Page 52 of The Last Slayer
The next afternoon, Ramiel and I went to the amphitere platform. The sky was cerulean satin with a disk of gold. The clouds looked so soft and close, I felt as if I could reach out and pluck them like dandelions.
Velvet coverlets with the Besade crest were draped over two amphiteres. The wind shook my ponytail and cut through my silk blouse and pants. But I wasn’t cold. Anticipation pumped adrenaline through my body, making me oblivious to minor discomfort. Finally I was going to meet the last slayer, supposedly my mother, and get the antidote for Valerie. My palms went slick as I touched the sword Ramiel had given me the night before. It hung from my back and seemed to grow heavier with each passing second. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was nervous. What if Leh only wanted to use me to avenge her people against the dragonlords? Did I want to become the instrument of her retribution?
I mean, the whole thing was over and done with before I was born. It was none of my business. And there was that other thing about her past as Nathanael’s singer. I still couldn’t decide what to make
of that.
At the same time, I could understand where she was coming from if she wanted revenge. Look how long I’d been trying to avenge Miguel. Did it make me a hypocrite if I didn’t want to get involved in the drama?
A long red cloak settled lightly over my shoulders. My hands closed automatically over the fleece-soft fabric.
“It will be cold.”
Ramiel fastened the cloak for me, his fingers hot where they grazed my skin. My heart picked up a beat, but I remained still. The clasp was a beautiful gold brooch that had three drakes coiled around a pearl. They blinked up at me and, apparently satisfied, returned to sleep.
When he was done he laid the fingers of one hand gently on my cheek, then let them trail down in a featherlight caress.
“Thanks,” I said, my voice scratchy. I cleared my throat.
He also wore a cloak. It was moon white and its hem swirled around his ankles. He stepped back and gestured at the pale blue amphitere on the right. “She’s fairly gentle and will give you a smooth flight.”
The dragon glanced at me with slitted golden eyes and bared her teeth. They were sharp and serrated like a shark’s. Maybe she was as gentle as a shark too.
I took a small step away from the amphitere. “Why aren’t we teleporting?”
A small smile. “Would you prefer to?”
“About as much as I want to get punched in the stomach. But it’s quick, and we don’t have much time.”
“The Lunar Garden is not that far, the amphiteres need their exercise, and you need to learn how to ride.”
“I see.” But I didn’t, really. “Why aren’t you riding your amphitere?”
“I beg your pardon?”
I was stalling, but I didn’t want to get on the “gentle” dragon. “You know, the one you rode before? On I-66?”
“Ah. It isn’t good to ride the same creature too often. That one is resting now.” Ramiel cocked his head. “Do you intend to mount?”
“Of course.”
“It may prove difficult from that distance.”
“I didn’t want to get in the way.”
His eyes crinkled slightly. “Of course. Show your mastery and she will obey you.” He crooked his finger. “Come.”
Right. I didn’t even know how to ride a horse. What was I doing trying to ride a fricking dragon?
I had no idea what mastery Ramiel was talking about, but after thinking about it a moment, I realized it made no sense for me to be afraid of the thing. After all, I now knew how to use draco perditio, and there was no way that blue beast could block it. I walked closer, mentally prepping the first elements of the spell. Power filled my mouth and nose, made my fingertips tingle. I reached out toward the amphitere’s head. She jerked back, her eyes wide and rolling.
“Obey me,” I said, in standard dragon dialect.
She stretched out her neck in submission. I sighed with relief and let the power subside. It left me feeling a little drained, but had been worth it to show the dragon who was boss.
Ramiel gave me another amused look but didn’t say anything except, “Pay attention.” He went to his silver amphitere and grabbed the leash. “Take it like so.” He showed me how to wrap it around my hand. “You’re right-handed, so you should hold it with your left. Never let your sword arm get tied up.”
I did as he demonstrated. The leather rein felt solid and tight in my hand. Right, somehow.
