Page 111 of Swift Wings Shadowed Heart
“I don’t know Skysinger Wyndward well enough yet, but I don’t get the impression she’s a cold-blooded killer.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.”
I salute and reach for the doorknob.
“Stormsong.”
Stopping, I look over my shoulder.
“Make sure you bring her back. I don’t want Cragmere breathing down our backs. We have enough problems as it is.”
“Yes, Commander.”
46
Rhea
We fly southwest, ominous clouds seeming to follow our progress. Below, the fertile ground soon gives way to craggy terrain, a desolate land too barren and dangerous for any Embernians to settle on. The Screechclaws have been a threat for a thousand years—at first a minor one because we were powerful, protected by many dragons. But with the centuries, they have chipped away at that strength, methodically killing dragons that will never be replaced if Heratrix doesn’t return.
I don’t like that Vaylen isn’t with us, and that Prime Emberstone wouldn’t tell us why. She just said he would join us later.
Restless, I keep looking backward, trying to make out Fragor’s shape in the distance. An hour passes before I see something. But it isn’t one shape. It’s two. Also noticing their approach at the front of the formation, Prime Emberstone slows down marginally, and the newcomers soon catch up with us. The other rider is Dakar Cloudwalker, a powerful addition that can only strengthen our effort. He rides his silver dragon—a creature with a pointed snout by the name of Notos—with great confidence.
As he flies beside me to take his spot at the front, Vaylen’s gaze locks with mine. The vibe I get from him makes me wonder if he isn’t happy with me. But I must be misreading his energy. I haven’t done anything wrong.
Some time later, the Flametop Mountains come into view. We continue flying east of them, following a straight line that defies the range’s twists and turns. The farther south we move, the taller the mountains grow, until they loom above us. Their presence is intimidating, feeling like that of sleeping giants that might, at any point, awaken from their slumber to bare their jagged teeth at us. We see no signs of life, no signs of our enemies, whose territory lies on the other side of the range.
After another hour, Vaylen finally starts a sharp descent toward a clearing nestled at the foot of one of the less imposing peaks, a small, mirror-like lake positioned next to it. The plan he outlined this morning involves stopping on the opposite side of the peaks encircling the small valley where the town lies. Here, we will rest while a small party scouts and assesses the situation from a distance.
In moments, everyone Drops to the ground one by one as their dragons swoop down and away. As silent as butterflies, the nine dragons that form our task force find places to perch on the ragged terrain. Vaylen waits for everyone to join before issuing orders.
“We’ll rest for fifteen minutes,” he says. “Drink and eat, but don’t get too comfortable. Be ready for anything.”
“Yes, High Prime,” everyone responds in unison.
Vaylen spares me a moment, meeting my gaze, but too quickly, he turns to Dakar and starts discussing something in hushed tones. The calm he exuded this morning is gone. Whatever kept him from leaving with us seems to have shattered his composure.
My eyes rove around the clearing and meet Silas’s gaze. His upper lip curls as if he’s smelled something foul.Grand!I turn my back on him and spot a rock. I sit, facing the lake, wishing Phoebe, Nate, or Adelaide were here. But Vaylen only selected one unseasoned rider from the Skysingers, Skyblazes, Skybolts, and Skydunes.
I pull out a piece of jerky out of my satchel and chew on it.
Someone appears to my right. “Mind if I sit?”
It’s Omari Reefsong. Her last name suggests she should be a Skytide, but she’s actually a Skybolt. Her hair is neatly pulled back into a perfect bun as is expected, and she looks just as beautiful as when she lets it loose to form a cloud around her rich brown face. Three small jewels line the underside of each coffee-colored eye. We shared many classes at the Academy, often pairing up to work on team tasks. At Sky’s Edge, she preferred the company of the Skyforges, however, but they’re not here now.
“Sure don’t,” I mumble, then wash down the jerky with a mouthful from my canteen.
She’s Scaleborn from the Scale Coast, a territory that borders the Tide of Embers Sea or just the Embers Sea for short. Tiny bioluminescent dragon-like creatures live in the water. They say, at night, the waters light up, giving the impression that an enormous city lies under water… hence the name.
“I had to get away from Silas,” she says. “He won’t shut up about how wonderful he’s going to be when he finally kills his first Screechclaw.”
“Ha, I honestly don’t know how I put up with him at the Academy.”
“Oh, he wasn’t so bad then, but he’s definitely gotten worse. He acts like a boastful adolescent, and not the man he’s supposed to be.”
Omari has always been the kind of person who speaks with honesty. I like that about her. I never have to wonder what she thinks because I know she’ll tell me.
“How did training treat you,” I ask. “I hate that we haven’t had much time to catch up.”
