To Tame a Dragon - Tiffany Roberts Page 0,67

bolt of lightning. The change seemed to be coming quicker and easier each time, but he did not pause to reflect upon that as he landed in his dragon form.

He could fly faster in this shape, could carry her with greater ease—and that was all that mattered. All for her.

Falthyris turned back to the cave and climbed the slope. The Red Heat lashed against his scales furiously, demanding he cede to it, but he ignored it. If Dragonsbane spoke again, Falthyris did not listen.

He reached forward and delicately scooped up his little mate, cradling her body in his talons. He hooked the strap of her bag over one claw. Without another glance at the comet, Falthyris shoved himself into the air with his hind legs and took flight, shifting Elliya into a two-handed hold to better support her.

All he knew of her people was that they lived on a cliffside somewhere to the south, in the region where the desert and mountains met each other. She’d left her home the night the comet had appeared and found him only a few days later.

It couldn’t be far.

Elliya was frighteningly still as he sped through the sky. He kept his eyes moving, scanning the rocky landscape for any sign of a human settlement—light and smoke were usually the most obvious—all while trying not to acknowledge the fear fluttering in his chest, the desperation coursing through his limbs, the Red Heat insistently scratching at his scales and clawing at his mind.

Creatures made their calls and flitted across the ground below, some in terror but most in aggressive, lustful heat, driven by weeks of the comet’s curse raining down on the world.

Falthyris’s racing heart was the only measure of time he was aware of, frantic but steady, louder than his flapping wings and the wind rushing around him. If only he could hear hers, too. If only he could have that small assurance that she was still here, that she was still with him, that she was still fighting.

“Stay with me,” he growled, his heartfire surging and nearly forcing flames out of his throat.

He did not know how long or how far he’d flown when he finally spotted something in the distance—a faint crimson glow cast on bare stone. His heartbeat stuttered; it was likely nothing more than something reflecting the light of the red-stained moon, but it was the first thing to break up the more uniform colors of the land below since he’d left.

It was a spark of hope, and he clung to it.

Falthyris flew toward that splash of color, pushing himself faster, harder, beyond the limits he’d already reached. As he neared the glow, its nature became apparent—it was water, but the light was not reflected. The small pool, seated in a box canyon, was emitting its own glow independent of the moon and stars. It was ringed with flowering vegetation.

A word, a name, echoed in the back of his mind, uttered in Elliya’s voice—Cetolea.

Falthyris tilted into a wide turn, banking around to face the cliffs head-on, scanning them for any signs of life, of light, of humans.

The land around the glowing pool was broken into tiered cliffs and towering rock formations that were sprinkled with lush greenery. Some of those plants had open blossoms on them, petals turned toward the moon—they were too fragile to withstand the desert sun. That fragility reminded him too much of his Elliya. She was his flower, so beautiful, so fragrant and sweet, so precious, so…

No. She was not delicate. She would not wilt beneath the sunlight, nor beneath the light of the red comet.

His eyes caught on something behind the pool—a set of worn steps carved into the cliffside. The path leading away from those steps at the top of the cliff was obvious as soon as his gaze fell upon it, as were the pair of humans standing guard beside it. He followed the path with his gaze; it snaked along the wall of another cliff, moving toward a narrower canyon farther on.

He glimpsed a faint flicker of orange on that cliffside. His eyes widened, and he altered his flight path to allow himself a better viewing angle of the cliff face.

There were numerous holes bored into the side of the cliff, most of which were just large enough for a human to pass through, all connected by carved walkways and steps. Several of those holes were illuminated from within by the dancing orange glows of small fires.

Falthyris flicked out his tongue. The