Chapter Sixteen

Flight

Inerys kept a healthy distance between her and Ephaxus as she listened intently to Rhydian’s instruction. With he and Ayduin bent on having her fly, there was no way around the issue. The best she could do was absorb what she could and cling on for dear life. Though, she had been adamant about remaining on the ground for the time being. She was practically shaking in her boots and wanted a chance to reign in her nerves before she climbed up anyone’s back.

“You’ll want to check the cinches each time you mount the saddle,” Rhydian said, demonstrating how to do so from where he stood on Ephaxus’ shoulder, “the leather is strong, but is still subject to wear. It’s good practice to make a habit of inspecting it visually and by hand.”

She eyed the larger, boney scales he’d pointed out between the wyvern’s wings. A heavy metal ring appeared to have been fused to the edge of the scale, providing a sort of anchor point for the saddle mounts. There were three such rings along either side of his back, where the saddle could be safely secured without disrupting movement. The saddle itself was also more flexible than she’d expected, able to bend and flex with Ephaxus as needed. She found it all rather ingenious.

A saddle similar to those made for horses wouldn’t be feasible on a creature like this. The wing membrane alone ran the length of the wyvern’s body, over his hips and down past the base of his tale. She saw no reasonable way to run straps around the wings without cutting into that delicate membrane and with the expansion of the chest during flight, a central cinch was pointless.

“How are those rings fixed to the scales?” She wondered.

“They’re fused with the scale itself,” he said, “usually by someone with a Path that includes the ability to fleshweave, like a Sage.”

She inclined her head, making a mental note to ask him what a Path was later.

“Would you like to come up and see for yourself?” He asked with a raised brow.

Inerys toyed with her gloved fingers. “Are you sure he wants me up there?”

He shrugged a casual shoulder, but she hadn’t failed to notice his small, amused smirk.

“You tell me. You’re the wyvern whisperer.”

She sighed. “Right.”

Focusing on Ephaxus, she tentatively reached out with her mind much like she had the night prior. She brushed against his mental core, delivering her silent question along with her intentions. She felt his attention shift, honing in on her as he raised his head.

“May I?” She asked.

He gave a slow blink, then dipped his head in a slight nod.

“See? Nothing to be afraid of,” Rhydian said, offering his hand.

Inerys begged to differ. She could imagine any number of ways the wyvern could rid himself of her, if he wanted to. How convenient would it be for her to accidentally fall off his back, only to be lost in the clouds.

“Horses don’t have fangs the length of my forearm, Rhydian,” she said, taking his offered hand with no small amount of reluctance.

He grinned, aiding her up Ephaxus’ wing. “I suppose they don’t.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly, trying to balance herself, “you as well, Ephaxus.”

The wyvern rumbled in reply, ever patient. Which surprised her, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. It wasn’t quite indifference she sensed from the creature, but something akin to it. Perhaps it was a coping mechanism, considering what he’d gone through. Rhydian had filled in the details of his circumstance earlier that day. From what she understood, he and his late rider had been close. As for his back and damaged meridians, she could sympathize.

Holding fast to one of the spikes of his shoulder, Inerys steadied herself. Her other hand trembled and she took a moment to collect her breath. She could do this, couldn’t she?

“Are you all right?” Rhydian asked, his brow furrowed.

She nodded, her eyes closed.

“If you’re not up for this, you can remain here. Tanuzet and I will find you something to sate your cravings-”

“No,” she said, a bit too quickly, “I can do this. I just need a moment to gather myself.”

Searching her face, he said, “All right. When you’re ready, I’ll help you up into the saddle.”

Taking a breath, she said, “Ready.”

He patted the ledge of one of the plates higher up Ephaxus’ back.

“Step up here. It should give you enough of a boost to reach the lower aid strap,” he said, gesturing to a short rope ladder with what appeared to be leather grips, “if you need to grab a spike for stability, feel free.”

“This is insane,” she muttered under her breath.

Steeling herself, she grasped one of the long, black spikes that jutted up from the otherwise milky plate scales and used it to help clamber up to the ladder. Mercifully, Ephaxus remained perfectly still as she climbed and settled herself in the saddle. She expressed her gratitude through an emotional push, adjusting her seat.

The saddle itself was built in such a way that she was more or less straddling the padded seat. Her legs rested comfortably within the grooves on either side, but she also noticed a pair of fixed stirrups that could be flipped into place. The gently curved metal bars were wide enough to balance comfortably on the balls of her feet, with leather straps present to hold her toes in place, should she choose to crouch, rather than sit.

“Ignore these for the time being,” Rhydian said, “for now, we’ll just have you sit. It’s more comfortable during the first few flights, anyway. You’ll want to hold the main grip here with both hands, especially during take off.”

She ran her hand along the leather-wrapped bar fixed to the front of the saddle. “All right.”

“Now, the first flight is always the hardest, but Ayduin and I will be in the air with you if anything happens.”

Vaelor whistled above them in confirmation, waiting along the top of the aviary with Ayduin on his back.

“Thank you,” she said, “so how do I . . .steer?”

There were no reins, after all.

He tapped the side of his head. “Nudge him with your thoughts the way you do when communicating. It’s a bit difficult when you’re not bonded, but doable. Especially with your natural affinity.”

“Is it that outlandish?” She asked. “My affinity?”

“At your Ascension, yes. Your mental core appears to be more developed than most at their second Ascension. I’m willing to bet it has something to do with your Inheritance. Whatever the case, it might make your life a bit easier while we balance your foundation.”

“I’ll certainly take what I can get,” she said.

He took a moment to double check her anchor points before hopping down to the ground.

“Familiarize yourself with the saddle, then ask Ephaxus to take off when you’re ready.”

Crazy, stupid . . .

“I’ll do my best not to fall off,” she said, swallowing the bile in her throat.

“Have a little faith, Inerys, you’ve survived worse.”

Ephaxus offered his encouragement, as well as what she sensed was his promise to take things easy. She silently thanked him, making herself as comfortable as she could. She shifted her weight, settling deep in the seat, and gripped the main saddle bar with both hands.

Behind them, Vaelor and Ayduin took to the sky.

Ephaxus rose from his belly in anticipation, the membranes of his wings rustling, gaze tracking their ascent. With a deep breath, Inerys issued her command, praying this little adventure wouldn’t end in her death. The wyvern set back on his hind legs and raised his wings, lifting off with one powerful push. She squeezed her eyes shut, teeth gritted. Each beat of his wings carried them higher above the city and for a time, all Inerys could do was cling to the saddle. Soon enough, she realized how gentle the inclined had actually been. She peaked open an eye, feeling him level off in the air, his wings wide.

The crisp night air brushed her cheeks, carrying with it a menagerie of scents from the city below. Daring to peer down, she found a sprawling tapestry of amber starlight settled between the mountains. Towers stood tall along the valley and she spied a vast plain stretching far to the east. Rivers gleamed silver under the full moon, one bisecting the city itself at various points. Ships drifted along its length, the like of which she had only seen sketched in her books. Their grand sails dwarfed those of what she was accustomed to in the Seven Cities. The Human World, as they called it here.

Vidaar would be beside himself if he could see the world like this, visit a city like this. Nan wouldn’t know what to think and Alaric - he’d want to see those ships in person. Longing throbbed in her chest. They were her family, her future. Or at least, they had been.

Once.

Some foolish part of her wanted nothing more than to fly home right now. She wouldn’t have to worry about traversing the dangers of the deepwoods from the sky. Perhaps she could arrive before sunrise and spirit away her family before anyone was the wiser. The sorcerers certainly wouldn’t miss a few Hounds.

Ephaxus rumbled beneath her, as if reading her thoughts.

“Sorry,” she murmured, “just a bit homesick.”

It was the truth, foolish as her daydreams had been. One day, she’d make it back to them. She just had to remain whole long enough to do so. To stay strong, for them.

She could do that.

The wyvern spared her a glance over his shoulder, understanding passing behind his metallic eye. While she’d been separated from those she loved, he’d had his taken away. If the bonds she’d witnessed between the others were any indication, his loss had been great indeed. Sympathy passed between them and Inerys found his presence strangely comforting.

Unless her sense betrayed her, the feeling was mutual.

In a way, he almost resonated with her. At least, on some subconscious level that was difficult to place. Curiously, she explored the connection they shared, feeling as though she had somehow reunited with an old friend. His attention was every bit as keen as hers, searching her Soul in kind.

Slowly, Inerys removed one of her gloves. She leaned forward, allowing instinct to guide her light-laced fingers along the scales of his back. Distantly, she heard someone shouting, but neither she nor Ephaxus reacted.

Light raced down from her fingers.

A web of light flared across Ephaxus’ shoulder and down his chest like the roots of a tree, stemming from her outreached hand. His body jerked and she felt his sharp intake of breath as if they shared the same lungs. The veins connecting them faded from blue to gold as something snapped into place between them. For a moment, it felt as if her spirit had been Shackled anew.

She yelped, hand recoiling as if she’d been burned.

Beneath her, Ephaxus roared into the night, his wings arching high above her before he plunged down toward the river. An overwhelming sense of weightlessness overcame her, her stomach clawing its way into her throat. Whatever screams managed to escape her were drowned out by the wind and the blood rushing in her ears. At this speed, she wasn’t certain she could remain in the saddle and it wasn’t until she saw their reflection in the oncoming river, that he pulled up. Water hissed and splashed beneath them, tossed about by the force of his wings alone.

He banked hard to the right, pulling past a ship with sails nearly as wide as his wings, then to the left, where two more ships rocked in their wake. Shouts rose from the men aboard the ships, though even her sensitive ears could not discern the words. She imagined they were curses, none of which pleasant and likely all directed at her and her perceived recklessness. In those moments, she was too terrified to even attempt to soothe Ephaxus.

Whatever she had done, she wasn’t sure could be undone. She felt Ephaxus in a way that was too personal, as if they were two minds occupying the same body. They veered upright at a steep angle, following the path of the river toward the mountains. Their speed alone was incredible, though she quickly realized that this body, Ephaxus’ body, was being pushed far beyond what it should. The weakness it experienced was not unlike that of her own.

They roared as one, inhuman and shrill.

A shadow passed overhead with frightening speed, distracting both minds from the panic they shared. Inerys faintly registered Tanuzet sweeping in beside them, her concerned nickering trying to draw Ephaxus’ attention. Then, she heard Rhydian shouting her name. It was distant, at first and muddled, like she was underwater. Though the more she focused on it, the clearer his voice became.

“Inerys? Inerys, you need to snap out of it!”

Her thoughts were sluggish, head pounding. There was another voice too, one she didn’t recognize. One that wasn’t being spoken aloud, but rather in her mind. Or, was it Ephaxus’ mind?

You need to level out!

The voice was decidedly feminine, with a frightened edge that set Inerys’ nerves prickling anew. Blinking, the world around them began to fall into place. Vaelor was behind them, wings angled in his pursuit while Tanuzet and Rhydian kept pace beside them, the former reaching to snag one of Ephaxus’ horns in her jaws.

Horror dawned on her.

They were falling.