Page 111 of Centaur Bolt

Marcus waited for a few moments until he spotted a narrow path bearing right. His swerve along it tilted me sideways. The arm clutching the horn tightened along my ribs, pushing me back into position.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

“Whatever, bitch,” Havoc growled.

“I take it back.”

Marcus snorted and flattened his ears.

A chorus of howls echoed from behind us, and another Dragon flashed overhead. Marcus stretched out his neck and poured everything into galloping along the path that appeared to be created by something the size of a rabbit. But it rose beneath his flying hooves and became so rocky in places that he skidded.

The rain increased as we climbed until it pounded down, and I had to wipe it out of my eyes to see. Marcus seemed to fare better. At least, when the game trail petered out, he managed to find another path through the dense bush. Sometimes he had to jump over fallen trees or scramble up embankments.

The next howl sounded much closer. “How fast can they run?” I gasped.

“In this, much faster than us,” snarled the Dragon. “So if we reach this cliff, what then?”

“Marcus is going to jump,” I said.

Marcus snorted.

“What?” snapped the Dragon.

“Lose Dires and Bellatis.” It was barely decipherable, but it was almost as though I heard the words in my head, not just from Marcus’s horse mouth.

“And us,” the rider pointed out.

“Fly,” Marcus said.

Knew he’d get what I was thinking. My ex-Centaur was a smart dude.

The Dragon simply growled.

Another shadow swept over us. The Dragons would be on us the second we broke cover. I had no plan for them, really. Only for their earthbound friends.

Couldn’t be expected to think of everything.

“Swing left.” The Dragon was peering through the trees. Whenever the branches thinned, you could clearly see a mountain looming above us. The ground continued to grow increasingly rocky and difficult for hooves. I could well imagine Dire paws and claws would have an easier time of it.

The rain sheeted down on us, making the stone slippery as hell, but also shielding us from the eyes above. Then we broke through, onto the banks of a creek.

“Follow it,” the Dragon ordered.

The water tumbled merrily over boulders as Marcus leaped down into it. He slipped and slid, and I was afraid he’d break a leg, but he managed to stay on his feet. And we clung to him. Barely.

The creek rapidly grew in size and depth, helped along by the pouring rain. I wound my hands into Marcus’s thick, wet mane and clung as it rose along his sides. He was keeping his feet in the raging torrent, but only just.

And then, the creek was joined by another, and it became a river.

I yelped as we were narrowly missed by an uprooted tree. “Is this taking us to a cliff?”

“Yep,” the Dragon answered, glancing along the banks.

At this point, they were much higher than we were. And as I looked upward, I saw a form leap from one boulder to the other.

The Dires. Unless they lunged into the raging torrent, they couldn’t reach us, but their cohorts in the air were another matter. Even hindered by the rain, they soared over us. But coming down after us was risky—snatching us from the tumultuous water meant they could crash into the boulders themselves.

The river had devolved into serious rapids, now. Marcus was swimming as much as plunging, and both the Dragon and I were clinging to the saddle for all we were worth. I couldn’t speak at all. It was all I could do to breathe.

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