Page 53 of Bounty Hunter

“I think this is a bad idea,” I whisper, my eyes still focused on that odd, flat head and the pincers.Gag.But Ikar ignores me, his hands busy running over the saddle. He finally finds what he’s looking for. His hands grip what appear to be handles built into the thick leather, and he jumps and pulls himself up, high enough now to force his left foot into the foot grip and swing his right leg over the other side. The beast shifts two steps to the side, and I jump back in fear. This is a terrible, terrible idea. I just know it’s going to buck him off and come after me. But Ikar rubs its long neck and murmurs something I can’t decipher to it, like it’s his favorite horse. I hold my breath, but it seems to work, and the beast stills. Ikar leans over with a hand out, and I have a decision to make.

“I’ll sit behind,” I say firmly, best to keep some distance from my handsome criminal. I am entirely too happy he returned for me, and I might actually kiss him for it if I get the chance. So, backseat it is. And also to avoid that disgusting head. I shiver a bit.

“You sure about that?” Ikar looks over his shoulder, and I follow his gaze. In our rush to escape, to steal one of these creatures I have never seen before in my life, my focus on its head, I haven’t taken the time to truly see what it is. Why it’s called a sharp flyer. I thought it was the pincers, the sharp-edged wings. Now, I see. A deadly, sharp stinger, like that of a scorpion, and nearly the full height of me, hangs from the end of a large, curved tail. Dangling just above where I planned to seat myself.No. Just, no.

Though I can’t see his face well, I can sense the smirk that he surely wears, and I eye his outstretched hand. But I can’t do it. I can’t ride this monster.

“Plan B, Ikar,” I whisper yell, aware that there could be guards around, but unable to force myself to grab his hand.

I hear sounds then from behind me.

“This is the only plan. Now, Vera,” he says firmly.

I hear running. And then, one-by-one, huge magic-fueled lights begin to spark on around the field, illuminating everything and waking the rest of the sharp flyers. This is not good. The beast begins to side step nervously, one of its six jointed legs almost bowling me over before I jump out of the way with a yelp. I look over my shoulder and see a large group of guards spilling onto the field. I cringe, grit my teeth, and grab Ikar’s hand. He pulls me up like I’m a sack of feathers and plants me in front of him. I hurriedly settle myself as far ahead of him as I can. The dress is forced up to accommodate my position on the saddle, revealing my knees and lower thighs. I gasp in horror—I’m not one for revealing attire. I’m the girl that dresses like a man and is mistaken for a boy, not an everwisp sister. I tug at it while Ikar nudges the sides of the sharp flyer with his heels like he would a horse, and I prepare myself to take off into the air. But there’s no wind in my face. It doesn’t move. He tries again, slapping the reins. Still, nothing.

“You’ve flown one of these before, right?” Every time I tug on one side of the horrendous dress, it reveals more of the opposite thigh. On one side, Darla stares at me, the other, Collette, the rabbit. I forget the dress—it’s covering the most important parts. Barely. I blow a piece of hair from my face and grab the saddle with both hands.

“This’ll be a first,” he grunts, as he continues to try different things to get it moving. He clicks his tongue, pulls the reinsin different ways, everything. I pretend like he didn’t say that. I pretend like he said he has one of his own that he rides for fun on the weekends, and he knows exactly what he’s doing. I look back at the guards, completely illuminated in the bright lights. One of them shouts something at us, and others are already running our way. A few have nocked arrows, others have swords drawn. They can see us just as clearly as we can see them. A distant roar that sounds much like Silas meets our ears, and I gulp. It sounds as if he just found out his newest fiancée escaped.

“Your magic. Try it,” he practically shouts in my ear.

My hands fumble around in the air like an idiot as my thoughts scatter like fall leaves in a chill breeze. I have no idea what he’s asking me to do. I pull lucent into my hands, it webs across my skin this time, and I place both my hands on the creature’s neck, sending magic to it. But still, nothing. I look over my shoulder, panic making my magic flicker.

“Focus.” Ikar pulls his sword, prepared to fight if I can’t get this monster moving.

If I can talk to dead animal heads and make friends, I can talk to this big guy. I close my eyes and send more magic, speaking like I saw Ikar do to calm it. “Fly, Sharp Flyer.”

It begins to move with a strange, skittering gate. We start out slow, and then the ground begins to blur beneath us, and before I can scream, we’re in the air. I dare not remove my hands or my magic, worried I’ll lose the connection and we’ll tumble from the sky. It climbs at a steady pace, and I refuse to look to one side or the other. I clutch its disgusting, reptilian-like neck as hard as I can, my back ramrod straight and my thighs already burning from my attempt to keep my seat atop this odd, horrifying creature. Tears stream from the corners of my eyes from the force of the wind, but I don’t lift a hand towipe them away, even as my dress blows up and billows around me. Good thing Ikar is behind me.

I take a deep breath and let it out.We did it.I’m about to smile when Ikar wraps his arm around me and slams me back against his hard chest as the creature takes a sharp right, and we dive. I lift off the seat with the force of our plunge, and my stomach rises and falls again, my dress following the same motions as the yards of fabric blow up in front of me. I think I’m going to be sick. I swallow it down and try not to fight the motion of movement. I use Jasper, the raccoon, and Greta, the squirrel head, to tuck the dress and hold it beneath my thighs. I try to tuck my long hair into the back of the dress, since someone forgot to finish the front, but the wind is too much, and it pulls free and fans out wildly, slapping and stinging my face. I hear Ikar growl irritably behind me, and with it, the creature wobbles and turns like it doesn’t know where to go.

Even for a beginner, Ikar is doing horribly. “You need practice,” I call over my shoulder, grinning as I imagine the frown he’ll surely make.

An arrow shoots past, I hear the whistle and cringe away out of instinct. So, maybe he’s doing better than I thought. I didn’t realize we had attackers behind us.

“Your hair!” he shouts over the wind as he lifts his chin high to avoid it and still see. And I realize that if it’s in my face it’s most definitely in his.

Another arrow flies behind us, this one catching Ikar’s coat and leaving a flapping tear in the arm. He pulls back on the reins, his arm gripping me against his chest still as we take another sharp turn. I don’t want to free my death grip to gather it, but when I do, I’m horrified to realize I’ve been gripping Ikar’s thighs and not the saddle. My face burns, and I’m grateful he can’t see it while I grapple wildly to pull my hair inwhile he’s straining to see through it. I see another flyer come up to our left, its rider nocking another arrow just as I get my hair under control.

“Take the reins.” Ikar shoves the thick leather straps into my one free hand.

I try to tell him I can’t steer this creature with just one hand, but my words are lost to the wind.

He grabs an arrow and nocks it, then takes aim. “Power this.” He keeps his eyes focused on the shifter flying across from us.

I’ve never done something like this, but I quickly pull a little lucent and direct it into the enchanted arrow by releasing my fisted hair and touching it with my hand, Ikar’s magic is still blocked, and he can’t do it himself. That cuff is becoming more and more inconvenient. It doesn’t take much before the arrow glows and he immediately lets it fly. It finds its mark, sending the rider soaring to the world beneath us.

The riderless sharp flyer immediately pulls back, the slack reins signaling its freedom. I hope Ikar doesn’t notice how white my magic is. I bite my lip even as I adjust the reins in my hands and try to gather my hair with one hand. The next one is above us, and I see the arrow aimed at Ikar just before he releases it. With one hand still on the reins, I pull the sharp flyer hard to the right, watching as the arrow barely misses as we cross beneath the other and end up on its left.

“A little warning next time,” Ikar grunts, as he climbs back on to the saddle from the side where he slipped off from the sudden movement.

I nod, more scared than I’d like to admit that he’d almost fallen.

“Magic,” he calls again as he stretches the bow tightly, once again aiming carefully. I give up on holding my hair, pray toLucentia that he’s too busy aiming at the enemy to notice the color of my magic, and quickly touch the arrow. It glows, and he immediately sets it free, but the other flyer dodges, his flyer spinning to the side, and I have no idea how he hasn’t fallen off. It makes me wonder if I have more influence over this creature than I realize. Strands of my hair rebelliously whip around my head, making me feel like some sort of sharp flyer goddess.

My hands still glow with lucent, and I press one to its neck. I’m not sure if I have to touch the beast now that I’ve established a connection, but better safe than sorry. I speak to it again as I tentatively pull back on the reins, thanking it, even as another arrow whizzes by.

I glance above us and find the flyer still there, and an idea comes to mind. I don’t know if it will work, but these stingers have got to be useful for something. Another arrow comes at us, and I press myself against the flyer to avoid being hit. While I’m there, I speak to it again, this time with my thoughts as lucent sparks between it and I.Slow down, and quickly rise behind the other.I visualize it as I speak to the creature, and I don’t know if it senses my plan or knows my words, but surprisingly, it obeys.

---