Part 21 (2/2)
While Stef worked on harnesses, I helped Whit take down the tent. Sam packed all our bags, constantly shooting worried looks at the dragons. His expression stayed dark, and shadows haunted his eyes.
Though humans had learned to make things fly generations agoa”like air dronesa”most people held a strong belief that humans were born without wings for a reason. None of us were happy about this, but if we could get back to Heart early, that would make this worth it.
”I already rode a dragon over a valley.” I tried to smile as I closed my flute case and double-checked the straps. ”It will be fine.”
”They dragged you through trees.” Whit shook his head. ”Orrin will never believe we're doing this.”
”No one will.” I couldn't even imagine Sarit's expression when we told her.
”I don't believe we're doing this.” Stef held up two rope harnesses. ”Now pay attention. All of you.” She motioned at the dragons, too.
<what are=”” those?=””> Acid Breath's words buzzed through my head, making the world spin for a moment. After this, I never wanted to speak to a dragon again.
”I've made two harnesses. They're to hold us secure. They'll go over the dragons' head and settle just above the wings. They shouldn't impede flight at all. There'll be two people to a dragon.” She glanced at Sam and me. ”I a.s.sume you'll want to fly together.”
Sam nodded, never looking away from the ropes in Stef's hands.
”All right. There's also a ring here in the front for our backpacks. Since we'll be riding double, I don't want our bags to get in the way. They'll hang like pendants.” She looked up at Acid Breath. ”I a.s.sume you can handle that.”
<of course.=””> Stef and Whit began putting the harnesses onto the dragons, their movements stiff and careful. Sylph ducked around them, keeping the air warm, keeping the dragons from moving too suddenly. Several times, Stef tugged on a harness and asked the dragon if it was comfortable or if it hurt, and for a moment it seemed strange that she'd put so much care into the comfort of a dragon, but she was right: if the harnesses were awkward to fly with, we were in danger.
When they were done, I told Acid Breath where we needed to go, trying to describe Menehem's lab as it might look from above. ”There's a huge metal building, a clearing, lots of foresta””
”Oh. Great. That makes it easier, doesn't it?” I tried to smile, but the dragon just glared at me.
Acid Breath held still while I climbed onto his back and settled astride him. He hissed a little as Sam climbed on after me, muttering in the back of his mind, but nothing more.
Sam sat behind me, both of us bundled in coats and extra layers, and with blankets tied around us like a coc.o.o.n so we could share body heat. We pulled scarves over our faces like masks, and then he wrapped his arms around me. We wouldn't have sylph to keep us warm during the trip, and the dragon's scales were like chips of ice.
”Don't look down,” Sam said, loudly enough for me to hear through my hood and three hats. ”It's going to be dark, so you won't see anything, but it will be easier if you don't look.”
”I'm not afraid of heights.” I tried to snuggle closer to him, but we'd been so thoroughly secured I couldn't move. We were already seated as close as possible, anyway. All the layers just made it seem far.
”I know. But this heighta”it can still be overwhelming. It might make you dizzy or confused about how you're oriented, like when you're in water and you can't tell which way is up.”
All this rambling was an attempt to put himself at ease, distract himself from what we were about to do. How did he even know what it would be like? Maybe he was guessing. Or maybe he remembered from dying, being thrashed around in a dragon's grip.
I wanted to double-check all our knots, but I doubted that would help his mood. Instead, I patted his knee. ”When I was drowning in the lake, before you saved me”a”he needed to remember his couragea””it was impossible to tell up from down. I wonder if it's easier to fly at night, when you can't see anything, or during the day, when you can see everything.”
”Depends, I think.” Sam hunched over me as muscles rippled and moved beneath us. ”What's more frightening? The known or unknown?”
Most people would say the unknown. I wasn't sure what my answer was.
<we are=”” ready.=””> Indeed, Stef and Whit were strapped onto another dragon, their bags and the collapsed tent hanging from the bottom of the harness. It would sway, but Stef had done a good job securing everything tightly, so it would move very little.
Muscles coiled, fluttered against my legs and chest as I leaned over Acid Breath. From the corner of my eye, I could see enormous golden wings stretch out and s.h.i.+mmer in Stef's flashlight. A network of bones and veins stood out when light shone through the leathery appendage. I couldn't fathom how something so thin could be strong enough to lift an entire dragon, but during Templedark, I'd slid down a wing to escape a rooftop. The delicate flesh hadn't split under my weight, as I'd feared.
The wings rose up, swooshed down. Air caught in a bubble, giving us a heartbeat of weightlessness. In our coc.o.o.n of blankets, Sam's fingers jabbed against my clothes, against my ribs. I struggled to breathe evenly.
Thunder snapped as Acid Breath flapped his wings again. His body jerked lowera”I bit back a yelpa”and muscles bunched. <hold tight,=””> he muttered in our heads, though there was nothing to hold on to but the blankets used as padding between us.
Wings beat faster, dragon thunder ripping through the air. He leapt, and my stomach droppeda”
We thudded to the ground, trees cras.h.i.+ng aside. He turned, galloped a few steps, flapped faster, and jumped again.
The air held us. Acid Breath's muscles flexed and moved, nothing at all like the smooth gait of a horse. His body twisted and bent, snakelike.
Then I couldn't think about that discomfort, only the sharp rise and the way he was suddenly vertical. I slid on the blanket, toward Sam. His grip on my ribs tightened, and somethinga”his chin or foreheada”dug against my back. I couldn't hear anything but the wings pounding on air.
We slid. Screaming, I reached forward, but my mittened hands glided along slick scales. No chance of holding on.
I had no clue how high we were, but with frigid air and snow stinging my eyes, stealing my breath, I easily imagined the terror of a free fall.
The blanket slid more. Faintly, I wondered if all the cloth wrapped around us would soften the blow when we hit the ground. Probably not.
Thunder and wind, my screams and Sam's, the shrieking buzz of dragons' communication: the sounds deafened me, and my ears popped and popped as we rose higher. My head felt ready to explode as the pressure changed, and I couldn't breathe right. Thin, icy air rushed across my face, even when I ducked my head to let my hood take the brunt.
We hurtled into the sky, falling upward as fast as Acid Breath's wings would carry us.
We slipped. Ropes gouged my waist and legs. Sam pressed harder against me. Any moment now, the ropes would snap and we'd fall.
Our ascent eased, and Acid Breath was horizontal again.
I didn't know when I'd stopped screaming. Maybe whenever the air had stopped being heavy enough for proper breathing. Gasping, I waited for my heart to slow into a regular rhythm, and for my ears to stop aching. Sam shook against me; I trembled, too.
Acid Breath's wings thundered, and sharp air rushed against our faces, but we were still on his back, and that was what I cared about.
Sam's voice strained under the din of wings and air. ”Are you okay?”
I tried to nod, but he wouldn't see it. Instead, I released my useless death grip on the blanket and touched his hand still on my ribs. My head still throbbed from the pressurea”or not enough pressurea”and my whole body felt like I'd lost a round with Rangedge Lake, but I was okay. As long as we never did that again.
Sam's grip relaxed as I sat up a little, letting my hood and our blanket coc.o.o.n hide the sight of wings, and the pa.s.sage of blackness beneath and around us. I didn't want to see after all.
Movement behind me. Tugging on my coat and s.h.i.+rts. Hot skin slid against my waist and ribs, and the weight of Sam's head settled on my back. My heartbeat steadied with his palm on my skin. I couldn't stop the panic whenever Acid Breath dipped or changed directions, but this tactile reminder of Sam's presence helped.
We flew through snow clouds for hours, mostly gliding on a plane of air. The wind never ceased. For a while we listened to the dragons speak to one another, but the ringing in my ears was overwhelming, and the dragons seemed disinclined to converse much while we were on top of them. And with us around, in general. They seemed to fear we'd learn all their dragonish secrets.
I hoped Whit and Stef were faring better, but my thoughts s.h.i.+fted toward our inevitable descent, and what would happen when we finally reached Range.
The clouds moved northeast, away from us. Hours later, the sky turned indigo, and a brilliant line of gold light shot across the eastern horizon. The sun peeked from behind a ridge of mountains, illuminating the long curve of the earth. Mountains pierced the sky, all snow and ice and frozen beauty. And in the west, a bright glow drew my gaze: the temple in the city of Heart.
As light flooded the white land, pouring between mountains and into valleys like rivers and lakes of pure gold, I found the cavities in the ground left behind from hydrothermal eruptions. It was difficult to see them from our distance, but the fact that I could see them at alla”that they existeda”was enough to be terrifying.
Sam shouted from behind me, ”Do you see Templedark Memorial?”
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