Page 21 of Under Restless Skies

With no storm, dragons will be able to fly again. Our solace is about to end.

“How long?” I ask. “Until we get to Dracolius?”

“With a good wind? Some three, four hours.”

My entire body trembles. “If that rider follows us, we won’t be able to outrun him.”

Alayel swallows. “Indeed.”

I’m trying to think, find a solution. “What if we abandon the boat? Swim to the shore?”

He lets out a bitter chuckle. “We’ll be in the riders’ lands. They’ll find us.”

“We’re in the riders’ sea. They can find us now. And a boat is a much bigger target, easier to spot than two people.”

He raises a finger in the air. “But faster. And nobody’s coming after us yet.”

I take a deep breath, trying to loosen the knot in my chest. What if that dragon doesn’t want to hurt me? Perhaps he flew away and won’t alert anyone. Maybe he left the rider on the island, where he won’t be able to do anything.

A wave of terror seizes me.

None of these thoughts are true. I know that more dragons are coming after us. Every part of my body knows it, feels it, even if I don’t understand why.

“They’re coming, Alayel.”

He points to the net with the eggs. “We have something they want. Let’s wait. Perhaps Foros will bless us.”

My body is stiff and taut, and, for a moment, I consider jumping overboard, leaving this boat, and letting Alayel stay here with the eggs, if he’s so confident that he can deal with the dragons. But what am I going to do alone in the sea, near a rocky shore where I might not even find a way to get onto land? And it’s the enemy’s territory.

I have to hope nobody will chase us. Trying to distract myself, I turn to Alayel. “That third man, was he your friend?”

He’s staring at the sky, obviously much more worried than he’s pretending to be. “No. Must have been another smuggler.”

“You fight well.” I’m not sure why I make that comment, what I want to find out.

“Didn’t have the privilege not to need it.” His gaze meets mine. “What about you? How exactly did you learn to kill people while working in a restaurant?”

Kill. I’m a murderer. The word doesn’t fit, as if the memory of what I just did was some strange nightmare.

I chuckle, even if there’s nothing funny about it. “Well, the stew pot is heavy.”

The image of that man hitting the wall will remain forever engraved in my mind, while his gross touch will be etched in my skin.

But right now, we need to stay alert and survive. I survey the skies again, as if keeping a watchful eye could make a difference, as if there was anything we could do against dragons.

My heart is making a racket in my chest, and I’m not even sure I’m breathing, as the clouds dissipate overhead. The sun is lowering on the horizon behind us, turning the clouds pink against a firmament that looks more and more purple with each second.

No dragons yet.

Alayel finally turns and goes to the wheelhouse to take the helm, as the island gets smaller and smaller in the distance. I wonder why that dragon saved me, what happened to him, but I mostly wonder where that rider went, why he isn’t following us, and why he didn’t try to kill Alayel or finish killing me.

I saw the rider only for a few seconds, and still recall his hard eyes on me, his strange staff, and that deadly magic.

He would have been eerily handsome, if it wasn’t for that disconcerting stare—and the fact he almost killed me.

That man wouldn’t have let us escape that island, so there must be more at work. A trap, perhaps? It doesn’t make any sense, and I doubt he let us go due to some strange goodwill.

Everything feels wrong, and with each breath I take, I wonder if it’s about to be one of my last. Meanwhile, my eyes remain focused on the sky, hoping to see no dragons. What kind of miracle would that be?