Page 34 of Crown of Ashes and Awe

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I woketo the sound of my own scream, to the feel of my stomach falling through my body!

I fought the folds of my coat away from my head and gripped the seat even as Tearloch’s arm clenched tighter around me.

"Hold!" Nogel shouted. "Steady, Grim!"

The old and damaged wings rose, fell, then rose again. There was life in him yet.

Still, we sank so rapidly, I couldn't imagine a soft landing. Tearloch's arm was securely in place—the only thing keeping me from screaming again as the old wings faltered and we fell even faster.

If I grabbed Nogel, it might distract him.

"Come on, old boy," he shouted. "Get us to ground."

Again, the wings rallied, beat against the wind, eased the angle of our dive. Then they stretched, held, and I began to hope. Maybe he'd just fallen asleep, as I had, and was completely awake now.

As the seconds passed, my racing heart slowed slightly. I imagined everyone behind me did the same. Minutes crept by, the fear ebbed, and eventually, Nogel's posture relaxed. Our descent continued at a controlled rate. There was no telling where we would land, but unless we’d travelled for hours while I’d slept, we wouldn’t be close to the palace or anywhere near Ristat.

Nogel had estimated we’d arrive by dawn. If the skies were lighter, I certainly couldn’t tell. Looking out past Grim’s wings, I could barely make out the landscape, but it was closer than before. At least we weren’t in the clouds. If we fell now, we’d still die, but our panic would be shorter.

Then it happened.

I felt a powerful jerk beneath me. Grim’s left wing folded tight against him, and we rolled as if a leg had folded beneath us. I closed my eyes and held tight, grateful for Tearloch’s arm around me, though I felt his weight pull on me, off and on, while we tumbled again and again.

A man shouted from a distance—he must have fallen off!

“Protect the princess!” Nogel shouted. “You can do it!"

Suddenly, I remembered something Dower had said about Dragons pulling energy from heartstone. I fought against Tearloch’s arm so I could stretch far enough to touch the dragonhide beneath me, but he was too strong. I tried again and he pulled me tighter. With no time to explain, I grabbed the tips of his fingers and pealed them away then bent quickly to lay my hand against Old Grim’s papery skin. I ignored a sudden stinging in my side and the wing ripping through my coat and willed the dragon to take power from me.

Still, we rolled with nothing to stop us. Tearloch tried to pull me back, but I batted his hand away.

Grim’s left wing extended again, which made us spin slower, but we were still out of control. It wasn’t until it flapped, weakly, that we stopped and held. The ground came at us like a giant club. It was over.

But then both wings tucked beneath us, and when we spun again, the ground passed over our heads. Another flip, and it was beneath us again, rushing past, then slowing. In one last surge of effort, the ancient wings spread and flapped against the ferocious wind, defying the inevitable crash. We fell straight to the ground. My heart exploded, along with my stomach, but the impact was softened by a bed of a hundred trees…and one dragon’s body.

Air rushed from its lungs…and never rushed in again.

Old Grim had given his last.

For a long time, we sat in silence. I’d so completely prepared myself for death, it took time to believe I was still alive, still breathing in and out, still possessed of my limbs, my wits.

Tearloch held the back of my nightcoat in a death grip. It had pulled free on one side. The fingers of his other hand were imbedded in the cloth of my gown. The seam had ripped open. Cold air caressed my waist where it lay bare, but it was he who shuddered.

I might never have released my hold on the metal seat if I hadn’t felt something wet against me. I pressed my fingers to my skin and when I pulled them away, they were covered with blood. I then remembered that sting and knew the blood must be mine.

Tearloch released me, then grabbed my wrist and held it up for a look. “You’re hurt.”

“Not badly.”

Blood smeared from his glove onto my wrist and he released me. It seemed his tight hold hadn’t just ripped open my dress seam.

“Forgive me,” he murmured.

“I might not be whole otherwise. I am grateful.”

He helped me to the ground, then stripped off his glove and gave it to me. “Use this to staunch the bleeding, for now.” He helped the others disembark while I wandered around to Grim’s motionless head. I hadn’t truly appreciated his size or his majesty before, only worried about the role I was playing.

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