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CHAPTER 35 - DRAVEN
Iwas a thousand feetup in the air, flying over a snow-capped mountain range, when I lost my mate.
The exmoors had soared over the beach, leaving the fleet far below. Sunstrike had chirped once, a sharp and sweet farewell. Then we’d glided over the cliffs, and in moments, the ocean was gone from view.
Rosy-fingered dawn broke as we flew, casting its gentle glow over the landscape below. Around me, Nightclaw's powerful wings stretched out like the canopy of a dark forest. To one side and slightly behind, flying in the updraft of Nightclaw's wake, came Sunstrike, smaller but no less graceful, the rhythmic beats of her wings harmonizing with the rushing wind.
The world below us had completely transformed. From the swirling blue sea, we now flew over a sea of stone and snow. The air this high was crisp and invigorating. My fingers clung to the reins, my body leaning against the exmoor’s sleek furred form.
We flew at a symphony of speed, slicing through the air at at least a hundred miles per hour by my estimation. The world around us blurred into ice, a kaleidoscope of wind and white as we hurtled forward.
After a few hours, my body was numb, and it was all I could do to burrow forward, tucking my head against the neck of the massive battlecat.
The day passed by. Nightclaw led our pack. There had been no need to give him direction or to ask him if he knew the way.
He flew towards Morgan with utter assuredness, as if a compass needle lay within his heart, his aim sure and true.
When twilight came, I estimated we were halfway there. By dawn, I could be in Camelot. By dawn, Morgan could be wrapped in my arms.
By noon, we could have her brother's head on a pike. Or, failing that, his ass in a prison cell.
Perhaps I was moving too fast. We'd get Morgan and Kaye out first. Find Morgan's rebel friends. Set up a base, if they didn't have one already. Sir Ector would be good for that. We'd draw in reinforcements and by the time our Myntra forces arrived, we'd be ready.
I was lost in these daydreams when a sickening sensation gripped me like a knife to the gut and I heard Nightclaw call out in sharp distress.
For a moment, the exmoor's wings faltered.
We plummeted.
Straight downwards over the fang-tipped rocky mountains below.
From above, Sunstrike let out a shriek of fear and dove down after us.
We free fell for what seemed like minutes but was probably no more than a few seconds.
And then it was over.
Nightclaw beat his wings rapidly and plateaued, soaring upwards again, though less assuredly than before. I could feel him trembling beneath me. My own body was shaking. Panic coursed through my veins.
I couldn't connect with Nightclaw the way Morgan was able to–or the way I could feel Sunstrike–but I could guess at what the big cat was feeling because I was feeling it too.
Emptiness. A horrible, haunting emptiness as I strained my senses, searching desperately for the lost connection that bound me to her.
But all I found was silence.
A terrifying blankness worse than the freefall had been.
High above the snow-covered peaks of the Ellyria Mountains, my mate's absence was an abyss that echoed in my soul.
We were alone, because Morgan was gone.
We spun through the air like this in disarray and confusion for what felt like hours. Behind us followed Sunstrike, desperately chirping her concern. The smaller exmoor, wings kissed in hues of gold and brown, hovered close by, her eyes wide with uncertainty as she witnessed our anxiety.
Finally, we leveled out and ascended again, Nightclaw's wings slicing swiftly and majestically back through the atmosphere. Yet, as I gripped the saddle pommel and leaned into the wind, the world was nothing but a fog of dread. The void still gnawed at my very soul.
We had not been severed, nor torn asunder.
Our bond had simply beenextinguished, as if Morgan had become nothing but a blankness in this world. A silence where her presence should have resonated.
