Wind Magic

by Nicolette Jinks

  “No.”

  “The female flies with whoever she wants?”

  “With whoever she can catch or catches her. It’s a game.”

  I wasn’t completely comfortable with the idea, I had to admit. However, it held a strong appeal to some taboo desire. Fitting the conservative, squeaky clean mold that I’d grown up with had given me a sense of pride, even as I’d raged against it. I asked, “This practice flight. Would it be going through the motions?”

  Druidan said, “You need to trigger the mating flight. This practice would be very real, but non-binding.” He folded his hands on the table in front of him. “These flights customarily span days or weeks, and you would be hard pressed to spend the entire day on the wing. You need the practical experience. Nest can demonstrate basic flight patterns. I will compete with Mordon.”

  I stiffened in surprise. One part of my brain aped nonsense at the thought of an older man flying me. Another part knew that if Druidan, who had seen all the tricks in the book and more, was the teacher then Mordon would benefit. That benefit could and would go far beyond this one flight. Any aerial combat would be influenced. I finished the kelp packet I’d been idly working on, set it aside.

  Mordon said, “Fera, if this makes you uncomfortable...”

  Druidan grunted, silencing Mordon’s objection with, “Let her think for herself. She understands.”

  Yes, I did. I pursed my lips at Druidan. “I expect you to teach him.”

  “Fera, I don’t need—”

  I turned to Mordon. “You may be a hotshot in the colony, but Nest and Caledon can best you. That is one too many. Druidan?”

  “I am at your service, milady.”

  I nodded, satisfied by his response. “Good. Denise, hang these to dry, then you can go do whatever you would like to do.”

  There was no ill humor from her as she set about to do what I’d asked. She was enthusiastic even. What could she have in mind after? A sneaking suspicion came to mind. She wanted to watch. For a minute, I thought about banning her from it, but it was hard to hide what was in full view in the sky. And the forbidden was often more enticing than the permitted.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The air was perfect for a flight, I reflected. I settled my shoes on top of a tree stump at the fringe of an orchard where trees were heavy with apples, pears, peaches, and cherries. Not ones to waste space, the drakes had shade-tolerant vegetables growing beneath the trees. Lettuces, strawberries, and basil stood together in neat patterns while cucumbers climbed tree trunks. Rhubarb was there as well, its leaves laid on the ground to compost and choke out weeds.

  The castle loomed overhead as Nest urged me off to the side and said, “You will shift now.”

  She startled me by taking off her clothes. After a moment, I did, too. Presently two stacks of clothes sat on the grass beside trailing strawberry shoots. Scales overtook skin, my muscles stretched, wings emerged. Soon I was in full dragon body, amusingly smaller than Nest. She told me, tersely, that the proper term for shape-shifting was body not form. Werewolves had a wolf-man form, but drakes had a human body and a dragon body. I needed to start using the right terms instead of the colloquial.

  Dragon bodies appeared to age far better than human bodies did. Nest was ink-blue with black marks about her eyes and down her spine. She was solidly built, yet feminine. Cracks in her talons were the only indication that she was beyond her prime. If I had been a stranger, I could not have known that she was old.

  “Take wing, ladies,” Druidan said through a thick dragon tongue.

  I didn’t take wing. Not when I was staring.

  Age showed with him in his size—nearly as large as an earth drake. His scales shone with golden highlights, his supple green hide peeked around his eyes and nostrils. It occurred to me that I didn’t know what element he was—a bronze color could indicate a few things.

  His neck slid towards me, his head low, scales lifting slightly. I caught a scent, an oil that was sweet smokey musk, that made my own scales tickle. Curious and spell-bound, I stayed put to see what would happen, to find out why he was so intriguing.

  When he stepped forward, he kept his body low to the ground, extending his nose towards mine. It was a powerful feeling to be tall, particularly since I was not used to the phenomenon in either body. I dipped my head slightly, breathing in his scent. Hickory smoke and molasses, I decided. A tongue tickled under my chin. Surprised, I jerked my head out of range.

  He blinked innocently, his scales rose. He shook, releasing a cloud of musk which settled around me. Mordon had not done this before, and I liked the warm, fuzzy feeling it was inducing. I tipped my head again.

  An angry shriek burst out beside me. The blue dragoness lunged for my throat with her dark eyes flashing. Batting my wings, I put distance between us and cleared her attack. She wasn’t chasing me, however. She had her chin extended to the bronze, and he was approaching her warily.

  Jealousy burned bright in my chest. I mimicked her assault, lunging at her with exposed fangs.

  She reared up on her back legs and struck. Her teeth latched in behind my skull and her front claws reached for my head.

  Shit.

  I grabbed her claws in my own and rolled with the intent to twist her neck until she had to let go. She rolled across the ground with me, but I was quicker. I burst free, faced her, and felt my scales lift in warning. She froze, exposing her fangs.

  The bronze stayed out of our tiff, simply observing us.

  The blue dragoness lowered her lips over her teeth. Intelligence returned to her eyes. Nest said, “The neck-hold is how they will catch you, or you will catch them. In flights, two females may compete if they both are after the males.” She snorted in Druidan’s direction. “Don’t let his charm get to your head too early.”

  With that, Agnes launched into the air. As I watched her, I felt compelled to follow after her. My wings opened, I gathered up my haunches, and hesitated when movement caught my eye.

  Mordon approached, not with the submissive crouch of the bronze, but with an upright confidence. His red body stood out against the greenery, all the more vivid in my dragon’s vision. Mordon wrapped his neck along mine, a stiff caress that instantly caused my scales to fall flat against my hide. His whole body pressed flush along my side.

  All at once, I felt a riot of nervous excitement disturb my stomach and send little jolts of dread down my spine. The ruckus of a loud party in the castle made me flinch, fearing that someone had already seen me, that I would have a large audience when I was sure to make some embarrassing mistakes. Mordon nuzzled my throat in an attempt to calm me again.

  I softened into him. Something flickered about my toes, drawing my attention. It was the brood-ring, darting her way around my claws until she finally settled in a nook of my smallest claw.

  The bronze approached again, bearing the underside of his chin for the both of us. Mordon touched his nose and licked his throat, then did the same to me. As the bronze neared, I stretched forward and licked his throat. Druidan slid in close, passing against Mordon on his way to my other side.

  I realized this must be how a friendly male was accepted in a flight. Druidan was Mordon’s superior—an Elder, a duelist—but he was honoring our bond by taking a subservient role. That was not to be taken lightly.

  Druidan extended a wing over me and halfway over Mordon as well, holding the three of us together. A warm flush ran through me. Something about this was making me feel very hazy, rather drunk. The bronze nibbled under my chin and jaw, stirring up an itch to fly. Amongst other things. A small, rational part of me was questioning this insanity. I shut it out.

  Druidan said in a whisper, “We will start off the day by having you fly Mordon.”

  A shiver ran through my body at the thought of what that meant.

  Druidan continued, “When you are ready, take him by the scruff like this.”

  When Druidan’s teeth closed in about my neck, I felt my heart quicken and stiffness spread t
hrough my wings. His jaws worked the spot as he continued, “Let yourself feel it. Feel the wind on your scales. Feel the fire in your belly. Work with yourself. Join with the wind. Join with your mate.”

  His words sent a tremble through my limbs. He nipped my, my legs became weak.

  “Rise, milady.”

  I tensed, hesitated again, then bolted into the clear air above. An instant later, I realized I was going to fall to the grass and biff it in front of the two males. My wings snapped in a wing beat, I bobbed upwards. My wings snapped again, brushing a tree limb. I went higher. A third wing beat secured my position above the trees and into the air where I caught a stiff breeze beneath my membranes.

  According to the violent disturbance of the air behind me, the males were following closely.

  I gained altitude, admiring the barns and houses as they became smaller with distance.

  Nest arrived, cutting the air beside me, her body dewy with a brush through the clouds.

  She said, “To mate you must be higher. We take advantage of a dive for the mating itself. If you separate too late, you will crash. A few practiced males will be able to mate on a lateral roll, but this is to be avoided if possible. Follow me.”

  I did. Nest took us high and showed me how to dive to the males below. We faked grabbing their necks, they gamely waited for us to finish our practice. Then Nest showed me how to turn sharply, to laterally twist. How to evade another dragon. Techniques to speed and slow. So many things at once, some I already knew, others fixed mistakes I hadn’t known I was making.

  “Now, go,” Nest said.

  She nipped Druidan, drawing him away to speak with him.

  Mordon flashed white teeth at me in a large grin. “Did you catch all of that?”

  “Maybe a small portion of it,” I admitted.

  “Come, relax with me,” he said.

  My body wasn’t achy or stiff right now, though I’d bet that it would be tomorrow, as soon as I woke up. The wind was nice for us, billowing up in the right angle to catch our wings so we could glide easily on the drift. I noticed, though, that I tended to beat my wings more than Mordon did, my flight more similar to a songbird than the eagle-like flight that the larger dragons had. It made me fast and nimble, but I wondered if Mordon could overtake me in raw speed over a straight line.

  Swooping back around, I dodged over his back then under his belly, and I tapped his chin with a flick of my tail on the way out. “Tag,” I said, and bolted over the calm swaying of wheat fields, the wind rushing up behind me.

  Mordon’s speed remained the same for a second, then he angled his wings and gained speed. I mimicked his motions, feeling every twitch of his muscles through the air, him cutting through the sky even while behind me was like me being right there with him. I could feel the way the air bent over his wings, the way it swirled around his tail, how he manipulated the form of his tail to behave more like a rudder.

  When he was about to nip my tail between his teeth, I flashed downwards towards the bobbing wheat, then swooped back upright, shooting over him as he followed me. I loved having him in the air with me. I could move my magic one way around him, then the next, a teasing, swaying motion that he scrambled to predict, but loved at the same time.

  It was this flight when I realized that while in the air, I had total and complete power over those around me. I could thicken the air at one point, soften it another, make the currents turn or stay straight, and those behind me would have to accommodate it. It was then that I knew what it meant to be in my element. And Mordon remained calm and let me experiment on him, let me drop him down, then swing him up.

  He moved with me, followed my lead, didn’t flinch a muscle when our wingtips came perilously close, he paid no heed to the few others in the air around us. Most chose to keep their distance. Those who didn’t were deterred by turbulent conditions. Though I only paid most of my attention to the immediate airspace, I was aware that a fair number of drakes had come out and were watching. It was like being in the center of the dance floor, and having those around you stop to stare.

  A dance. That’s what this was really like between us, one where contact was dangerous and one misstep could send you down to the ground, or worse, it could tear a wing or rattle your head. I saw the clumsy attempts at flirting in the air that some adolescents did, and I’d been around when Nest had bandaged up more than one hurt jaw or foot as a result of misjudging the air conditions or anticipating what their partner would do. It was about deciding who would take the lead, who would follow, and knowing what the two were planning to do together.

  Mordon and I had never talked about flying together, never laid out any guides or plans. But, for now it was me taking the lead, experimenting, learning how to read him and others, learning how I could adjust the wind to compensate for any stumbles. I let my claw graze by his wing when I passed around him next, and he shivered. Confident in how the air felt now, I fell behind him, then swept under him, turning upside-down to face him.

  He could smile, even as a dragon. “Feeling adventurous?”

  I didn’t think upside-down was quite that adventurous, it was a skill that took a while to acquire but it wasn’t particularly dangerous, but I caught his meaning when he raked his claw down my stomach, I realized how very tiny I was by comparison, and I felt how my armor bent beneath the talon.

  The same way he had made himself vulnerable to my whims, I had made myself open to his teeth and claws. Instead of feeling fear, I felt admiration and a searing jolt of excitement. Probably for the best, I felt my wing starting to seize, and I tucked them into my body to do a quick roll to sort myself out.

  I tried to calm a pounding heart, knowing with absolute certainty that it was time for the two of us to do what we’d come here to do.

  By the time my wings were straight again, I felt something cut through the air and suddenly, Mordon was knocked to the side.

  I brought myself up short, and saw him tumbling through the air with a fiery red dragon tearing at his wings. What struck me was how similar the two were—nearly identical coloration, the main difference being that the new dragon was built heavier and his jaw was far more square.

  Caledon.

  It had to be him.

  He must be a crazy wicked flier in order for him to have cut through my barrier so easily.

  Caledon’s eyes locked on mine. I knew instinctively what was behind those furious, violent eyes, and I knew that he had been far from pleased to see this practice flight happening without his knowledge.

  Mordon struggled to remain airborne, one wing kinked up at a joint and threatening to collapse against his ribs altogether. There were a few pressure points, I recalled, that caused the wings to seize but they were difficult to reach without a lucky strike. It would be a few minutes before Mordon’s muscles relaxed and his flight smoothed again.

  I smacked the air and flew as hard as I could. The air current I was on helped, but Caledon had larger wings. As he gained altitude, I realized he was going to gain speed by diving. The female’s advantage held only when she was the one who was higher. I darted down, to catch a low current which was streaming over the edge of a field.

  Caledon saw me putting distance between us. He dove.

  The wind chose that precise moment to drift out of connection with me. I felt as if I had lost my hearing after a loud noise, and that I was navigating my way through a dark room that I didn’t know. My speed slowed. My wings burned.

  Caledon loomed overhead, his shadow completely overtaking my body as his neck extended for mine. I felt his breath on my shoulders, creeping upwards towards the base of my skull.

  A claw snagged the base of my wing. My world spun out of control.

  I roared, a shrill keening noise that split my own eardrums, and was echoed by the twin throaty roars. The sky jammed into place as my chest hit the chest of someone else. I caught a glimpse of red tail as it flashed violently.

  Caledon had been knocked towards the ground, hard, and we�
�d been flying low. For a frantic second, he tried to right himself. His tail flailed, his wings pistoned against the air frantically.

  The next thing I saw was the explosion of a haystack as he ploughed through the top of the mound, then he was out of sight. I breathed a sigh, flinched at a flurry of movement. Caledon trying to get airborne.

  A bronze neck filled my vision, and I became aware that he held all four of my claws in his own. Somehow, Druidan had broken between Caledon and me, managed to throw Caledon off balance, and capture me in the process. Relief made me relax.

  Druidan breathed in my scent, rubbed his face against mine. Warmth spread through me, and appreciation. I tipped my head to the side, he tipped his, and I felt teeth scrape across the scruff of my neck. Delicious sensations flooded me at once, and the bronze took me into a lateral spin.

  I grasped him tighter, and thought nothing of it when his tail wrapped around mine, closing the distance between us. The spin was a whirling, dizzying, breath-taking experience. For a time, we moved as one in a gravity-defying whirl. All I smelled was him, all I felt was how he beat his wings so we worked in unison. His teeth sent sharp little thrills through me, driving me to something near madness.

  Our wings snapped against one another. His claws let go of mine, and we were instantly parted, our paths branching off from one another. My body hummed with cottony elation. I felt as if I were drifting through a dream world instead of flying through the air. A big, big part of me wanted to do it again.

  A flash of red brought me out of my contentment.

  The bronze straightened out. Druidan said, “Hurry. They’re taking him to the mead hall.”

  He had to have meant Mordon. I beat the wind, banking back towards the castle. Druidan stayed at my side, ready to interfere if any male approached.

  It wasn’t hard to find Mordon. A large male drake held him in a claw around the barrel of Mordon’s chest, and I paused, my disoriented brain trying to decide if the other drake was going to harm Mordon or help him. Drops of crimson hit the ground, stemming from a tear in his wing.