Page 14

14

Rhea

I scream, the sky stretching away as I fall. My arms windmill. My hair flies in front of my face. I’m going to die. I thought today would be the best day of my life. Instead, the price for my sole bad deed came due on the same night I committed it. Irony has always been my companion, a big bastard leering over my shoulder. No need to change things in the end.

At least I’ll go looking up at the sky and the stars and not the ground.

Thank you, Heratrix, for granting me this much.

A furious roar rends the night. The thump, thump, thump of wings follows. Two dragons blot the sky, robbing me of my star-spangled death. They dive in my direction, maws open wide, wind zipping between them. They take snaps and swipes at each other.

My heart beats impossibly faster. Smashing against the ground was an awful enough death, but that was too easy. Instead, now I’ll… What? Be eaten by a dragon? By two? In chunks?

Fuck! I wanted to ride a dragon, not end up inside his belly.

They drop faster than me, aided by the violent thumping of their wings. A third dragon appears above them. Fragor.

Maybe staring at the ground will be better than this. Those fucking teeth aren’t a better option. Hair lashing about, I twist my hips and kick my legs and arms to one side, managing to turn myself over.

Wrong move! The ground is no more than fifty feet away. I’m only seconds from crashing. If only I could release a Wind Blast strong enough to cushion my fall, but I’m not meant for more than Singer mediocrity. I flip around again, face up.

My spirit leaves my body. The dragons are upon me. A drop of slobber drips from Trueno’s mouth and hits my thigh. Vomit climbs up my throat. I close my eyes, prepare to die. Another earth-shaking roar breaks the night. My eyes spring open. It seems I’m a masochist and want to stare death right in the face.

Trueno and Zephyros jostle for position, shoving each other. One way to die isn’t enough. Two aren’t either. Now, it seems there’s a third. They plan to fall on top of me and flatten me. They’re insane.

Zephyros makes a violent move, smashing into Trueno’s side. The impact sends him careening into the side of the plateau. Rocks rain down, giving me yet a fourth deadly option. How could I ever be so lucky?

Instinct makes me curl up, arms flying to the sides of my head, legs tucking toward my stomach. Trueno tumbles and tumbles with a fierce cry of pain. A dislodged rock hits my elbow. Bones crunch with the sound of brittle branches. A jolt shoots up my shoulder, neck, and straight into my head. I scream, both in pain and unadulterated fear.

Zephyros is upon me, maw open wide, ready to devour me. My cry is drowned out as his huge mouth snaps closed around me, plunging me into darkness. Pain. My head swims as death sinks its fangs into me. Everything goes blank, and the pain disappears.

* * *

I blink, consciousness returning in a split second along with the pain.

I’m not dead. I’m… I’m still alive, inside a dragon’s mouth, lying on a wet, spiky tongue. Wyrm’s rot! Is he going to swallow me whole? I wait in dread, but I remain ensconced in the most unlikely of hells.

My ears are full of wet and gurgling sounds. I don’t know what’s happening outside. My stomach lurches, seeming to rise and drop like a boat in the ocean. I’m still curled up into a tight ball, the stench of carrion clogging my nostrils. Maybe I am dead. Maybe this is one of the Seven Hells, and not Zephyros’s nasty mouth.

Someone, give him some mint leaves to chew on, please. The other four deaths were preferable to this unimaginable stench.

Heratrix, save me!

As if in answer to my plea, I’m propelled forward, flying out of Zephyros’s mouth with a hawk tuah sound. I land on hard ground and roll several feet, coming to a stop as I slam into the sidewall of the lift, thick saliva dripping from my clothes and skin as if I’ve gone swimming in a bat of nasty.

—You ungrateful bug. You need an entire bath in mint, that rumbling voice speaks in my mind once more.

Goddess! This can’t be.

Gingerly holding my elbow, I stand. The world turns. I’m drunk on my feet, barely holding my ground. I wipe my eyes, and the scene comes into focus. Zephyros stands in front of me, an honest-to-Heratrix frown etched on his savage face, the smaller, tightly packed scales that form his eyebrows pinched together at the center.

Staring up at the creature, I shake my good arm and send thick saliva flying everywhere. I want to curse and rant about the unfortunate bath I just took, but it won’t pay to ignore what’s really important, and it’s not the fact that I’ll have to scrub for hours to feel clean again.

It’s the fact that I’m still fucking alive, and it’s thanks to Zephyros.

—And that is the damn truth.

I squint at the dragon, guarding my thoughts by suppressing my Weaver powers. What is wrong with him? He sure has a foul attitude.

With a whoosh of air that nearly knocks me off my feet, Fragor appears, flying upward and perpendicular to the plateau. I follow his trajectory, craning my neck. He hangs in the sky for a second, then comes down and lands. Vaylen slides down the dragon’s side, then along his front leg. He lands, knees bent to absorb the impact. Straightening, he walks in my direction, his blue eyes wide and his face full of concern.

“Are you all right?” He looks me up and down, his expression a mix of relief and surprise.

“I am?” I say, but it comes out as a question. “On second thought,” I gesture toward my arm. “I think it’s broken.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice movement. Gilbert comes out from behind the lift where he’s been hiding. Apparently, his role in all this mess was kicked to the back of my mind. What with four different death scenarios at my disposal, I had enough to deal with. At the sight of the limp mutton turd, anger boils in my gut. Without thinking, I march in his direction and try to punch him with my left arm. The jab is awkward and weak, and he avoids it easily.

Putting his hands up along with a confused expression, he says, “Hey, what’s wrong with you?”

“I’m going to kill you,” I shout.

Vaylen hurries to stand between us. “Skysinger Wyndward, what is the meaning of this?”

“He pushed me,” I say. “He pushed me off the plateau when you weren’t looking.”

“What?!” Gilbert exclaims, looking injured. “I didn’t push you. You must be confused.”

“I’m not confused, you fucking liar,” I spit.

“Watch your language around the dragons,” Vaylen says.

Zephyros snorts with derision, while Fragor stretches his neck and turns his head to one side as if offended by my words.

“You just had a traumatic experience. You’re hysterical.” Gilbert crosses his arms over his chest.

“Wyndward, that’s a serious accusation,” Vaylen says. “Are you sure?”

The anger in my gut becomes a lava pit, churning and threatening to sear right through me. I take a step closer to Vaylen until I’m only a few inches away from him and meet his gaze.

“I’m not hysterical,” I say in a barely restrained tone. “Both dragons wanted me . Same as you, he,” I point at Gilbert, “realized that and decided to get rid of me.”

Vaylen sighs. He seems tired beyond measure, as if he already has enough problems and this one is just piling on top.

“There will be an inquiry,” he says.

“What?!” Gilbert protests. “I didn’t do anything. This isn’t fair. She’s the one who wants to get rid of me . It’s obvious.”

Zephyros snorts again, then with a roll of his eyes, hits Gilbert with a careless jerk of his tail. As if he were a crumb knocked off a table with the flick of a finger, Gilbert flies backward and goes over the cliff, plummeting with a scream.

“No!” Vaylen runs, a hand outstretched as if he could reach out and save him.

My mouth falls open at the horror of it.

“Fragor,” Vaylen says his dragon’s name like a plea, perhaps hoping the creature can save Gilbert, but Fragor doesn’t move one scale. Instead, he grunts, looking from Vaylen to Zephyros.

“Oh.” Vaylen’s shoulders fall. He pinches the bridge of his nose, then rubs his forehead.

“Um, what just…” I trail off.

“Zephyros told Fragor that Gilbert did push you. That’s why Zephyros… did that.” He gestures tiredly toward the cliff.

“I told you I wasn’t lying,” I whisper, staring at my boots and feeling the same exhaustion I see in Vaylen’s expression.

He nods, his mind clearly speeding, perhaps trying to figure out what must be done next.

“Is… Trueno all right?” I ask.

“He is. Just a little banged up, but he’ll be fine.”

“Good.”

Zephyros blows air through his nose.

I look at him sideways. He can’t possibly want me to wish ill on Trueno. I didn’t even wish Gilbert dead. Not really.

“That was…” Vaylen thinks for a moment. “I’ve never heard of anything like that happening before. Two dragons wanting to bond with the same rider.”

“Wait, did you say bond ?”

Vaylen’s thick eyebrows go up as he cocks his head to one side as if in reprimand for not remembering my lessons. “Yes, bond . That’s why they fought. Otherwise, they could have come to an agreement.”

I glance toward Zephyros. He flicks his eyes to one side, acting self-important as if he would never do such a lowly thing as bonding with a human.

Something happens to my body and my legs give out. I fall to my knees and stare at the ground, sinking into the incredulity that washes over me.

I didn’t only get a dragon... I’ll be bonded to one! I’ll be like Vaylen—one of the most powerful Skyriders in all of Embernia.

Today is undeniably the best and worst day of my life, all at the same time.