“You want me to go with you?”
He lifted his head.
With a smile and a sigh, I went for the saddle in the townhouse lair. I couldn’t very well tell him no. Flying with a rider at night would be safer for him anyway.
This time, Myth had more energy, more courage as he flew, darting between chimneys and looping around buildings. My arms and legs ached from holding me to the saddle, but the thrill was worth it.
“Okay, boy, I'm ready to try that again,” I told him as we sailed across the starlit sky. A few clouds gathered from the north, promising snow. Fingers slow from the cold, I grabbed hold of the handles as tightly as I could, squeezing him with my knees. He dove straight down, tucking his wings until we were vertical. My stomach somersaulted. Sensing my fear, Myth leveled out, arcing between buildings. I held on tightly as we banked left, then right, before rising above the rooftops again, barely able to contain the panic stabbing through me with each move.
A small sensation seeped through my awareness, at first hard to detect. It was fighting against the fear and tension inside me—the feeling was an urge to relax.
“Is that you, boy?” I asked over the wind.
In response, Myth hummed low in his throat.
I knew he couldn’t talk to me, but he was telling me to relax, to trust him. In fact, I sensed he was almost desperate for it.
“Okay, boy. I trust you.”
I closed my eyes and let our bond guide me. His muscles moved beneath me, his frame tilting this way and that. I couldn’t see the buildings, but when my eyes were closed, distractions removed, I couldfeelwhat he wanted to do. Left, higher, bank left again. My body was screaming at me to open my eyes, to see why we were hurtling through the air, but beneath my human instincts was an inexplicable hunger for the skies, and it steadied me, if I let it.
My mind flashed to the first night race course. Eyes open once more, I scanned for an opening that led between bridges to the tunnels of bottomside. It was too soon to practice, I told myself. I needed more easy rides before we tried something like that. But there was no way to get good enough to win without trying something risky. Then I saw it. The imposing government building that marked part of the course. My lips quirked.
“Just a small part of it,” I told myself, whispering the words out loud. I tugged on the handle on the right side of Myth’s neck, and he banked. “That’s it.” I aimed him directly toward the small dark slit between bridges. Tonight and tomorrow, the streets were emptier than any day of the year.
“Now, do you trust me?” He let out a puff of steam that wafted back and warmed my face. “Okay. Do you see that hole down there? That’s where the race goes. We don’t have to try the lower course tonight. We’ll just fly topside for now and practice the—” Before I could get the last word out, Myth dove.
He bulleted straight for the dark hole underneath the bridge. He’d run into something, certainly. Fewer people out and about didn’t meannone.
“Myth, no!” I shouted, but he'd already scythed into the dark tunnel that led bottomside. There was a wide space up ahead where two streets intersected, and I knew that was where the dragons had their one chance to beat their wings to keep up their speed down here. But it was a half-second chance to get it right. I could see the claw marks in the cobblestones where past racers had scrambled on their feet after losing too much speed in the dive.
After leveling out, Myth pushed off the ground with one foot, spread his wings at the intersection, and flapped. As he rose, I ducked my head against his neck so I wouldn’t bust my forehead on the bricks above us.
At the next intersection, a woman shouted at us as we once again shot upward toward the night sky, Myth’s wings beating madly now for the swift rise. We leveled out over the buildings, chimney smoke filling my lungs. I sat up, hands moving from the handles to the spikes on his neck. “Myth.” I coughed. “That was madness. That was amazing.”
Several people had seen us, shrieking in terror as we’d blasted past.
We arrived in the courtyard before my heart stopped racing. I untied my legs and slid down to the pavement, dropping onto one of the benches with an exhausted, excited sigh.
Somebody nearby cleared their throat. I jumped up and looked around the dimly lit space. Rush was wearing a tuxedo and sitting on the bench across the courtyard, his arms spread wide across the back, one ankle crossed over the other.
“Reeking ash, Ari, I was about to freeze.”
CHAPTER 28
Itook two steps forward before halting.
“Hi,” I said awkwardly, clasping my hands at my waist then dropping them back to my sides. Rush smiled—not his characteristic smirk, but a real smile—as I walked forward, and a tiny flame crackled to life inside me. “I thought you’d be with your family tonight,” I said.
A laugh escaped his nose, and he glanced at Myth. “And get in the way of them enjoying their party? They won’t miss me.”
My chest pinched at the words. “You don’t go to the parties?”
“I made an appearance.” He lifted a hand, twirled it in the air. “But I thought you might be here.” Then he stood. “Looks like you had fun.”
“I did,” I muttered, struck by what he’d just said. Now that I no longer felt Myth’s warmth, a violent shiver rocked my body. I was itching to tell Rush about Myth’s flight.
“You looked at home up there,” he said, voice softer.
