Page 53 of The Last Slayer
“Now, hop onto the back using the lowered wing as your step,” he said and jumped lightly onto the wing of his mount and then onto its back.
That was trickier. The wing scales were smooth and provided no traction. I slipped ignominiously a couple of times and finally managed to climb on, hugging the amphitere’s back with all four limbs.
“Unless you intend to make love to the animal,” Ramiel said, “I suggest you stand.”
My face warmed at the thought of making love, and I scrambled quickly to a standing position.
“Yes, like that. Place your feet about shoulder-width apart.” He demonstrated, then waited until I did as he instructed. “Now dig your toes in under the large scales of either side of the spine, wherever is most comfortable.”
I ran my feet over the dragon’s back, found good spots and wedged my feet in. They provided an additional sense of security, if this whole dragon-riding thing could be called safe in the first place.
“Use them to control your amphitere,” Ramiel said. “Gentle pressure with your left or right foot. She’s quite intelligent and well trained, so she usually knows what to do.”
I nodded.
“Very well. Let us go.”
With a cry, Ramiel pulled on his leash and his amphitere rose into the air with a colossal flapping of wings. Mine followed, her body pressing up under my feet like an enormously powerful elevator. Despite Ramiel’s advice, I immediately grabbed the rein with both hands, sword arm be damned.
The flight was like half water skiing and half horseback riding. It might’ve been more fun if I enjoyed either activity. The cloak provided much-needed protection against the wind at this altitude. Through the soles of my shoes, I could feel the amphitere’s muscles contracting regularly to push us upward. Standing up made me feel unstable, especially with those muscles rippling under me like rolling waves. But I couldn’t imagine sitting down either. Amphiteres are too big to straddle unless you want to remain in a near-horizontal split for hours. Not my idea of a comfortable ride.
Our mounts flew confidently, quietly, born to be in the air. Unlike the wyverns, their wings made very little noise. Ramiel was right about mine being sweet-natured. She was content to glide gently over the air currents, and I eventually was able to relax and use just one hand on the rein. The muscle movement became as soothing as small waves in a cove. There was a gentle rhythm I found comforting. Ramiel’s dragon was the showy one, molding its body to the wind and having way too much fun. I would’ve fallen off it. Or else puked all over its back.
I glanced around, slightly nervous that the Triumvirate of Madainsair might send someone to attack me. As unschooled as I was in flying, there wouldn’t be much I could do to defend myself.
We flew over moist clouds that hinted at early summer showers. The clean crisp air stung my unprotected nose and hands. The temperature here was low, below freezing even in summer. But whatever the cloak covered wasn’t cold. Thank god for small favors.
Once I got the hang of the flying, other things started popping up in my mind. Ramiel and I were alone, and we didn’t have to worry about prying eyes or some spying Wind of Nathanael’s. Which meant I had some private time to interrogate Ramiel about Leh, Nahemah and so on.
But every time I turned to ask a question, his amphitere pulled away to engage in another complex acrobatic trick. None of the others I’d seen had been this busy showing off.
I began to smell a large blond rat and gritted my teeth against the rising irritation. Probably there was nothing left to discuss as far as he was concerned. After all, I was a mortal, he was the cool demigod, and he was doing me a big favor by keeping me alive. Never mind that I was doing him a favor by going along with this harebrained scheme to save Valerie so that he could keep his mysterious vow…which of course I didn’t need to know about because he was the one doing the keeping.
After what seemed like hours, Ramiel’s amphitere folded its wings and plunged toward the ground. Mine dove as well. Neither bothered to glide, and I instantly resumed my two-handed death grip on my rein. If this was what skydiving felt like, I was never trying it.
Gravity dragged us down, and with each passing second we fell faster. The wind whipped my entire body so hard my teeth rattled. My eyes teared up; my face and hands started to hurt, then went numb.
Dense forests expanded rapidly underneath us. Neither of the amphiteres seemed concerned about stopping our freefall. The trees below zoomed into individual view.
Suddenly, my balance shifted, and I almost fell. Our amphiteres had turned parallel to the ground and were nav
igating along the treetops. Ramiel’s ride’s cry pierced the still air. He sounded proud of his acrobatic skills. My amphitere’s belly skimmed the leaves, leaving them rustling in our wake. Startled birds burst from the branches, wings beating furiously. Ramiel maneuvered his amphitere close to mine.
“Before we arrive at the Lunar Garden, I…don’t ever forget Nahemah’s loyalty is to herself,” he said. “If the rumors are true, she wishes to bed Semangelaf.”
“The guy who turns stuff around him frosty.”
“Yes.”
“Why? She might as well mount a stalagmite.”
Ramiel gave me a look. “It is of no moment to her. He has always ignored her, and thus it becomes a challenge and she desires him all the more.”
Great. “Are they working together to get me?”
“I don’t know. But were I her, I would approach him and make an offer—your head for his bed.”
“And the probability of him accepting is—?”
