“Adaline!” he roared again, his voice now thunderous and deep with his dragon form. But there was no answer—only the soft, strange white mist that was dissolving into the ether.
He burst through a veil of cloud—then froze, suspended in awe for a single heartbeat.
Below him spread a breathtaking isle.
Jagged cliffs jutted from the sea like ancient guardians, their ragged walls draped in mist. Waterfalls tumbled down like strands of spun silver, feeding into glistening rivers that cut through lush green canyons. The very land shimmered with magic—trees that breathed, rocks that hummed, and glowing lights drifting lazily in the air.
It was beautiful.
And dangerous—if the way his dragon was clawing at the air meant anything.
A sudden shift in the air made his scales bristle. A low hum, almost musical, rose around him—a current of energy he hadn’t noticed until it was too late.
The wind beneath him twisted.
Hard.
A spiraling tunnel of air formed without warning, sucking him in with the force of a vortex.
“What the heck?!” Bálint exclaimed, his wings straining against the invisible pull. But it was like trying to fly against a hurricane.
He was spiraling—no, rocketing—through the tunnel of wind, twisting and diving like a leaf in a storm.
The speed hit him like a fist.
Just like Aunt Cara’s ‘coaster, he thought wildly. The new one she built to look like a spaceship out of control in the amusement park. All the upside-down loops made Roam puke.
Only this wasn’t a ride. This was real—and the ground was coming up fast.
Trees loomed ahead—massive ones, their trunks glowing with pulses of energy, branches stretching skyward like arms.
“Steady—steady—!” he warned his dragon.
“You try being steady! This not roller coaster—this worse! This make me sick!” his dragon snapped back.
Bálint decided to keep his mouth shut. The last thing he needed was to distract his dragon and crash. At this speed, he wasn’t sure even his dragon could survive. A second later, he was glad he had when the wind tunnel suddenly sent him tumbling head over tail. Branches whipped past him in a blur of green and gold.
And then?—
Snap!
His body slammed to a stop midair with the wind tunnel still surging past him before it disappeared like it had never been there.
Nausea rolled his stomach. Even as his brain continued to swirl with dizziness, he was able to process that he was hanging in midair—upside down. What he couldn’t figure out was why he wasn’t falling.
His dragon groaned. Bálint winced when he sensed the bile rising in his dragon’s throat. He was sure the poor beast was about to hurl the junk food he had eaten before they left Valdier.
“Don’t puke. Please don’t puke. I really don’t want you to hurl all over the place—” he silently pleaded.
His dragon shuddered and breathed in a deep, steadying breath before exhaling. It was only when his dragon tried to move that Bálint realized that they were stuck.
In something very sticky.
And silken.
And super strong.
“Please no…” his dragon groaned. “I no like spiders.”
