26
ELOWEN
Theron’sDrakelooks different when he’s bigger.He’smore intimidating, for one thing—bigger than a house, with a head larger than my whole body.Ireally think ifIhadn’t met him first in his smaller form,Imight have fainted or run away.
Luckily,Iremember how sweet and kind he is andI’mable to hold my ground whenTheronShiftsagain—this time into the huge version of hisDrake.
We’re out of town, of course—he can’tShiftwithin the limits.Hewould frighten his neighbors and customers.Sowe walk together to the outskirts of theOldForestand once we’re out of sight,Theronhands me the heavy bag of supplies, takes several large steps back, and thenShifts.
The change is fast but still breathtaking.Onemoment he’s a man…and the next the massiveDrakestands before me, silver scales glinting in the sunlight, wings folded tight against his enormous body.
The huge creature lowers his head to look at me andIfind myself going weak in the knees as a golden eye—easily the size of a dinner plate—studies me.
“Hey,”Isay softly, lifting a hand to him.Hecould eat me in one bite in this form butI’mnot afraid—well, not much.
My faith in him is rewarded when he snorts—very gently—and rubs the side of his massive snout against my outstretched palm.
“Good boy,”Imurmur, stroking the sleek silver scales.They’rewarm beneath my fingers, almost silky.“Aw…you’re just a big sweetheart, aren’t you?”
He huffs again—a low rumble of sound—and then lowers himself to the ground.Onehuge foreleg stretches out, bending soIcan climb up on his back.
“Thank you,”Itell him, thoughI’mnot sure if he understands the words or just the tone.
Balancing the bag of provisions,Istep onto his foreleg and carefully climb up, settling myself between two of his long dorsal spines.Theridges give me something to brace against, whichI’mgrateful for—because once we’re in the air,Ihave a feelingI’llneed it.
I shift a little, finding my balance, pressing my hand lightly to the warm scales beneath me.
“Okay,”Itell him.“IthinkI’mready.”
He turns his great head, one golden eye blinking back at me, andIget the distinct impression he’s checking—making sureI’msettled safely and comfortably.
“I’m good,”Itell him, a little more firmly this time.“Goahead…let’s take off.”
He snorts once in acknowledgment and turns forward…then his wings spread.
They’reenormous—each one broad as the sail of a ship—the thin membranes catching the light as they rise.Fora moment there’s only stillness…and then they move together in a massive downbeat.
Wind rushes around me, tugging at my hair and clothes, and the ground begins to fall away beneath us.
Another beat and then another andanother.
With each powerful stroke, we climb higher into the sky.Thewind rushes past me, cool and sharp against my face, tugging strands of hair loose from the hasty braidIput it in earlier.Itighten my grip instinctively, fingers curling against the smooth, warm scales beneath me.
The flight is dizzying—breathtaking.I’venever been so high before.
The world spreads out beneath us like a tapestry, every detail shrinking and shifting the higher we rise.TheOldForeststretches wide and deep—a sea of green that ripples in the wind, the tops of the trees swaying like waves.Ican just make out the narrow path we took to get here—a thin, pale thread winding through the darker green.
Beyond that lies the town.Fromup here, it looks so small.Thehouses are no more than toy blocks, their rooftops clustered together in neat little rows.Thetemple rises above them all—its pale stone catching the light, the gardens surrounding it like a carefully tended jewel.
For a moment, my chest tightens—that was my whole world and nowI’mleaving it—at least for a while.Alreadyit feels impossibly far away and it’s only getting farther.
TheDrake’swings beat again, stronger this time, and we surge higher still.Theair grows colder…thinner, andIpress myself a little closer to his back, grateful for the steady heat that radiates from him.Itseeps into me, chasing away the chill and making me feel safe, even though we’re so high in the air.
Ahead of us, the land begins to change.Theendless green gives way to rougher terrain—rolling hills first, then jagged outcroppings of stone that thrust up from the earth like broken teeth.Thecolors shift too, from rich greens to dusty browns and grays, until at lastIsee them—the northern mountains.
They rise in the distance like a wall of jagged teeth at the edge of the world.Buteven from here, they lookwrong.
They’re too sharp—too steep.Theirpeaks are serrated and uneven, clawing at the sky, some capped with snow that gleams cold and distant in the sunlight.Shadowscling to their sides—deep and dark—as though the light itself hesitates to touch them.