The wind whipped through my hair, knotting it into snarls and tangles. The dragon had turned east, following the path of the setting sun. The air was thin and the constant howling of the wind in my ears had beaten a brutal ache into my head. Only the warmth of the dragon’s scaled neck beneath me kept my battered fingers from losing their grip.
Below us the landscape had shifted from the shattered canyons to what seemed to be high chalklands, pale green and deserted.
The dragon flexed its shoulders a little and banked to the right. I peered down. We were nearing the edge of the chalk, the grassy land puckering as it sloped down.
Something white flashed below us and I looked down. A white bull was etched on the chalk, a hundred paces long, a brother to the white horse I knew from the mortal world. The carving had captured the creature mid-charge, head down and legs stretched. It looked free, even as it was caught in perfect stillness. I peered down, shielding my eyes from the rays of the sunset. A pair of figures stood at the base of the bull’s neck. I could see Belis, staring up at the sky. Beside her was Rhiannon, arms outstretched, silver hair streaming in the wind. They must haverushedhere. Rhiannon must have found some vestige of strength.
I twisted around the dragon’s neck, trying to see. The dragon dipped and I scrabbled to regain my hold. I wanted to yell to Belis but I didn’t dare upset the dragon. The wind carried speech towards me, strange, old words, from songs that I had forgotten ever hearing. I recognised the voice, too: Rhiannon was singing. There was a power in the song, both in the language and in the melody. I felt it drawing me closer, pulling me towards her.
The dragon leaned again to the right, circling lower over the chalk bull. I pressed my arms even tighter around its neck,cursing my bad luck. How could I be so close to help and yet beyond it?
The dragon growled and I felt the fire within it begin to burn a little hotter. I scanned the ground, looking for what had provoked it. A bird was flying towards us, riding the rising air currents with widespread wings. As it soared towards us I saw that it was Rhiannon’s eagle, amber and gold feathers bright against the sky. The dragon grumbled again but didn’t seem threatened and the scales beneath me cooled.
The eagle angled its wings and banked heavily to the left until it was mere feet from my head. There was a yellow ribbon tied to one of its feet, a scrap of parchment threaded through the silk. I raised my arm out and the eagle landed neatly on my fist, watching me with bronze-eyed malevolence. Its vicious talons dug into the skin of my hand but I refused to flinch, glaring right back at it until it looked away and grudgingly held out its leg. I fumbled for the parchment, winding the ribbon in my hands. In neat, perfectly calligraphic Latin, it said, “at fifteen feet, jump to the south”.
I looked at the eagle.
“She can’t be serious. All the trouble of sending you and this is all the information I get?”
The eagle blinked at me then took off, skimming over my head so low that I had to duck to avoid the trailing claws. The dragon murmured unhappily and I patted its neck.
“I know, you should have roasted it.”
I shoved the message inside my shirt and pushed my hair back, using the yellow ribbon to tie it out of my face. Rhiannon’s voice came again but now there was more than one note to her song. Dozens of tones, layering on top of each other, high and low, sweet and rough. The song seemed to resonate in the cavity of my chest, in the hollow of my skull. It called to me and I leaned down against the dragon’s neck, reaching out through the open air.
The dragon opened its mouth and keened. It drew in its wings and began to fly in lower and lower rings. I trailedmy fingers in the air, brushing against the delicious sound. I closed my eyes to concentrate on it better. Something sharp prickled my collarbone. I yelped and grabbed at my shirt. The parchment letter was irritating my skin. I shook my head and cleared a little of the enchantment of the song. Fifteen feet. I had to be ready to jump.
We were lower than I’d realised by now, close enough to the ground that I could see the powdery chalk beneath the thin grass. I loosened my grip and levered myself into a crouching position on the back of the dragon. Below us Rhiannon had moved to the west, into a wide-open space opposite the charging bull. The sun was almost below the horizon now and the last of its beams washed the hillside in gold so that the figure seemed to glow, seemed to move.
The dragon turned one last time and came in to land. It stretched out its claws, reaching towards the hill where Rhiannon was standing. I had to trust in her plan. I sprang to my feet and half ran, half fell down the back of the dragon, diving towards the chalk.
I hit the ground hard and rolled, tumbling back and forth so that sky and grass seemed two sides of a cartwheel, but the slopes dipped to the north and my momentum could only carry me so far before I stopped. The pain of the landing hadn’t hit me yet but I knew it was coming.
I looked up, eyes still rolling in my head, just in time to see the dragon land. Its wings were splayed out behind it like battle flags and its talons extended, just to the hem of Rhiannon’s tunic. The old queen’s face was warm and gentle and she held out her hand. Her lips moved, framing the final words of the spell.
The dragon struck the ground and sank like a stone through clear water. No sound came from its mouth, no fire burst from its chest, it simply sliced through the earth and was gone. The sun set and the hillside was dark.
I heard Rhiannon mutter something and pale wisps bloomed in the air, casting their pearlescent glow over the ground. Beneath our feet a new carving had appeared. The long lines ofa dragon’s wings spread out across the chalk, shining white in the darkness. The old queen looked at me and smiled.
“It’s done,” she said. Then she was gone, too.
I fell back against the stubbly grass and looked up at the sky as the wash of fear and panic drained away from me, quickly replaced by the reality of my injuries. I was badly burned and the leap from the dragon’s back had jolted my left arm. I flexed it tentatively and stifled a yelp as a rush of cramping pain rocketed through me. There was truly no end to the delights of a mortal body. I took a long shaky breath and focused on steadying myself.
I managed to convince my stomach not to empty its contents and looked up. Belis was running towards me, panic on her face. She clattered to a halt in front of me, falling to her knees.
“Mallt, thank the gods you’re alive. When the dragon came I thought—” She broke off, seeing my arm. “You’re hurt, Mallt? I’m so sorry, this is all my fault. I shouldn’t have let you go off alone.”
“I’m fine, really,” I said, trying to stand up. My legs were wobblier than I had expected and I stumbled forward, almost falling on top of her. She caught me and lowered me back to the ground.
“Where’s Rhiannon,” she asked, looking back around. I shrugged and felt my eyes begin to sting. I raised a hand to my face and it came away damp. Tears, I realised. One of the few things I hadn’t experienced since I had become human.
“She’s gone,” I said, stumbling over my words. Belis pressed her eyes shut for a moment.
“Did the dragon take her?” she asked after a minute. I shook my head.
“It went into the chalk alone. I think she was just ready to fade. She’d worked for so long.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” Her voice wavered and I felt more tears trickle down my cheeks.
