The wind outside the thick cloth seemed far away. The lift and fall of the beating wings lulled me to sleep despite myself.

* * *

I woke to the sound of my own scream, to the feel of my stomach falling through my body!

I fought the folds of my coat away from my head and gripped the seat even as Tearloch’s arm clenched tighter around me.

"Hold!" Nogel shouted. "Steady, Grim!"

The old and damaged wings rose, fell, then rose again. There was life in him yet.

Still, we sank so rapidly, I couldn't imagine a soft landing. Tearloch's arm was securely in place—the only thing keeping me from screaming again as the old wings faltered and we fell even faster.

If I grabbed Nogel, it might distract him.

"Come on, old boy," he shouted. "Get us to ground."

Again, the wings rallied, beat against the wind, eased the angle of our dive. Then they stretched, held, and I began to hope. Maybe he'd just fallen asleep, as I had, and was completely awake now.

As the seconds passed, my racing heart slowed slightly. I imagined everyone behind me did the same. Minutes crept by, the fear ebbed, and eventually, Nogel's posture relaxed. Our descent continued at a controlled rate. There was no telling where we would land, but unless we’d travelled for hours while I’d slept, we wouldn’t be close to the palace or anywhere near Ristat.

Nogel had estimated we’d arrive by dawn. If the skies were lighter, I certainly couldn’t tell. Looking out past Grim’s wings, I could barely make out the landscape, but it was closer than before. At least we weren’t in the clouds. If we fell now, we’d still die, but our panic would be shorter.

Then it happened.

I felt a powerful jerk beneath me. Grim’s left wing folded tight against him, and we rolled as if a leg had folded beneath us. I closed my eyes and held tight, grateful for Tearloch’s arm around me, though I felt his weight pull on me, off and on, while we tumbled again and again.

A man shouted from a distance—he must have fallen off!

“Protect the princess!” Nogel shouted. “You can do it!"

Suddenly, I remembered something Dower had said about Dragons pulling energy from heartstone. I fought against Tearloch’s arm so I could stretch far enough to touch the dragonhide beneath me, but he was too strong. I tried again and he pulled me tighter. With no time to explain, I grabbed the tips of his fingers and pealed them away then bent quickly to lay my hand against Old Grim’s papery skin. I ignored a sudden stinging in my side and the wing ripping through my coat and willed the dragon to take power from me.

Still, we rolled with nothing to stop us. Tearloch tried to pull me back, but I batted his hand away.

Grim’s left wing extended again, which made us spin slower, but we were still out of control. It wasn’t until it flapped, weakly, that we stopped and held. The ground came at us like a giant club. It was over.

But then both wings tucked beneath us, and when we spun again, the ground passed over our heads. Another flip, and it was beneath us again, rushing past, then slowing. In one last surge of effort, the ancient wings spread and flapped against the ferocious wind, defying the inevitable crash. We fell straight to the ground. My heart exploded, along with my stomach, but the impact was softened by a bed of a hundred trees…and one dragon’s body.

Air rushed from its lungs…and never rushed in again.

Old Grim had given his last.

For a long time, we sat in silence. I’d so completely prepared myself for death, it took time to believe I was still alive, still breathing in and out, still possessed of my limbs, my wits.

Tearloch held the back of my nightcoat in a death grip. It had pulled free on one side. The fingers of his other hand were imbedded in the cloth of my gown. The seam had ripped open. Cold air caressed my waist where it lay bare, but it was he who shuddered.

I might never have released my hold on the metal seat if I hadn’t felt something wet against me. I pressed my fingers to my skin and when I pulled them away, they were covered with blood. I then remembered that sting and knew the blood must be mine.

Tearloch released me, then grabbed my wrist and held it up for a look. “You’re hurt.”

“Not badly.”

Blood smeared from his glove onto my wrist and he released me. It seemed his tight hold hadn’t just ripped open my dress seam.

“Forgive me,” he murmured.

“I might not be whole otherwise. I am grateful.”

He helped me to the ground, then stripped off his glove and gave it to me. “Use this to staunch the bleeding, for now.” He helped the others disembark while I wandered around to Grim’s motionless head. I hadn’t truly appreciated his size or his majesty before, only worried about the role I was playing.

“I’m sorry. You died for a princess that doesn’t exist,” I said, then reached out to touch the beast’s cheek.

Nogel came up behind me. “Forgive me, princess. I truly believed he could make the journey. He truly believed it.”

“We’re alive. At least…most of us. His effort was valiant.”

“Yes, my lady. We lost one of your guards.”

The dragon’s body shifted and we backed away. Nogel held out a protective arm, but it wasn’t necessary. The beast was dead. It was its spirit that struggled to free itself. And as we all watched, an ethereal white mist rose from the heart of the dragon, paused to consider its audience, then headed straight for me!

Nogel’s protection vanished. I felt, rather than saw, the others backing away.

The white stuff shifted around me, considered me from every side, then nodded and lifted into the sky. Once it was gone, everyone was aghast.

“An Everkind dragon?” I asked Nogel. “Is that common?”

Tears dripped from his wide eyes. “I had no idea. We should have…treated him better.”

Tearloch was back at my side. Scowling again, he searched my eyes, then got down on a knee to examine my wound. Minkin joined him, pulled a bit of cloth from her bag, and after cleaning my waist with water, pressed a clean cloth against it. Her plaited hair had nearly all pulled free, and the blossoms were gone.

“She’ll need doctoring,” she said. “It’s a wonder we all didn’t fall off. Must remember to be grateful for that.”

Tearloch ran his fingers through his hair. “You tried to pull away. Why?”

I explained, briefly, what I’d tried to do. “I don’t know if it worked.”

Nogel overheard me. “Probably saved us. I was sure he was already dead.”

A while later, Morrow and his two remaining men joined us carrying the man who had fallen. They laid him beside the dragon. He still had his head, but the body was far too damaged to recover, despite his immortality.

“I’m sorry,” I told them. “I never asked his name.”

Morrow dipped his head. “It wouldn’t have been his real name in any case.”

* * *

Nogel and the guards agreed that the right course of action would be to burn the bodies of both the dragon and the guard, even if it would take us some time. It didn’t seem right to simply leave them behind.

We set out to gather what wood and flammables that could be found, then made a bed for the guard and tucked the rest of our scraps around Old Grim. We all climbed up a nearby hillock to watch as Nogel set off the conflagration.

Unsurprisingly, the dragon’s wings caught, flamed, and were soon gone with nothing but black bones standing, though they didn’t stand for long. The old skin caught just as easily, and I was grateful for a slight wind that took the smoke away from our hill. When we left the still-burning pyre behind, we also left the length of metal seats that now looked like the spine of an infant dragon sitting by to watch its parent burn.

It was sobering to think, had Tearloch not held tight, it might have been me smoldering there, with nothing to be remembered by but a pile of char and a melted key to a library.

I owed him my life. And with the weight of that debt, I finally understood why Demius had advised against it—if I were compelled to repay Tearloch at an inopportune time, would I do the honorable thing?