Page 117 of Swords of Soul and Shadow
The ship rumbled, almost like a purring cat. It was pleased. Kase smirked. It was almost as if the hover had missed him. He was still struggling with the idea that the contraption had known Kase needed it and had come to find him. He filed that terrifying information away for later analysis. He strapped in and tugged the strange blanket across his legs.
The hover beeped a melody at him, and the steering control warmed under his palm. Kase gripped it tightly in response. The ship really was like a loyal pet. Maybe Eravin’s hesitancy was justified. He shook his head to clear it. He needed to get the thing up and flying ten minutes ago.
He found the blaster trigger—just aim and squeeze—at the top of the steering control. Of course, it would be much easier if a second pilot was in control of that aspect, but alas, he had no choice. Kase flipped a switch, and the hover responded with a loud, comforting hum. With that, Kase was off, leaving Eravin on top of the wall, the gust from his take-off a parting gift.
Kase whipped through the skies after the other hovers, watching another drop a bomb onto a gaping maw in the landscape. He pressed hard on the pedals, his body going cold as he sped toward the threat. He squeezed the trigger twice as the bomb exploded.
Too late. Kase felt the punch in his gut.
His shots skewed wide, but whatever advantage he’d had before was gone. They now knew he was a rogue airship. Kase cursed and whipped the ship around as the other turned and fired. Without really meaning to, Kase rolled the ship left in a daring barrel roll. He’d thought about it, but he hadn’t actuallydoneit—he hadn’t moved his hands. The shots missed, and Kase nearly puked from the pressure.
The ship. It had…it had just done what he’d thought.
Holy stars-blasted shocks.
Kase didn’t have more time to analyze what had just happened as another hover joined the fray. Kase had spotted seven originally; the others wouldn’t be far behind.
As a third joined, Kase stopped thinking through his actions and simply started doing, his instincts taking over, the ship responding with tenacious fervor. He veered right, then left, then flipped over a hover. He squeezed the trigger and fiery blue bolts lanced from his ship, spearing the enemy and bringing it down in a torrent of wind and fire.
Kase flew faster and higher than he ever had, his skin icy-hot, pressure bearing down on him as he climbed. But the hover sensed when he was about to black out from the gravitational forces thrust upon him and readjusted itself without him lifting a finger. They worked in perfect tandem as the ships below him teamed up to corner him in the sky.
Kase wouldn’t have that.
He whipped around and fired. The enemy hover dodged but clipped its partner’s wing. Kase’s throat and lungs burned as he gasped for every breath. The enemy hover listed sideways, smoke leaking from the hit.
Got ya!
Kase took advantage and sent his blaster bolts into both. He didn’t stop to see if they recovered or not. They would be on his tail in minutes, if not seconds, if they had—but three more hovers had appeared on the horizon, and Kase didn’t have time to focus on potentially defeated foes.
The ensuing firefight was something out of the storybooks, Kase and his hover the poets of the skies. They whipped in and out, rose and dove, rolled and flipped. They fired when another hover was in range. It was as much a dance as it was a poem. They tangoed in the air, giving and taking. The rushof adrenaline was ablaze in his veins as he rolled and righted himself before firing at the tail of the final hover.
It erupted in flames, losing altitude in seconds and exploding on the city wall below.
Kase scanned the horizon, fear, exhaustion, and elation warring for a hold on his body and mind. Adrenaline still thrummed in his veins, and he was ready for anything they shot at him.
A blink on the horizon. Gold glittering in the midday sun.
Dragon.
Skibs.
Kase gripped his steering control. The hover hummed. He was ready. He could take on the dragon.
But could he fight Skibs?
He’d done it in the Gate chamber, and he’d lost. Hallie had been there to save him, but there was no one to save him now.
The beast’s great wings thrust up and down. It lifted its great head into the air and roared. Kase winced and recoiled against the guttural, piercing cry. Fire exploded from its maw, devouring the clouds hundreds of feet above.
Kase nearly dropped himself out of the sky. The hover kept him steady.
He’d just gotten close enough to barely glimpse Skibs on its back when the dragon turned and flew back toward the horizon.
Sweat ran rivers down his face, soaking his collar. The hover’s buttons sparkled and flashed in quick succession before humming once more.
With a shaking hand, Kase reached forward and patted the hover’s dash. “Good boy. You scared him off.”
Well, it did feel like a loyal dog. Kase had never had one before, but he thought he preferred a pet hover anyway—especially this one.
