Chapter 48
Chapter forty-eight
The Pemberley derby had begun. Lelantos took to the air, surrounded by over a dozen other dragons.
They had been spaced widely enough that there was room for everyone to maneuver up, and for the first few seconds there were no fights between the dragons.
The watching crowd jeered their disappointment.
The fights at the beginning of a derby were typically the most spectacular, and the most easily seen by the spectators.
If Valeraine was going to have a chance at winning, she needed to leverage Lelantos’ strengths.
With his large wingspan, he could easily climb into the air.
That height could be turned into speed during dives.
She flicked the reins up, directing her dragon higher.
He obliged, accustomed to this from their training. He was determined, focused.
Then, that moment ended. They were passing a green dragon in the air — one that Lelantos had already exchanged not-so-pleasantries with. The dragon called a challenge, and Lelantos called one back, and swerved on a course to attack. They were suddenly not going up, but swooping to the side.
Valeraine considered letting the fight happen. The green dragon was small, and Lelantos could likely bash it out of the sky with little danger to himself. It would be one less competitor in the race.
No. She didn’t want to be that kind of dragoneer.
She directed Lelantos with her knees and reins back on track, and he gave up his hunt of the little green with a huff. They continued their climb.
Valeraine peered around Lelantos’ body, looking for the dragons below them.
They were around sixth place now. With their advantage of elevation, she could easily dive down and take first place.
They would have to time it well, to get to the midway checkpoint as fast as possible.
The longer they took at the checkpoint, the more chance the bottleneck of dragons would catch them in fights.
Pemberley’s burgundy dragon was in first place. He was obviously using the home advantage to its fullest: a focused dragon, confident in its domain.
It would be fine to do the checkpoint rag-grab with Pemberley’s dragon nearby. It wouldn’t attack, so long as Lelantos didn’t bite first. Valeraine trusted Pemberley enough for that, that his dragon would be well mannered at its nest.
She urged Lelantos ever faster, and he obliged.
She could feel his lungs bellowing, pumping and burning.
He was going at the upper limit of his abilities.
She didn’t know whether she should cheer him on or worry for his health.
She shouted, “Go, Lelantos! You’re amazing!
” and hoped that the dragon would be wise enough to slow down if he truly needed a break.
But she also hoped he could maintain this speed and coup them first place, showing Pemberley just how capable Longbourn was.
The snowy landscape passed below them, miles of fields, stretching far into the horizon. The number of tenants supported by Pemberley house was staggering. This was the kind of wealth that thirty-one dragons provided.
Valeraine spotted the little stream which her course would soon be crossing, and knew the bridge with the checkpoint rags must be nearby.
The spot was carefully chosen, next to a rugged hillside free of trees, an easy place for many dragons to land.
As Lelantos dived closer, she saw the colorful handkerchiefs looped in the bridge’s handrail.
Pemberley was landing in the field moments before Lelantos swooped in.
Valeraine was second, now. She was already sliding from the dragon’s back before he had settled on the ground and ran for the bridge.
Pemberley reached the bridge a moment before she did. He started undoing the knot of a rag. He said, “Longbourn,” as greeting.
Valeraine slid to a stop on the icy bridge. “Pemberley,” she returned. Her hand found the dagger sheathed in her leathers and cut a rag free, immediately turning and sprinting back to her dragon, slipping a little on the ice as she did.
She clambered back up on Lelantos. Before she was truly settled, he was already taking to the sky, and she gripped the saddle tightly as she secured her tether in the turbulence of his ascension.
The pack of dragons was coming straight for them. She urged Lelantos higher, dodging above the competition.
Valeraine was almost relaxed as they stopped climbing and cruised forward.
Dragons were quarreling behind her, and Lelantos was leaving them all behind.
She smirked. Their lead was secure, with the other riders bogged down in that mess.
They just needed to beat Pemberley. She looked behind her in the air, searching for his deep red beauty.
She saw instead below and behind her a white dragon of sharp points, gaining on her.
Rosings had avoided the jam at the halfway point.
Where was Pemberley? Had he been slowed by the pack? She finally saw him below and in front of her, in first. She would not be bested by him. He would be proven right in all his insults against her house if he won.
She needed to reclaim her lead. A dive would do it in the short-term, but he would just pull ahead again.
Lelantos wasn’t flying as fast as he had in the first half of the race, his exhaustion wearing him down.
He could ascend and cruise better than any of his young competition, but sprinting was more than his old bones could handle for long.
Lelantos shook, bucking violently. Valeraine almost lost her seat in the saddle. A bolt of anger coursed through them. She grabbed the pommel to steady her and looked around frantically. What had set him off?
Rosings and his white dragon were directly behind them.
The jaws of the white dragon were clamped around Lelantos’ tail.
Lelantos continued to buck, panicked, but his tail was stuck in the strong jaws.
Both the dragons were slowing, the pack of riders behind them catching up.
Rosings had a wicked rictus grin. He didn’t care about winning: he just wanted Lelantos to suffer.
Was it because he hated Valeraine, or hated Lelantos for firing on his dragon? Both, mixing with his vile personality.
Valeraine needed to do something, now. Lelantos was being injured, and panicking.
Her heart raced, from both his fury and hers.
If they stayed in this lock, they would have no chance of winning.
“Steady!” she called to her dragon, hoping he could hear over the snatching wind.
She pressed her palm into his hide, sending her intentions and needs.
He responded by calming a fraction and bucking less.
Valeraine turned in the saddle, and began to crawl along the back of Lelantos’ spine.
There was a tugging at her harness, and she realized: her tether.
She would never be able to get close with it attached.
She needed to help Lelantos, now. Valeraine detached her tether, trusting in her balance and her dragon’s steadiness.
She crawled to his back haunches and dared to go no further onto the tail proper.
Those white jaws needed to open for a moment, and they would be free.
Blood leaked from the dragon’s mouth. Lelantos’ blood.
Lelantos was desperate, fearful and angry, and attempting to stay still for her sake. She would rescue him.
“Rosings!” she shouted, then thought better of continuing. Her voice might give her away her.
Valeraine instead drew the knife from her leathers and threw it at the white dragon’s head. She had no skill, but this was a close target, and the wind of their flight aided her.
The wooden hilt bounced off the white dragon’s pale blue eye, and the dagger fell out of the sky. The dragon’s jaws immediately sprang open with a roar.
Lelantos seized the moment of freedom, springing forward out of reach with a burst of wing flaps.
The sudden motion sent Valeraine tumbling off his back, into the open air.
Whenever Lelantos would dive, her body would panic. She would quiet it with the knowledge that she was secure in the saddle and Lelantos had everything under control with his sturdy wings. She could enjoy being at the whims of gravity.
This drop was not like any of those before it. No comfort could be found. She was falling to her death.
“Sidton!” she heard Rosings yell, seemingly in genuine worry.
Valeraine spun through the air, unable to control her direction. The ground was approaching. How close was it? Her orientation was snatched away by her wild whirling.
She had been foolish, and this was the end of it. Everyone would discover she was the masked rider, and Longbourn would be shamed.
She had failed everyone.
Something slammed into her, sending her spinning even faster. She saw a flash of something green. Lelantos? He was trying to rescue her, but he had no practice with aerial hunting.
Something clamped around her chest, ripping the breath from her.
The green was all before her now, familiar scales. Lelantos’ underside. His claws were wrapped around her midsection, pricking into her leather armor.
She was alive.
In the corner of her eye, there was an expanse of burgundy.
Lelantos jerked in the air, ramming into the other dragon. Lelantos managed to right himself, gaining altitude.
Valeraine craned her neck to see if Pemberley had fared so well, and saw instead the red dragon in a dangerous spin, losing elevation, failing to right itself. The dragon hit the ground with a whump and a tumble. Snow sprayed into the air.
Lelantos flew on.
Valeraine watched the mess of the dragon on the ground, not springing back to the sky. She couldn’t make out Pemberley from this distance.
He could be dead from that impact.
He could be crushed below his dragon, or with a snapped spine.
Or he could be perfectly fine.
This was her chance. She couldn’t see the pack of riders from her inflexible vantage point in Lelantos’ claws, but they had likely already passed her. Rosings would come in first, and someone else next. But she could still beat Pemberley, and still have a respectable placing in the race.
She had survived the fall due to miraculous flying, and now she could still finish this derby.
She knew what she needed to do.