He banked to the left and climbed until we were slicing through the damp mist. Here, in the sky, we weren’t a witch and a dragon shifter. We were one entity.
Once he’d stabilized us within the cloud, I opened my bag. Cold air shot past us, and moisture clung to my skin. I reached out with my magic and levitated a billow of fine mineral dust from one of the pouches. Chanting softly, I infused the glittering cloud with a cold charge, shaping the energy with my hands.
“Crystallization nuclei,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. The dust shimmered in the diffused light, a miniature galaxy of potential. “They’ll give the water vapor something to cling to.”
With a final push, I cast the dust into the swirling mist. For a moment, nothing happened. Then I felt the subtle shift in the cloud’s internal temperature, the first microscopic ice crystals beginning to form.
It was working.
As I began preparing the next pouch, an image flashed through my mind, his perspective of me sitting on his back, surrounded by a faint aura of light, my hair whipping in the wind, my hands weaving spells that were remaking the sky.
You’re amazing,he said.
My heart stuttered. My concentration broke. A sudden, unplanned flurry of snowflakes swirled around us. I gasped, quickly reining in my magic. A flush of heat spread across my cheeks despite the cold.
Focus, Adele, he teased.
I smiled until my cheeks ached.
We flew back and forth, a meticulous, exhausting pattern across the sky. Clouds slowly began to gather,drawn in by my magic, and I seeded each, my energy draining as I cast magic with meticulous care. Raoul’s flight remained flawless, his wings beating a steady rhythm that I found myself matching my breathing to.
We were on the westernmost leg of the final pass when the air beneath us gave way. A violent downdraft slammed into us, trying to rip us from the sky.
A gasp tore up my throat as he plummeted, and I latched onto his spine spike, nearly losing my grip on my bag of supplies. The ground rushed up to meet us. I flattened myself against Raoul’s back, digging my fingers into the ridges between his scales, my knuckles white. Fear shot through me. We were going to crash.
He roared. His wings beat harder, each stroke vibrating through my bones. He fought the air, his powerful body straining against the force dragging us down. Our fall slowed, and he pivoted, clawing his way back up until we were clear of the turbulence and back in stable air.
My fear evaporated, replaced by awe. I’d seen his strength with his advisors and felt it in his arms, but this was different. This was the untamed power of a dragon king refusing to be conquered.
I laid my hand on his neck and sent my gratitude through the touch, a wave of emotion I couldn’t put into words.
A low rumble moved through his chest.I will never let you fall.
After that, the final pass was almost easy. My magic flowed, and soon, the last of the mineral dust had been dispersed. I sank back, exhausted but exhilarated, every muscle in my body aching.
“It’s done,” I said.
He banked away from the clouds and as I squinted overmy shoulder, I saw that the cloud formations had changed. They were merging, darkening, churning with a new, heavy energy. The sky to the west of Brightmore Valley was transforming.
One final spell, the biggest of all, set this pattern so that rain would return to the village on a regular interval, breaking the anomaly for this cycle.
We landed in the village square to hushed silence. Raoul shifted back to his usual form, his face beaded with sweat, his breathing still heavy from flying so long and so carefully. He moved over to stand beside me, his arm going around my waist.
The sky had a bruised, angry purple tinge to it. The air hung with the promise of a storm, so still it felt like the world was holding its breath. Every villager had their faces tilted upward.
A pang of anxiety shot through my exhaustion. The science was sound. The magic was done. But theory and reality were two different things. What if the cloud deviated and spilled its rain elsewhere? I’d hate to fail these people.
Raoul didn’t look at me, his gaze fixed on the sky, but he stroked my side.
“It will work,” he said. “I have faith in you.”
And then it happened. A single, fat raindrop landed in the dust at Piper’s feet, creating a dark, star-shaped crater. A gasp went through the crowd. Another drop hit my cheek. A third splattered onto Sebastian’s bald head.
The sky tore open.
A torrential downpour erupted, a deluge of water that slammed into the parched earth. It roared, drumming on the roofs, turning the dusty square into a sea of mud in seconds.
The village erupted into pure joy. Cheers and laughterand ragged sobs of relief all blended together. People rushed around in the downpour, their arms outstretched, letting the rain wash over them. Quinn’s little girl, who’d been watching from their doorway, shrieked and ran out to stomp her feet in a puddle. A few children shifted into their small dragon forms and soared up into the rain, catching drops on their tongues.
