by Angie Sage
Decimus was falling fast. As he dropped past Declan and Timoleon, Edward yelled, “Declan! Get up there. Get that traitor. Firestix, boy, firestix!”
Declan looked up at their old Grand silhouetted against the moon, gently fanning her outstretched wings. She looked magnificent. And there, perched in the rider’s dip, almost hidden so that all he could see were the soles of her boots, was the kid who had been brave enough to Lock with the Lennix Grand and get away with it—unlike the last one. Declan thought of all the killing and misery he had seen, how he had grown to hate it, and he suddenly knew he did not want to be part of it for a moment longer. If Bellacrux, their wise old Grand who was someone he had always looked up to, had decided to leave, then why should he stay? His father’s harsh voice interrupted his thoughts. “Do it, Declan! Do it now!”
Okay, Declan thought. I will. I will do it. Now.
Watched approvingly by his father, Declan flew Timoleon rapidly up toward Bellacrux and Allie. Tim, I’m leaving, he sent to his Lock. I’m not being a Lennix a moment longer. Are you with me?
With you always until the end, Timoleon sent in return.
Declan hugged his Lock. Just you and me. We’ll be free. Together.
Declan was now drawing close to Bellacrux and he knew that Bellacrux would see him as the enemy. He must be careful. As he approached he saw Bellacrux open her mouth for another firebreath. “Don’t fire!” he called out. “Please. I have something for you.”
Bellacrux regarded Declan with wise eyes. She knew he was the best of the Lennix bunch—although that was not saying much—and even though he had a firestik in his hand, she decided to trust him. Warily, she watched Declan bring Timoleon alongside.
“Harlarla te faa,” Declan said in dragonsong: I wish you well.
Bellacrux nodded, accepting the greeting. She watched Declan lean out and push his firestik holster into Allie’s hands. “Take it,” he said. “Do what you have to. I’m out of here. Tell Joss good luck from me. Maybe we’ll meet again one day.” And with that Timoleon wheeled away, and in a moment Declan was heading away from the flight, away from his family, and flying toward the rest of his life.
Far below, as his injured Lock fought for every breath, Edward stared up at Declan in disbelief. What was the boy doing, handing over his weapon to the enemy and flying away like a coward? It was desertion, no less. And then the realization hit Edward. Declan had indeed deserted, but not just the battle. It was worse than that: He had deserted his family. “Declan!” Edward screamed out. “Declan! Come back here right now!” But Declan did not even turn his head, and Edward knew his eldest son was lost to him. He hammered his fists in despair on Decimus’s hard old neck and pushed back sobs of rage.
Suddenly, Tamra and Ramon appeared at his side. The young Blue was hovering eagerly; he looked fresh and full of energy in a way that made Edward feel old and exhausted. “What is it, Tamra?” Edward asked wearily.
“We’ll get him, Pa,” she shouted. “Me and Ramon. No one deserts my flight. No one!”
“Leave him, Tamra. He’s dead to us now,” Edward said. “Get up there and kill the traitor Grand. You’re our only hope.”
But Tamra’s fury with Declan overrode everything. “This is my flight,” she said. “And I decide what to do with it. I’m getting Declan.” With that, Tamra and Ramon peeled away from Flight Vengeance, and Edward watched his favorite daughter head off on her own personal mission of vengeance. As he watched the lively Blue rapidly disappear into the night, Edward leaned forward and placed his arms around Decimus’s neck. He could feel his Lock’s muscles straining to pull air down to his aching lungs. “Take it easy, Decimus,” he murmured. “Take your time. We’ve got plenty of it. We’re not done yet.”
Tamra and Ramon flew fast in pursuit of Declan, and it did not take long before they were in firestik range. Declan, his mind still buzzing with the enormity of what he had done, was unaware of being followed. Ramon was a highly efficient flyer. He was not only fast but almost silent: No energy was wasted in telltale creaking of wings, or noisy breaths. As they drew closer, Tamra eyed up her unsuspecting target and with a grim smile she steadied her right arm, took aim, and threw. The firestik flew swiftly through the darkness, a red arc in the sky, and found its target.
Timoleon’s tail exploded into flames.
Declan, shocked out of his thoughts, wheeled around and saw disaster facing him and his Lock. “Tim, Tim!” he shouted as the smell of burning dragon flesh filled his nose and Timoleon let out a great roar of agony.
Tamra screamed in horror. The moment the firestik left her hand she had regretted it. But it was too late, and now Declan’s Lock was on fire, falling into his death dive, taking Declan with him.
“Declan, Declan, I didn’t mean it!” Tamra yelled, and set Ramon diving down after her brother. Fast and fearless, Ramon dropped like a stone, and soon he was side by side with Timoleon, tumbling down with him, as the flames worked their way along the tail, consuming all in their path.
“Declan!” Tamra yelled. “We’ll get underneath and you jump down. Got that?”
Declan shot Tamra a look of utter loathing. Any doubts he might have had about leaving his family were gone. His vile, murderous sister had killed his Lock, his dearest Tim, a gentle creature temperamentally unsuited to be a Raptor, the only creature in the world whom Declan had been able to truly love. His eyes blurred with tears, Declan glanced back and saw that Timoleon’s wings were on fire. He looked up into the dragon’s eyes and saw they were clouded and dull. His own true Tim was gone.
“Jump, Declan! Jump!” came Tamra’s shout from below.
“Farrelara me soll, sa nar Mifra a te,” Declan murmured: Farewell, my soul friend; may the spirit of the air be with you always. And then he swung himself out of the rider’s dip, and as Tamra and Ramon glided beneath him, Declan looked down at the canopy of trees hundreds of feet below, gulped at the thought of the dizzying drop, and let himself fall.
Declan landed on Ramon’s shoulders, just in front of his wings. He slithered down into the rider’s dip just behind Tamra, and with tears streaming, he watched the ball of flames that had once been his Lock spiraling slowly down toward the darkness of the Forest. Then he leaned forward and spoke to Tamra with cold fury. “You fly away from here. Right now. You’re killing no one else tonight, Tamra. And if you try, I’ll kill you first. I swear it. Understand?”
The hatred in her brother’s voice sent cold shivers through Tamra. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I understand.” Slowly, reluctantly, Tamra flew Ramon away.
In the distance, Edward watched the departure of Tamra and Declan with disbelief. What was going on with his children? He’d given his daughter her first flight, allowed her to name it, and now she had shot down his eldest son in mid-battle and was taking him away. It was a double desertion of his two best children. Edward’s opinion of his offspring was unclouded by any paternal sentimentality: He knew he was now left with the dross. But they would have to do. “Kaan, Mirra,” he called out. “The family honor lies with you!”
Kaan pretended not to hear—he didn’t like the sound of that at all. But Valkea heard well enough. And with the burn on her neck subsiding into a bearable pain, she began to make her plans.
Herlenna had found it impossible to leave her friends. She had retired some distance away, and was hovering in the shadows of the treetops, watching the battle with fear in her heart. As the sky above lit up with firebursts and battle roars, Herlenna had done her best to send calming thoughts to Bellacrux and Lysander. It was not much, but it was all she could do. And now Herlenna was watching in horror as what had once been Timoleon was slowly falling through the sky, spiraling down in a ball of flame.
“Farrelara me soll, sa nar Mifra a te,” she whispered as she forced herself to watch and bear witness to Timoleon’s death dive. The death of any dragon, Raptor or no, was a great sadness to a sensitive Green like Herlenna.
A sudden scrabbling from the increasingly bored hat
chling distracted Herlenna. She turned around to quiet it and as she fussed, trying to get it to lie back in the rider’s dip, she felt a sudden fierce heat above. Herlenna shot out of the way, but she was a moment too late. The charred bones of Timoleon’s tail caught in her torn wing, there was a snap like a pistol shot, and suddenly her wing was hanging down, useless. Herlenna screamed.
Far above, Lysander heard it. Without a second thought, he put his nose toward the ground, folded his wings back, and launched into a dive, hurtling to the rescue. “Lysander!” Joss yelled, clinging on to his Lock’s neck. “What are you doing?”
With the rush of the wind in his ears, Joss caught just one word of Lysander’s reply: Herlenna.
It felt to Joss that the plunge went on forever. The treetops seemed to be rushing upward to meet him, and he began to fear that Lysander was out of control. But just as the trees were so close that Joss was sure he could have counted each and every leaf, Lysander dropped his wings down, lifted his nose, and at last Joss felt the uplift of air beneath them. As he caught his breath in relief, there was a violent crashing of breaking branches and a burst of fire rose up from below. Timoleon had reached his final destination—a bed of ashes on the forest floor.
In the light of the fire, they now saw Herlenna, one wing hanging limp, coasting toward a small clearing in the forest. Lysander drew alongside her, offering support, but Herlenna’s only thought was to keep the hatchling safe from the imminent crash landing.
“Praya. Picola tirra-te,” Herlenna told Lysander in dragonsong. I pray you, take the little one.
“Yarilla lo,” Lysander replied. Of course I will.
Using all her energy, Herlenna gave a sudden twist and dislodged the fidgety hatchling. It went flying through the air, squeaking in panic, its little stubby wings frantically flapping, slowing the creature down just enough for Lysander to grab it gently in his mouth. He turned his head to give the struggling infant to Joss, but as Joss reached out to grab the slippery little creature, it flipped its tail, leapt from his grasp, and shot up into the air. Lysander, forced to choose between helping Herlenna or the hatchling, chose the hatchling. He cruised in beneath it and waited. At the awesome sight of the sleek silver dragon below, the hatchling promptly forgot how to fly. It went into a sudden shrieking nosedive; Lysander caught it neatly in his right wing and rolled the wriggling creature down to Joss. Joss reached out, grabbed a leg and lost it, grabbed the other leg, and at last hauled the prickly, protesting infant onto his lap. Then he carefully folded in its wings and wrapped his arm around its sharp little claws.
With the hatchling finally safe, the last of Herlenna’s strength suddenly left her. She keeled over to one side, and with a crashing and cracking of branches, she disappeared through the canopy of trees like a drowning swimmer beneath the waves. Lysander and Joss heard a deep thud, and then all was silent.
Lysander and Joss looked down at the great gash in the forest and saw to their horror that Herlenna had landed on Timoleon’s pyre. The flames flared up and they heard the crackling as the fire took hold. A heavy feeling of sadness came over them both—two dragons were lost and gone forever. Joss hugged the hatchling tight and whispered, “We’ll take care of you, little one.” Slowly, Lysander flew away from the glow, heading back up to join Bellacrux, bearing bad news and a new life.
The remains of Flight Vengeance were flying slowly away, but Valkea hung back, reluctant to leave. The sight of the traitorous Grand serene in her victory was too much for the ambitious young Red to bear. She decided to take a last shot at Bellacrux.
As Lysander slowly ascended, Joss too was watching the magnificent silhouette of Bellacrux flying across the moon. He thought of his sister riding high with her Lock and he smiled. Against all the odds, they had defeated the Lennixes, and now they had a bright future ahead, with the prospect of freedom and safety in the legendary Lost Lands. And then he saw Valkea: flying like an arrow, sharp and straight, heading up toward Bellacrux, straight for her underbelly. And blissfully unaware, Bellacrux and Allie were flying serenely on.
“Allie! Watch out!” Joss yelled, his voice carrying up through the still night air. Allie looked down and saw Valkea almost immediately below. Bellacrux, she sent. Go right. Bellacrux wheeled away just in time and, outmaneuvered, Valkea went shooting up past them, and as she went past, Allie heard Kaan’s screams. She watched Valkea halt some distance above and hover while she decided on her next move.
This time, Allie, thought, things were different. This time she was the one with the firepower. Allie was surprised to find she actually welcomed the chance to fight. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for battle. She took a firestik from Declan’s holster—which she had slung over her back—and carefully took aim at the white underbelly above. But throwing a firestik was not as easy as it looked, and it traveled wide and then, to Allie’s horror, began to drop back toward her and Bellacrux. Bellacrux was prepared. She wheeled quickly to one side and Allie watched the firestik arcing down toward the forest. A flash of silver below told her Lysander was on his way. Allie smiled. They would defeat Valkea together.
Stay steady, Allie, Bellacrux now sent. Valkea will be diving any minute now. Wait until she’s close. Don’t take your eyes off her for a moment. I’ll tell you when to throw.
Okay, Allie sent, and began to extricate another firestik. A flash of silver at her side told her that Joss and Lysander had arrived. It was now that Valkea took her chance; she launched into a daring dive, heading straight down, presenting the smallest area of target. Had it not been for Kaan’s screams, the dive would have been silent, so streamlined was Valkea. Determined not to miss a second time, Allie let go of her Lock’s neck crest so that she could hold her firestik steady in two hands and waited for the word from Bellacrux.
But suddenly Bellacrux, seeing the trajectory Valkea was taking, wheeled to the right, catching Allie unawares. Allie slipped from the rider’s dip, skidded down the rough scales of Bellacrux’s flanks, frantically scrabbling to catch a hold, and then, heart-stoppingly, there was nothing left to grab but the thin night air. Allie gave a short, sharp shriek. And fell.
“Allie!” screamed Joss, his stomach in his throat. Lysander launched into his dive and, closely followed by a horrified Bellacrux, Lysander swooped beneath Allie. She landed on his tail with a bump and then found herself sliding rapidly backward on the slippery, shiny scales. At the end of the tail the barb stopped her, and while Allie hung on with all her strength Lysander lifted his tail and Allie slid slowly down toward his back. Joss longed to help her, but he was trapped in the rider’s dip with the hatchling. He twisted around to see his sister gingerly crawling along the serrated ridges of Lysander’s spine, slipping and sliding as she went.
Immediately above them now was Bellacrux, who was hovering, shielding them from Valkea with her open wings. However, Bellacrux was also presenting an easy target. At the very moment Allie dropped into the rider’s dip behind Joss and the hatchling, Valkea came roaring in. But Bellacrux was ready. She sent a long stream of fire straight for Valkea’s burned neck. Bellacrux knew that targeting an injury in this way was playing dirty, but she no longer cared. Bellacrux knew very well that Valkea would not hesitate to do the same. Roaring with rage at her own weakness and at being thwarted yet again, Valkea wheeled away and climbed to gain a little height, taking care to keep well out of firebreath range. And there she waited for the agonizing burning in her neck to become bearable once more.
With Valkea gone, the two remaining Lennix Raptors—Trixtan and Decimus—moved into position. Trixtan hovered uncertainly a safe distance above Bellacrux, waiting for Mirra to decide what to do. Mirra, however, had no idea what to do. She glanced up to her father for guidance. He was circling some distance above on Decimus, and all Mirra could see was Decimus’s muscled white belly and the soles of her father’s red boots.
Suddenly, Edward delivered the longed-for guidance. He leaned over and yelled down, “Get out of my way, idiot girl!” But
the wind took his words away.
“What?” Mirra shouted back. “What did you say?”
Edward was exasperated. Why didn’t his stupid daughter move, for dragon’s sake? What was she doing, sitting in the way of the target? Was she a total idiot? Edward swore loudly but Mirra heard nothing. She was looking down at the small silver dragon below and had just noticed it had two kids and a hatchling on it. Laden and slow, it was a perfect target, but even so, Mirra was scared to go for it. What would her mother say if she injured the precious Silver? And so Mirra dithered, and far above her, Edward and Decimus seethed.
But there was no dithering for Allie. Deciding that Trixtan made the perfect target, Allie pulled two firestix from her holster. She handed one to Joss—who took it with glee—and pointed upward at Trixtan’s skinny white underbelly. And then together they took aim and threw upward at the target. To Allie’s amazement, both firestix found their mark. One hit the trident tattoo full on and bounced off, but the other lodged between the segments, and at once flames began to pour from the fat beneath Trixtan’s leathery skin. With a great bellow of pain, the Raptor shot upward, but seconds later, as the fire began to burrow deep into the dragon’s belly, Trixtan came down again, falling past Lysander, flames streaming out behind him. As he plummeted by, Allie and Joss saw Mirra huddled in the riders’ dip, her mouth open wide in a silent scream.
Far above, Edward Lennix sighed—his family was utterly useless. He was tempted to let Mirra reap the results of her stupidity but the thought of what D’Mara would say stopped him. Reluctantly he and Decimus went into a dive and hurtled down after Trixtan.