A Night of Dragon Wings - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,51

and the statue shook behind them with the shrieks of the beasts above. "We'll find that forest, and we'll find lots of food and water, and we'll survive."

Treale sniffed again and knuckled her eyes. "Can you fly, Mori?"

"I don't know. Let me eat a little more. Let me catch my breath. And then we'll try to fly. If I can't, will you let me ride you—you a dragon and me a human?"

Treale laughed through her tears. "You'd fall straight off! But if you can't fly, I will hold you in my claws, and I promise to be gentle."

They finished their pomegranate, then some bread and cheese Treale had pilfered from the dungeon, and Mori felt some of her strength return. The world still seemed too bright, and her limbs too shaky and weak, but she managed to push herself up to her feet.

"We'll walk a little farther," Treale said. She pointed ahead. "See the mountains there in the west?"

Mori squinted, able to see only a tan smudge. She nodded. "I see them."

"None of these creatures fly there. But we will. We will rest there among the stones for the night, then keep going. The swamps of Gilnor lie a few days northwest. We'll find more food there—fish and frogs to eat—and we'll find shelter under trees." Treale's voice trembled as she spoke, but she clenched her fists and plowed on. "We'll fly north from the swamps. A few days' flight will take us to the forests of Salvandos. That's where the true dragons live, and they can protect us. We can be there this moon, if we fly fast enough."

"The salvanae!" Mori breathed.

She had read many books about them. True dragons of old, they had no wings, no limbs, and no human forms; they flew as great chinking serpents, wild in the forests and mountains, forging no metal and plowing no fields, yet studying the stars and singing many old songs. Mori had seen a salvana once—the priest Nehushtan, a wise old dragon who had visited Requiem a year ago.

She lowered her head. Memories of Requiem flowed over her, as powerful as whips: Lacrimosa Hill where she had stood with her brother, the library with the leather books, and her canopy bed where she would laugh with Bayrin. Her trembling returned, and tears filled her eyes, but she knuckled them dry. She could not panic now. She could not weep now. They were still in danger; there would be time for tears later.

"Let's go," she said. "We'll walk to the mountains as humans so the nephilim don't see us. We'll fly from there. I'm strong enough."

They began the journey. Mori walked with her arms slung across Treale's shoulders, and the young squire held her waist and helped her every step. The nephilim kept swarming above, screaming of the dragons they'd eat. If they saw Mori and Treale, two haggard women, they did not see them as prey. When one landed in the desert before them, and hissed at them, Mori nearly fainted with fright. The nephil, however, only tossed its head, spraying drool, and took flight again.

"Dragons!" it screeched. "Solina will feed us. We will feast upon them!"

Mori tightened her lips and kept walking toward the mountains. "Come on, Treale. Let's hurry. I reckon Solina told these creatures they can only eat prisoners and dragons, not her people. They must think we're Tirans. But once they get hungry enough to forget orders… I want to be far away."

They seemed to walk forever. The sand burned Mori's bare feet, and the sun pummeled her. When evening fell, she looked behind her. The city of Irys was distant now, a patch of stone under the red sky. Nephilim still bustled above it, cawing and swirling, landing and soaring. None now flew over Mori and Treale; they were safe from them here.

When Mori looked west toward the mountains, she let out a sigh. They still seemed so distant, leagues and leagues away, no closer than they had ever been.

"Once we get to those mountains, we can fly," Treale said. "We'll be far enough from the nephilim. They're staying at the city, and they won't see two dragons from there."

Mori nodded. Yet how far was enough? She felt weak, and her eyes rolled back. When she blinked, she found herself sitting in the sand, legs splayed out.

"Oh, Mori," Treale said softly, knelt, and touched Mori's forehead. "I'm sorry; I pushed you too hard. We'll rest for a bit here, okay? We'll keep walking toward