Page 3 of Shadowborne: Reckoning

Carnage screamed behind us again. It would take only one, too-slow turn, or misjudged dive at this height and he’d flame her, or have her in his talons.

Tucking my face against her neck again, I swallowed and felt calm overtake me.

One-on-one, we couldn’t win this. It was simple truth.

‘Akhane… Can you reach Kgosi?’

‘He knows my fear. He comes,’ but I could tell from her tone, he wasn’t close enough. ‘It is time, Bren. Carnage has not produced his flame, but he pursues in anger.’

‘Then… we fight, Akhane. We fight until we win, or die trying.’

‘Yes, Little Flame. Yes.’

We both went quiet.

It was surreal.

There were no more words needed. I felt the determination in her, and it matched my own. I couldn’t see any way clear to victory here, but I wouldn’t give up—and neither would my dragon.

‘Whatever you need to do—don’t consider me.’ As she darted away from Carnage, who took those precious seconds to change course, I reached down for the mounting strap and yanked it up, tying the end to the harness so it wouldn’t flap or catch her legs. Then I leaned down, extended my arms to the limit of their reach, and twisted my wrists into the neckstrap to lock myself against her back. ‘I’ll stay on—I’m here with you. You just stay alive!’

There was a moment, a rush in the bond from my dragon, a sense of oneness. Of singularity of purpose. Then she screamed and banked.

The leather cut into my arms and waist, pulling me against her neck as Akhane flew.

I’d once seen a bird dive and claw at the head of a bull that walked too close to its ground nest. I was reminded of that—the larger animal frustrated and furious, but unable to keep up with the small, shrieking missile. Just one wrong move and that bird would have been on the ground under the bulls hooves. Instead, it tussled with his horns and pecked at his face, turning that massive weapon into a furious, quivering rage.

Carnage roared. Not with promise this time, but with pure fury as Akhane ducked and twisted, rolled and dived, as she desperately fanned her inner fire to a weapon’s strength.

For a moment, I had hope. I knew if she’d done this in a battle witnessed by others, the Furyknights would tell the story for years.

‘I cannot… flame him…’ Akhane gasped. ‘My fire is weak—’

Plumes of smoke poured from her nostrils with every heaving breath, immediately blown into the night by our swift and constantly changing passage.

Despair ached in my chest, because no matter how amazing she was, she would tire quickly at this pace—and neither of us were naïve to the fact that Carnage was a highly trained, mature bull with the advantage of both experience and size. In a direct clash, we would not win.

I couldn’t help Akhane, and my limbs already shook with weariness. I’d soon become little more than dead weight. But there was no time to consider the implications, or make a new plan.

The city drew close, and with it, the distant strains of music, and shouts of men drifted to us on the wind. The sounds of safety, taunting me. Of witnesses. Or victims if we judged this incorrectly.

Still no sign of our mates.

‘Stay away from the city, Akhane. We can’t risk hurting innocent people if this becomes a fire fight.’

Akhane didn’t respond, but I felt her agreement in the bond as she completed that dizzying, backward flip-and-twist again, her momentum throwing my limp body against her shoulder, so my temple and cheek scraped on her scales.

Carnage screamed.

Then screamed again—a furious roar that shook the air as if he’d taken a blow.

I gripped the harness straps with numb hands, praying silently, my heart thudding in my skull, and braced for the next bank, praying it wouldn’t be our last.

But instead of another sudden shift in direction, Akhane glided, dropping to fly over the tree canopy, so low that I could make out individual leaves under her claws… passing in a straight line.

‘Akhane, what—?’

‘Our enemy retreats.’