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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Bellamy
Planning to ride a dragon is one thing. Actually mounting one is quite another. But Bellamy doesn’t have time to be afraid as Rakos helps him up Sarka’s massive, scaled shoulder.
“Foot on that ridge, then push up,” Rakos instructs. “Grab that strap, then swing your leg over.” The straps all look the same, and Bellamy just trusts Rakos will tell him what to do. “This will be a little snug. The rig’s built for riding double in an emergency, but not very comfortably. You’ll get up and I’ll get up behind you.”
“You’re really fast at this.” Bellamy tries not to look down. They’re very high up the tower.
“I’m usually faster,” Rakos says. “This is me going slow to make sure you’re safe.”
Stupid slug of a man,Sarka chimes in.Hurry up, or I’ll fly away without you!
Sarka’s body is warm beneath Bellamy, her scales smooth. Not sharp-edged like Bellamy expected, they’re more like a seamless coat of armor plating her ridges and muscles. The harness settles them above and between Sarka’s wings. Her back is broad enough that her passengers won’t interfere with the long wing flaps.
Rakos first straps Bellamy’s thighs in place, then his arms. It doesn’t feel secure until Rakos climbs behind him and buckles the rest of the harness around himself. Bellamy can’t get a good look at most of it.
“What about your right arm?” Bellamy asks, realizing there aren’t enough straps left.
“Right arm stays free to undo the rest.” Rakos pats Bellamy’s shoulder, then says, “Fuck—I forgot about Bastard. I can rig the pouch against your side so you don’t crush her, but she could still blink away.”
“She’ll figure it out?” Bellamy flexes his arms against the leather. “Wait, Sarka, can you explain to Bastard what’s about to happen?”
A moment later, Bastard blinks onto Bellamy’s head, then into the pouch. Rakos tightens the shoulder strap until the pouch sits snug against Bellamy’s side.
The tiny cretin will behave,Sarka says.She flew with me already, and she can blink back if she falls.
Before Bellamy can thank the dragon, or express his disbelief that the blinkmink will behave, Rakos swears. “Enemies incoming. Don’t look down, and remember, I’m right here with you.”
He’s still shouting in Bellamy’s ear when the world drops away beneath them.
Sarka shoves off the side of the tower in a shower of broken rock. Her wings snap out, then narrow in, trailing faint sparks of magic. The entire sky whips past Bellamy, and his stomach lurches.Everythinglurches. He’s grateful he can’t see anything. All he can do is clutch the straps.
Rakos’s broad palm holds his head down, protecting him from whiplash.
After rocketing upward on powerful wing-thrusts, Sarka hovers, balanced stationary in midair. Exhilaration wins out over Bellamy’s terror, and he levers himself up from the saddle enough to catch a glimpse past the blue-scaled shoulder.
The entire broken-towered castle dwindles beneath them. The valley and city below are so small, it’s like standing over a map instead of looking at the real landscape. Draskora’s mountains are a stunning portrait of contrasts—black and violet rock, clear blue sky, cold rivers and harsh elegance. This high up, Bellamy can’t even see the scalestone glow.
“Beautiful,” Bellamy whispers.
The picturesque view shatters in bursts of magic. Sarka wheels away, shadows streaming in her wake. Bellamy has to duck his head as Rakos deflects the incoming magic. The last thing Bellamy sees is a wing of four other dragons lifting from Castle Bernek, with a red-purple shape far in front of the rest—Irenka’s Miklan.
Do we fight? I want to fight!Sarka demands. There’s no audible answer, but a moment later, she rumbles.Ugh. If you insist.She wheels around and takes off at a blistering pace through the sky.
“Can you talk telepathically?” Bellamy shouts, hoping Rakos can hear him past the rushing air. There’s so much Silaise doesn’t know about dragons and dragonriders.
“Just images and feelings, and only to Sarka. It’s faster than talking during battle,” Rakos explains close in Bellamy’s ear. “We’re going to outrace them. Sarka’s the fastest dragon in Draskora. They won’t catch us.”
Bellamy hopes Rakos is right. “I sent a message to Greenhaven. If it arrived in time, we won’t get attacked at the border.”
“Fingers crossed. Wait, when did you do that? You’re so smart.”
Bellamy laughs breathlessly. “Hold the compliments until we know the letter got through.”
Rakos strokes his head, his arm. Kisses behind his ear. “How are you doing?”
