Page 241 of Eldritch
That was the problem—I hadn’t gotten so far as to imagine myself riding him, let alone climbing onto his back. A dizzying wave of nausea gurgled in my chest at the thought of falling off.
With a swift grip, she seized my arm. “Do you want to find him or not?” She placed my gloved hand on Raivox again. “Climb onto him.”
Exhaling a breath, I curled my fingers into his scales, the rough texture gritty like sandpaper. As if recognizing my intent, he lowered his head, waiting. The claws clung to the scales, and I easily hauled myself up the length of his body until I reached the mantle—the flat stretch between his wings—where I settled myself.
“Find something to hang onto. Tightly.”
Through the mass of scales and feathers, I spied two small horns that curved back from his neck, as if designed intentionally, and leaned slightly forward to grip hold. A strange vibration hummed across my palm, the veins of the glove glowing, and Raivox lurched a step, jerking me against his body. My heart slammed into my ribs, pounding a rhythm of fear. Not daring to look down, I closed my eyes, breathing through my nose. The wind blew through my hair as I took a moment to calm myself.
“Now what?” I croaked.
“Now speak to him.”
“Speak to him? Is there a language I’m supposed to use?”
“He doesn’t speak in any language. He knows your thoughts. Speak to him with your mind.”
As foolish as it sounded, I nodded and shuttered my eyes.“Raivox? Take me to The Rotting Tree.”
A long, dragging scrape grated in my ear and I opened my eyes to see Raivox preening his feathers again.
“I don’t think the glove is working.” I peered down to where Erithanya stood beside Aleysia and Corwin, my stomach twisting at the height. “He doesn’t seem to understand what I’m saying.
“Try a different command!” she shouted back.
“A different command,” I muttered. “Okay.Stop preening.”
Raivox kicked his head to the side and slowly lowered the leg he’d been picking at.
“Sharpen your beak on the stones.”
His head jerked forward, and just as he’d done when he first landed, he scraped his beak over the jagged rocks.
“So, it appears he does understand.” The priestess’s voice held a hint of amusement, and I turned to see her smiling up at me.
“Take me to The Rotting Tree.”
A deep, guttural growl rumbled in his chest, and he let out a caw, but didn’t move.
“Raivox, take me. To The. Rotting Tree.” I articulated every word that time.
He hopped a step.
I slid across his back, scrambling to take hold of those horns again, and exhaled a shaky breath.
“What happened?” It was Aleysia who asked that time.
“I firmly believe he’s refusing to take me.”
The priestess shrugged. “Well, then. You have your answer. You can’t force a dragon to take you somewhere, after all. They are bigger.”
“And vicious,” Corwin added.
Teeth grinding in my head, I scowled back at his neck.“Zevander is in danger. I need to go to The Rotting Tree. Right now.”
Still the bull-headed beast refused to move!
“It seems Morsana chose a stubborn one for you.” The priestess’s chuckle grated on me. “How unfortunate. If it’s all the same to you, I’m going to return to the village now.”
