Chapter 17 #2
Lucien and Sevrin are up in a flash, both instantly competitive.
Gareth sighs, resigned to our antics, but he falls in behind us as we dash across the plateau.
The grass is soft underfoot, springy and cool.
The air whistles around us, and the sweet scent intensifies.
We’re here, with nothing to do, and our beautiful woman at our side. It’s like a dream come true.
We’re halfway to the trees’ edge before I look back.
Ebron is already airborne, Sylvara and Verdraxa and Nythera flanking him, their massive forms blotting out the sun for a moment before they disappear into the dragon-thick sky.
There’s a flash of silver scales, then a ripple as hundreds of dragons take up the chase.
I wonder what the dragon version of a town meeting looks like.
Probably a lot of roaring and intimidation displays. I wish them luck.
The rest of us run like kids, breathless, laughing as we break through the trees and start running along the cliff’s edge, the water far below.
Harper pulls ahead, long legs eating up the distance.
Lucien cheats, shoving me sideways. I retaliate, and we both nearly tumble over the edge into the misty abyss near the waterfall.
The waterfall is even bigger than I remembered. It thunders down a black stone cliff, shooting rainbows through the air. At the base, a deep blue pool foams and swirls, surrounded by smooth rocks.
“Last one in is the loser!” Harper yells, and before I can stop her, she dives straight over the edge, arms out like wings.
My heart leaps into my throat. Then I see her, far below, a tiny figure plunging into the pool beneath us, and a second later her head pops up, hair plastered to her skull. She lets out a war whoop that echoes off the cliffs.
Lucien’s next, and then Gareth, and then Sevrin. I don’t really want to jump, but I decide to, because it would be embarrassing not to.
The air rushes past, cold and pure. I hit the water like a rock, plunging so deep I wonder if I’ll ever surface.
When I do, the four of them are already treading water, laughing, shivering.
Even Sevrin, who looks like he hasn’t swum since he was eight, is grinning, his face painting running just the smallest bit.
Harper floats on her back, eyes closed. “This is what it’s supposed to be,” she says softly. “All of us. Together.”
I look at the faces around me, and realize she’s right. For the first time in my life, it feels like everything might actually work out. Like I’m somewhere I belong, with people who love me.
Love… me.
I kick water at Lucien, and the splash fight is on. For a while, we’re just people, not dragon riders or royalty or the last hope for the dragon species.
Above us, the sky is a wild tangle of dragons, soaring and diving. Ebron’s massive silhouette leads the pack, wings wide, a titan among legends.
And for a moment, hanging weightless in the blue waters, I think: maybe we’ll all make it.
Harper keeps dunking Sevrin, who pretends to drown until she panics, at which point he pops up like a demented dolphin, howling with laughter.
Lucien tries to organize synchronized swimming and nearly gets his teeth knocked out by a flying foot.
Gareth sits on a rock, legs in the water, pale skin glowing like marble, but even he cracks a smile every time someone surfaces with hair plastered to their face.
The water is absurdly blue, and everything smells wild and sharp and alive. I can see why the dragons chose this place for their home. Even the air seems lighter here.
By the time the sun starts angling lower in the sky, we’re all sprawled on the mossy bank, skin and clothes drying in the breeze, hair fanned out in untidy halos.
Harper’s curled up between me and Gareth, with Lucien using my thigh as a pillow and Sevrin’s head tilted back to watch the dragons spiral overhead.
Somewhere up there, Ebron and his mates are negotiating with a huge chunk of the dragon population of the world. I hope he’s more convincing than Gareth at a debate. Given that Ebron is as subtle as a battering ram, I bet it’s a lot of dramatic roaring and tail-thrashing, but hey, whatever works.
A pair of baby dragons, little more than overgrown lizards, come scampering down the rocks, squealing and wrestling. Harper sits up instantly, eyes shining. “Look at them! Oh, they’re so cute!”
One of the babies faceplants in the mud, then pops up, shakes its head, and resumes biting its sibling’s tail. Gareth grins. “Remind you of anyone?”
Lucien, eyes closed, doesn’t miss a beat. “If you say me, I’ll smother you in your sleep.”
“Definitely you,” Gareth says.
Harper laughs and turns, resting her hand on my chest. “It’s so peaceful here. I don’t want to go back.”
“Me neither,” I admit, running my fingers through her hair. “But I guess we don’t really get a choice.”
Lucien opens one eye. “What would you do, if we could stay? For real?”
Harper’s quiet, then says, “I’d build a little cottage with you guys and make it a home.” She bites her lip, then glances up at me. “And maybe have a kid. Or two.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. For a second I can’t breathe. I don’t know why. Maybe because I want kids too, but I’d never really wanted that before. Not with the way we were raised. Not with what’s expected of us.
Gareth looks at her, solemn as ever. “You’d be a good mother.”
Sevrin sits up and wraps Harper in a bear hug. “We’d be the best family in all the world.”
“I’d settle for ‘functional,’” Lucien says, sitting up and raking a hand through his wet hair. “Imagine what a Harper-Alaric combination would be like.”
“Unstoppable,” I say. “Terrifying to their enemies. Capable of complete destruction if pushed.”
Sevrin grins, eyes crinkling. “I want a daughter who breaks noses.”
Harper smiles back, and for a moment I can actually see it. A little girl with her grin and my stubborn chin, running wild through castle corridors, making the tutors cry. It makes my chest ache, but in a good way.
“I can imagine a daughter like Harper and I,” Gareth says, thoughtfully. “She would be strong. She could command an army of dragon riders.”
Harper shakes her head. “You guys and your all-powerful children. They could just be happy.”
“Being happy would be enough,” Lucien tells her.
“So, I guess we’ll have two kids,” Harper says.
“Or seven,” Gareth suggests.
“Seven? My uterus would explode!”
“Five could work,” Lucien says, grinning.
She groans. “Do you know what that would do to my vagina? You guys try squeezing a watermelon out of your weiner holes.”
All of us wince and cross our legs.
She laughs. “Maybe three or four. I could see that.”
I stroke her face. “Three or four we could handle.”
We stay like that for a while, just talking. About what it would be like, to be a real family. About where we’d live, what we’d teach our kids, whether dragons make good babysitters. Lucien argues that they do. Gareth says only if you don’t mind them having singed hair.
Even Sevrin gets into it, eyes brighter than usual, proposing a schedule where every child rotates dragon-riding lessons between the four of us. I wonder if he knows how much dragon riding means to us. To all of us. Maybe he does, and he pretends not to wish for his own dragon.
Eventually, the sun starts to dip, and the sky explodes into colors. Harper stands, stretches. “We should find somewhere to sleep. I’m not going back to the plateau; the dragons will be busy for hours.”
“We should try a cave,” Lucien says. “Less wind. More privacy.”
Harper gives him a sly look. “Privacy for what, exactly?”
Lucien shrugs, eyes all innocence. “In case Gareth starts snoring.”
“He only snores when he’s happy,” I say.
Gareth tousles Harper’s hair. “I am happy, for the record.”
We wander along the edge of the waterfall, past spiky trees with bark like gold and flowers that seem to glow from within. There’s a cave not far from the pool, high and dry, with a bed of moss and a little trickle of water running down one wall. It’s perfect.
We settle in, arranging ourselves in a tangle of limbs and laughter.
Harper flops down first, then pulls me with her.
Lucien slides in on her other side, propping his head on his hand.
Gareth wedges himself at her feet, sprawling as only a man his size can, and Sevrin settles a little apart, leaning against the cave wall, arms folded.
Harper stretches, then curls into me. “If I fall asleep, promise you’ll wake me before dawn.”
“Why?”
“I want to see the sunrise from here.” She yawns, nuzzling into my shoulder. “I bet it’s insane.”
Lucien pokes my knee. “Tell us a story, Alaric. A good one. I can’t sleep unless someone talks.”
I think for a second, then tell them about the first time I rode Nythera.
How I almost fell off, and how she saved my ass at the last second by grabbing my pants in her teeth and hauling me back onto her neck.
Harper’s eyes are huge, and she keeps gasping at the scary parts, but by the end she’s laughing.
“Our dragons are always saving us,” she says.
“They’re very invested in our continued existence,” I say. “Probably because we make sure they’re never bored.”
The sky outside fades from orange to dark blue. Stars appear, one by one, and somewhere overhead, dragons roar their ancient songs.
Harper’s eyes are closed, but I know she’s awake. She’s smiling.
I think about what she said, about wanting a family, and I know, really know, that it’s not just possible, it’s inevitable. We’re here, all of us. We made it.
And for once in my life, I don’t want anything else.