Orra’s horse galloped alongside the others, but as they veered left along the edge of the valley to follow Aeliana, Orra veered right, straight to the valley’s center. She ignored the shouts of her comrades and closed her eyes, letting go of her reins to press her hands into the mare’s withers. She whispered words of strength and speed as energy poured through her palms.
Releasing the light from within was like a flower unfurling in the Sun’s rays, stretching, reaching. It sharpened all her senses and bolstered her courage, even though she knew she’d pay for it later. But for now, the Sun’s light met her own, and she felt the brief sense of peace and joy. Approval. Acceptance. Her breath caught.
In the distance, she glimpsed Aeliana’s shield, pride rippling through her at its width and breadth. Still, after Aeliana’s rash choice, every path before the girl held suffering and failure. If Orra didn’t intervene, Aeliana’s ripples would never expand; her stones would never get thrown. They still might not. Only the Sun knew how Orra’s interventions would change things.
She thanked the Sun for its approval, even if it was temporary. Perhaps because this time it was to save a life.
But wasn’t that what she’d thought the first time?
She shook away the doubts she didn’t have time for, pressing strength into her mare. She increased her stride from an already fast gallop to an otherworldly pace as the horse weaved among the flames and flailing soldiers in the wake of Durriken’s fire. Orra closed off her senses to the stench of burning flesh and the sounds of screaming men and women, leaving half her heart behind with them. Her surroundings blurred as she honed in on the dragon’s purple hide as he turned to make another pass over the valley, which had become a human herd prepared for slaughter.
As his blue underbelly skirted the tops of the tents, Orra reined in her mare, the sudden stop almost dizzying after the previous rush. The horse felt it too, stumbling for a moment until Orra smoothed a hand over the mare’s sides once more, feeding her more energy than Orra wanted to spare. Orra rose to her knees, then balanced on her toes, arms reaching up to gauge the distance she would need to clear not just the tent poles, but Durriken.
The mare danced beneath her, threatening to topple Orra’s stance, and the dragon drew closer, his eyes narrowing. He cradled something in his paws, drawing it in protectively toward his chest as he blew out fire along the way, the air from his massive wings doing more work to fan the flame than the fresh fire from his breath. Had he already taken Aeliana?
Orra had even less time than she thought. She crouched and adjusted her footing once more. She would have only one chance to time this right.
For a split second, she hesitated, the voices of her peers echoing through her soul. It’s not our way to interfere. Was she throwing a stone? Or moving something in the path of a ripple?
But then Durriken was before her, inhaling. She prayed his aim would turn to the side, away from her mare, and she let her blood’s energy surge through her as she leaped. Durriken coughed and sputtered in surprise, angling his body as if to block her, but with his low flight and her muscles invigorated by her blood’s power, she still managed to grab his wing, one of the only places on his body not armored with scales.
Her grip slipped as his speed increased, and her body slammed into his as he adjusted his angle, clearly trying to throw her off. This close to the beast, she could sense his remembered shock of being grounded with torn wings—the greatest fear of any dragon. But she had no intention of grounding him. She wanted him to fly away.
He rose higher as if sensing that was what she wanted, and she pulled herself up onto his wing, every effort requiring more of the energy in her blood—energy she couldn’t replenish as quickly as the others because she had no starlock. Her panic surfaced with the extravagant use of magic after constant suppression. What if she ran out?
She slipped her foot into the groove between his wing and shoulder before launching toward his collar. As she did, he twisted into a barrel roll, nearly dropping her from the sky, but she hung on to the collar, letting her body spin with his. As he righted himself, she wrapped her legs around his neck, pulling herself up and anchoring her foot in his collar to free up her hands.
He growled and threw his head left and right, agitated by her presence, but she leaned forward, placing her hands on the sides of his head just like she had done with her mare, infusing more energy into him, calming him. He stilled enough for her to finally feel safe, but then he banked left, dropping low and angling once more to return for another pass over the soldiers. Flames erupted from his mouth, making Orra cry out as stray sparks in the wind landed on her skin.
“Orra?”
Orra peered around the dragon’s scales, catching a brief glimpse of a brown braid. “Hold tight, Aeliana.”
“I thought he’d leave.” The younger woman’s voice was raw from tears. “I thought he’d give up on the soldiers once he had me.”
“It depends on the command he was given. We can still fix this.” Orra straightened once more.
By now, the surviving soldiers were fighting back, and a volley of arrows flew past them, but Orra closed her eyes and pressed closer into Durriken, letting them glance off his scales. She burrowed deep into his mind, fighting through his resistance, digging through his memories to find the command he’d been given. Her energy waned, and Durriken made another low pass to burn another set of soldiers before she could find what she needed.
Tears stung her eyes, and Mayvus’ face swam before her mind, a pale woman with severely angled eyebrows and thin lips pursed in a scowl. “When you see Aeliana and the soldiers, kill everyone else, but spare her and bring her back to me.”
Orra’s eyes fluttered open, her grip around Durriken’s head going slack as her energy drained even more. He banked again, heading toward a new section of soldiers. Despite their distance, Orra made out Sylmar’s molten staff. Within moments, everyone she’d arrived with could be aflame.
Orra inched forward, her feet precariously balanced on Durriken’s collar. If he flipped now, she would fall. Before he could realize her position, she slipped her hands over his eyes, forcing them closed.
Durriken jerked, and Orra nearly lost her footing. “You see no soldiers,” she whispered, cementing the words in his mind as energy spread from her hands to fuse his eyelids shut. “Drop Aeliana, because you don’t see her either. Your work here is done.” Her plan depended on his desire for a way out of his orders. She was giving it to him, but only if he wanted it.
His trajectory remained unchanged, and Durriken sucked in a deep breath primed for flame. Individual frightened faces came into focus as he skimmed the crowd, including Kendalyhn and Lukai. For a moment Orra thought she’d misread the memory, misunderstood his true motives. Her friends would go up in flames beneath Durriken while she watched on, helpless.
Then Durriken let his air out, the heat of it bringing sweat from every one of Orra’s pores. But there was no fire. Orra sagged in relief, adjusting her grip since Durriken’s eyes could no longer open. As he flew over the people, he let Aeliana loose, and Lukai and Velden barely broke her fall. Sylmar’s mouth dropped open in surprise at the sight of Orra on the dragon’s back. Too late he shouted out orders to hold fire. One of the arrows sank into Orra’s thigh.
This time when she lost her grip, she couldn’t regain it. Her power was gone for now, and she was as subject to gravity as the mortals beneath her.
CHAPTER 71
Aeliana landed hard, her elbow somewhere in Lukai’s ribs and her knee on Velden’s leg. Both men grunted, and Aeliana moaned, but it could have been worse. As far as she could tell, nothing was broken.
As Durriken passed overhead, another cry rose from the crowd, and Aeliana whipped around in time to see Orra falling from Durriken’s back. Her drop was much farther than Aeliana’s, and while people reached to break her fall, her head still hit the ground with a sickening crack. Lukai and Velden scrambled to her side, poking and prodding at her neck and limbs.