Page 39 of Blood of Wolves

Náli’s lip curled. “You’llwhat?”

His pulse leaped, and sweat prickled at the back of his neck, but he found that he could draw in a deep breath, and that he could turn to meet Erik’s incredulous stare with a level one of his own. “Think about it: we’ve guessed their plan, yes, but right now we have nothing to do aside from fall into it. We could intercept Ragnar’s troops as they come out of the mountain passes – we might even defeat them. But, meanwhile, Aeres is at the mercy of the Sels. We can’t be in both places at once – not all of us, anyway.”

Slowly, Erik’s gaze narrowed – though, this close, it wasn’t possible for him to hide his mounting panic.

“We have the drakes, now,” Oliver said. “Let’s not waste the advantage they give us.”

Erik’s throat jumped as he swallowed. Tonelessly, he said, “You – you would ride the beast, and fly ahead to Aeres.”

Don’t be stubborn, Oliver willed him.See the sense in this. Think with your head.He nodded. “I can be there long before you or Ragnar. I can warn Revna and the others. And, you saw what Percy did to those Fangs. He can fight. The Sels won’t be expecting a drake, much less a drake rider.” He turned to survey the table, and all its shocked faces. “They’ll have no idea we’re coming. Ragnar doesn’t even know. This is a chance, one we have to take.”

Silence lasted another moment, and then the room erupted in shouts.

~*~

“Are you forgetting,” Erik gritted out five minutes later, in the hallway, “that you’ve never actually ridden a dragon before?”

Oliver slumped back against the wall, shaking faintly. Now that they were away from the crowd – since Erik had all but dragged him from the room – the enormity of what he’d volunteered to do crashed down over him. He didn’t want to change his mind, though; this was the right course of action, terrifying or not. “I sit a horse more than passably.”

Erik leaned in close, and set a hand to the wall beside his head – and, oh, yes,hello, that was one way to turn his fear to something else entirely. “I don’t think you need me to point out that this is nothing likesitting a horse.” His voice was a low, unhappy growl, and when he punctuated the sentence with a snort, Oliver’s insides flooded with heat.

He couldn’t resist a grin. “Well. Like sitting onsomething.”

Erik’s nostrils flared. “Ollie.” But the corners of his frown twitched like it was hard to hold.

Oliver breathed a laugh, grateful for the chance to joke, at least a little, in the middle of their current predicament.

“There you are,” Leif’s voice sounded as he approached. “What do you – ugh.” He let out a deep, heartfelt groan. “Really? Out in the hall? In front of people?”

Oliver laughed outright.

Erik pushed away from the wall and faced his grimacing nephew, his expression stern – his cheeks tinged pink with self-consciousness. “What is it?”

Leif shook his head, and then focused, worry plucking at his brows. “Snorri said he would put his armorer and blacksmith on making a harness right away. He wanted to know if you still had the saddle and bridle he gave you.”

“Oh. I do, yeah.” Oliver pushed off the wall – but both men’s stares drew him up short. “What?”

“Are you going to do this?” Leif asked. “Really? You’ve never – I mean, riding a dragon must be difficult, yeah?”

“That’s what I was just explaining to him,” Erik said in a flat voice. “To no one’s surprise, he’s being stubborn about it.”

“No.” Oliver held up an admonitory finger. “You are King Stubborn, and I’m only a mere pretender.” To Leif – ignoring Erik’s grumble of protest – he said, “You didn’t speak up in there. What do you think? A good idea? Or folly?”

Leif blinked, clearly surprised to have been asked. “I. Well.” He scratched at the back of his neck, and snuck a look at his uncle.

Erik snorted.

“Right, then,” Leif continued, shoulders squaring beneath the thick fur of his mantle. “If you weren’t a Drake, and I hadn’t seen those lizards take such a liking to you myself–”

“Hey, now,” Oliver said, offended on hislizards’behalf.

“–I would you think you were crazy for even suggesting it. But you do have a bond with them, with Percy, especially, and so I think they’ll protect you and make it easier for you. It won’t be like breaking a new colt.” The last he said in an entirely different way than Erik had. No, it wouldn’t be like riding a horse, for sure: he had a mental link with this animal. “But,” Leif said, expression shifting into apologetic territory, “I can’t imagine riding a dragon will be easy, physically.”

“No,” Oliver agreed, and itcouldn’tbe easy. For one, the dragons moved in a completely different manner than horses, their long spines undulating in serpentine fashion as they loped along the ground – and that didn’t consider the flying. He’d watched them swoop, and dive, and bank, and spin in the air, all of it effortless, all of it destined to dislodge a human passenger.

But, just as Percy had glimpsed the world through Oliver’s eyes, so had Oliver seen Percy’s aerial perspective. Had flown headlong through spun-sugar clouds, and stared down at a world made ant-like and insignificant. Whether dreams or visions, he’d never felt anything but elated there, in the sky; had only felt a wild, thrilling joy during a stoop, as the snow came rushing up to meet them.

He’d never been an optimist – but he’d never had a drake, either, and he wasn’t afraid of climbing on Percy’s back and taking to the skies.

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