A Dawn of Dragonfire - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,84
still lay leagues away, but her eyes were sharp, and she knew this was the place. Green and misty, it formed the shape of a crescent moon. From here, it seemed as small and distant as the moon itself. She had never felt such hope, such joy and relief. Her body shook with it. She blazed toward her salvation.
A volley of lampreys flew at her. Several slammed into her belly, knocking her into a spin. Teeth dug into her. For a moment she saw only spinning sky and clouds.
She clawed the lamprey on her belly, but it wouldn't release her. More of the beasts flew around her, mouths peeling back, revealing their many teeth. They leaped from all sides, flew in arcs, and rained above her. One more slammed into her side and bit. Soon they were sucking her blood as she screamed.
"Bayrin!"
Three of the beasts clung to him, writhing as they fed. Bayrin howled. He tried to roast them with fire, but only sparks left his maw; he too was too tired, too famished, too weak. He clawed at the beasts, and one fell, but two others slammed into him and bit.
"Fly, Mori, to the island!"
She coughed and gasped for breath. Two lampreys clung to her, and dozens more leaped all around. She lashed her claws and tail, knocking them aside. She couldn't even claw the ones attached to her without letting ten more bite.
"Mori, fly!"
She flew. Her wings blazed. She howled in pain. She shot forward, dipping, rising again, tumbling. She managed to slash the lamprey on her belly, and it fell, but two more leaped. One attached its maw onto her leg, and the other replaced the one on her belly. She screamed and clawed but kept flying.
She dipped. Soon she flew a hundred feet over the water, then fifty. The lampreys kept tugging her down, drinking her blood, and she howled as she flew.
Please, stars, give me strength, let me reach the land alive.
She did not know how long she flew. Minutes seemed like hours. Her eyes blurred. She could barely hear Bayrin roar at her side, barely see him. Mist swirled around her. Pines rose ahead.
The island.
It lay a league away, maybe closer, its trees towering, dark green columns rising from fog. She flapped her wings with every last drop of her strength. Just to reach that island. Just to land. To rest. To sleep.
A lamprey leaped from the water, slammed into her, and bit her neck.
Her eyes rolled back, she tumbled, and icy water crashed around her.
Her head went under. Water filled her nostrils. She kicked, dazed, pain pounding through her. She screamed and bubbles rose around her, white orbs in the deep blue. Her blood rose like red ghosts. Weakly, she lashed her claws, pierced one lamprey, and saw ten more swim toward her.
Goodbye, Bayrin, she thought. Goodbye, Requiem. I go now to the starlit halls… to Father and Mother. To Orin.
Claws slashed. A tail swung. Fangs bit. Lampreys screeched and fled, and Bayrin grabbed her under her wings, pulled her up, and her head rose from the water. She gasped for air.
"Mori, fly! Fly, Mori, we're almost there. Fly!"
He tugged her, raising her from the water. Boulders jutted around them. A rocky beach rose ahead, appearing and disappearing as waves crashed. She flapped her wings once, rose from the water, flapped again. Pines rose ahead like the columns of Requiem. She growled and flew, a lamprey still on her shoulder. She knocked her feet against a boulder, flapped her wings again, and drove a dozen feet forward. She hit another boulder, flew again, leaped and soared and crashed onto a beach.
Bayrin landed beside her, three lampreys on his body. He thrashed and knocked them off. Mori leaped onto them and bit, digging her fangs into their flesh. They opened their bloody maws to screech, and the dragons scurried up the shore, coughing and hacking. Bayrin slammed his tail against the last lamprey clinging to Mori, and it too fell, wriggled down the beach, and disappeared back into the water.
The wet, wounded dragons pulled themselves forward, too weak to fly, until they crawled beneath the pines. There they crashed down upon fallen pine needles, panting, blood seeping.
"We made it," Mori whispered, staring up at mist that swirled between the evergreens. "We reached the Crescent Isle."
Bayrin coughed and smoke rose from his mouth. Their tails reached out, seeking each other, and braided together. Soft rain began to fall. Mori closed her eyes and slept.