“Ideas?” I called over the wind.
“Working on it,” Varyth snarled, mist lashing wildly from his arms.
The first shadow dragon dove at us from above, claws extended. Varyth’s mist lashed out like a living thing, wrapping around the creature’s wings and sending it spinning away. But the other two were already closing in, their riders raising weapons that gleamed with sickly green light.
Below us, the green dragon had taken to the air again. It rose through the clouds like an emerald arrow, its amber eyes fixed on something I couldn’t see.
“Thessarian could outrun them,” Varyth said through gritted teeth as another wave of mist deflected a spear thrown from one of the shadow riders. “If she wasn’t carrying so much weight.”
The green dragon positioned itself directly below us. Its amber eyes locked onto mine, and an understanding passed between us, one that transcended words.
It was asking. Offering.
Waiting.
I didn’t bother trying to explain my sudden certainty to Varyth. There wasn’t time, and he’d only try to stop me.
“Hold onto Darian,” I said, not taking my eyes off the dragon below.
“Isara.” My name was a warning, but I was already moving.
I pushed up from Thessarian’s back, my legs coiling beneath me like springs. For one terrifying moment I was balanced on the dragon’s spine, wind tearing at my hair and clothes.
“Isara!” Both Varyth and Darian roared my name. Varyth with fury, Darian with whatever terrified strength he had left.
Then I stepped off into empty air.
18
The fall was different this time. Not the panicked plummet from before, but instead almost graceful. The green dragon was there, matching my speed, rising to meet me as I dropped through the sky.
I hit its back hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs, my hands scrambling for purchase on emerald scales. The dragon adjusted beneath me, powerful muscles shifting to accommodate my weight as I found my balance.
Above us, Thessarian shot forward like an arrow released from a bow, suddenly free of the extra weight that had been dragging her down. Varyth’s mist erupted around them in a protective cocoon as they streaked away from the pursuing shadow dragons.
The green dragon beneath me let out a roar that was triumph or challenge, then angled to follow. It moved like liquid lightning, its powerful wings eating up distance with effortless grace. We outstripped the shadow dragons, their heavier forms falling behind as my unlikely mount climbed higher into the sky.
Now that there was distance between us, now that I wouldn’t risk hitting Darian or Varyth with my wildly uncontrolled flames, I let the black fire loose.
It erupted from me like a dam bursting, cold fire streaming from my hands in a torrent of hungry darkness. The flames stretched across the sky like reaching fingers, and when they slammed into the nearest shadow dragon, the creature’s shriek of agony tore through the air.
The impact was devastating. Where my fire touched, scales blackened and crumbled. The dragon’s wing membrane tore like burning paper, and it tumbled from the sky in a spiral of smoke and dying screams.
The rush of it. The pure, destructive satisfaction, sent heat spiralling through my veins that had nothing to do with magic and everything to do with violence finally given free reign.
“Easy there, wildfire.”
The voice drifted into my mind like smoke, male and amused and completely impossible. I jerked so hard I nearly slid sideways off the dragon’s back, my hands scrambling for purchase on emerald scales.
“Don’t let go. That would be unfortunate for both of us.”
My head snapped down to stare at the dragon beneath me. Those amber eyes met mine briefly—intelligent, ancient, and definitely laughing at my shock.
The dragon rumbled, a sound that vibrated through his entire body and into my bones. Not quite a purr, not quite a growl, but something that felt distinctly like amusement.
“You can talk,” I said aloud, barely audible over the rush of wind and wings.
“I can do many things. Talking happens to be one of them.”The words carried humour, like he found my surprise entertaining rather than concerning. “Though most former humans don’t hear us clearly enough for proper conversation.”
