“Welldone,Akhane!” Voski said suddenly. “That’s it! Keep it up! Just let go—yes!”
I looked down and realized she’d done it—she’d stopped the heat and light under her scales, which somehow looked even more like the ash of a dead fire, gray shades rippling through her scales that ranged from nearly white, to almost black.
“Good job, Akhane!”
‘Thank you, Little Flame,’she said, but her voice was tight, uneasy. I petted her neck and shoveled reassurance through the bond.
“We’re safe,” I whispered to her. “And you’re working on a way to make us even safer when we’re working, just remember that.”
‘Part of our purpose,’Akhane sent breathlessly.
‘Yes, exactly.’
The light of the day was beginning to fade. Voski was thrilled that she’d been able to douse her flame.
“Fly!” he said quickly, jogging over to his goldscale, Kham. “Fly, and watch her as the sun dips behind the mountains—see how her scales disappear in the twilight without the light to make them glow. It’s humbling to watch.”
Gripping Akhane’s neck strap, I petted her neck and kept encouraging her through the bond as she ran and launched, her wings giving those powerful downflaps to get us off the ground, then soaring when we reached height.
The angle of the sun changed up here, and even though Akhane soared, barely flapping, wheeling high over the Keep, I could feel her unease.
‘He says the more you practice, the easier it will become,’I sent to Akhane. The wind was cold with the sunlight disappearing. I didn’t usually notice it so much, but of course, she’d doused her flame.
Then Voski appeared at her side, showing us how Kham had learned to shroud, blending into the half-light high in the sky.
It was the strangest thing—not that the dragon became invisible, but that the light and shadow of him seemed to sink into his surroundings, so that if I wasn’t looking directly at him, he disappeared from my peripheral vision. But then the light dropped further as the sun disappeared behind the mountains, and only its glow remained in the sky.
Voski directed Kham to fly at Akhane’s wingtip and called his instructions.
“You interfere as little as possible. Just relax and move with her—but watch. Watch her shroud—keep it up, Akhane!”
I felt a shiver in Akhane, as if she was cold. But there was a steely determination, as well.
She flew on, flapping little, wheeling and catching the air-currents, like the hawks when they hunted over the meadows.
“Watch for the timing—pay attention to the level of the sunlight. It will help you choose a time to fly, if you’re trying not to attract notice.”
I gave him the gesture to let him know I’d heard, then did as he said and watched, shaking my head in disbelief as, without the light under her scales, Akhane’s skin seemed to blend with the twilight.
If I looked straight down, past her shoulder, then she showed up more against the contrast of the ground and the shifting colors there, but when I lay on her back and looked up her neck, into the darkening sky ahead, she almost disappeared.
‘You’re doing so well, Akhane,’I reassured her.
‘I do not like this, Bren.’
‘We’ll only do it if we’re hiding—and I don’t think we’ll be doing that on this mission. It’s something we need to practice. And hey, maybe one day we can sneak up on Voski and Kham!’
Akhane gave the little huff of laughter that I felt as a lightness in her heart, but I knew she was fighting her instincts, desperate to ignite that fire and warm her body again.
Soon, Voski, now a pale ghost in the darkening sky, wheeled off.
‘Kham sends that they’re returning to the Keep, and we should as well,’Akhane said, relief heavy in her tone.
‘Perfect. Go ahead and ignite again,’I said.
It took a minute or two, but before we reached the Keep, the underside of Akhane’s scales began to glow again.
The tension in her eased, and I felt a tiny knot unravel in the pit of my stomach, too.
