Chapter 20 #2
That finally gets his attention. One tawny dragon eye flicks in my direction, and I stand up in my seat, hair snapping in the wind like a flag, just so Jori can get a good look at me. Recognition speedily alights in his eye, which is when I sit my ass back down and fly like my life depends on it.
Jori roars at me, and I flip him the bird, because it’s about damn time.
My flier screams through the sky, and have to squint my eyes to see as water streams steadily out of them.
I instantly regret throwing my helmet, especially since I can’t hear shit other than the ominous sound of dragon wings snapping quickly in pursuit of my stupid martyr ass.
I take a page out of the book of the dragons I’ve been observing all morning and drop my flier into a dive so gravity can get to work on making it go even faster.
Parts begin to fall off as I go. Normally this would be cause for concern, but it’s serving as an unexpectedly useful shrapnel deterrent, so a win is a win.
Jori keeps a measured distance after taking a fender to the eye, and I get the distinct impression he’s not really trying to catch me so much as keep me in sight until the big guns arrive.
Through teary, wind-whipped eyes, I search the rocky incline for the markers that identify the entrance to the caves.
“Come on . . . come on . . . I know you’re here . . .” I murmur as Jori draws even closer.
This is going to come down to seconds—less than, probably.
I furiously scout the barren terrain as the whine of the engine located right beneath my ass turns into a full-blown scream.
The flier can blow up for all I care. Just as long as the explosion thrusts me in the direction of the cave’s entrance, I’m good.
I finally spot it, a frame of faded white rock that marks the entry into a maze of crystalline caves.
With zero hesitation, I aim right for it.
Jori’s right there with me, until he seems to realize that I’m diving headlong into a sheer rock wall, and the only part of it that isn’t going to hurt is too small for his gargantuan form to fit through.
Jori hesitates, and that’s exactly the lead time I need to go tearing into the cave, giving the dragon no choice but to pull up to keep from crashing into the ridgeline.
“Oomph,” I grunt when the front of my already-battered sandcycle clips a towering crystal pillar just inside the cave’s entrance. I go spinning, and my chest slams into the handlebars, sending a shock wave all the way down my spine before the rest of me goes tumbling off.
“Nailed it,” I croak, from where I’m sprawled out on the gravelly ground once I finally stop skidding.
I give myself a moment to let the healing get a jump start on things before I try to peel myself off the cave floor.
My gaze dances across the lofty ceiling, taking in the breathtaking clusters of crystals dangling from it like stunning chandeliers Mother Nature picked out and personally hung.
The light streaming in through narrow holes high above paints the walls in dazzling hues of purples and blues.
The center is filled with all kinds of crystal pillars, many as big as towering trees.
The crystals have smooth surfaces that gleam with pinks and peaches that deepen into reds and purples depending on the light of day.
The smaller clusters are still bigger than most drakes, boast of blues and greens, and the pretty little crystalline bouquets that fill up all the spaces in between gleam like stunning sunsets with edges sharper than most blades.
I played here a lot when I was younger, drawn to the beauty, the quiet, and the danger.
There’s so much about it that’s familiar, and yet so much has changed in the years since I was here last. Resigned, I sit up and get to work.
A rib quickly snaps into place, but the sting of it fades as my affinity hurries to heal me.
I gently jog deeper into the warren of crystals, stripping out of my riding gear and chucking pieces of it down several winding paths as I go.
Carefully, I climb to the hidden higher levels of the caves, scaling the walls until I get to a familiar flat, gemlike stone that’s shining brightly with the early morning sun.
I study the pulley system attached to it, and while rusted, it looks like it should still work.
I pick my way over to the levers, and with a grunt and some serious effort, I finally get them to budge just enough to angle the sun-kissed crystal just right.
The bright rays bounce off other gleaming gems and create the exact effect I need.
There’s no sign of Jori. I figure he’s waiting for backup before daring to enter.
Meaning I’m back to that hurry-up-and-wait holding pattern that I love so much.
It’s like I’m trapped in the bottom of a draining hourglass and each second that passes promises to drown me in its depths unless I find a way to break free.
The problem is, I’ve run the numbers, and as much as I initially planned to run, to track down my Flight and get them to safety at all costs, I realized that my odds of success are infinitely higher if I have The Horde backing me on all fronts.
Finding my Flight is a priority, but so is figuring out why the Syphons can’t reveal and unmasking the traitors in our midst. All of which is infinitely more possible if we have an inside man in Four Tiers—or, better yet, an inside woman.
If I can get back to King’s Keep on reasonable terms and rebuild some trust, I could start laying the groundwork for the others.
It would allow us to truly divide and conquer, which is the conclusion I arrived at last night.
However, Aeson will never trust me coming back to him willingly, and the Syphons will never trust me aligning with The Horde willingly. Which is why I’m here improvising.
Silently, I pick my way back down through the caves to test the light and see if it’s working.
I step behind one of my favorite crystals, the one I’ve always thought looked like a big door.
Enslee and I used to argue over it regularly back when we were kids fighting for every scrap of happiness and normalcy we could find.
I look out at the gleaming clusters and pillars scattered haphazardly all around, and I place myself on the circle etched into the ground. I look up, and exhilaration detonates like a racket bomb inside me. Every surface of the gleaming crystals in front of me shines with my reflection.
It’s like a mirror maze funhouse. Enslee discovered the effect one time when we were playing tag in here with Boshle and Kamay.
I smile and my army of reflections smile too.
I step away from the circle and the crystal door, and all of my reflections instantly disappear.
There are several other spots in the caves capable of this infinity-mirror effect, and it feels like the perfect place to decide, once and for all, if Aeson is capable of truly seeing?. .?. me.
“Here,” a rumbled declaration sounds in the distance.
The cave’s acoustics carry the sound, and I recognize Karis’s voice. I wondered how he was doing after the wards attacked him. Tove acted quick enough, and I saw him chasing us through the scarafids and the gauntlet, but it’s good to hear him all the same.
“Her gloves,” Karis identifies, and then the crunch of a shattered windscreen under several people’s boots tells me he’s passing my little fender bender at the entrance.
“Whoa,” someone else marvels, but it’s too quiet to identify the owner, and my stomach tightens with anticipation.
They move like shadows into the maze. I can’t tell how many there are exactly. I’m tempted to find a vantage point that will let me do more than just listen, but I’m not dumb enough to press my luck.
I’m here, hiding and slinking around, because I need to assess what I’m dealing with before I fully commit to my improvised plan.
If they’re just going to lock me up after they find me, then it won’t work.
If Aeson’s written me off completely, if he’ll block access to the things I need out of anger and petty revenge, then I need to stick with the Syphons.
A deep, menacing rumble abruptly fills the caves, and just like before, I instantly know who it belongs to. Goose bumps crawl up my arms, and alarm skitters down my spine, while unease parks itself at my nape.
Aeson is here, and from the rage roiling in his guttural growl, I need to get the fuck out of here?.?.?. now.