I look down at Ninon’s face one more time. I squeeze Issa’s wrist harder; she doesn’t so much as flinch. I meet her gaze, but she’s unclear, my vision veiled by unshed tears.
Carefully, so carefully, I give Ninon to Issa. Another sob gasps out of me as I pass my trembling hands down the length of her arms and hold her cooling hands in mine. I lean down and press my forehead hers, long and hard, before placing a kiss of equal force upon her head. I breathe in the scent of her, sealing it into my memory.
I’m caving in on myself, heavy and buried under the weight of my growing grief. I don’t know how I’m going to muster up the courage I need to leave her. To do what I’m about to do. I lift my head, taking a long time to meet Issa’s eyes. In them, I see the love that was blooming for my friend shed like petals down her cheeks.
“When I take the Sar Dyeus’s power,” I say to Issa, my voice shaking with each word, “and you can leave the Realm, find Haven or Antir. Tell them I sent you. They’ll help you.”
Understanding dawns on Issa, determination in her expression. She grabs the back of my neck hard and pushes her forehead against mine. “Go bring down that motherfucker.”
I nod jerkily. Still, I don’t move.
“Now, or he’ll stop you.”
I know who she means.
But I know, too, that I cannot be stopped. Not in this. Not now.
Issa pushes me and I stand. I walk backwards for as long as I can, searing the image of Ninon, dead on the ground in the arms of another, into my mind. People run in front of me, taking my view of her. Issa has curled her body down and around Ninon. Ozias comes her to side and I’m out of time.
I turn and run for the wall.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
THE SERE IS blanket of dust as the storm building from earlier rolls through. I’m standing on the precipice of the wall. If I want to make it to Dyeus before the sun sets, I need to shift now. All around me energy flows, a dance of ribbons on the surface of wind. I capture them and take them into myself, as easy as pulling rocks from the sand. Every bit I bring into me, draws my dragon closer to the surface. A force behind me approaches. Ozias.
I take the last bit of energy I need, and jump from the wall.
My transformation takes hold.
My wings catch the wind and then I’m barreling through the storm with no heed to the dust and debris pummeling my scales. I bank around where I last knew Dyeus’s troops were, though I know even they will not be outin this mess.
If Ozias followed me, I can’t feel his energy signature. I hope he stays away. I hope I can maintain this form.
The moment the thought crosses my mind, my body grows heavier and I plummet a few feet. I beat my wings harder; I draw more energy from the storm into me.
I fly, shrouded in dust, the world before me blurred out. I’m alone, stuck in this void. Inside me, the woman is weeping. It feels fitting for her to be lost in this storm, lost as she is without Ninon. It wouldn’t matter to her right now if we never made it out.
But it does matter.Imatter. And even if she can’t see it right now, I won’t let the years Ninon lived be for nothing. We will free the others, as I have been freed. It’s all I have. The woman in me agrees. She wipes her face, and we fly.
I break out of the storm and the distance I still have to fly to Dyeus is staggering. The mass of lands that make up Dyeus still remain far outside my reach. My resolve flags. My efforts feel more like running through the grassy plains on my own feet instead of racing across them on Aspa’s back.
It’s too far. It’s too far and I’m not prepared. I should have stayed, and I curse my anger. I chance a look over my shoulder. My grip on flight falters, and I drop before catching myself on the wind again, heart racing as I hold onto my form.
I can do this. I can get to Dyeus, and if I can can get close the Sar Dyeus’s chambers, he’ll let me in. He has to.
A blast of wind catches my side, pushing my body off course. I manage to right myself, only to see a dragon speeding towards me, coming from Dyeus. One I don’t recognize.
I dodge to the side at the last moment, like in the game I played with Issa days ago, narrowly missing the dragon catching me in the wing with its teeth. I fly harder and faster towards Dyeus, but the dragon chasing after me twists in the air and is back on my trail. A screech rends the air. From high above, a white dragon dives into the one pursuing me. They tussle in the sky below, teeth and scales flashing. There’s a burst of green-blue energy and the dragon that had been after me stiffens. Its form hovers in the sky,then sinks to the ground, landing in a cloud of dust.
With my attention unfocused, the power in me slips and I drop to the side before righting myself. I’m panting hard, trying to hold onto the power I’ve collected. It’s too much and not enough. I free fall again. I can’t hold it and I lose the shift.
A scream tears out of my human throat, my wide eyes lost in the endless sky above, then a blinding moment as I fall down into the depths of the storm. This wasn’t how I expected to die. At least it will be swift. There’s nothing but air and lightness. The burden of having the weight of my people’s truth on my shoulders flies up and away. I tell the wind to let Ninon know I’m coming. That we’ll be together. This was truly the end, after all.
Then, much too soon, I’m landing painfully, only to lurch upward again. I open my eyes and find myself not on the ground, but on the back of a pure white dragon.
Zhoric.
I close my eyes with relief, and yet a fresh wave of anger swallows me up. I want to scream at him, rage, but none of it will bring Ninon back. None of it would do any good save releasing this churning anguish inside. There will be places to use that once this is through. After all the torment I felt at having to do this to him, Ninon’s death is what I needed to see clearly. I’ll let him lead me to his downfall, and now, I’ll do it gladly.
