Chapter Thirty-Eight. When Flying for Your Life
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
WHEN FLYING FOR YOUR LIFE
FARREN
Like bugs to a flame, the men swarm Nity and me. A Rimback has the muscle and the power, but Sprinters always have the speed. My five-minute head start narrows to nothing as bronze and copper dragons fly into my peripheral. Trying to flank us. Or not trying. Flanking us.
I could fly toward the wedding, confirm everyone’s safety, and get help.
But as much as I don’t want to be alone in this, going anywhere inland will put more lives at stake.
Besides, like with a tournament, water doesn’t kill like rocky cliffside.
I’m already unsteady enough, clinging onto Nity’s back.
A tranquilizer shot from a crossbow zooms past me.
We curve downward. A grappling hook tries to weave around Nity’s legs.
We dart upward. The biggest net I’ve ever seen blankets the sky.
I stand, remove a forearm of gold and shoot the metal upward like a knife.
The silver-lined netting sags and falls, cut in half.
They’re literally throwing every poacher tool in existence. Somehow, we aren’t tied up yet.
And somehow, I haven’t fallen off.
Then the spears start.
Nity’s wings work double time. I duck my head and lay across the knife-like scales beneath me, my fingers straining and aching as I try to hold on as she rolls. A torrent of metal cascades upon us, mostly hitting her hind legs and tail. All bouncing off her gold.
Then a voice from below bellows the words I feared the most. “Aim for the chest! She’s shedding! Aim for the chest.”
They’ve seen her bare spots. They know she’s vulnerable. And if they’re smart, they’ll also know—
“That means we’ve got some baby golden dragons to find, men,” the leader calls out.
Whoops erupt around me like dogs hungry and excited for the chase. My every muscle feels like a snarled rope, twisting and clenching. My throat in particular chokes on the knot clogging my airway. The babies. They know about our babies.
Something thumps beneath me and Nity curves upward like … like she’s been hit in the stomach.
Wings fold in on me and I know what Nity plans next. “Nity, don’t dive. I won’t be able to—”
She dives. I close my eyes and focus on holding on for dear life.
Shrieks engulf the air beneath me as Nity takes her talons and scrapes a copper Sprinter down their wing.
Metal grinds, flesh rips, and I’m suddenly staring at a wing so shredded it’s practically gone.
They fall, both dragon and rider, a tumbling mess of metal and blood.
The rider who spotted her shedding, he’s gone …
Eight. Now it’s eight to one.
As Nity spreads her wings to catch the air to stop her sharp descent, spears shoot at us from the side.
I sit up and twirl their spears back at them.
When that’s not enough, I stand. Every weapon, every metal thrown our way I craft.
This is what humans were meant to do when we learned how to control a dragon’s metal.
Not steal from dragons. Not kill dragons.
We were supposed to be their partner, fight alongside them. This is why the bond was created.
Without my glasses my awareness for every metal and metal-coated dragon heightens, a sixth sense only amplified by my bond with Nity. Her power is unimaginable and I’m wielding it.
I redirect a silver spear meant for a killing blow.
Throw it into the ocean where they belong.
Three more stream from my right and I block them all.
One I catch and hurl back toward the closest poacher to my right.
Metal fastens around the man’s torso and then I connect it to the pommel of his saddle, anchoring him face down on his dragon.
Seven to one.
Another spear is thrown, this one right at me, and Nity’s wing raises, bashing the weapon out of the sky.
In the next stroke, she whacks outward at the poacher with the sharp tips of her wing like the edge of a sword.
He flies from his seat with a spray of blood and a scream.
He’s dead. I’m so scared I’m not even distraught.
Self-preservation encases me like metaled scales.
But dread washes over me knowing what this means, what it always means when a dragon hurts a human.
The leader rises into my line of sight. The only silver-plated Sprinter among them. “Bring her down,” he demands. “Kill her before she kills any more of us.”
There it is. Human “self-defense” as if they didn’t walk into her cave planning to hurt Nity to begin with.
“No,” I whisper as dread fills me. Please, no.
I’ve never begged for anything more. The six of them could turn away, fly away.
And hundreds more would flock here looking for the golden dragon.
The thought lodges in my head like a wicked seed.
If we don’t end this today, get her safe, and then get her away from here, there will never be another day of peace.
Nity beats her wings into action, moving us farther out to sea. The lead poacher stays with us, closing in. I think he means to jump onto Nity’s back. All I can see is the vicious hatred in his eyes as he carves his way closer.
I reach out to craft his Sprinter away, but spears rain down from the other riders and I direct my attention to the projectiles. They miss Nity by a few feet. It’s a distraction. I swivel back to the leader and he’s flying right beside me.
“You are dead, little bird,” the leader says as he rises to his knees. A sword of silver blooms in his hand.
Bang!
Metal crunches like a car accident. Another silver dragon tackles the leader’s dragon. Hort! James and Hort tangle as they fall through the air. Nity banks right and I crash sideways before I can see or sense what happens next.
“James!” I scream as I try to scramble back up.
Below us, the two dragons roar and screech at one another as they fight, Hort’s cry louder to my ears.
What are they doing here? They should be with the hatchlings.
I finally climb back to my knees and scour the dark skyline.
But night has finally fallen. Only the gleam of moonlight on metal illuminates the dragons around me.
James doesn’t know, I realize. He doesn’t know the poachers have discovered the hatchlings’ existence.
The other riders show their loyalty as they swoop in to help, mobbing James five to one as Nity heads in the opposite direction.
“Nity, wait. Please, he needs us,” I shout. But she charges ahead, devouring the sky. “Nity!” I scream.