34. Fell

34

Fell

W E WERE CHAOS ON THE WIND.

I clung to her as she flew. I obviously didn't know anything about flying, but it seemed she was a novice, too. And that was something. New information. It meant she had been telling the truth, and she had not been doing this all her life. Not until recently. The dragon, I suspected, for whatever reason, had just revealed itself.

She flew toward the Crags, and it was not long before we were above the clouds, cutting through wet vapor and soaring through those jagged summits I had never seen except a handful of times, on a rare summer day when the clouds and fog were thin enough.

I dared to look down, peering over her red-gold shoulder. I couldn't even see land.

It was terrifying. Exhilarating. I dared to lift myself higher on her back and let loose a shout, the rushing wind gobbling up the sound.

She took us closer to the summits, until we were flying between mountains, beside the dipping slopes and jagged ledges and rugged, uneven shoulders. Curving humps and sharp pinnacles.

She brought us in, closer. Black marbled rock peeped out from underneath the snow, and suddenly I understood. I knew what she was doing. She was looking for entrances. For mouths to caves, tunnels, hollows. A place for us to take shelter, to think and figure out our next move—for me to get answers to my countless questions.

She might have been new at the dragon thing, but instinct drove her as we glided through the air. She made it seem so easy. Effortless. We cut through wind and fog, a dull roar filling my ears.

Gradually another sound joined us. The roaring grew louder. The whistling sharper.

Until I realized it was not the air. It was not the rush of wind. It was not the whispering fog.

It came from around us. All around us.

We were not alone in the sky anymore.

They drew abreast of us. My head whipped left and right, my gaze flying to the giant bodies. Dragons. Bigger than Tamsyn, and I had thought her huge.

Clinging to the base of her wings, I twisted and looked around us, marking them, counting. Three massive black dragons, easily double her size. A fourth one, shimmering blue like water. And another, closer to her size, brown as the earth in spring.

They felt menacing. Their eyes were narrowed, the vertical pupils vibrating and quivering with deadly intent.

I screamed her name, but it was lost, consumed by wind. And unnecessary. She saw them, too. Felt the threat. Knew their intent. They were like her, but they were not friendly.

Her movements became wild, evasive. And still they followed closely, right on our tail, often right beside Tamsyn. It was a game to them, I realized. They were toying with her. Toying with us.

Unlike her, they were not new at being dragons. The way they moved, the ease with which they turned and dipped—they were expert predators. They could overtake her in an instant.

A black one came up right beside us, close enough that I could see the glimmering onyx of his eyes. I noted a jagged, bumpy scar, white against his ridged nose. It was a healed wound, but clearly delivered by dragon bone. Nothing else could leave a scar on a dragon's hide.

He was so close that I could feel the great gust of air churning from his wings, nearly lifting me off Tamsyn's back. Then he bumped her. Hard. Deliberately.

She took the hit, her body dipping sharply.

My heart slammed against my rib cage, the panic high in my throat as I tightened my grip, clinging with everything I had, my knuckles aching, bone white, my arms straining, fighting gravity. My biceps strained and quivered, my legs dangling and flailing in the swelling fog until Tamsyn righted herself and I was level on her back again.

The fog was more intense now, all around us like thick smoke. I could hardly make out Tamsyn's red-gold body beneath me. A blessing and a curse. We couldn't see the other dragons, and they couldn't see us either.

Tamsyn took advantage of the cover, diving deep into its embrace. We could still hear them, though. The slapping beats of their wings nearby. One of them roared, and the others answered in growls and echoing chitters that sent a chill down my spine.

Tamsyn's body was tight and vibrating beneath me. I held my breath, as though that would make us somehow more insignificant, quieter in the mist, invisible.

She took us down a little lower, closer to the slope of a mountain, and I could see she was scanning, searching the snowy incline for an entrance amid the rocks, a place to hide. Refuge.

Suddenly we were rammed from behind. There was no help for it this time. No time to secure my grip, no time for Tamsyn to right herself.

No saving me.

I was falling.

The wind rushed up, cradling me, but doing nothing to slow my descent. The snarling wind stormed all around me in a frenzy of air.

I could hear Tamsyn's cry above. See the flash of fire through the clouds as she unleashed on her pursuer, her brethren foe.

Then she was coming. Diving in a straight line for me. But I was too far away, falling faster than she could fly. Faster than the wind itself.

I broke through the clouds. Twisting around, I could see land, the ground rushing up to meet me.

I was falling.

Dying.

Speeding to my death.

A buzzing throbbed inside my head, ringing in my ears along with the screech of air. Deep vibrations started in my chest. Pressure built there, clenching, coiling, hurting, and I dimly wondered if it was despair over my imminent death.

Tamsyn flashed through my mind. I would miss her. And then: I was leaving her, abandoning her to these beasts. How would she survive this?

My skin snapped and contracted, a chill consuming every fiber.

My body twisted and contorted, my back straining, muscles tugging. I didn't understand the pain. I had not even hit land yet.

I wasn't dead, but I felt as if I were being pulled apart.

I fought through the pain, writhing, slapping, and clawing against the agony.

Ice flared through me in a wave impossible to contain. I arched my throat, a bellow welling up from deep inside me—from some unknown, untapped part of me. Was this death, then?

My bones cracked and pulled.

I continued to scream, but the sound was thick and garbled in a mouth that didn't even feel like mine anymore.

My eyes caught sight of my skin then. It wasn't right. Wasn't normal. It flashed and rippled with iridescent winks of silver, like a snow flurry.

The snow-covered ground was so close, so vibrant, so dazzlingly white. I had never seen anything so brilliant, so perfectly clear in my life.

I held my breath and braced for impact, wondering if I would even feel it or if death would take me quickly.

My body burst in a blinding flash of light. My clothes ripped free.

I wasn't falling anymore.

I glanced down. The earth was still there below me. I never made impact. Never reached land. I was still in the air.

And I was flying.