Avian (The Dragonrider Chronicles) (13 page)

I started to get dressed, pulling on a pair of Roland’s old boots and vambraces, two thick wool tunics, heavy canvas pants, and a belt. I clipped my hunting knife to my hip, tied my hair back, and clasped an old traveling cloak around my shoulders. It didn’t take me long to pack up the rest of my gear, including the old scimitar I had found in the Roland’s trunk. I tucked Beckah’s handkerchief into one of my vambraces where I knew it would be safe, and started downstairs.

The snow was falling heavily when I came outside. Mavrik was growling about the cold and flicking his tail as I pushed the barn door open. He stayed hunkered down in the hay, his wings and legs folded up close to his body, watching me as I looked around for something to use as a makeshift saddle. I found a length of rope and I used it to tie my bag onto his back, but there wasn’t much else to work with. My safety would depend on Mavrik. It made me extremely anxious. We would be flying higher and further to reach the Devil’s Cup, a small crescent-shaped valley where Blybrig Academy sat looking to the western seas. I would have to ride carefully and take things slowly.

It took a few minutes of coaxing to get Mavrik out of the barn. He hated the snow, not that I blamed him. We hadn’t been in Saltmarsh for very long, but I was already missing the warmer coastal temperatures, too. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only thing I missed about Saltmarsh.

Once we took off, soaring above the heavy clouds that smothered Mithangol in winter, the air was much clearer. In the distance, the sun was just beginning to rise, and it turned the tops of the clouds a warm pinkish golden color. It looked like a sea of color spread out before us, breaking against the peaks of the Stonegap Mountains that stuck up through the clouds like castle spires. The air was still chilly, and it cut right through all the layers of my clothing. Still, it was good to breathe in the clean, free air.

“Ready to get back to business?” I asked as I gave Mavrik’s scaly neck a pat. Even over the rush of the air humming past us, I knew he would hear me. “I bet Nova’s already there waiting for you.”

He canted his head to the side some so he could look back at me with one of his big yellow eyes. He gave a trumpeting roar, and beat his wings harder. We lurched forward with more speed. It made me smile and lean down against his neck. After months of dreading what was waiting for me at Blybrig, now that I was finally going there…I just couldn’t wait.

We were already making good time. I used the peaks of the mountains as markers, so I knew exactly which way to fly as we made our way toward Blybrig. As the day wore on, the temperatures on the ground started to rise and the clouds began to clear away. I could see the cliffs and steep ravines dotted with fir trees far below. Everything was still covered in snow. It reminded me of the long, grueling journey through the mountain pass I had made with my father last year. I was more than happy not to be on foot again this year, let alone traveling with Ulric. He wasn’t exactly good company.

“I wonder if Felix will even recognize me,” I wondered out loud. The air rushing by was so loud I could barely hear my own voice.

Mavrik snorted, and glanced back at me again. In my mind, he showed me an image of when Felix and I had parted ways last year, awkwardly exchanging a few friendly punches on the arm. Felix had been so worried about letting me go back home by myself. He had also spent a lot of time sticking up for me last year, and making sure none of the other students beat me to death when the instructors weren’t looking. Boy, was he in for a surprise.

Suddenly, Mavrik’s body shuddered underneath me. He went completely tense, all the muscles in his body becoming as solid as stone. I barely had time to brace myself before he snapped his wings in tight against his body and started a frantic dive straight down.

“Stop it! What are you doing?” I shouted at the top of my lungs. I pulled on the knobby spines that ran down his back with all my might, trying to get him to level off again.

Mavrik ignored me. He started making swift, jerking twists to avoid cliffs as we rocketed down toward the earth. Fear burrowed deep into my gut like a cold knife, but I clenched my teeth and tried to flatten out against his neck. Without a saddle to anchor me down, it took everything I had just to hang on.

Then an image flashed across my mind. It was garbled and hazed with frantic color, but I saw it clearly for an instant. I saw the faces of Katty, Bren, and Mr. Crookin, all pale with terror. I saw blood on the snow, and something big closing in for the kill.

Then it made sense. They must have been somewhere far below us on the Stonegap Pass, making their way to Blybrig as well. Mavrik could smell them, even from a few miles away. I felt like an idiot for doubting him. He showed me another flurry of images, and this time I saw the knife in my belt, the scimitar, and the maneuver he wanted to try.

“All right,” I muttered as I reached down to pull out the hunting knife. “Get me as close as you can.”

Mavrik spun downward, bursting through the last layer of clouds that hugged the lowest parts of the mountains. Rocks and steep cliff sides seemed to appear out of nowhere, so close that a few more inches would have taken my head off.

I saw them a few hundred yards away. Mr. Crookin’s wagon was stuck in the deep snow on the side of the road. It looked like it had a broken axel, and the horses were panicking, pawing the air and bucking against their harnesses. Katty was huddled over her father, who was lying motionless on the ground. The snow around them was stained red with blood. Bren was still on his feet, holding a sword at arm’s length to keep three big wolves at bay. The wolves were pacing and snapping, looking for the right moment to strike.

Mavrik’s thoughts raced across my brain, showing me scenarios and where the other wolves were. He smelled eight in all. I tightened my grip on my knife. The scimitar was old. I wasn’t confident it would hold up in a fight, so I decided only to use it as a last resort.

We burst through the heavy fog, and Mavrik let out a bone-rattling roar. It startled the three wolves who were squaring off with Bren, sending them scurrying to the thickets on the side of the road. I knew they would be back.

I gathered my courage, and waited until the very last second. The ground rushed up, and Mavrik flared his wings in the blink of an eye. He stretched out his hind legs, touching down for only a flash of a moment before kicking skyward again.

As Mavrik touched the earth—I jumped off his back. I hit the ground and dropped into a roll so that the impact didn’t break my legs. When I got up, my head was spinning and it took a second to get my bearings.

Someone behind me shouted, “It’s a dragonrider!”

I spun, spotting Bren first because he was standing closest to me. He was still armed with a sword. Then I locked eyes with Katty. It only lasted a second or two, but the minute she saw my face, I knew she recognized me.

“Look out!” Bren shouted again.

I turned around, just in time to see fangs flashing in my face. A wolf lunged at me, and I didn’t hesitate. All that training with Sile clicked into my brain instantly. I dove, spinning to dodge the wolf’s attack, and swinging around to drive my hunting knife into the back of the animal’s neck. The wolf yelped, whined, and collapsed onto the snow.

“On your left!” Bren was standing with his back up against mine, giving us a circle of protection to watch on all sides.

The mountain wolves closed in, emerging from the thickets like ghosts. There were seven in all, each one easily two hundred pounds. They encircled us, pacing around to look for the perfect opening to make an easy kill. They were wild with rage, lashing out recklessly like they were rabid. Something about it didn’t seem right. I had never heard of wolves acting this way, and when I looked them in the eyes, I got a sick feeling that scrambled my thoughts. It made it impossible to try to speak to them like I had with other animals.

Bren caught one in the leg with his sword, and jumped on it quickly to drive his blade through its ribs before it could get away. I had the smaller weapon, so I knew I would have to get up close and personal. I was prepared for that.

A big wolf lunged at my front while another came from the side. I managed to throw my knife, hitting the first one right between the eyes. It dropped to the snow immediately and didn’t move again. The second one hit me like a brick wall. I felt its jaws clamp onto my thick leather vambrace, beginning to jerk and flail like it wanted to rip my arm off. Its teeth couldn’t touch my skin because of the thick leather, and I quickly reached for my scimitar.

The instant the blade left the sheath, it filled the air with a metallic humming sound. I was only barely aware of it, like a faint chime on the wind. But all of a sudden, the wolf let me go. Immediately it started backing away with its ears pressed back, whining like it was in pain. I was stunned, staring at the cowering creature.

Then another wolf hit me from behind. I felt its jaws on my shoulder, tearing at the layers of my clothes to get to my skin. Immediately, I threw myself backwards with all my strength and hit the ground so my weight bore down on the wolf, pinning it underneath me. I spun the scimitar in my hands, jabbing it backwards and catching the beast in the stomach. It shrieked in pain and finally went limp.

Looking up from where I was sitting in the snow, I saw the eyes of three big wolves still standing. They started closing in. Bren was right next to me, shaking like he was terrified but still holding his sword. He kept looking over at me as though he expected me to give him orders.

Suddenly, an image flashed across my mind.

“Get down!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. I threw myself at Bren, grabbing him from behind and wrestling him to the ground a second before it hit.

I heard Mavrik’s roar, the wind buzzing over his scaly hide, and the sound of him breathing flame. I felt the heat of it on the back of my neck, singing a few hairs as he passed right over us. When I looked up again, Mavrik had disappeared back into the fog, but the wolves were nothing but three mounds of burning fur in the middle of a big puddle of sticky venom.

It was over. Everything was strangely quiet, except for the popping of the flames. The wolves lay motionless all around us, and I let Bren up as I staggered back to my feet. He stared at me with a mixture of shock, horror, and surprise. I was about to explain, but another sound made us both turn. We raised our blades, ready to fight.

But it wasn’t a wolf this time.

What came out of the woods looked like some kind of cat. It was huge, as big as a fully-grown bear, and covered in shaggy silver fur. It had a bobbed tail, big muscular legs, and two long fangs that dripped down below its jaws. It stalked toward us with its head low, snarling with rage.

“W-what is that?” I heard Bren whisper from beside me.

I was too stunned to answer.

Its blue eyes were focused right on me, like it was looking right into my soul. When I looked back, it was as though I could feel chaos boiling inside the creature. It was the same feeling the wolves had given me, and I couldn’t figure out why. It was a wild, angry, primal chaos. It didn’t have any sense of right or wrong. It only craved violence and blood. I knew I had experienced this kind of reckless fury before, I just couldn’t remember where. I didn’t have time to think about it then.

Slowly, I reached a hand out toward Bren. “The sword,” I said. “Give it to me.”

Bren didn’t argue. I felt him put the hilt of the sword in my hand. I squeezed it hard.

“Now move away. Don’t look into its eyes,” I told him, keeping my own gaze fixed upon the huge silver cat. I couldn’t explain why, somehow I knew it was only interested in me. This was personal.

I stepped toward the beast, meeting it in the snow with Bren’s sword in one hand, and my scimitar in the other. I gripped both weapons and squinted into the cold mountain wind, watching as the animal moved with me. It stepped when I did, and smelled the air. I could feel it looking me over, searching for a weakness.

I got no warning. The cat charged before I even had a chance to try to speak to it. I wanted to talk it down, to settle things without spilling any more blood, but now that option was completely off the table. The cat sprang toward me as fast as a bolt of lightning. I saw its jaws opened wide, rows of jagged fangs ready for the kill. There wasn’t time to hesitate. I had one chance, and one plan.

I dove toward it.

Behind me, Katty screamed.

My body moved, acting on pure instinct. I wasn’t even afraid. I ran toward the cat and dropped to my knees, skidding under its body and swinging both blades out wide to strike its legs.

The beast howled in pain. I felt the impact as the cat’s huge body collapsed into the snow. It flailed around on the ground, snarling and snapping as I got back on my feet.

Even when I stood over the cat, it was still trying to get to me. It couldn’t even move its hind legs anymore, since I’d nearly cut them off, but its rage was so intense that it wouldn’t surrender. For whatever reason, the cat
needed
to kill me. It was like some kind of crazed sickness. I could feel that boiling wrath starting to leak into my own mind, just by looking at the cat. Something about it disgusted me beyond words.

I jabbed my scimitar into the animal’s heart. Immediately, it went still and that sick feeling of fury drained out of the air. I stood there, watching the last few breaths of life leave its body, and I realized today was the first time I had ever killed anything with my own hands. I wasn’t necessarily proud of that. I didn’t want to kill anything, but there wasn’t any other choice.

Everything was quiet again. Slowly, I turned around to look at Bren and the others. They were all staring back at me with wide eyes. Even Mr. Crookin looked completely dumbstruck. I bowed my head some, and sheathed my scimitar.

Behind me, I heard the sound of wing beats and felt the ground flinch as Mavrik landed. He let out a deep growl, and sent an image into my mind that made my hands curl up into fists. He was reminding me that these people might not be my friends.