Page 66 of Dreams and Dragon Wings
The one flying straight toward us.
Chapter 20
Aurelia
Now
“Bene!” It is Brisa who shouts this time. But her warning comes too late.
A shield of Spirit snaps into place around me the split second before something slams into ushard. Fresh pain thrums through me as Bene spirals out of control. But it is not my pain.
It is his.
With the next heave of his wings, Bene rights himself and darts off into the night, racing away from Spindleton, away from our assailant.
I blink against the downpour and shoot a look over my shoulder, struggling to see what is chasing us. I only have a vague impression of black scales, slick with rain. Of crimson eyes burning through the darkness. Looking straight at us.
Straight atme.
A pressure grows within my mind—a pressure I recognize from the last time Bene probed too deep without permission. Except this time, it is not Bene trying to read my thoughts.
It ishim.
Terror wraps itself around my heart like bands of iron, squeezing tight, as a dark voice ghosts across the edges of my mind. It greets me in a low, rasping purr:
“Hello, pet.”
My dragon king’s thunderous roar fills the night as if he is aware of the other’s attempts to invade my thoughts. I flatten myself against Bene’s back and will him to fly all the faster.
I don’t know who this new enemy is. I don’t want to know. All I know is that, for some reason, he is here formeand I just want us to escape before I have one more man warring over me.
Am I trulythatimportant?
Bene’s voice is but a hoarse whisper within my mind. Muffled. Distant. Strained.
“Vaei.”
I imagine a wall slamming into place around my thoughts, a fortress meant to keep out all others save for him. If only I knew how to weave—if only I could touch the glittering strands of magic that linger just out of reach—I could be of some actual use here.
Like Bene’s aunties.
Their weaves light up the night sky as they try to slow our pursuer. Weaves of Earth, Spirit, Mind, Water, Air.
But I can touchnothing. I feel nothing but the Aether swirling all about us with each beat of Bene’s wings.
The Aether.
My eyes clench shut as I try to drown out all else. The rain. The thunder. The agony radiating from Bene’s soul. As I try to focus on just the Aether. On what words it might bring.
Please, I pray to the Great Weaver, biting back another scream as Bene dives and swoops in ways that make my stomach twist.Guide me, and I will listen. Show me the way, and I will walk it. Help me help Bene. Please.
The Aether does not speak, but a thought immediately flashes through my mind the moment I finish my prayer. Not a thought borne of Bene. Nor the dragon pursuing us. Not even a thought borne of myself.
But a thought fromHim, the Great Weaver:
The Living Waters.
It strikes me like lightning and crystallizes in my thoughts, so clear to me now. Even though I have never been to Drakara nor that holy place, I know I must get Bene to the Living Waters—the source of all magic, the birthplace of the Corona Ignis.
