Chapter 10
Chapter ten
Lelantos knew the sound of the derby horn.
He had raced hundreds — perhaps thousands — of derbies in his long lifetime, ridden by the dragoneers of Longbourn house, and he now reclaimed his competitive spirit.
Valeraine didn’t have to give him a signal or spur him to action.
At the horn, Lelantos came onto his haunches, pumped his wings, and took to the sky.
The seven other dragons followed behind them, rising quickly. Their riders knew the sound of the horn, even if their dragons were too nest-tetchy to heed it.
Almost immediately, the sleek white dragon snapped at the tail of a black dragon.
The black bit back, and a brawl of claws and roars broke out between them.
The rider of the black dragon was thrown from his saddle and dangled from his harness straps.
The other dragons were eager to join, testing their mettle against the angry beasts.
Even the argumentative Pemberley was unable to launch directly into the course.
Valeraine looked forward, feeling the wind whistling through the eye holes of her mask and snagging her braid.
She focused on the goal before her: Oakham mount.
She steered Lelantos, tugging on the reins and gently prodding him with her knees.
The advantage was hers, with a dragon in his own nest territory, free from the dominance games that plagued their competitors.
They flew. Valeraine squeezed her knees to urge Lelantos to speed.
The green countryside churned past them, dizzyingly blurred.
This was faster than she had ever pushed her house’s dragon before, and she worried he might not be fit to work the fields tomorrow.
What was that, though, compared to the acclaim it would bring to Longbourn to win a derby? She laughed at the rush of it all.
She heard the riders behind her before she saw them.
A great turbulence whooshing in the air and growls as the dragons jockeyed for position.
The dragons didn’t need to fly the same path to the mount, and yet they stayed near each other.
They wanted to knock their competitors out of the sky.
What would be the sense in staying at their own elevation and giving each other plenty of room?
Valeraine turned in her saddle, feeling the rushing wind push at a new, disconcerting angle.
There were three dragons immediately behind her, gaining fast. How did they fly so quickly?
Were these dragons bred exclusively for speed?
She knew those dragons existed, but had not expected to encounter them at this small derby in the countryside.
The Nethenabbi clan was known for breeding for reduced tetchiness, so the dragons could deliver shipments far and wide.
Perhaps they also bred some for racing. A pale blue ridden by Nethenabbi was right behind Valeraine, one with feathers on her tail tip and along her wings.
Close behind her were the horned burgundy dragon of Pemberley, and the angry white one.
Valeraine crouched low in her saddle, trying to present less of a target to the wind, and urged Lelantos, “Faster! Fly!”
Lelantos pumped his wings. They might be going faster. A little.
Valeraine wanted to check if it had been enough to preserve their lead, but she might be blown off by the wind if she turned in the saddle to look.
Oakham mount was before them. It was a largeish hill, sparsely decorated by trees. There were plenty of places to land a dragon on it. She urged Lelantos to touch down at this checkpoint. As soon as she felt the jostle of Lelantos’ legs make contact, Valeraine twitched the reins back up.
Lelantos settled on the ground, and laid his head down to rest. His passion for the race was spent, it seemed.
“No! No,” Valeraine exclaimed. “Get up, you silly lizard. There’s half the race left.”
Nethenabbi’s blue dragon touched down and was back up in the sky again. The air whooshed at their passing, snatching at Valeraine’s braid. Other dragons came in close behind, churning the hilltop into a frenzy of wind.
This, finally, convinced Lelantos that it was not time to take a nap. He lumbered to the air again. He was wearing thin. He didn’t have the endurance needed for a sprint of this distance.
They were going to lose.
Longbourn house did not have the power to match these young dragons.
As Nethenabbi’s pale blue dame turned about in the air to make the return leg, an incoming dragon slammed into her.
They were both flung into disarray, spinning wildly.
The attacker was nimble and reoriented quickly, moving onto the hilltop.
However, the Nethenabbi dragon had been entirely knocked out of the sky and down again to the ground.
Mr. Nethenabbi or the dragon might be injured enough to be out of the race.
Valeraine tried to feel pity for poor Mr. Nethenabbi. She could not summon it. She had the lead again. The elation lifted her heart. Lelantos climbed through the sky, his overgrown wings taking great scoops of air. They were rising faster than any other dragon. This race was theirs.
“You can do this. Fly.” she chanted in Lelantos’ ear.
A mob of dragons was directly before them — the four latecomers approaching the hill. Valeraine aimed Lelantos higher so they could dodge the group. The dragons passed below, scratching at each other and struggling against the turbulence of their neighbors’ wings.
The climb higher had cost Lelantos time, but it put them in an excellent position to dive from.
No matter how she encouraged Lelantos to go faster, they did not accelerate, and the pack was closing in. She first saw the burgundy dragon of Pemberley below her, passing her swiftly. Then, the cunning white, Nethenabbi’s blue, and two others. Lelantos was now in sixth.
He was also, by far, the highest up. This was her chance to extravagantly dive and reclaim her spot at the front of the pack. Netherfield manor was a minute’s flight away. This win was Longbourn’s. The thrill of it sang in her. Everyone would see how swift and cunning their dragon was.
Valeraine pointed Lelantos to the front of the pack, and directed him down. He gracefully dipped in the sky, sliding downwards, gaining more speed than she had ever felt from him. They dropped. Her stomach reacted, jumping up. She held onto the saddle to keep her place.
There was an opening in the jostling dragons below. They could slip through it, reaching the ground first. First to the winner’s laurels. She tilted Lelantos into a steeper dive to slide into the gap.
They passed through the gap, surrounded on all sides by angry dragons.
Their wings buzzed to and fro, kaleidoscopic.
The wind rushed so loud in her ears that the growls of the dragons were snatched away.
Valeraine was surrounded by complete chaos, death a certainty if she fell from her saddle.
She should have been terrified. She should have been freezing in fear.
She should have been sensible enough to stop this monstrous plan before now.
She was out of her depth, risking her life and her reputation on slim hopes.
All she could see was the wonder of wings about her. It was utterly beautiful: a corridor of flashing hues and pure power. She was part of this dance; she felt the rhythm in her heart. The dragons had mastery of the skies, and she claimed part of it for herself.
Valeraine felt an echoing of her feelings, a resonance in her mind.
It was joy and triumph, reflected back to her with an alien tilt to it.
It felt, instinctively, like Lelantos. It had his slow, ponderous movement and his quick annoyance.
It had his easy contentment and his persistent spirit.
Valeraine knew her dragon. This was his excitement, his wonder. He was sharing his feelings with her.
She rested her gloved fist (still gripping the reins) on his back, and the feeling intensified.
She could physically feel the wind straining against his wings as if they were her own.
His fierce competitive streak came alive as they passed the other dragons.
After years of working with Lelantos, serving him, training him, becoming familiar with his quirks, she finally knew him.
There was a spectral bond between them now. It was glorious.
Happy tears pooled in her eyes. Or perhaps that was just from the wind.
This was what she was born to do. She was of Longbourn, a dragon house. She had spent her life with Lelantos, learning how he flew and how he liked his food. She had been born for zooming through the skies, for bringing acclaim to her house.
She had been born for this dive, and every one she would take after it.
She was born to be a dragoneer.