26. Jerrid
JERRID
Dragon’s vision blurred as the blue lights of Eroth loomed in the distance. He blinked blearily, trying to keep them in his line of sight, but his eyelids kept drooping of their own accord.
He’d flown through the day and halfway through the night and only stopped twice to relieve himself and drink most of his water. He’d never pushed himself this hard.
The only thing driving him onward now were thoughts of Ava and the girls and what horrors they might be facing in this dreaded darkness. If he could get to Eroth, find the prince, and maybe take an hour of rest…
Maybe he could get back before the next nightfall.
It won’t be enough rest.
The thought came almost unbidden to his mind, Jerrid’s whisper so weak it was barely discernible over the heaving of his breaths.
He peeled his eyes open yet again and focused on the jagged shape of the wood palace beginning to take shape in the sky. He should probably set down outside of town and shift before returning to the palace.
The last thing he wanted was for some trigger-happy elf citizen to take a shot at him with a crossbow.
He swooped lower to the tree line to find a small meadow as close to the edge of the city as possible. Below him, a small grove of trees curled around a lonely-looking cottage surrounded by gardens. A light burned brightly in one of the windows. It looked familiar.
Dragon circled it, trying to remember if this was the wedding cottage he had visited before their ill-fated trek into the Shadewood. Before Haryk battled the shadow the first time, and Ava disappeared.
Had the tides of fate finally turned in his favor? What if the prince and his new bride were still at the wedding cottage?
He had to try.
Swooping lower, he made another pass over the glen and skimmed the treetops until he found a good place to land. Lumbering into the shelter of the trees, he shook himself and tried to initiate the shift.
The night wind slid over his scales as he hunkered between the trunks of the trees, reaching out to Jerrid.
He was so exhausted that he fell asleep before the shift finished.
Jerrid inhaled a gasp of air as Dragon all but thrust him back into their body. Agony sliced through his bones. Everything was out of proportion, his body stuck between phases.
“You haven’t finished,” he growled at Dragon, but he received no response.
It was on him then.
What was it Dragon had told him? Don’t try so hard.
He exhaled deeply and relaxed into the shift, imagining himself shrinking and reshaping. Scales receding, wings snaking into his back, body rising on two feet. He imagined himself still wearing a skin of scale trousers. If Ava could manage partial shifts, surely he could as well.
He opened his eyes when he became aware of his bare foot pressing against a sharp stick. Moving his leg, he stared down at himself. At his arms of smooth skin, his lower half covered in trousers made of dragon scale that ended at his ankles. If he hadn’t been so exhausted, he would have grinned.
Next time he would have to add boots.
His satchel hung awkwardly around his neck, so he swung it to lie flat along his side before jogging toward the cottage, hoping against hope that he would find the Prince of Gelaira inside.
The blue flame continued to flicker in the window as he trotted through the gardens and up to the back door. Making a fist, he banged on the door as loudly as he could.
“Your Highness? Prince Haryk? Are you inside?” He banged again, not caring if he shook the house down.
Footsteps pounded behind the door moments before a pretty elvish lass with golden hair spilling over her shoulders wrenched it open. She was wearing a bathrobe of midnight blue belted over a nightgown.
He averted his gaze and inclined his head. “Lady Persis, I am so sorry to disturb you, but I need to speak to Prince Haryk immediately.”
“Oh, Jerrid, I am so glad to see you,” the princess said, reaching to grab his arm and tug him into the cottage. “But where is Ava?”
Her voice hitched and faltered over the question as he lifted his head to meet and hold her gaze.
“That’s why I’m here, Princess. She’s in danger. We’re all in danger. The Nightmare Shadow… It isn’t dead.”
The color drained from her face as a tall, gray-skinned elf appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, tugging a tunic over his head. He walked slowly forward, finding his way through other senses than the sight he did not possess.
“Who is it, Persis?” he asked as he came alongside her.
She reached out to take his hand and guide him closer. “It’s Jerrid. He’s come with news. I think you need to start at the beginning, Jerrid.”
“There isn’t time for that,” Jerrid growled, leaning against the doorframe.
He began to relay an abbreviated form of his tale as the princess pressed a cup of water into his hand. When he finished that, she handed him a chunk of bread and several cold fowl legs. He didn’t bother with manners, talking and eating as quickly as he could.
Prince Haryk’s shoulders drooped as Jerrid fell silent.
“Well, this is a jolly mess, isn’t it?” he muttered to his young wife.
Jerrid tried not to watch the way their hands clung to one another. He hated himself for interrupting their honeymoon with this terrible news.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness. I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t desperate. But we don’t stand a chance of defeating this thing on our own. Every second we delay could cost lives.”
“You did the right thing,” the prince said. “Persis, I’ll need you to go to the palace and let them know where I’ve gone.”
She whipped her head toward him, mouth falling open. “But I want to come with you—”
“You can’t.” His tone left no room for argument, but the elf princess’s expression darkened murderously.
“I know what you’re thinking, but I need you here.
Without your magic, you won’t be able to help me.
I will only be worried about your safety.
And that worry could cost other lives. It isn’t fair to them, Persis. ”
This did the trick. Princess Persis’s gaze fell to the floor, her cheeks flushed but her expression resigned. It took her a moment to collect herself.
“I understand. Do you need supplies for the journey? How long will you be gone?”
Jerrid finished picking meat from the bones of the fowl she’d given him and nodded. “I’ll need to refill the water sack, but I should have enough provisions to get us back. It won’t be fancy, though.”
Prince Haryk, who had stooped to tug on his boots, snorted. “I don’t need fancy. Persis, can you find me my jacket? I don’t remember where I left it.”
She returned moments later, pulling a finely embroidered coat onto his arms. He tugged her toward him and planted a firm kiss on her mouth.
“Come back,” she whispered.
The prince said nothing in return, trailing his hand down her cheek before he turned toward the door. “Lead me to the dragon, Jerrid.”
Jerrid faltered on his way through the threshold. “Oh. About that. There’s something I should probably tell you…”
The prince took the news about Jerrid’s shifter heritage surprisingly well, asking no questions, just nodding that he understood.
With greater problems on his mind, the fact that a dragon shifter had snuck into his kingdom unannounced probably didn’t warrant the anger it would have under other circumstances.
The flight back to the ruins took longer than the flight to Eroth.
Jerrid kept falling asleep, and the prince would have to awaken him and make him land for fifteen-minute naps. He refused to sleep longer than that, desperate to get back to the camp and make sure the shadow had not overrun things in his long absence.
He couldn’t stop thinking about Ava trying to face that monstrous creature alone.
Prince Haryk stayed silent on their journey, speaking only when absolutely necessary. Jerrid appreciated that because he didn’t have the energy to fly and talk at the same time. He couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that Hel was about to release her wrath on them all.
He wasn’t going to make it in time. Ava and the girls were all going to be dead by the time they arrived.
Everything was about to go wrong.
Sunset arrived on the second day, and they were still hours away from their destination. Jerrid panted and desperately dragged air into his aching lungs. His wings felt as if they were going to fall off his body.
“You need to rest,” Prince Haryk called to him.
Jerrid ignored him, driving harder against the wind, forcing himself forward. Again and again and again.
“You need to rest!” the prince shouted again, louder this time. “I order you to land, soldier.”
Jerrid growled and shook his head, but even that slight motion sent a quiver through his body that knocked him out of rhythm. He flapped frantically to stabilize himself.
The trees rose toward him as he fought to keep aloft, the prince clinging to the saddle. They plunged into the treetops, branches all around them. Jerrid’s claws dug into the trunk of the tree in a desperate attempt to halt their descent.
They skidded to a halt in the branches, hidden among the tree leaves. The prince clung to his neck, breathing heavily.
“That was not pleasant,” he grunted. “How far did we fall?”
Jerrid glanced around, straining his long neck to get his bearings. “Not far. We’re in the treetops.”
He shifted and tried to figure out the best way to get them out of the trees. Going back up wasn’t ideal, but neither was climbing all the way down to the ground. They were still dangerously high in the air.
“Hang on.”
He scrabbled down the trunk of the tree, smashing through branches and shredding leaves in his wake.
The prince said nothing, but Jerrid could hear his fast breathing.
They hit the ground with a jarring thud.
Jerrid growled and shook himself, annoyed by all the cuts and bruises. He’d lost more than a few scales, too.
“Are we on the ground?” the prince asked.
Jerrid growled an affirmative as he collapsed into the undergrowth, too weary to move. The prince detached himself from the harness and slid to the ground.
He patted Jerrid’s neck. “Take a nap. I’ll keep watch.”
Jerrid shifted back into his human form and fell asleep before he had time to argue.
Prince Haryk prodded him awake a while later, dragging him out of disjointed dreams. He’d been dreaming about trying to find Ava in a decrepit tower—he could hear her calling out for him, but no matter where he looked, he couldn’t seem to find her.
She was always two steps ahead of him, hidden in the shadows.
Jerrid dragged himself to his feet, scrubbing at his eyes. “How long was I asleep?”
The words hurt, his throat raw and irritated. He took the water skin the prince offered him and eagerly swallowed.
“About three hours. I would have let you sleep longer, but I have a feeling we need to get moving.”
Jerrid slanted him a look, wondering what he meant by that. What kind of feeling? Was he prone to premonitions, or was this just his nerves making him want to get back into the air?
Either way, it didn’t make Jerrid feel any better.
“I’m glad you woke me,” he muttered as he secured the lid onto the skin and shoved it into the satchel. “We probably shouldn’t have even lingered this long.”
He shook himself and called for the shift. It came more easily this time, his mind too weary to put up a fight. The prince took several quick steps backward as Jerrid’s body grew and lengthened, taking up more space.
“Sorry,” he growled as he hunkered down to let the prince approach. “I didn’t mean to push you.”
The prince held out a hand until he bumped into Jerrid’s side. His agile fingers ran over the harness and down to the bootstrap. It took him a minute to haul himself onto the saddle, but not nearly as long as the last time.
They were getting the hang of this.
A broken shifter and a blind prince. Some rescue party they were making.
But hopefully, it would be enough.
“Did you secure the buckle?” Jerrid asked as he stood and tilted his head toward the treetops.
“Yes,” the prince replied, his legs tightening around the saddle. “How are you going to get back up there?”
Jerrid eyed the thick canopy above them. He had no idea. They couldn’t go back up the way they had come down—falling was a lot easier than climbing. And dragons weren’t built for climbing trees.
“We’re going to have to find an opening,” he growled in frustration. “I’ll head north, and hopefully we’ll find a break in the trees.”
He lumbered into the woods, trampling rotting logs and brittle weeds as he went. A knot tightened in his stomach as he resisted the urge to take flight immediately, but the blind prince wouldn’t be able to spot thick tree limbs about to decapitate him on the way up.
He didn’t know if his urgency was just anxiety or some strange dragon sense he hadn’t yet learned to hone…but he agreed with the prince.
They needed to get to Ava, and quickly.
They’d already been gone far too long, and he dreaded to think what had been happening in his extended absence.
He forced his legs to move faster as he smashed through the undergrowth, plowing over small saplings and knocking aside fallen trees in his haste.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that the hourglass had run out of sand.