Freedom's Fall

by DJ Michaels

They weren’t as exposed as Rye felt. The blue soldiers were used to the flights coming at them fast and high, so it was unlikely anyone would be looking down. Even if they were spotted, the soldiers would have to ask for and receive permission to break formation. At the speed the dragons were traveling, that permission would come too late to pose a threat.

  They flew low and fast, but it seemed to take a long time to get to the enemy line. Rye’s group was just ahead of the leading edge of the main formation, and when the blue soldiers came into view they didn’t have eyes for anything but the three-hundred-odd dragons coming straight at them.

  Skimming even lower, the small squad slipped behind blue solider lines. They continued to fly at speed, five shadows racing under the amassed Brightstar army. As soon as the trailing edge came into view, the dragons back-winged on a prearranged signal.

  Pulling up fast enough to throw their Enforcers hard against their saddle restraints, the dragons shaved off speed in a bone-jarring lurch. Rye folded his upper body, lowering his chest so he could cling to Zenbaylan’s neck as she dropped through the leafy canopy and found a tree trunk strong enough to take her weight. She clung, her claws scraping deep gouges into the wood as she tucked her wings tight against her back. The foliage was thick enough to hide all five dragons and their riders, so they settled as best they could and waited.

  The Brightstar army was organized and hierarchical, and in that they were similar to the Enforcers. But unlike the Enforcers, the blue soldiers with power and authority liked to advertise who and where they were. Sergeant Edrick, for example, wasn’t high enough in the chain of command to be on a gunship, but he was entitled to his own oversized skiff, stamped on the side with his name and rank.

  The moment that particular transport flew overhead, the dragons would burst from the treetops and come up below and behind the soon-to-be-dead sergeant. All they had to do was wait for him to come to them.

  When Zenbaylan lurched from the trees and sent herself skyward prematurely, Rye scanned the area, looking for the attack that was no doubt coming. But there was nothing to see.

  Tansy’s in trouble. Zenbaylan sent out her message on a band wide enough for the other four dragons to hear, and none of them moved a muscle as she headed back to the den. She didn’t ask for permission to leave or check that the others could cover her absence. She just left, and Rye had never in his life been so glad for dragon arrogance.

  Zenbaylan’s declaration sent his mind spinning into all kinds of panicked scenarios. Do you know what’s happening? he asked.

  Willersby Lockmehdyhn is in our den with four armed guards. I’ve told her we’re coming. She’s promised to stay in the den until we get there.

  Rye frowned. This was where dragon arrogance took a turn for the worse. A creature as ruthless and militant as Zenbaylan had no concept of powerlessness or the terrifying fragility of a human woman. It wasn’t a matter of whether Tansy wanted to survive until they got there—it was a matter of whether she could.

  Fear coated Rye’s skin in a metallic sweat and he crouched low in the saddle, mentally urging Zenbaylan forward even though she was flying at her maximum speed. Gloved hands clenched tight on his saddle, Rye tried to settle himself enough to begin strategizing.

  Have you told Fellescend what’s going on? he asked Zenbaylan.

  Yes. We’ve decided he will stay in the battle until I have assessed our pet’s situation. Fellescend is ready to come if I need him.

  Has he told Dev? Even as Rye posed the question he was pretty sure what the answer would be.

  No. Dev is busy at the moment and can’t afford the distraction. You and I will do for now.

  Rye winced. Dev would explode when he found out the dragons had left him out of the loop and, unfortunately, Fellescend and Zenbaylan wouldn’t give a fuck. The blacks thought they ruled the den and everyone in it, especially their riders.

  It was the longest flight of Rye’s life, skimming the treetops at a reckless speed while hoping the soldiers fighting above him were too busy to look down. A single dragon was easy pickings, and now the battle was raging no blue soldier would bother to ask permission to go hunting. Rye had his bow drawn and ready, the explosive head of the arrow resting against his thigh and his quiver of spares close to hand. Scanning the skies, his whole life slowed down to the next beats—his heart fast and thready, and Zenbaylan’s wings smooth and strong.

  Fighting against Willersby’s rough grip, Tansy opened her eyes to see the edge of the landing coming closer and closer. The smooth floor offered no purchase for her bare feet, and her silk-clad body slid along the marble floor as if by design. The floor disappeared before her eyes, the sky looming larger and larger until her vision was nothing but a sea of blue. And then Willersby turned her on her stomach and shoved her head and shoulders over the edge.

  Nothing but sheer red rock for hundreds and hundreds of meters down. The striations of blue, green, yellow and pink formed a kaleidoscope that pushed Tansy from panic to abject terror. She had no breath to scream, so she fought, writhing and twisting against Willersby as though she were some wild animal caught in a trap. Someone was yelling but she couldn’t make out the words against the roaring surge of her panic rebounding through her body.

  Then she was flipped over, one guard pinning her legs, one on either arm, and Willersby standing above her, clothes askew and breathing hard. “Do you want to go over the ledge? Are you so determined to push me?”

  Tansy was beside herself, so wound up in fear and anger that she just opened her mouth without any thought as to what might come out. “I don’t give a flying fuck. Hold me over the edge—drop me for all I care—because I will never, never submit to you.” Her breath heaved in and out, her lungs burning with rage. “I’d rather fucking die than have your hands on me again.”

  Willersby lifted a perfectly polished boot and placed it on her sternum. Hard. “Fortunately, I’m the one who decides if you live or die. I own you, and my needs and desires are the only ones that count.” Stepping back, he motioned to his men. “Get her up.”

  They dragged Tansy to her feet, and she wasn’t quite upright when Willersby grabbed her by the front of her tunic and muscled her backward. She felt the rough edge of the landing under her bare heels and she knew she was only centimeters from going over the side. Willersby stepped on her toes to keep her feet in place and then he levered her backward, pushing her upper body out over the sheer drop and forcing her to rely on him to keep her safe.

  Closing her eyes, she sent to Zenbaylan. How close are you?

  We’re nearly there. Just hold on

  “Let’s start again, shall we?” Willersby asked, pulling her out of the link. “Who owns you?”

  Tansy thought about it for a moment, then decided to give the cold-hearted bastard the truth. “Devonelle Sharmanchere and Ryderich Myrinmahr own me, now and always.”

  Willersby’s face went an interesting shade of red and he pushed her a little farther out. “Wrong answer, whore. Who owns you?”

  “Not you. I’d be embarrassed to be owned by a pencil-dicked gnome with no skills beyond being an asshole.”

  Something dark came over Willersby’s face, and in that split second Tansy knew she’d made a fatal mistake. The cold, calculating intelligence that always lurked in Willersby’s eyes was gone, and in its place burned a black rage that blocked out everything but the need to punish.

  Hauling her close so they were nose to nose, Willersby whispered against her lips, “Then we are done.” And with that he shoved her hard enough to topple her off the landing and into the air.

  Tansy’s whole world stopped. No sound, no feeling, no thoughts, no nothing—just an empty, breathless void where there was nothing but her imminent death.

  Then the world rushed back as she fell, screaming her rage and frustration at the world.

  She felt something lash around her wrist. She jerked upright, and her terminal velocity started to slow. Her shoulder burned under the strain, but when she looke
d up to see Oskaal flying hard above her, his tail wrapped around her wrist, she was so relieved she felt nothing but joy.

  She was too heavy for the dragonet to carry, but he slowed her fall, flying close enough to the wall of the den that Tansy could start to scramble for foot- and hand-holds. The cliff face was rough, shaped by the elements, and she was covered in dirt and a hundred tiny scratches before she finally found purchase. It took her several attempts, but she eventually found a foot-hold deep enough to secure her weight. Once she was as settled as she could be, Oskaal flew in behind her, dug his claws into the wall on either side of her and pressed himself against her back to give her additional support.

  He rubbed his cheek against hers, chirping softly to reassure her.

  We’re almost to you, pet. Can you hold on? Zenbaylan’s voice washed through Tansy’s mind, cool and clear.

  Yes. She’d survived a drop off the side of a cliff. She’d be damned if she was going to be done in by muscle fatigue and shock. Zenbaylan?

  Yes, pet?

  You might want to hurry.

  I’m going as fast as I can. You need to hold on for us.

  So she did. She ignored the pain and the fear and the mess that was her adrenal system. She didn’t look down and she refused to acknowledge the hot trickles of blood she could feel slithering down her arms and legs. She gritted her teeth against the cramps in her hands and feet. And she clung, waiting, trusting Zenbaylan and Rye to get to her in time.

  Heart in his mouth, Rye tried to control the panic as Zenbaylan flew him beyond the battle zone. His sense of urgency didn’t abate as they made their way under the reserve flights. Then there was nothing but sky above them and it seemed a long, long time before the den came into view.

  Zenbaylan had been giving him sporadic updates, so he knew what to expect as they came closer, but when he saw his tiny mate clinging unprotected to the sheer heights of the den wall, his racing heart jerked to a painful halt. Then it tried to crawl up his throat.

  Zenbaylan didn’t reduce her speed as they rocketed toward the cliff face. She pulled up at the last moment and they hit the wall with enough impact to jolt every bone in Rye’s body. He grunted as he slammed into his dragon and held himself still as Zenbaylan slid, scrabbled and clawed her way to a precarious halt. Small rocks and stones rained down on them in cloud of red dust, and Rye coughed and choked as he jerked his helmet from his head.

  They’d come to a rest a little below Tansy, and she clung to the wall, wide-eyed and terrified, a full wing-length away from him. Rye tried to keep his voice calm, but he really wasn’t up to the challenge. “How badly are you hurt?” The words came out in a panicked shout.

  “Just bruises and stuff,” she replied, her voice no steadier than his.

  “How bad is the ‘and stuff’? I have to know if there are any breaks or strains.”

  And that was when she started to cry, slow, fat tears that streaked wet and muddy on her dirty, precious face. Her lip quivered and he could see it was taking everything she had to hold it together. Oskaal still braced her, and he chirruped, rubbing his face against hers and smearing her cheeks even more.

  Their position was dangerous for Tansy and far too exposed for all of them. Rye knew he had to wrap this up quickly but he couldn’t afford to add to her injuries. “Is anything broken?”

  She shook her head. That would have to do.

  “Zenbaylan and I are going to fly underneath you. When we’re in position, I’m going to tell you to let go.”

  Her eyes grew wild and they darted around as if another solution might present itself out of thin air. Rye wished he could accommodate her. “I’m sorry, honey, truly I am. If there was another way I’d do it for you, but we’re short on time and options.” He didn’t know if Willersby was still around, but if he came back in his transport with armed guards, Rye and Zenbaylan would be nothing but target practice.

  “I’m relying on you to trust me, Tansy. I’m counting on you to help me do what needs to be done.” He looked into those terrified brown eyes and steeled himself. “And I’m not fucking asking. You let go when I tell you—no choice.”

  Let’s go.

  The moment he gave the command, Zenbaylan pushed off the cliff, arcing out into the air and circling up and under Tansy. Hovering as close as she could to the cliff, Zenbaylan gave her commands to Oskaal and the dragonet released his hold on the cliff, wrapped his tail around Tansy’s waist and began pumping his wings.

  Rye put the snap of a whip into his tone. “Now, Tansy. Let go.” She hesitated, and Rye didn’t know whether to cry or scream. “Come on, Tansy. You have to do it now.”

  With a sobbing cry, she released her hold, and Oskaal worked his wings hard, straining against her weight to guide her farther away from the cliff. Zenbaylan didn’t take her eyes off him, and she rose slowly, meeting him in the air, nudging him with her head, guiding him to slide down her neck until a shaking and terrorized Tansy landed safely in Rye’s lap. He held her tight—too tight, considering he was still wearing all his body armor—and wrapped as much of himself as he could around her shaking body.

  “It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

  Zenbaylan side-slipped from the cliff and flew in a large, slow circle until she gained enough altitude to aim for home. Oskaal hovered in the doorway of the landing, having been sent ahead to make sure everything was secure, and he darted out of the way as they came in to land.

  They settled gently, Zenbaylan folding her wings tight to her back, but Rye stayed where he was, strapped onto his dragon with his mate safe and tight in his arms. His sustained fear and subsequent relief had locked all the joints in his body, his heart wasn’t working properly and he still couldn’t draw a full breath. Tansy’s tremors had stilled and, for now, that was enough.

  Tansy knew she was in shock, but she was too numb to care. She’d used up everything in her to survive the last few hours, and now there was nothing left but an empty shell. She was safe, wrapped tight in Rye’s arms, and she didn’t even have enough interest to be relieved.

  She stayed in the comforting fog as Rye unbuckled himself and Zenbaylan used a careful claw to lower them to the ground. Rye scooped her up into his arms and Tansy curled against him, closing her eyes, the cadence of his steps a distant muffle. Moments later he set her down on a cold, hard seat, and Tansy opened her eyes to the colorful expanse of the bathroom.

  Rye left her for long enough to start the bath and strip off his armor. Then he was back, easing her out of her tunic and pants, checking every inch of skin as he exposed it. When his thorough inspection was completed, he wrapped her in a towel and held her close as he waited for the bath to fill.

  “Are you ready to talk?” Rye’s voice rumbled smooth and soft, washing over her skin and easing down into her soul. She still shook her head at his invitation.

  “All right, there’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere.”

  A fact for which Tansy was endlessly grateful.

  Chapter Nineteen

  In tactics typical of the Brightstar army, the battle finished as swiftly as it began. Between one engagement and the next, the blue soldier numbers diminished until there was no one but rear-guard stragglers to fight. Dev was about to start his post-battle assessment of flight strengths, positions and injuries when Denaleth and her rider flew up beside him.

  “I’m relieving you,” Shay said.

  Dev’s first thought was that Jax wanted him. “Why? What’s going on?”

  “Ask him.” Shay nodded to Fellescend.

  Dev fought a surge of annoyance. He had better things to do than pander to his dragon’s unpredictable sensibilities. Fellescend?

  The flights can manage without us now. We need to get back home.

  Fellescend rolled up and over before heading back to the den, but the maneuver had nothing to do with the fear that unfurled inside Dev. What’s happening in our den?

  Nothing now.

  Dev could hear the evasion in his
dragon’s voice and it set his teeth on edge. Full disclosure, right now, or I swear I will pluck every scale from your conniving body.

  You’ll only get angry if I tell you now. It’s much better if we wait until I’m back in the lair.

  Better for the black, no doubt. I’m not fucking around, Fellescend. Out with it.

  Dev was treated to a long-suffering dragon sigh. My pet is safe now. Zenbaylan is taking care of her.

  Dev’s body sizzled with a mix of fear, dread and anxiety. Give me the fast version, from the beginning.

  Willersby Lockmehdyhn and four guards came to the lair and tried to steal our pet. Zenbaylan flew to her aid and now they are waiting for us to come home.

  Rage surged through Dev, so hot and dark that his vision actually blacked out. My mate was in danger and you and Zenbaylan didn’t see fit to tell me?

  The flights required your presence during the battle, and Zenbaylan didn’t need our help.

  The fury built, turned red, and Dev slammed his gauntleted fists into Fellescend’s impervious scales. It doesn’t matter if they needed our help or not. Another blow, even harder. Not the fucking point.

  Fellescend’s shock was bright and clear in the link. You struck me.

  A situation that had never occurred in the entire time they’d been together. If Dev hadn’t been so angry, he would have been shocked too. You deserved it. And if you ever do anything like this to me again, if you ever keep anything about Tansy’s welfare from me, I’ll gut you while you sleep.

  You are my rider, you would never injure me.

  Why not? You hurt me.

  There was a long pause, and when Fellescend finally spoke his voice was quiet. I don’t understand.

  The black was genuinely confused, and the link between them was too old and complex for Dev to hold his rage. This was his opportunity to teach Fellescend something, to show him how the dynamics in their new relationships were going to work.

  Dev took a deep breath, did his best to settle his temper, and tried to explain his feelings in dragon terms. I belong to you, right?