“Freaking brat!” Ray said, looking wildly over his shoulder. “Go away!”
It did not go away. In fact, our now somewhat desperate rocking was merely making it more curious. Another, even louder bellow broke the silence, which, if there was any fairness in life, would have also broken the shield, shattering it like glass in the presence of an opera star.
It did not shatter, but a moment later we were on our way, nonetheless. Not because of our combined effort, but because of the footsteps of the giant creature, which were thudding this way. They began moving the ground so much that we started moving, too.
One of the footsteps jumped us out of the depression and back onto the road, wobbling about like a giant ball. The baby laughed delightedly, and crashed into us, its little paws scrabbling at the shield’s surface, its bright eyes peering inside curiously. That didn’t add much in the way of momentum, as it couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds.
It did, however, terrify Ray.
“Get away! Get away!” he screeched, while apparently trying to take his own advice. He ran straight into the shield and then kept going, even when it began to revolve. He reminded me of a hamster on a wheel, if the hamster was a traumatized master vampire with superhuman strength and considerable motivation.
We started to roll, something made easier by the flat, trampled dirt of the road, which appeared to be well used. That would have been a considerable improvement, except that the plateau wasn’t as flat as I’d thought. It looked to be so, but was in fact slanted.
Which was why we had started rolling back toward the larger dragon.
Ray screeched again and threw himself sideways, and we left the dirt road for the verge, which was grassy and strewn with wildflowers and rocks. The latter made us judder every time we hit one and then bounce, which made it difficult to steer. Not that that mattered after a moment.
Not when we dropped off the plateau entirely and headed toward the valley below, all while being chased by the small dragon and what I assumed was its mother.
“I think it believes we’re a toy!” I yelled, as the baby rolled past us, all scrunched up in a little ball and giggling. It seemed to find this whole thing amusing. Raymond did not.
At least, I didn’t think so. He was no longer pushing as there was no need, as we were speeding down the steep mountainside. Instead, he had braced himself against the shield bubble, his newly reattached limbs splayed out, to try to keep from thumping about as the fey were doing, I supposed. But his face was almost blank.
It looked as if he might be having trouble processing his emotions right now.
I smiled at him encouragingly as I ran to stay upright, which did not appear to help. I could sympathize. I frequently felt the same, and without Dory, who I looked to for clues on how to behave, I was at a loss.
Particularly when I discovered that there was something that could crack a fey shield, after all.
The paw that came crashing down on us from above was longer and heavier than a car, and with far more force behind it. Fortunately, the shield was as slick as glass. It slammed into the dirt, but then shot out from underneath the huge foot before the web of cracks above our heads became a full-on structural failure.
“See,” I told Ray, who was staring at me with huge, blank eyes. “That was lucky, wasn’t it?”
And then the massive tail hit us.
We shot off the side of the mountain as if we had just come into contact with the biggest baseball bat in the world. I had my first look at the full-sized dragon as we tore through the air, and she was magnificent. At least the size of a five-story building, she made Dory’s friend look petite. I hadn’t realized it when we met, but Claire—the half dragon’s human name—might still be an adolescent, the equivalent of a teenager in their world.
I did not think that this one was.
She ran after us—moving gracefully in spite of her size—and then flew, taking off from the steep mountainside as easily as a human would step off a stair.
I watched in awe as she launched herself into the air, leaving an avalanche of dirt behind her. Unlike her baby, she was all shades of blue, from the acre of pale, silver-blue scales on her belly, to aquamarine on her sides, to sapphire on her back and, finally, to midnight along the heavily ridged spine. The darkest hues blended beautifully with the iridescent color of her wings, which was variously black, navy and silver when the sun hit them just right.
No, not the sun, I thought.
An alien star . . .
I felt dizzy again, and only came back to myself when someone began tugging on my clothes. I looked up and realized that Ray had found an emotion at last. Unfortunately, it appeared to be terror, because he was screaming again. And pointing
ahead to where something else was hurtling at us through the sky.
Or perhaps we were hurtling toward it, I thought, or we were both rushing at the other, which might explain the speed at which—
“We’re gonna crash!” Raymond shrieked, as whatever was in front of us tried desperately to turn.
It succeeded, although not in getting away. We hit it broadside, and at such a rate that all I saw was a massive explosion of shattering wood. I hadn’t had a clear view of the craft or whatever it was, but it must have been big judging by all the fey suddenly falling everywhere. And getting plucked out of the air by the mother dragon, who seemed to have forgotten us in the face of an easy meal.
For our part, we continued racing ahead, and then falling so quickly that we splashed down in water what felt like only seconds later. I was still looking behind us, at a wooden platform that was all that remained of whatever we’d hit. It was listing around the skies, half a dozen fey holding onto the edges and another few trying to haul them back up, while a dragon picked them off like appetizers from a canape tray.