Page 147 of Black Wing and Shadows
Landon’s phoenix flared with a streak of fire as they leveled. “Remus, has anyone ever told you you’re a joy to fly with?”
“Yes,” Remus said. “And they were lying.”
Everyone let out a chuckle. Nikolai’s dragon rumbled in amusement, a sound that vibrated through the air as they dipped lower. “Enough chatter.Eyes on the ground. Follow the river curve—we’ll set down in the clearing south of the bridge,” Nikolai commanded.
The river widened beneath us, dark and glassy, flowing fast between its banks. Wooden barges dotted the current, their crews pausing to stare upward as wings blotted out the sun. The closer we got, the more faces tilted skyward—villagers spilling from doors.
Esme’s wings flared wide, rippling snow over the patchy fields, a landing made in a rush of displaced air that rattled nearby trees. I clung to the saddle to as she crouched low, steady as stone beneath me. The others thudded down around us, one by one. Nikolai’s dragon shook her wings, and snow scattered across the ground. Korra was seen stalking forward, feathers ruffled with predator’s grace, drawing delighted squeals from watching children before they darted behind their parents. Zane and Remus set down last, wings folded in perfect unison, each standing poised in silence.
The villagers gathered in a cautious half-circle, whispering among themselves. Some bowed their heads. Others crossed their arms tightly.
“Lovely welcoming committee,” Sadie said, sliding down Korra’s side.
“Better stares than arrows,” Nikolai said, his tone edged but amused.
Esme’s eyes swiveled toward me, bluer and sharper,“They look at us as if we are gods.”
I rubbed her neck as I slid stiffly down. Legs wobbled as boots struck frozen earth. The saddle creaked solidly behind me.
Blackmere wasn’t home. Simply a stop on the journey. Yet, after hours above the ground with nerves stretched thin, the scent of woodsmoke and fresh bread drifted from the village was salvation. Once we dismounted our fliers, they launched into the sky, hunting for their own meals in the woods—deer, panthers, whatever could be caught. Riders clustered together, walking into town as a close group.
A few heads turned, a couple of children pointed skyward, then life in the little town carried on. Buckets were hauled from the well. Carts creaked along the cobblestones. Smoke curled from chimneys.
“Everyone here is nice. This is a common stopping ground for fliers and Drusearons. There is some small shopping if you want. The little shop inthe center has delish fresh-baked bread and thick soup that we all drool about…”
“Bread?” Sadie perked up immediately, Korra’s feather still tangled in her hair. “Gods, why didn’t you lead with that?”
“Because I wanted to see which of you would faint from hunger first,” Nikolai said dryly, then started down the cobbled lane without waiting.
We followed in a tight group, boots crunching over patches of ice, our breaths puffing in the cool air. The shop hadn’t been much—a squat stone building with a painted sign of a loaf and a ladle swinging gently above the door. But the smell that hit us when we pushed inside nearly knocked me flat—yeast, broth, and roasting meat, warm enough to melt the frost from our coats.
The female behind the counter didn’t so much as blink at us, just pointed to a chalkboard and asked, “beef or root vegetable?”
“Both,” Landon said, already fumbling for coins.
We crowded the small space, leaning against walls and benches, cradling steaming bowls and fat sandwiches wrapped in paper. The bread was crusty and warm, the soup thick and spiced, the meat salty and tender.
Sadie bit into hers and made a sound that turned more than a few heads. “This is better than the Fall Solstice dinner.”
“Blasphemy,” Landon said through a mouthful of bread. “But accurate.”
Even Remus was eating in silence, a gesture as close to praise as any could receive from him. No attention was drawn to our group—no gawking villagers, no fearful whispers. Only good food was served, warm air warmed us, and a quiet hum drifted through a village where wings had been witnessed overhead too often to impress any longer.
Esme’s bond had grown faint in my chest, content and distant.“You eat. I hunt. We both return full.”
“I really don’t want to hear about your hunting while I am eating.”
I tore off another hunk of bread and dipped it into the broth. For a moment, it was easy to pretend we were just travelers, nothing more. Just hungry cadets in a river town for lunch.
By the time we finished, we scraped the bowls clean, and only crumbs remained of the sandwiches. The shopkeeper didn’t linger over us—just collected our empty bowls, set them aside, and went back to kneading dough as though Riders and Drusearons eating at her counter was the most ordinary thing in the world.
Nikolai wiped his hands on his napkin and stood, voice clipped. “On your feet. We leave as soon as the others arrive.”
We filed out into the crisp air, the cobbled street slick with frost. The sky above had already begun to dim to a bruised gray, with smoke from the chimneys. It hadn’t been long before the second group appeared at the far end of the street, boots crunching on ice, breath misting in the cold. Mooring led them, her pale hair stark against the dark of her cloak. Oliver and Arya flanked her, with Eli just behind, his stride deliberate and steady. Three younger Riders followed, looking flushed from flight, eyes bright with the lingering rush of it.
“Look who finally caught up,” Sadie called, smirking.
“Someone has to keep the rear safe,” Eli shot back smoothly, though his grin betrayed the sting of the long flight.
