Page 158 of Anathema

The drake tipped its head, backing up a step, as if confused.

“Hit yourself,” I whispered to her. “A lot. And give yourself an extra for me.”

I growled at the beast and smacked my face. Hard. The sting of the strike brought more tears to my eyes, but I didn’t care. The act seemed to confuse them. I struck again and bared my teeth.

The drakes grunted and paced, still closing the circle around us.

“It’s not working!” The panic in her voice didn’t help my quickening pulse.

One lurched for me again, and I grabbed Rykaia’s hand. The gravity of the situation finally weighed down on me, as the two of us remained back-to-back, circling to keep the beasts in front of us at all times.

“How does Zevander not get eaten?” I asked, eyeing the saliva stringing from the maw of the beast that watched me intently.

“He has them trained. They follow his command.”

Like trained dogs. Trained. An idea sprang to mind.

I tugged the whistle from my pocket. Not that I’d effectively trained anything with it, but just in case it had worked the last time, I gave one hard blow.

Rykaia kicked her head to the side. “What are you doing?”

“Calling my own little pet.”

The distant echo of a roar came from overhead, and both Rykaia and I froze.

“What was that?” she asked, her hands shaking in mine.

Even the drakes seemed curious to know, as they continued their prowling with the occasional upward glance.

Another roar from overhead.

That time, the drakes halted, their attention fixed toward the sky.

A flash of black was the only warning before a treachery of ravens swooped and cawed at the drakes, while they flinched and snapped their enormous jaws at them in return.

“There’s an opening between them,” Rykaia whispered. “We can run.” She tugged my arm, and we sprinted in the direction of the castle, though we were still too far for me to feel any relief.

Growls reached us from behind once again, and we ground to a stop as the drakes caught up with us, abandoning their earlier preoccupation with the birds.

One of them lunged at me and took hold of the dress bag, thrashing it so hard, the beast ripped it from my hands. Teeth bared, it stared at me with eyes that looked too human.

A thud beside me shook the ground beneath my feet, jerking my muscles.

Rykaia screamed.

Raivox stood beside me, his colossal size twice that of the fyredrakes.

“What in the name of the gods!” Rykaia tugged my arm, urging me away from it. “Run, Maevyth! Run!”

As I reached out to pet him, the raptor roared, sending a blast of glowing silver from its mouth over the three cowering drakes. One of them yelped and hobbled away. The raptor lunged forward, and all three scattered off.

Feathers ruffling with a shake of his head, Raivox hobbled his way back toward us.

“What is this?” Rykaia asked, keeping her distance from him.

“He’s a Corvugon, from what I’ve gathered.” I ran my hand over his rough scales, careful of the long, curled horn that stuck out from the top of his head, sharp enough to stab right through me. “His name is Raivox. He hatched in my bedroom back home.”

“I’ve never heard of a Corvugon.”

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