and coincidence, fates be damned—
“Theon!” Michelle yodeled ahead of me. She had reached the front gate of the palace, and was glaring at me. “Jesus Christ, Theon. Let’s go!”
Released from my moment of shock, I was propelled forward with the crowd, and we spilled together onto the front steps into the bitter daylight cold of The Hearthlands. Behind us, the bodies of fellow fire dragons lay crushed, bloodied, and frozen. But all around us and ahead of us, even more of them charged into the streets, seeking either shelter or escape.
----
M ichelle and Einhen stayed close to me as we moved through the tundra, but I could not allow it any longer. Our time was short; certainly, ice soldiers would be sent to blockade the city, and would be swift in dealing “justice” to attempted escapees. And my father… He did not have a moment to lose. On foot? With nothing but some furs, some mason jars of berries, and the gods-forsaken love letter from Pythia? What good were these trinkets to him? He would be dead by nightfall, and we couldn’t make it to the shelter in time.
I had to transform. It was our only hope. If I didn’t lock up in flight—and, of all the fire dragons, I was one of the least likely, because I was one of the biggest—then, when we arrived at the shelter, my torn clothing could be immediately replaced. I had faith in my people. They would rescue me… if I could only make it to their door.
“Michelle! Einhen!” I called to my two companions. “I must transform!” On the steps of the castle—we had only just passed the first barrier of shops—a sudden surge of ice dragons came pouring out. Reserves from the servant quarters. “Einhen! Take my father, and place him onto my back!”
“Are you sure, my lord?” He asked the question, knowing its answer, and so I said nothing in response, but bowed my head and allowed the natural fire in my body to overtake me.
The spines tore through and shredded my clothing. I usually preferred to undress and fold my clothing, not destroy it uselessly, but I had no time now. In dragon form, my hide would become almost impenetrable, but my size was also a setback. The ice dragons would see me take flight… but I could only pray they would be too mired in other fire dragons to follow suit. Michelle had set half of their dungeon free in our escape.
As I elongated, ballooned, and felt invigorated by the fire within, for a few moments, the surrounding ice land would not hinder me. I had managed flight in the December of Penelope’s country, but that December had not been as harsh as The Hearthlands were now.
Einhen nimbly ascended my shoulder blades, and I felt him secure my father at the wide base of my scaled neck. Michelle next straddled my shoulders directly behind Einhen, and with a powerful downward thrust of my wings, I tore into the sky, glaring against the frosty clouds overhead, beating my way over the city below—I could easily see the chaos in the streets—and then, as arrows of ice sang in the air around us, we passed the entrance to the city itself, blocked as I had expected… and, finally, the long and lonely stretch of arctic wasteland, on the tip of which we would find the fire dragon shelter.
N early collapsing into the deep snow drifts surrounding the dead trees which marked the entrance to the shelter, I realized that my left wing had gone totally numb and only continued to beat by sheer perseverance. After Einhen pulled my father and Michelle down into the snow with him, I shrank into my human form, shuddering uncontrollably, and my eyes bulged with shock. Gods. An ice arrow had sunk into my left shoulder, and the skin around the wound was turning blue.
Einhen moved swiftly, recognizing the severity of both my wound and my vulnerability nude. He and Michelle worked together to find and open the shelter door, sealed shut with ice yet again, whilst I held my now unconscious father with my one good arm. He was so light… It was
“Theon!” Michelle yodeled ahead of me. She had reached the front gate of the palace, and was glaring at me. “Jesus Christ, Theon. Let’s go!”
Released from my moment of shock, I was propelled forward with the crowd, and we spilled together onto the front steps into the bitter daylight cold of The Hearthlands. Behind us, the bodies of fellow fire dragons lay crushed, bloodied, and frozen. But all around us and ahead of us, even more of them charged into the streets, seeking either shelter or escape.
----
M ichelle and Einhen stayed close to me as we moved through the tundra, but I could not allow it any longer. Our time was short; certainly, ice soldiers would be sent to blockade the city, and would be swift in dealing “justice” to attempted escapees. And my father… He did not have a moment to lose. On foot? With nothing but some furs, some mason jars of berries, and the gods-forsaken love letter from Pythia? What good were these trinkets to him? He would be dead by nightfall, and we couldn’t make it to the shelter in time.
I had to transform. It was our only hope. If I didn’t lock up in flight—and, of all the fire dragons, I was one of the least likely, because I was one of the biggest—then, when we arrived at the shelter, my torn clothing could be immediately replaced. I had faith in my people. They would rescue me… if I could only make it to their door.
“Michelle! Einhen!” I called to my two companions. “I must transform!” On the steps of the castle—we had only just passed the first barrier of shops—a sudden surge of ice dragons came pouring out. Reserves from the servant quarters. “Einhen! Take my father, and place him onto my back!”
“Are you sure, my lord?” He asked the question, knowing its answer, and so I said nothing in response, but bowed my head and allowed the natural fire in my body to overtake me.
The spines tore through and shredded my clothing. I usually preferred to undress and fold my clothing, not destroy it uselessly, but I had no time now. In dragon form, my hide would become almost impenetrable, but my size was also a setback. The ice dragons would see me take flight… but I could only pray they would be too mired in other fire dragons to follow suit. Michelle had set half of their dungeon free in our escape.
As I elongated, ballooned, and felt invigorated by the fire within, for a few moments, the surrounding ice land would not hinder me. I had managed flight in the December of Penelope’s country, but that December had not been as harsh as The Hearthlands were now.
Einhen nimbly ascended my shoulder blades, and I felt him secure my father at the wide base of my scaled neck. Michelle next straddled my shoulders directly behind Einhen, and with a powerful downward thrust of my wings, I tore into the sky, glaring against the frosty clouds overhead, beating my way over the city below—I could easily see the chaos in the streets—and then, as arrows of ice sang in the air around us, we passed the entrance to the city itself, blocked as I had expected… and, finally, the long and lonely stretch of arctic wasteland, on the tip of which we would find the fire dragon shelter.
N early collapsing into the deep snow drifts surrounding the dead trees which marked the entrance to the shelter, I realized that my left wing had gone totally numb and only continued to beat by sheer perseverance. After Einhen pulled my father and Michelle down into the snow with him, I shrank into my human form, shuddering uncontrollably, and my eyes bulged with shock. Gods. An ice arrow had sunk into my left shoulder, and the skin around the wound was turning blue.
Einhen moved swiftly, recognizing the severity of both my wound and my vulnerability nude. He and Michelle worked together to find and open the shelter door, sealed shut with ice yet again, whilst I held my now unconscious father with my one good arm. He was so light… It was
Similar Books
