Chapter 33 #2
I close my eyes and exhale past pinched lips, inhale through my nose, repeat over and over before I trust myself to aim for another lip. To shift my weight, push up, peep over the edge—
My breath snags at the sight of Líri coiled atop the plinth, glittering in the golden light. Majestic.
Beautiful.
Wispy, translucent clouds sheet over her body, her luminous wing swept over her face like an elegant shield against the sun’s long rays.
Sun that highlights the puckered scars mottling her membranes.
A permanent echo of Rekk’s horrific torture, there despite the miraculous work Agni did to close the wounds.
There’s a jolt within me that turns my blood icy as I study the scars, one at a time, pushing down memories of her visible discomfort.
Cradling those of her nuzzling into my lap, finding quiet solace in my presence.
And I steal a moment to mourn—face twisting in unison with this crushed feeling in my chest.
If only my damage hadn’t gotten in the way of everything we could’ve been. I could’ve stayed with her until she was strong and ready, then flown with her to hunt Rekk down.
That’s what she deserved. All of me. Not the scraps of my bloodlusting whim.
I’m so sorry, Líri …
I squeeze my eyes shut, stuff the choke of sadness back down where it belongs, and tame my heartbeat. Then I flatten my hand atop the pillar and push my weight forward, lift my leg, set my knee on the steady surface—
Her wing snaps down.
Wide, unfathomable eyes consume me, every glimmer in those inky orbs like a vivid full stop to mark my impending slaughter.
She snarls.
I swear, brutally aware that I have only one chance at this. That if she somehow gets airborne without me, this was all for nothing.
Our movements blur.
Líri uncoils in the same instance as I manage to get both feet on the landing, dipping sideways just in time to avoid being flung off by her stretching wings.
She leaps.
So do I.
For a moment, we’re flying in synchrony—two separate entities plummeting through the clouds, my guts lodging somewhere up my throat.
Until I collide with her back.
All the air smacks from my lungs, and I tumble sideways, snatching anything I can get my hands on. Managing to tangle my fingers around one of the ropes tethered to the saddle, I tighten my grip just in time, dangling like a piece of meat on a string.
Líri roars, lashing her body against the air as I hold on with everything I have, the tendons in my hand cramping against the strain—split moments away from losing grip.
I release a feral, teeth-bared scream, swing my other arm up, blindly snatching. My fingers hook the rope right before Líri tilts, shooting skyward so abruptly my insides almost blast out my ass.
She powers up in pulsing heaves that bash me against her flank, making it almost impossible to clamber on her saddle. But little does she realize, that’s not what I’m trying to do.
Teeth gritted, I scale the rope in slow but steady increments, timing each shift with the thump of her wings.
My arm, back, and shoulder muscles scream for relief as I battle for every inch I win against the harsh twist of fibers, until I’m high enough to reach for the girth strap bound across her chest, glimpsing the hole Rekk made with his spur.
Struck with a rabid surge of strength, I swing—one, two, three times before I manage to wedge my fingers beneath the strap. Enough grip that I trust myself to let go of the rope, lash my left arm across her chest and—
Snatch the buckle.
I steal a moment to catch my breath, then pour all my strength into my right arm, keeping somewhat poised while I wiggle my left hand farther along … finally able to get my fingers on the straps.
To begin unthreading them from the eyelets.
Only once all three are loose—now just tethered by the pins punched through—do I breathe a little easier. Knowing this is right despite the thick ache of sadness in my throat.
Then I wrench the first strap free.
Though Líri continues to spear skyward, I become aware of her neck bending.
Of her eyes on me as I jerk the second strap, releasing it.
Gripping hold of the third and final one, I look into her gloomy, glitter-kissed eyes—her face much closer than I’d anticipated.
Close enough for me to peer into the fathomless depth of her stare.
Something that feels as though I’m already falling …
Just not in the way I’d expected.
We break through the clouds, into the weak rays of golden light, a smile spreading across my face. Because I promised Líri I’d look after her. That nobody would ever hurt her again. And Creators hear me, I meant it.
Even if it means saving her from myself.
“Be free, Líri.”
I yank out the final pin and release the strap, feeling the girth belt slither free, Rekk’s saddle coming loose. The final remnants of him falling away.
Taking me with it.
Líri opens her maw as though she’s about to blow a flame. Instead, she releases a pitched lament …
As the cloud swallows me whole.