I look back over my shoulder.
The army is no longer a distant smear of torchlight. Individual riders are visible now. The formation is wide, spreading across the flat ground to cut off any attempt to change direction. They are close.
“We need to go,” I tell her. “Make for the dragon.”
She nods once.
I drive my heels into my horse’s sides. The animal lurches forward with a snort of protest, every muscle in its body telling it to run the other way. Its ears are pinned flat to its skull, and its nostrils are wide, pulling in the scent of the dragon and wanting no part of it. But it is a warhorse. Bred and trained for the madness of battle, for fire, screaming, and the stink of blood and death. That training holds. It goes forward even though every fiber of its being is telling it not to.
Isla is right next to me. Her animal fights her at every stride, jerking its head against the bit, trying to turn, trying to bolt. She corrects it again and again, her legs tight, her hands firm on the reins, forcing the beast’s nose toward the dragon. She speaks to it in a low, steady voice that I cannot make out above the wind, but the tone is calm and sure.
The horses manage another fifty paces before the terror wins.
My horse plants its hooves and refuses to go further. Isla’s horse does the same, sidestepping in tight, panicked circles, its breath coming in high-pitched whines.
“Dismount!” I shout.
My boots hit the ground, and I’m already reaching for Isla. She drops from her own horse a heartbeat later. The moment our weight leaves their backs, both animals spin and bolt. Their hooves churn the mud as they flee back the way we came, manes streaming, tails high, running with the kind of desperate abandon that only true terror produces. They disappear within moments.
I grab Isla’s hand, and we sprint for the dragon.
Orion is already on the ground. He must have jumped from the beast’s back when we dismounted. He stands next to the dragon’s lowered shoulder, one hand on its scales.
“Up you go!” he shouts, his voice booming across the open ground. “Now! There’s no time!”
Isla drops my hand. She runs ahead and grabs the ridge of the dragon’s spine, and hauls herself up and over. She finds footholds, clambering her way up until she is seated between two of the bony protrusions along its back.
Despite the situation we are in, I’m reminded of how she struggled to mount that sorrel not all that long ago.
Things have changed.
I pull myself up as well, sitting behind Isla. I wrap an arm around her waist. She is rigid against me, her eyes on the approaching army.
Orion climbs with the ease of a man who has done this a thousand times. Two quick movements and he is in the front position, his legs locked into place, his hands gripping a ridge of bone.
The army is right on top of us. I can even see the faces of the riders in the lead and their shadows writhing around their fists.
“Delphine!” Orion calls. “To the sky!”
The dragon responds before the words have fully left his mouth.
The lurch is violent. My stomach drops as the beast launches upward with a single, devastating beat of its wings. The force of it presses me down against the dragon’s spine. Isla’s body slams back against my chest, and I tighten my arm around her, holding us both in place.
Arrows fly, the hiss of them cutting the air. One passes so close that I feel the wind of it against my cheek. Another strikesthe dragon’s neck and bounces off the armored scales with a sharp crack, spinning away into the dark.
None finds its mark.
The dragon beats its wings again and again, each stroke carrying us higher. The ground falls away beneath us.
Within heartbeats, we are above it all.
The wind is brutal up here. It tears at my hair and clothing, pulling at my limbs, trying to rip me from the dragon’s back. I lock my arm tighter around Isla, pulling her closer. She grabs my forearm with both hands and holds on.
We fly.
The deadlands roll beneath us.
The dragon banks slightly to the north, and the wind shifts, coming at us from the side. I press my face against Isla’s shoulder to shield my eyes from the worst of it.
