Ash wanted to fly. Holt’s heart leapt at the idea. All thought of continuing the laborious process of Cleansing and Forging fled him.
“But,” he said cautiously, recalling Ash’s concerns over his blindness, “won’t it be hard for you?”
“We have to try.”
Although Ash’s eyes didn’t quite meet Holt’s own, they were so big and ice blue that it was hard to say no. They could only try, after all.
He got up. “Master Brode?”
Brode and Talia paused in their sparring. “Shouldn’t you be Forging?” Brode said. “Ash thinks he is ready to try flying.” “Does he now?”
Ash walked proudly forward, wings out like a peacock displaying its feathers.
“Well, they look grown enough,” Brode said. “What do you think, Pyra?”
Pyra lazily looked upon Ash and blinked her big amber eyes.
“She thinks he’s ready to try,” Talia told them. “Although she thinks he’ll crash straight away.”
“We won’t go too high,” Holt said.
He’d only taken a step toward Ash when Brode called, “And what do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting on my dragon?”
“Do you even know how to ride a horse?” Brode asked.
“Well, no,” Holt admitted, “but—”
“But what?” Brode chided. “You’ve never sat astride a horse and you think you can hop up onto a dragon’s back, just like that?”
Pyra rumbled at that. “Dragons are not to be ridden like a common nag,” she said, projecting her thoughts for all to hear now. “We do not need a rider to tell us where to go.”
“Dammit you’re right,” Brode said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’d forgotten that dragons and horses were different creatures. Thank goodness you’re here Pyra, to set me straight.”
Pyra snorted, turned her head and raised her wing higher to cover her snout.
“Was that needed?” Talia asked.
Brode rolled his eyes. “Sometimes, I wonder which of the pair of you is the real princess. The point is, we do not know how Ash’s condition will affect him. He’ll likely need Holt’s aid to direct him in some way, but before we get close to trying that out, he needs to be comfortable on his own before hauling someone around.” He cleared his throat. “The older dragons usually help the hatchlings at this stage. Pyra?”
Pyra flicked her tail.
“Just do it,” she said. “Experience is the true teacher.”
Holt opened his mouth to plead on his dragon’s behalf when Ash nudged him again.
“It’s okay,” Ash said. “The grumpy one is right. I feel like I know what to do.”
With that Ash began to beat his wings. He lifted a little off the ground, then a little more, until with a great jump he took off, wings flapping madly, climbing, climbing, climbing. Only to fall. He crashed and rolled, coming to rest like a tripped puppy.
Pyra emerged from behind her wing and gave a throaty rumble of laughter. Holt was almost about to snap at her and her haughtiness when the purple dragon got up.
Before she could do anything, Ash attempted flight again. He climbed higher this time before returning ungracefully to earth. Pyra stalked to Ash’s side and nipped at him to get his attention. Silent words passed between them. On Ash’s third attempt, he managed to glide himself back down but didn’t land well.
Holt dashed over to his dragon. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Ash grumbled.
Holt looked to Brode and Talia for some reassurance that struggling to fly was normal for a young dragon. Their faces spoke otherwise.
“You’ve got this,” Holt told Ash. He patted the dragon’s neck, but Ash shrugged away sourly. He took off again. And again. And again.
“That’s enough,” Brode said. “You’ll hurt yourself, Ash.” Ash lowered his head. He was actually panting.
“I can’t see.”
“I know,” Holt said sadly.
“The wind roars in my ears once I descend. Hard to build a picture of the world like that.”
Pity welled in Holt. His thoughts turned to the sad note in Ash’s song and his own guilt, and how this was all his fault. Then that pity he felt turned into another burst of madness. He threw his arm around Ash’s neck, hoisted himself onto the dragon’s back and settled between two ridges of bone, all before the others could stop him.
“Holt,” Brode barked, running over. “Get down, now!”
“I’ll be your eyes,” Holt said into Ash’s ear. The dragon’s scales were smooth enough but as Holt shifted his weight they dug in hard as stone.
“Get down!” It was Talia shouting now. Pyra stomped her front claws in protest as well. “If you can’t speak to Ash telepathically, you’re not ready.”
“He needs to be able to fly,” Holt said. There was a waver in his voice, but he held firm.
Ash only came into the world because he, Holt, had taken his egg. Ash wouldn’t have to suffer through with damaged eyes were it not for him. Wouldn’t have to handle Pyra’s scorn. What would other dragons think of him?
Holt would make this right.
He looked Talia in the eye, hoping she would understand where Brode might not.
“He needs to fly,” Holt said again. This time he couldn’t help choking on the words.
“You think too much with your heart, Master Cook. Go on.” Beaming, Holt leaned down and gripped onto Ash as best he could. “Fly boy.”
“Hold on!” Ash said excited. Then he kicked off the ground.
Holt’s stomach lurched as they took off. A moment of panic consumed him as he wondered what on earth he’d done. What if he fell?
“Guide me,” Ash said.
Only then did Holt realize he had closed his eyes in his terror. Opening them again, he struggled to cope with the cold wind beating against his face. He narrowed his eyes against the elements. Perhaps an Ascendant’s body could handle these pressures better than a Novice?
The night was dark, but moonlight did glint through small gaps in the clouds; enough to see by now his eyes had adjusted away from their campfire. His first thought was how strange the world looked from up high, entirely colored in shades of nightly black and blue. Stretching out to the east was the Withering Wood. Silhouetted canopies wrinkled to the horizon like so many leagues of tossed soil.
As for their training, Holt thought that trying to simply turn direction would be a good start.
“Let’s turn right,” Holt said. Nothing happened. Even with Ash’s prodigious hearing, Holt would not be heard over the wind unless he shouted. Feeling a fool, Holt called out the instruction again, hoping this time his voice would be heard.
Ash moved this time, veering right and then levelling out so they now faced south and away from the forest.
“You see,” Ash said triumphantly, “we can do this.”
“Let’s turn back then,” Holt called. Ash did turn back, but fully around, one hundred and eighty degrees so that he faced due north. Holt groaned. What he had meant was for them to return to their previous course. Ash had interpreted Holt’s instruction differently. Shouting instructions had its flaws. He would have to be crystal clear, and yet still brief enough to allow for quick movements. In a battle, this would be difficult. Not to mention that in stormier weather his voice might be drowned out entirely. He understood then why telepathic communication was needed for this.
Experience truly was the greatest teacher.
As they glided through the night, Holt considered the matter. Perhaps if they agreed upon some choice phrases then Holt’s meaning would be clearer; their own private set of commands, much as captains called to their troops. It would take time and practice, but it might work. And if he incorporated touch with his verbal commands, then they might create any number of combinations and meanings.
Holt may have never ridden a horse, but he knew enough that the riders pulled on the reins and hit their feet off the horse’s side. The reins he lacked but Holt still had his feet.
He tried to tap his right foot on Ash’s side and regretted lifting his leg at once. He was not yet steady enough on the dragon’s back to feel comfortable shifting around. Frightened of the fall, Holt bent low over and wrapped his arms as far around Ash’s neck as he could. Feeling somewhat more secure he then lifted his right leg and rapped his foot off Ash’s side.
“Boy?” Ash asked in some concern. “What are you doing?”
Holt grunted and carefully sat upright. Touch would require a lot of work too. Even if he found a way to do it well, the slightest wrong pressure or placement of his foot or hand might create a miscommunication.
Worry crept up that this might be impossible. Holt pushed the anxiety back down.
He’d keep trying. He would find a way. He had to.
Ash must have sensed his woes. “Don’t worry,” Ash said. Then he began to climb higher.
Don’t worry? Holt thought. That was easier said than done. Yet as Ash continued to ascend, the wind dropped to a cool breeze. Without that to contend with, Holt opened his eyes fully and felt more relaxed. There was something so free, Holt thought, as they climbed into the night, higher and higher as though seeking the stars.
Clouds parted and a brilliant half-moon gleamed white, bathing them in moonlight. Ash’s scales glistened; his wings seemed to trail a pale light and he grew warm. Heat passed over the dragon bond too. Holt checked on the core and found it was near blinding again.
Before he could think on the meaning of this, Ash announced, “Going down is the most fun. Ready?”
Holt braced himself. This would be the true test. “Ready—” He’d barely gotten the word out when Ash broke into a steep dive. For a second, Holt cried out in terror as they dropped, scrambling to hold onto Ash with all his might. The bond drummed. Joy and pleasure passed over from Ash, and then Holt too began to enjoy himself.
The sensation was unlike anything Holt had experienced in all his life.
This was wondrous. This was joy. How could any rider feel burdened when they could do this? His heart pounded and his veins coursed from the thrill of it as the ground rushed to meet them.
“Pull up,” he yelled gleefully, and Ash did. He swooped upwards, twisted to the east once more and then they were gliding over the treetops of the Withering Woods.
The dragon bond warmed Holt from the inside out. He’d never felt closer to Ash, not even when the dragon had slept in the nook of his arm. All Holt wanted was for them to fly on forever; fly far away from all their troubles.
It was a moment that passed.
“We should head back,” Holt said. It took several goes until Ash heard him.
“Will we fly tomorrow?” Ash asked.
Holt patted the dragon. “If Brode lets us.”
They turned. Holt called to Ash when they were heading the right way. They were still high enough that a glimmer of a campfire could be seen, despite Pyra shielding most of it with her body. That thought brought little comfort. Holt would have to tell Brode about it and then they would be sleeping in the pitch dark, with no heat in the night.
Ash dipped in his flight so that his talons scraped the top of the tallest trees.
“Careful,” Holt said, and even as he said this a flock of birds burst from the treetops; a scattering of black shapes against the starlight. Ash roared and rolled from side to side as he tried to shake them off.
Holt clung on for dear life again. Ash climbed in the air as he shook to get rid of the annoying birds.
“Calm down!” Holt shouted, but Ash was nearly vertical now, thrashing and twisting in mid-air. Holt’s grip faltered, his hand scrambling against rough scales. Then, he was falling.
This descent was anything but wondrous. His heart and bond pounded wildly, this time from sheer panic. Desperate, Holt did the only thing that came to mind—he screamed for Ash, yelling so loud his lungs felt ready to burst. He hoped Ash might hear him, might find him.
Ash twisted frantically in mid-air, struggling to locate him.
“Ash!” Holt called out. But this time, he hadn’t spoken the words. The cry for help had been sent telepathically, without his intending it. Whether it was a clarity brought on by the looming threat of death, Holt couldn’t say, but the dragon bond flared like never before. It burned so intensely that Holt was convinced he was on fire; it pounded so fiercely he was sure his ribs would shatter.
His eyes widened, suddenly able to perceive more than any human should. The night sky revealed more stars, and he could see every detail of Ash’s scales.
Ash pivoted in mid-air, seeming to lock onto his exact location. The dragon dove, wings tucked tightly against his sides, and caught Holt just before they both crashed into the top branches of the tree below. Though Ash’s body shielded him, Holt felt every impact as they tumbled down to earth.
