I allowed myself a small smile. I was warm. I wasn’t hungry (not after the excellent breakfast William had fed us). And I trusted my traveling companions. I was feeling almost hopeful.
Right up until talons longer than my forearm closed around me. Their grip was crushing, and pain shot through my shoulders as I was wrenched skyward, my boots kicking uselessly at empty air.
“Haven!” Remy’s shout carried a note of something beyond fear. “Zane, get her back!”
Even as I rose higher and higher, my stomach remained on the ground, and I swallowed the urge to be violently sick.
I’d watched birds and wondered what it might feel like to fly. I had my answer. It was traumatizing.
I twisted, desperately trying to see what held me. But no matter how I craned my neck, all I could see were green scales.
I glanced downward. A mistake. Already, Buttercup looked impossibly tiny—a toy horse, not a real one. My cloak billowed around me, and the unreasonable worry that the talons that snatched me from the saddle had also torn the fabric consumed me.
The wind at this height was vicious, tearing at my hair and making my eyes stream.
A roar rattled my bones, and I caught sight of a crimson beast arrowing toward us. It was massive, with scales that gleamed like polished garnets in the morning sun.
Then came the jolt—like two enormous runaway wagons colliding. I’d seen that happen once in Grimswood. The crash had shaken houses and broken windows. Desperate childrenhad braved the wreckage to scavenge whatever survived the accident.
I wasn’t sure anything could survive a dragon’s hit, but we kept flying, kept rising in the frigid air.
When the red dragon hit us a second time, the clash was deafening—scales scraping against scales, the wet rip of claws finding flesh, a roar that made my bones vibrate.
The hold on my shoulders loosened slightly. If the green dragon dropped me, I needed a plan.
The red dragon circled; I prepared.
A third jolt was followed by a pained snarl.
The talons released, and I fell.
For an instant, my heart stopped. The ground, which had seemed so very far away, rushed to meet me. Panic froze my thoughts, and precious seconds slipped by before I remembered I could control the wind. I conjured a gust to slow my descent.
No longer in danger of crashing to earth, I dared look up.
Above me, two dragons battled. The red dragon fought with startling precision, each strike deliberate and controlled. It sank its fangs into the green’s neck.
The green dragon scored the red’s chest, and blood sprayed. Dragon blood had a scent—metallic like human blood, but with an underlying sulfur tang that burned my nostrils.
Dragons were real. I’d hoped Gladys’s pool had lied.
The red dragon stared at me with golden eyes, and my concentration faltered. I plummeted toward the frozen earth.
Desperately, I tried to call the wind. But I was too shocked by what I’d seen in the red dragon’s eyes to conjure more than a soft breeze.
Meanwhile, the rushing air brought tears to my eyes as the ground grew ever closer.
Below me, Remy was near enough for me to see the horrifiedexpression on his face. He raised his hands, and I stopped. In midair. Stopped. As if gravity didn’t exist.
I floated in a bubble of safety. A bubble that eased me toward the ground.
I landed in Remy’s waiting arms, my entire body shaking. For once, the shivers racking my body weren’t from the cold. Instead, the bone-deep terror of nearly dying had me shaking like a leaf. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling, so I shoved them into my pockets to hide the tremors.
“Are you hurt?” He patted his hands over my body, searching, desperate.
“I’m fine.” The lie came automatically. I wasn’t fine. I could still feel the horrifying realization that a dragon had dragged me off my horse, the sickening lurch of falling, and the moment when I’d thought I was going to die. My eyes returned to the sky.
Above us, the dragons still fought, but it was easy to see the red would win. The green dragon had a tear in its left wing and a deep gash in its throat.
