“Oh, Anders I didn’t even offer to check,” Maija said, seeing him feel at his back. “Allow me,” she said, lifting his shirt.
“Well,” he asked. “How’d I do?” He heard Maija groan as she lowered his shirt.
“Not your best work. It’s bleeding again. You shouldn’t have swung your blade so many times,” she said. “We’re all out of bandages. Your shirt will have to do.”
Anders shrugged, “Maybe I’ll try to heal it again on my own when I feel better.”
She placed her hand on his shoulder and said quietly, “Anders, I’m sorry for what happened to you. It must be really difficult not knowing what’s happened to Ivan.” Anders forehead creased, wondering how she suddenly knew about Ivan? Then she added, “I can’t imagine what that would feel like, watching your mentor being ripped from your grip like that.”
“Thanks,” Anders said. “And I’m sorry I worried you earlier. It’s probably just some residual effects left over or something. I’ll get better with time.” He returned the smile she gave him. “So, you think you’re ready to fly?” Anders asked Zahara out loud so Maija could hear, too.
Zahara purred her response.
Adjusting the saddle, Anders heard her voice in his mind, I know you’re still craving Lazuran’s power.
What makes you say that? Anders asked.
Don’t try to deny it. I saw you reach for him when you broke away from Raffa. Anders, you can’t rely on that crystal anymore. I know using that amount of magic tired you, but you’re going to have to get used to replenishing yourself as we used to, with time, food and rest.
Maija thinks I should remove the crystal or get rid of the sword but I worry physical distance won’t cure it. I think whatever happened might have taken hold within me, why else would I still feel drawn to it when there’s nothing left inside? Anders asked.
If you’re going to beat Merglan, you must become better than him in every sense, with or without that sword.
Anders cinched down the strap around Zahara’s core, looking to the sword at his hip. It’s going to be hard for me at first. I just want the cravings to go away.
I have a feeling they won’t on their own. You’re going to have to face them, she paused. I can help you. We’ll beat them together. And remember, you’re not in this alone.
Anders gently stroked her neck, reaffirming their bond. What would I do without you? he asked.
You’d be dead, many times over for sure, she said.
Anders’ gaze passed over her, checking the freshly healed tissue on her scales. The only evidence of Killdoor’s gashes and bites were patches of raw under-skin bare of scales.
Zahara shook like a wet dog, testing the saddle’s security before letting Anders climb on.
We shouldn’t push ourselves. Once we get back to the Everlight Kingdom, the elves will need us to go directly into action, he said feeling the residual draining effects from their healing efforts.
I know, but I feel alive again. It’s been too long since we’ve flown.
Is one day without flight a long time for you? Anders asked.
Yes, it feels like ages since I last tasted the rushing wind in my jaws, she said.
Feels like it’s been awhile to me too, actually, Anders said.
“Everyone ready?” Maija asked, approaching Raffa. Anders watched her grab the dragon’s spikey bone protrusions as handles to climb up onto Raffa’s back. Even though he crouched low to the ground, she still had a bit of a climb to get to his back.
She’s going to need a saddle, Anders thought as Zahara crouched for him. Anders reached up, grabbed hold of the saddle horn and fitted his foot into the stirrup. Pushing down with sore muscles, he hoisted himself up into the seat, grunting as he swung his leg over her back. Rising to her full height, Anders felt Zahara’s legs quiver, a feeling Anders had never felt on her before.
Anders looked to Maija as she sat straight-backed on Raffagaun, gripping two of the spikes for stability. Anders thought the whole of Raffa’s back had been covered in spiny bones protruding through the scales, but clearly he was wrong because Maija sat on a flat-scaled space between his neck and his shoulder blades. Anders nodded, letting her know they were ready. Maija leaned forward and Raffa leapt into flight. Anders realized that the red dragon’s wingspan practically doubled that of Zahara’s.
Here we go, Zahara said, starting with a run before jumping into the air.
For a moment Anders forgot all of his worries as she lifted into the sky. Nothing was as freeing as soaring into the open air on the back of a dragon. After three flaps, Zahara cried out in pain, her roar shrill and high-pitched. She listed hard to the right and careened down toward the grass below. Anders tried to correct her course, but she couldn’t stop her momentum and she collapsed as she hit the ground chest first, sending Anders’ face directly into the back of her neck. The impact would’ve sent him flying except the magic embedded into his saddle had been designed to keep him in his seat.
Zahara skidded to a halt on her stomach and then used her wing claws to hoist her legs up under her. Dazed from the impact, Anders hunched over in the saddle. He glanced down at the front of his shirt, fresh blood spread across it. Thinking at first it was coming from Zahara, he searched her neck, but quickly saw the steady stream pouring from the tip of his nose. Surprised that so much blood could come from his nose, he quickly pinched his nostrils together and shouted from the instant pain. Letting go almost as quickly as he touched it, he realized he’d broken his nose.
Zahara, are you alright? he asked, slowly bringing his shirt to his nose in an attempt to stem the flow of blood.
My wings, she said with a gasp. I think I tore something. What about you?
Just a broken nose, I think, Anders said as he felt gingerly at the bridge of his nose. It’s normal straight ramp down from his brow had an abrupt zag to the right. He placed his hands on either side of his nose, took a deep breath in through his mouth and pushed on it to the left, bringing it into alignment again. When it fell into place the flow of blood increased. Pinching his nostrils together, he climbed down from Zahara’s saddle.
Maija landed as Anders inspected Zahara’s underside for any obvious injury. One of her freshly healed wounds had cracked open slightly, blood beading along her exposed flesh.
“Are you two okay?” Maija called out, jumping down from Raffagaun and rushing over.
Still pinching his nostrils tightly together, Anders responded in a nasally voice, “I think we’d better stick to walking for a while. Zahara might’ve overdone it with her earlier flight and she thinks she tore something in her wings.”
“Ouch,” Maija said when Anders turned to address her. Blood continued to drip off his hand as he pinched his nose.
“Yeah, it sounded like it hurt. I’m going to heal her,” he said still holding his nose shut. “I might pass out from the amount of energy it will take.”
You could use Raffa again, Zahara suggested.
No, Anders said firmly, thinking of the whispering from Lazuran. Like you said, I need to learn to do this on my own.
Anders, I’ll be fine, she said, trying to spread her wings and folding them back as quickly as she’d started to spread them while cringing with pain.
