Page 179 of Feralheart

Pain made thinking difficult. The edges of my vision blurred, but I had to choose. Listen to a member of my team or trust a dragon who could barely fly without his wings locking.

Vella was already banking left. Brimmore and Blair followed. Alys hesitated, looking between Vella and me.

“Right,” I said. “Aristus says right.”

“Your dragon says right?” Vella frowned. “Your Highness, I can see⁠—”

“Right.”

I leaned into Aristus’s turn. He responded, his wings catching the air currents, pleased that I’d finally stopped fighting him.

Curses rang out behind me, and the other dragons adjusted course.

“He’s not leading,” Lord Brimmore said, loud enough to carry. “He believes he’s following his dragon’s directions.”

Alys snickered, lagging in the rear.

The path vanished after the three of us had turned. Alys’s dragon clipped the edge of a dead area, one wing suddenly weightless while the other still beat. They spun, corkscrewing toward the void below, her shrieks cutting through the distorted air.

“Pull up,” Brimmore shouted, leaning over to watch.

I sent Aristus into a dive, his wings tucking. The stitches in my shoulder tore. I felt each one give, a sequence of snaps followed by hot blood trickling down my arm and chest. The bandage Eradin had wrapped so carefully soaked through.

I locked my thighs and leaned into his neck.

We weren’t going to reach Alys in time.

But her dragon found air again, the wings catching, hauling them up in a lurching climb. Her dragon’s left wing hung crooked, the membrane torn where it had brushed the void.

The dragon fought for altitude, each wingbeat weaker than the last. Blood dripped from the torn membrane, scattering below.

I pulled Aristus alongside them, close enough to catch the terror on Alys’s face. Her dragon was dying beneath her, and she knew it.

“Jump to Aristus,” I said.

Her eyes went wide. “I can’t⁠—”

“You can and you will. On three. One.”

She eased sideways in her saddle.

“Two.”

Her dragon pitched, the wounded wing folding at an awkward angle. They dropped before catching again.

“Three.”

She jumped.

Her foot caught in the stirrup, and she dangled, screaming.

I snapped my arm out and latched onto her arm, but as her dragon fell, it dragged her along with it. Gravity yanked her arm from my grip.

The two plunged down.

“Alys,” Vella’s scream tore through the distorted air.

When Alys and her dragon hit the void, they disappeared. Like the lake during the first challenge, the surface rippled and smoothed over.