Page 190 of Dragon Outcast (Age of Fire 3)

Rayg walked around him. “I believe the problem’s in that joint. It looks different from the one on the other side, like the two ends are slipped.”

“I know the cause,” the Copper said.

“I might be able to fix that. It looks like all it needs is a brace to keep the outer edge from sliding and then folding over the inner.”

The Copper hardly dared hope. “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s simple…” He said a word the Copper didn’t understand. “Just a matter of give and take.”

“If you do that, I will set you up like a kern king. Once you finish the bridge.”

“I’d always heard dragons are terrible. You’re better than barbarians.”

“I should hope so,” the Copper said.

Over the next weeks Rayg worked with two pieces of wood carved into shapes that resembled a crescent moon, thick leather, metal bands, and some studs. Rhea helped him, holding the wing still as he tested model after model. It infuriated the Copper, as each session ended with an “I’ve got to build another model” that became an inevitability ending the experiments.

He wondered if all this work was just an excuse to divert his attention from an escape attempt, or some bit of spycraft, but all Rayg seemed to do was spend more and more of his off time with Rhea.

Then one day, after an unusually long session extending and retracting his wing over and over and over again until the Copper’s muscles grew weary, with Rayg making chalk marks on the wood, the man said, “This model will work.”

“You mean—” the Copper began.

“Oh, I’ve got to improve it. A little more shaping. But this one folds just enough. It’s a little stiff, but better too rigid than something that’ll give way when you’re in the air.”

The bridge, and the wing contraption, both progressed daily. After having his skin rubbed raw extending and retracting his wing, he tried a short glide from one construction platform to another.

His wing stayed open! Hearts beating, he threw his head to the sky and roared, so loudly that the Firemaidens came running, thinking there was a fight.

With that he launched himself off the platform. Rayg shouted something but he didn’t catch it; it was lost in the sound of air as he flew. He tried one beat, two, three, gaining altitude with each stroke of his wings. He had never realized how good it would feel to use the muscles on his back properly, how perfect the sensation—

Snap!

The device flew off and he felt the old, faint grinding sensation of his bones folding against each other. His wing collapsed and the world spun around him. No, yes, he managed a turn, leveled out, and then the ground was suddenly beneath him and it struck hard.

He woke smelling his own blood. But he managed to stand, and looked at the skid mark he’d made in the canyon’s side. He’d lost a few scales as well.

He picked up the broken contraption and made the long, slow, sore climb back up to the construction site.

“I’m glad you live,” Rayg said.

“How thoughtful of you,” the Copper responded.

“No, I’m truly glad. The Firemaidens said that if you were dead, they’d throw me off the bridge.”

“Ten lengths ago I would have told them to do it. I’m too tired now.”

“Didn’t you hear me shout? I wanted to take it off and make sure the leather strap was holding. It’s meant to be permanently fixed with steel pins.”

Rayg worked on his model for a few more days, and was extra diligent at the bridge as well. They went through a few more practice glides, and the Copper flew back and forth and did turns under the bridge—with the harness tied around his limbs and a long, long line leading back to the bridge, just in case.

But in the end, he flew. He knew he didn’t fly well; nor could he do any of the fancy maneuvers he’d seen some of the dragons flying over the Imperial Resort perform for the sheer joy of it, but the ability made him feel complete, perhaps for the first time in his life.

And it hurt to know that Halaflora wasn’t up to it.

After showing his mate, he demonstrated his wings to Nilrasha. Her wings had come in some months ago, but he’d purposely kept away so he wouldn’t have to watch her fly. It didn’t help that Halaflora described the occasion in excruciating detail, full of praise for how natural and well formed she looked in the air.

“Oh, it’s a miracle, your honor. The Spirits are rewarding you at last.”

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