Page 157 of Ashborne: Defiance

Right now, she meant that she wanted to help, and I could trust her to be good.

I smiled.

I had learned my dragon had a playful streak, and liked to tease. I wouldn’t put it past her to be difficult if she thought it was funny.

I just prayed it was an urge she kept to moments between us, or when we weren’t in training.

A few moments later, I had the harness in place, and the buckles checked. I turned to face Ronen and Donavyn. “I’m ready, sirs!” I called as I’d been instructed.

Donavyn nodded, while Ronen trotted over to check my buckles and placement, nodding to himself as he went. “Good. You’re getting it,” he said with a smile. “Now, show me your mount.”

I didn’t hesitate, but ran to Koa’s side, grasping the strap and taking as much momentum in the run up as I could so that I was already a few feet up her leg before I had to start the extremely difficult climb, hand over hand, up the strap.

I was very slow. But Voski’s tip about locking the strap behind my hip to stand for a few seconds and give my arms a rest was a good one.

I managed to reach her withers, hook an elbow over, and clamber up after only a couple of failed attempts to throw my leg over.

I prayed the men didn’t notice when I almost lost my grip and tumbled back to the ground.

My brothers were sympathetic when that happened—and I was getting plenty of practice lying in place and assessing my body for injury. But I felt silly every time.

Once I was in my seat, Ronen formally asked if he could mount Koa. Koa chirped at the same time I nodded. Then he threw himself up the mounting strap without apparent effort—I was so envious of my brothers’ ease—sliding into place behind me as we’d done a dozen times now.

“So, walk me through it before you tell Koa to move,” he said quietly. “What are the steps?”

“Clip into the safety strap. Loop the mounting strap so it won’t dangle around her legs. Make sure I’m centered on her spine. Grip the neck straps with opposing hand positions, then pull up, as hard as I can, and loosen my hips to sink down against her when she starts to move.”

“Very good. Go ahead.”

One by one, I did as I’d described, and then when Ronen urged me to keep going, I told Koa to move, careful to remind myself to do it with words, through the link.

I’d thoughtlessly dug my heels into her sides more than once, because I was so used to horses. I was still apologizing about it.

Ronen rode with me, to help catch me if I fell. I was only allowed to fly—on Koa, or on my brothers’ dragons—if someone else was with me. But I’d stuck the take-off enough times now, that he didn’t put his arms around me. He sat casually behind me, riding her launch without holding onto anything, which was astounding to me.

I’d be a real Furyknight the day I could do that.

There was always a point, just before Koa’s most powerful down-flap to raise us off the ground, that her pace became powerful—and bounced me off her spine.

I was growing stronger and getting better about pulling myself into her back. But I still fell about a third of the time if my trainer didn’t hold me down.

I was glad, with Donavyn standing at the edge of the launch hollow, that I didn’t fall this time. Though my seat slid sideways a little, I stayed upright.

“Very well done, Grace,” Ronen said behind me. “Now, wheel in a figure eight, then take her back down.”

Flying was easy by comparison. I couldn’t wait until I was cleared to fly alone and could practice standing on her back, and casting off, without others there to watch.

I’d seen the brothers doing tricks like that, and it reminded me of the things I’d always done with my horses—even riding them at a canter while I stood on their backs. But it had taken years of riding horses before my balance was good enough for that. I prayed I’d move more quickly with Koa.

She definitely had a much broader back to stand on.

I asked Koa to wheel left in a full circle, then turn and circle right.

Then we positioned to land and Koa began the difficult back-flap that would slow her descent and allow her back feet to hit the ground first—which was extremely jarring. That was the point I usually fell. If I could ride out that moment of impact, I stayed on for the landing.

My nerves trilled as we descended, Ronen quietly reminding me to pull up, but lean back, loosening my hips—where the launch was a forward tilt, the landing had to be ridden leaning back, otherwise I’d pitch off over her shoulder the moment she braced feet on the ground.

I knew, because I’d been stupid enough to try it.