Page 80 of Connor and the Dragons

“But we have a feeling,” I called after her.

She froze, then turned around, her eyebrow quirked ever so slightly. “Both of you?”

“Yes. It’s not a solid feeling. Just… a feeling. Like for no reason at all, I’m very worried that he needs us very much.”

“Then go,” she said. “Both of you. Now. Not on horseback, the dragon should fly.”

“Is he in trouble?” Connor asked. “Do you know something?”

“He is in heat.”

“Told you so,” I sing-songed as Connor shot me a confused look. But I couldn’t explain dragon biology to him at a time like this, because getting to Kessrin was infinitely more important, and I just knew it was.

I sprinted for the door that led to the courtyard, and transformed before I’d even finished stripping, which, in retrospect, was not a thing one should do when they had a tiny wardrobe as it was. Connor was right on my heels, holding the folded bundle of Kessrin’s clothes, and what looked to be part of my shirt.

He stopped and stared at my back, and I really wished I could speak in dragon form. I did an eyebrow wiggle I hoped read as “hop on.”

Vyranthos attempted to take over, surging up in my consciousness with a wave of emotion that made me well aware that he did not approve of people riding us like a pony. But I closed my eyes for a moment and focused on the feeling that Kessrin needed us. I had no idea if it was wild delusion, instinct, or resonance, but it was enough to quiet the restless dragon inside me.

“What do I hold onto?” he asked.

I pointed at the ridge of spines that ran down my back. I mean, obvious.

“I’m going to die,” Connor muttered as he spun around for a moment while I bounced impatiently on my feet, then found a coil of rope lying in a pile in the corner, tying it around my neck.

I decided immediately that I was a fan of rope around my neck in my dragon form, it felt very confining and constricting in the most delightful way, like I was Connor’s obedient pet, which I was. Vyranthos disagreed vehemently with this entire line of thinking.

Connor blew out a breath. “Hold still. And don’t you dare get a fucking hard-on.”

I raised my dragon eyebrows to tell him I was mostly sure that wouldn’t happen. Not when we had to find Kessrin.

He picked up his bundle of clothes, and I flattened myself on the ground, letting him climb onto my back, taking a moment to settle into the smooth part of my back just below my shoulder blades. He was saying something about a better solution, and I did not wait to hear the end of it. I spread my wings, letting them stretch wide, and leaped into the air, winging my way as fast as I could towards the spot where I’d met Connor.

“Shit! I dropped half of the clothing when you just took off,” Connor yelled, laughing a little. “Warn a guy next time.”

Once I reached altitude, I settled into a glide, smooth and fast. It was ten minutes, tops, and I spent every one of them thinking about our ice dragon. He’d been so upset on the island, and between the wedding and our exhaustion, we’d never resolved any of it. What if he was even more upset, now? What if he’d done something reckless?

Fuck, I hoped Kessrin hadn’t tried to go through the mirror.

I saw the high stone wall first. They’d been working hard, but I supposed it made sense. It circled the spot where I’d found Connor, keeping anyone who fell through the mirror inside, and keeping others out. I tilted and circled around, frowning as I saw a strange hole along the top edge of the wall along the North side. I didn’t see Kessrin anywhere.

There were two figures running across the open grass a long way out from the encampment at a dead sprint, and I swung around to see what they were running towards, gasping when I spotted a blue-white heap in the field. Kessrin.

Connor’s shout from my back told me he had seen the same thing.

I flew past the running men, close enough to flatten the grass under them, and I landed in front of Kessrin so hard that I took a furrow out of the ground with my claws as I skidded to a stop. Connor was off my back before I had fully come to a stop, landing in a tumbling roll that somehow looked intentional and ended with him on his feet.

“What the fuck happened?” Connor yelled, and I felt dread rise as I realized the worry that had been eating at me was real. Kessrin was hurt, or worse.

He was on his side and he was not moving. Vyranthos roared to life, fighting to get free, to tear things up, to do violence in Kessrin’s name. I held him down, though I was pleased that for once our interests aligned.

Kessrin’s eyes were shut. There was dirt packed along the whole length of him and a track behind him through the grass that ran back and back, sixty yards of it, ending in a hole in the stone wall where he’d hit it.

His left wing was bent wrong. The joint at the top of it had gone forward out of its seat.

I roared, hoping to wake him, then nuzzled him with my muzzle, as Connor circled closer.

He opened one eye.