AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Am I a wet-wing?”
The Copper only half listened to them talk. He watched another trio of dragons come in, landing on a triangular temple top. It was hard to see at this distance, but it seemed figures dropped off the dragons as soon as they landed. The dragons took off again almost immediately.
“This is for my benefit as well,” FeLissarath said. “We may get lucky and snatch one out of the saddle. In case of trouble, make for the big smoke column and climb. Whatever happens, we shouldn’t lead them back here. If we’re separated, we’ll go to the high pass lookout and meet there. RuGaard, are you still here?”
The Copper extended his wings. “Back in three days if I can. Four days at most. More means I’m dead.”
“If you don’t see us again, lad, remember us every time you take a wild bighorn,” FeLissarath’s mate said.
The Copper launched himself into the night.
It took time to gain altitude, and he did so on the dark side of the mountain backing up the temple. Curse the bright moon tonight!
He saw the FeLissaraths take off from their palace and wheel around north to keep the attacking dragons on the moon side. He saw them gain altitude.
Three shapes dropped out of the sky upon them, falling like hawks.
The FeLissaraths closed up on each other, with the male slipping a little below the female, guarding his mate’s vulnerable belly.
Suddenly the old Upholders flipped over on their backs, practically bending their spines in half. Tails a blur, they struck their lead pursuer, one high and one low.
The Copper saw an object fall, turning cartwheels as it plummeted to the plateau. He suspected—no, rejoiced—that it was one of the hag-riders. The dragon they struck convulsed in the air and fell, limp-winged.
But the two following avoided their quarry-turned-hunters and broke, one high and to the right, one low and to the left, a terrible perfection in their evolutions.
The male swung under his mate again, guarding her, and the low-flying dragon passed under him. FeLissarath twitched in midair, turned sideways, and began a stiff-winged fall to the surface.
The female flew to the aid of her mate, diving, but that just gave the one who turned high an opportunity. It dove on her, claws extended like a hawk after a duck, and raked her across the back.
The Copper saw one wing rise, fluttering.
But she wasn’t done yet. She lashed up with her neck, got her teeth in her opponent’s tail, and folded her wings. With her weight clinging to him, the other dragon couldn’t stay aloft, and the pair began to fall, whirling around and around to destruction on the plateau. The female pulled herself up her opponent’s tail and dug into his belly, trading bites as they went down.
So passed the Upholders of Anaea.
The Copper swung around toward the remaining hag-ridden dragon. He was descending to the aid of the other rider. But he saw another formation of three coming in, late to the fight but arriving before he could.
He couldn’t match the flying of the FeLissaraths, let alone the guided enemy dragons working in concert. No flame, almost blind in one eye, and a bad wing. He wouldn’t even get one. He turned east for the Lavadome.
But in his ascent, watching the aerial duel, he’d passed out of the shadow of the mountain and into moonlight. He realized it too late.
The three hag-ridden dragons flapped their wings in unison as they turned toward him.
Chapter 25
They made no great effort to catch up to him as he fled east. After closing to two-score dragonlengths, they seemed content to trail him.
The long flight exhausted him. He passed over unfamiliar country, dry and rocky and dotted with widely spaced patches of vegetation clinging precariously to what he suspected were seasonal water supplies. There was little sign of habitation in this waste.
Thanks to his injury, he couldn’t manipulate his wing to take the wind at a favorable angle, and he suspected he was ex-pending as much effort just to glide between beats as he would climbing. His strength would fail before dawn.
And on and on glided the pursuit. Didn’t they have buildings to burn and gold to steal? Why didn’t they close and put an end to him?
Painful beat-glide. Painful beat-glide. Painful beat-glide. On and on through the night.
A black scar broke the moonlit ground ahead.
Could it be the Tooth Cavern? He knew it opened to the sky not far north of the bridge at the Lower World. He altered his course a little south.
