Chapter 15
Fifteen
Amethystus
Going for a ride is the opposite of what we should be doing right now. Aster’s words echo in my mind: “They’re learning what it means to have fun again.” Fun isn’t at the forefront of my mind right now, however. They may have given up on helping the realm, but I haven’t.
The ever-present weight settled against my shoulders presses down, heavier than it’s been since we arrived in Kauri. There’s a loneliness that rises to the surface, mingling with the weight of a hundred souls all waiting on us to set them free.
I shake my head and take a step back, a flicker of anger surging through my veins.
“Trust me,” Aster adds, sensing my hesitation. “It isn’t without reason.”
Calix catches my eye, a muscle in his jaw tensing as he watches me. Blindly trusting this Undine isn’t something I’m willing to do.
“You’re new to your wyverns,” Aster urges, drawing my attention to him. “If you want to use them to your advantage, you need to learn how to connect with them—how to use them in a way Eurydice has intended. You’ve encountered battles with your beast, but you have yet to enter into war with her.
“You’re not just hurting yourself by not learning.” Aster’s voice lowers. “You’re hurting Zephyr.”
I swallow, his words hitting me square in the chest.
If there’s anything that would get me to follow him right now, it’s the possibility that my actions could ultimately lead to my wyvern being hurt.
Zephyr chose me to be her Rider, and I can’t let her down or put her in harm’s way.
Brielle was our only link to learning how to be a unit, and we can’t wait for her to be fully healed to start working on that.
Anything helps right now. We would not only be stupid to ignore their help, but negligent of our wyverns’ safety, too.
With a deep sigh, I climb up, hoping there’s more to this than just a fun little flight around the island for sightseeing. Calix does the same, both of us without saddles.
Once I’m up, I see Sidra, Orla, and Maddox atop their own wyverns. Everyone is here but Brielle.
The village Riders are still on their wyverns, the beasts’ wings stretching out and preparing for flight again.
Aster shouts, the sound echoing off the rocks behind us. In the same breath, his wyvern flares its wings outward and pushes off the ground. They only glide up enough to clear the ground, then disappear over the edge of the cliff.
Wyverns follow after them one by one, cascading over the cliffside until only my friends and I remain.
“Are we sure about following them for this ride?” Sidra asks, glancing between all of us.
I haven’t been sure about most decisions I’ve made the past month, let alone this one. We have our wyverns, and we could easily steer them back to the mainland. This place would go on without us, and we would go on without them.
But is that the wisest decision? When there’s an entire pack of Riders—seasoned Riders from the last war—that could join us in the war to come?
We don’t know what the future holds, or what this war will look like. All we can focus on is what we do know… Which isn’t much. If there’s any chance we can get them to join the fight or learn useful information from them, then we have to take it.
“Nope.” I tap Zeph’s scales at the base of her neck, and a rumble of eagerness vibrates through her throat. “But flying off this island and never looking back doesn’t exactly help us either.”
Aryth shuffles toward the edge of the cliff, his talons gripping a rock that hangs off the side. Calix twists to look at us over his shoulder.
“If anything, it’s good for us all to fly together,” he shouts. “Our fleet doesn’t have an alpha, nor have we bound ourselves to our wyverns. We lost our chance to appeal to Daimon. Now, we need to prepare ourselves to fight.”
My muscles tense. The only thing left to do is learn to fight.
With a final nod in my direction, Calix gives Aryth a tap. He takes flight, disappearing over the cliff. Before I can tell Zeph to do the same, a wyvern flies up from the edge, nose pointing up with its belly bared to us, wings spread wide and sending a rush of wind toward us.
I smile when the beast levels out, hovering while it waits for us to join.
“You guys staying here?” Calix shouts over the wind Aryth’s wings create. His gaze focuses on my left—where Sidra and Niadrus perch on the cliff’s edge. Calix winks, a smirk on his face.
Sidra gestures forward and says, “After you.”
Calix laughs and shakes his head, diving and disappearing as Aryth spirals down.
A small piece of the heaviness against my chest eases as Zephyr eagerly jumps to the edge, her weight shifting as she crouches down. From the corner of my eye, I see Sidra, Orla, and Maddox all do the same, lining up beside me.
All it takes is a small gust of wind for Zephyr to lean forward, her legs bursting off the ground as she takes flight. My vision tilts as we careen over the side, her wings tucked in tightly in a nosedive toward the sea.
Tears burn my eyes as she hurtles us through the air, her excitement beginning to mingle with my own. My stomach drops as we free-fall, the sea approaching at a blinding speed.
“Zeph!” I scream just as her wings pop out, sending us to a screeching halt to glide above the ocean. Salty water catches on her legs, spraying my calves and thighs.
It takes me a minute to catch my breath, my chest heaving as my vision adjusts to the abrupt change in speed. I look up, finding the rest of my fleet already leveled out above and watching us in amusement. Of course Zephyr was the only one to free-fall all the way to the ocean.
But I don’t have time to be annoyed, because when Zeph takes us up to the rest of the group, my breath lodges in my throat.
The sun has just touched the horizon, casting rays of golden light onto the water below. It mixes with soft pinks and purples, the hues refracting off puffy clouds and casting a gentle shimmer in the air.
My fleet soars toward the mass of wyverns just ahead of us, keeping close behind, weaving around each other as the sun sinks further and further. Small white birds fly beside us, their little wings flapping ten times the speed of Zeph’s.
For one fleeting moment, I let myself play pretend.
I imagine we truly are doing this for fun—a sunset ride above the seas.
In this imaginary world, there is no Moros, no Vidaris.
There isn’t a prophecy hanging over my head, nor is there fear of what being goddess-forged means for me.
Zeph isn’t here for war, and there won’t be a day she’s called back to Zenovia.
My chest tightens as I picture Graylen waiting for me at the cliffside, grumpy that Zephyr wouldn’t let him fly with us. And a burst of amusement would shoot down the bond from Zeph, all too eager to do it just to annoy him.
But then she would circle back around, letting him—and no one else—hop on her back to sit behind me as she glides us into the sunset.
It’s a pretty dream. But that’s all it’ll ever be.