He could have melted into them. He could have fallen. Hewasfalling, he realized, with a jolt to his system that felt like a blade. When had it happened? Was it only now, or had it been brewing in him, for quite some time?
And when she smiled?
Oh,gods,when she smiled at him, she was more beautiful than any sunrise could ever be.
He realized it all in the span of a breath. She was his best friend. She was hisfreedom,the most he’d ever felt...and he never wanted to leave her side.
“It’s us, Arawn!” she shouted. “Just us!”
And he wondered if she felt the same as him, if she noticed the way his heart suddenly seized in his chest. He wondered if she meant it would bethemin the end, Matched together as he hoped. Because suddenly Arawn wanted it. He craved it, the thought ofherandhim...and no one else.
But then she tilted her chin behind her, and he realized...
She meant the other Riders.
They had stopped racing. Now, the rest of them followed, as iftheir war eagles had accepted their place. And when he turned back to look at Soraya, her smile had turned to a mischievous grin.
The two of them could climb forever. They would never give in to the other, for even their eagles seemed to accept that they were a unit. That they could fly this way, side by side, until the sun melted into the night.
But to fly was also tofall...
And Arawn would not lose his place.
Hecouldnot.
Not even for her.
So he tore himself away. He pressed his right heel into Cyrra’s side, eased the pressure with his left, and dipped, because this was a race for glory. For honor.
For his father, yes, but also for the Five.
You must not fail.
For one moment, as Cyrra obeyed, Arawn swore he was going to slide from her back, for she wasn’t well trained yet. She was still a fledgling, her motions not nearly as smooth as the older mounts.
His voice left him as she turned so fast, they were upside down. It was a miracle – or maybe it was the sudden gust of magicked wind that pushed at his back, refusing to let him fall – as Cyrra dipped back upright, and he managed not to die.
Soraya soared past him, her Eagler smaller, faster, as she raced towards the ground.
No.
He managed to twist Cyrra around, until she and Soraya’s eagle were two arrows of gold, with two more behind them that fell into place.
The blanket of clouds grew closer, closer, until Cyrra’s beak cut through them like a knife. And then there was the wind and the snow again, so cold Arawn could have screamed. HesworeSoraya was using her magic to send it barreling right towards his face.
He whispered an invocation, formed a blaze of heat before him like a shield, melting the snowflakes.
He could see the wards clearly again, a dome of purple light thatencased the Citadel, the cliffs, and the tiny specks ofnomage tentswith glowing fires set among them. His entire life was below him, a world he’d vowed to protect, but from here...
It all looked so small.
The tailfeathers of Soraya’s eagle were inches from Cyrra’s beak.
They cut through the wards, back into thatpopof the gods’ protective magic as it sensed the goodness in their souls. The Citadel closed in, until Arawn could see the lines between the stones, and the shape of glowing runes upon them.
And still, he chased Soraya.
Still, it looked like she wouldwin.
