Page 51 of Kingdom of Shadows and Wings

The pursuer behind us races closer, reaching out with inky, sinuous tentacles. Its shriek shakes the stalks and ground, and as the entity draws closer, frigid fear pours over me, holding me captive.

Ziva, save me!

I direct Zephyr to fly toward the sun.

The tendrils disappear, casting the world into impenetrable darkness.

More screeching—louder this time. The universe shudders around us. Somewhere in the distance, Leesa screams.

The dark, oily smoke returns, swamping me in a black cloud. The entity slithers up my nose. Into my mouth. Slides down my throat and oozes through my insides, replacing my blood with foul slime. Agony streaks through my veins until I all but disappear. Until all that remains of me is desperation.

No more.

Zephyr bucks, tossing me from the saddle like when my father died.

I plunge toward the pulsing, humming morass, but this time, as I fall, fear mixes with stark relief.

No more. No more.

My shrieks fill the air. In the distance, a dragon roars.

Before I crash into the ground, I wake with a jerk, sweat streaming between my breasts. The roar echoes in my ears, and I’m shivering so hard that the bed shakes. Ever-lights flash on showing Olive and Helene on their feet, peering out the window, and I realize it’s not me. The entire building quakes like a giant reached down to rattle the foundation between his fists.

In the hall, doors open and shut. Boots pound the wooden floor, and confused voices float past.

“What’s happening?” I haul myself out of bed and grab my boots. After the shower incident, I started sleeping in the Flighthaven issued sleepwear, and the lightweight tunic and pants are decent enough to be seen in mixed company.

Olive steps away from the window. “Not sure, but I think something may have crashed outside.”

I open the door. “Are you sure it wasn’t an earthquake? What could crash with so much force?”

“Something big,” Helene says as we file into the hall.

Following the clusters of other fledglings, we rush down the stairs and out the front door into the cool night air. Shouting instructors and staff dash toward a spot on the far side of the training field, their glowing ever-light lanterns and torches marking the path. A pit opens in my stomach, growing the closer we get to the site of the disturbance, and my head pounds as if someone cracked my skull with a hammer, pried it open, and shoved pain inside.

My legs wobble, and I stumble. Before my eyes, my surroundings waiver. Olive hooks my elbow before I go down and steadies me on my feet.

“Thanks.” If not for her quick reflexes, that weak spell would have taken me to the ground.

“No problem.”

She keeps hold of my arm, which I’m thankful for. The dizziness lingers, and the pain in my head won’t go away. The people ahead of us start to slow. Gasps and sobs fill the air. I wonder if I’m hallucinating, because a dark mountain rises in front of them, and I know for a fact the cliffs are farther back.

Then the shape becomes clearer, and my lungs quit working. Not a mountain at all. It’s a?—

“Dragon,” Olive whispers.

A dragon. A dragon crashed in our training field. But how? Why?

Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m pushing between fledglings, overcome with a sudden, sharp need to get closer. Ignoring the dirty glances, I keep shoving my way forward until I break free of the crowd of students. A grim Torno hovers over to one side, conversing with Celeste Dawson, my weapons instructor. Everyone is just standing around, doing nothing, and I don’t understand why. Can’t they see the dragon’s suffering?

Frantic, I glance around wildly for someone who can help and latch onto a familiar, tall figure stalking across the grass. With a muffled sob, I sprint over to him and grasp his sleeve. “Please! You have to put him out of his misery. Can’t they tell that he’s hurting?”

Thorne’s eyes widen. I’m shocked when he takes me seriously and heads straight for the dragon, placing a palm on the beast’s massive head and waiting several moments before turning to Torno with a bleak expression. “He’s still alive, but barely. Someone needs to fetch an air harpoon.”

Torno peers at the dragon’s face. “Oh, but are you sure? If he’s still alive, maybe we can?—”

Thorne stiffens. “No. His legs are crushed, and there’s probably internal damage.” His attention shifts to Instructor Dawson. “How high up were you when he started to fall?”

---