Chapter 26 Elowen
ELOWEN
Theron’s Drake looks different when he’s bigger. He’s more intimidating, for one thing—bigger than a house, with a head larger than my whole body. I really think if I hadn’t met him first in his smaller form, I might have fainted or run away.
Luckily, I remember how sweet and kind he is and I’m able to hold my ground when Theron Shifts again—this time into the huge version of his Drake.
We’re out of town, of course—he can’t Shift within the limits. He would frighten his neighbors and customers. So we walk together to the outskirts of the Old Forest and once we’re out of sight, Theron hands me the heavy bag of supplies, takes several large steps back, and then Shifts.
The change is fast but still breathtaking. One moment he’s a man…and the next the massive Drake stands before me, silver scales glinting in the sunlight, wings folded tight against his enormous body.
The huge creature lowers his head to look at me and I find myself going weak in the knees as a golden eye—easily the size of a dinner plate—studies me.
“Hey,” I say softly, lifting a hand to him. He could eat me in one bite in this form but I’m not afraid—well, not much.
My faith in him is rewarded when he snorts—very gently—and rubs the side of his massive snout against my outstretched palm.
“Good boy,” I murmur, stroking the sleek silver scales. They’re warm beneath my fingers, almost silky. “Aw…you’re just a big sweetheart, aren’t you?”
He huffs again—a low rumble of sound—and then lowers himself to the ground. One huge foreleg stretches out, bending so I can climb up on his back.
“Thank you,” I tell him, though I’m not sure if he understands the words or just the tone.
Balancing the bag of provisions, I step onto his foreleg and carefully climb up, settling myself between two of his long dorsal spines. The ridges give me something to brace against, which I’m grateful for—because once we’re in the air, I have a feeling I’ll need it.
I shift a little, finding my balance, pressing my hand lightly to the warm scales beneath me.
“Okay,” I tell him. “I think I’m ready.”
He turns his great head, one golden eye blinking back at me, and I get the distinct impression he’s checking—making sure I’m settled safely and comfortably.
“I’m good,” I tell him, a little more firmly this time. “Go ahead…let’s take off.”
He snorts once in acknowledgment and turns forward…then his wings spread.
They’re enormous—each one broad as the sail of a ship—the thin membranes catching the light as they rise. For a moment there’s only stillness…and then they move together in a massive downbeat.
Wind rushes around me, tugging at my hair and clothes, and the ground begins to fall away beneath us.
Another beat and then another and another.
With each powerful stroke, we climb higher into the sky. The wind rushes past me, cool and sharp against my face, tugging strands of hair loose from the hasty braid I put it in earlier. I tighten my grip instinctively, fingers curling against the smooth, warm scales beneath me.
The flight is dizzying—breathtaking. I’ve never been so high before.
The world spreads out beneath us like a tapestry, every detail shrinking and shifting the higher we rise.
The Old Forest stretches wide and deep—a sea of green that ripples in the wind, the tops of the trees swaying like waves.
I can just make out the narrow path we took to get here—a thin, pale thread winding through the darker green.
Beyond that lies the town. From up here, it looks so small. The houses are no more than toy blocks, their rooftops clustered together in neat little rows. The temple rises above them all—its pale stone catching the light, the gardens surrounding it like a carefully tended jewel.
For a moment, my chest tightens—that was my whole world and now I’m leaving it—at least for a while. Already it feels impossibly far away and it’s only getting farther.
The Drake’s wings beat again, stronger this time, and we surge higher still.
The air grows colder…thinner, and I press myself a little closer to his back, grateful for the steady heat that radiates from him.
It seeps into me, chasing away the chill and making me feel safe, even though we’re so high in the air.
Ahead of us, the land begins to change. The endless green gives way to rougher terrain—rolling hills first, then jagged outcroppings of stone that thrust up from the earth like broken teeth.
The colors shift too, from rich greens to dusty browns and grays, until at last I see them—the northern mountains.
They rise in the distance like a wall of jagged teeth at the edge of the world. But even from here, they look wrong.
They’re too sharp—too steep. Their peaks are serrated and uneven, clawing at the sky, some capped with snow that gleams cold and distant in the sunlight. Shadows cling to their sides—deep and dark—as though the light itself hesitates to touch them.
A shiver runs through me that has nothing to do with the cold—this is where we’re going. The first quest mentioned in the Time Weaving spell.
I shift slightly where I sit, tightening my grip as another strong gust of wind buffets us.
The Drake adjusts immediately, angling his wings, steadying us with an ease that speaks of long practice.
I feel it again—that quiet awareness, that sense of him watching over me even as he flies… caring for me…protecting me.
“We thought this would be the easiest one,” I murmur aloud, though I’m not sure if I’m speaking to him or to myself.
I need the feather from the Emperor Hawk—just a single feather.
How hard can it be? There are no demons…no sacred rivers…no ancient trees guarded by spirits.
There’s just a bird and I only need one of its feathers.
I almost laugh at that—almost.
Because as the mountains loom closer—growing larger with every beat of the Drake’s wings—that uneasy feeling in my chest only deepens.
I can’t lie to myself—I have a bad feeling about this quest.
The wind around the mountaintops is stronger, colder, whipping around us in unpredictable currents. It howls through the narrow passes between the jagged peaks, making a strange, lonely sound that makes the small hairs at the back of my neck stand up.
Nothing about this place feels welcoming…nothing about this feels easy.
I swallow hard and lean forward slightly, my hand pressing more firmly against the Drake’s scales as though I can anchor myself to him.
“We’ll be fine,” I say, talking to both him and myself. “Everything is going to be fine.
I want to believe it—I really do. But as the first of those jagged peaks rises up before us, vast and unforgiving, I feel a flicker of doubt curl low in my stomach.
A feather—that’s all we have to get. It’s so simple—almost too easy.
I have no idea how wrong I am.