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Forged Flight

Page 41

by C.L. Blossom

Dragons are dangerous.

Dragons are beasts.

Dragons cannot be trusted living so close to Thistle Grove.

I look toward the nearest cliff, where a massive golden dragon lies curled around a nest. Several smaller dragons scramble over her back, playfully nipping at her wings. She barely seems to notice, lifting her head to watch them with quiet patience.

“They’re beautiful,” I whisper.

“Aye,” Lucan agrees softly. “They are.”

Maple chirps beside us.

I look down.

Her little body has gone completely still. She stares up at the other dragons, her prosthetic wings twitching with curiosity.

“Alright, sweetheart.” I crouch beside her and scratch gently beneath her chin. “This is your home. This is where you belong.”

She lets out a soft, questioning trill. “They’re going to love you, Maple,” I murmur, scratching under her chin. “Just like I love you.”

Lucan pats the top of her head, his giant hand nearly cupping her entire skull. “She’ll be safe here, Micah. Among her own kind.”

Nodding, I swallow the lump in my throat. “I know.”

I reach for Maple’s harness, preparing to unclip it and finally set her free, when a distant rumble rolls across the mountain.

I freeze and glance toward the sky.

Dark clouds have begun gathering over the peaks, thick and heavy against the fading afternoon light. Wind whistles through the treetops and sends a shiver down my spine. My own breath fogs my glasses, clouding my vision.

“We should hurry,” Lucan says.

Before I can answer, a loud, ear-splitting screech cuts through the air.

“Get down.”

Lucan grabs me around the waist and pulls me behind a nearby bush. I barely have time to duck beneath the thick foliage before Maple squeezes between us, pressing herself against my legs.

Lucan holds me firmly against his solid frame. He’s so close I can feel his heart pounding against my back.

“What—”

Lucan clamps a hand over my mouth. “Shh.”

I fall silent, squinting through the leaves toward the darkening sky.

A black dragon soars overhead, its enormous wings beating against the increasingly turbulent air. Each powerful downstroke sends a gust of wind rushing through the trees. It circles once before descending toward the ground, landing beneath a towering tree where several other dragons huddle together, seeking shelter from the falling snow.

The dragons crowd around a patch of bright blue mushrooms growing near the base of the tree, their snouts dipping toward the ground as they devour them, snapping the bulbous caps from their stems.

I stare in bewilderment.

What the fuck?

“Dragons… eat mushrooms?” Lucan whispers. “I thought they were carnivores.”

“They are.” I swallow hard. “This doesn’t make sense.”