Page 18 of Dragon Fight

“Let's get back. The dragon has had her time practising flying and I'm in no mood to revisit old times.” When he glanced at Brom, real hurt showed in his eyes. “Especially when they’re gone and will never be repeated.”

Having returned to his customary demeanour of a prince to the manner born, Draven didn’t wait for a response. He turned on his heel and walked over to his stallion, throwing himself back up into the saddle before kicking the horse into a canter. Darkspire took to the air to follow him.

“Well,” Ged said, breaking the silence. “What the hell was that?”

12

Do you have any ideas what that was?I asked Glimmer.

A view of the past, of the future, she replied.

And what the hell does that mean?

I felt her shift restlessly on my shoulder before she threw herself off, the force of her take-off pushing me back a step, then she glided down to the ground.

I’m tired and hungry again. The chicken was delicious but not enough to sustain me. I need red meat, preferably from those stinky, oinking things, she said.

Glimmer…

I’m hungry. Her tone was rude and defiant as she looked around herself, her eyes narrowing when she heard a lizard skitter past.I must hunt for myself, then.

Wraith let out a grumbling noise and then put his head down on the stones beside her, obviously willing to take her back to the estate for some ‘oinking things’. I let out a little huff of breath and she shot me a dark look then clambered back onto Wraith’s neck.

“A vision from the past, from the future, is all I’ve been told,” I explained to my men with irritation. They all just looked at me blankly and I shook my head and shrugged one shoulder. “I know. I saw another woman doing the same thing as I did, but she wore a crown of bones.”

“Bones?” Brom said with a frown. “Like the old queen’s crown?”

“I… don’t know,” I replied, feeling confused. “I don’t know what she wore. I just assumed the first Nithian king repurposed her jewels when he took the throne.”

“No. Her crown was crushed at her defeat. There seemed to have been some significance to it that my forebears didn’t want to continue. The king’s crown was newly minted when he took the throne.”

“But that was what happened in your vision?” Soren asked. “You saw a woman doing what you did?”

“And I heard a voice.” I sighed. “ ‘For the balance to restored, the queen must rise’.”

“Gods.” Flynn had gone as pale as milk. “Draven’s right. If my father gets word of that, or if any of the other dukes do, for that matter…” His eyes hardened. “So we can’t let this get out to anyone. And Brom?” My husband looked at Flynn with a weariness in his eyes. “You need to talk to Draven. I know you can’t command him to do anything, but your friendship…”

The three other riders stared intently at Brom, none of them saying a word. He just nodded slowly, letting out a long sigh, before reaching over and giving my hand a squeeze.

“If that’s what needs to happen, we’d best get back to the estate straight away.”

Brom helped me up onto my horse’s back, an unnecessary gesture as I’d been riding for as long as I could walk, but I appreciated the contact anyway.

“All will be well, Pippin,” he told me. Neither of us knew how inaccurate his words would be.

Earlier,on our way to the ruins, Whiskey had begun shifting uncomfortably beneath me, but I’d put that down to nerves from being around so many dragons. As I remounted, however, she danced beneath me and then let out a sharp whinny. I smoothed my hand down her muscular neck, reassuring her with soft words, and then nudged her forward with a tap from my heels.

She lunged forward in an explosive movement, so that I had to rein her in, but she kept fighting me. That was my first warning. The second warning was that, even after I thought I’d calmed her, she continued to oppose me. She went to rear up, which drew the attention of Brom and the others who had mounted while I was trying to settle Whiskey. I tightened my grip with my knees, keeping my seat because this was nothing I’d not experienced before, and looked around me to work out why she was so skittish. There was nothing flapping or rolling past to spook her; no nearby predators that I could see.

“Perhaps you should—”

Brom was about to make a suggestion but his words were lost as Whiskey exploded. All calm was gone as she reared in earnest, screaming her dismay or anger, her front legs pawing at the sky.

“Whoa. Whoa!” I called to her, but even as the others nudged their horses closer, Whiskey’s forelegs landed on the ground and she bolted off with me still on her back. I gripped the reins and focussed on keeping my balance, just trying to hang on. I could do little else because she seemed maddened: changing gait, stopping to rear up, wheeling around, letting out distressed little snorts, tossing her head, and screaming. And then came the pièce de résistance. Horses can be flighty things, getting strange ideas in their heads that turn massive muscular creatures into whirling dervishes of destructive energy.

And that’s what Whiskey was right now.

She suddenly stopped trying to outrun whatever was terrifying her and that was very bad for me. I knew how to stay in the saddle even with a rebellious horse, but not with one acting like this. She started bucking in earnest, with every muscle in her body, like her life depended on unseating me and while I clung tighter and tighter, my whole body rigid with a strength I’d never felt before, I was no match for her. Every bone rattled, my teeth clacking together as I was shaken as if by a giant fist. The taste of blood exploded in my mouth as I involuntarily bit down on my tongue when she reared again, but that was a minor pain compared to what came next. Whiskey landed down on her forelegs and then bunched her massive haunches before throwing her weight forward while flinging her back legs into the air.

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