SkyFall (Taken on the Wing Book 2) (27 page)

When they cross the lake where Soar
caught the trout, Flay and Fury glide and shift with the crackle sound of
crunching cellophane. Their instant change increases Soar's unease as the
morning gets even further from anything he can control. The realization that
Cloud's illness needs more than a dip in the lake frustrates him. Fury
’
s flight feathers merge and turn from
brown to a deep, scaly gold. Flay
’
s change to gray-green and her
skin takes on a decidedly green hue. Her tail narrows and grows by half again
in length while Fury's only becomes thicker. Their speed doubles, making them
even harder to chase.

Cloud
’
s breath hitches, ragged and heavy, and
the new urgency of Fury
’
s flight tells Soar she
’
s in deep trouble. There was no time to
grasp anything more than disappointment at her magic manipulation of him and
now he could lose her. One minute a confession of seduction and lies and the
next weakening gasps for air.

A bolt of lightning staggers down a
kilometer ahead and sparks a rough glowing oval directly in their path. A few
seconds later another appears a few hundred yards beyond.

Fury drives on with Cloud and as Soar
fights to keep up, Flay blocks his path.

“
Stay back,
”
she
yells and he has to pull up short to avoid knocking her from the sky.
“
The next portal is mine. We can
’
t follow through Fury
’
s.
”

She stays in his path, forcing him up,
and with a crack of thunder the first portal collapses behind Fury. Cloud
disappears.

“
We
’
re next,
”
she
calls and takes off for the second portal. With more agility than a gryphon can
pull off, the green dragonkin flies up over him, her stomach to the sun.
“
Tuck your wings in.
”

Soar doesn
’
t question and he
’
s
bound from behind by her awesome strength and he couldn
’
t fight free if he tried. Flay
’
s arms bind his wings and her legs wrap
around his thighs. The pointy moulded breasts of her red armour dig in to the
base of his wings. She sized him up as a passenger, not a date.

Flay dives and with a cry that chills his
blood, they hit the portal.

Flay releases Soar as the electric boom
of the portal
’
s collapse behind them stops
battering his senses. The thick air stinks of acrid, cold campfire and tints
everything in a brown haze. As he gets his bearings and glides after Flay, he
orients himself between the light brown ceiling above and the darker ground
below.

“
There,
”
Flay
points and they descend through a massive chamber. A stoney bridge stretches
over a hundred meters across a steep sided mountain valley. Thick, dim air
obscures the far ends of the gaping cavern. Square buildings at either end of
the span cover the slopes beneath the semi-solid barrier that protects the city
from above.

He follows Flay
’
s arm to see Fury, Cloud in his arms, on
foot approaching a dwelling at one end of the bridge. The door opens revealing
a shifted dragonkin female outlined in the flames that fill her chamber.

Soar runs, unable to decide if flight or
feet will be faster. His attempts at each only hinder the other.

He
’
s
only a few steps from the door when Fury emerges alone. The heavy stone slams
shut.
As Fury steps aside two things
happen at once. The edges of the door fuse with the wall and Soar slams up
against a now unremarkable block of stone.

“
Cloud!
”

The futile thuds of his palms turn into
frantic scratching as he seeks the edges of the door.

“
Master Soar,
”
Fury places a palm on
Soar
’
s shoulder.
“
She is perfectly safe.
”

“
You
bastard,
”
Soar mutters as he steps back
hoping a broader view of the wall will give him a hint as to the location of
the opening.

“
Lady Tempest is dragonkin and completely
able to tolerate the heat.
”

“
Who, the woman who took my female?
”

“
No, Master Soar,
”
Fury straightens up in a
fair approximation of gryphon pride but on the big dragonkin the pose is no
more than an insulting display of arrogance.
“
Lady
Tempest is your dragonkin mate and I know this because I am her sire.
”

Soar
’
s feet tangle as he turns to Fury. He
doesn
’
t even try to stay up as he
falls back against the wall.

“
I named her Tempest and believed her dead
at her dame
’
s side. She is a Lady now,
since she has no dame.

“
This is a good day, Soar,
”
Fury continues as he walks to the bridge.
“
I have my daughter and Conflagration has
his sister. A very good day.
”

The sway of Fury
’
s axe and swagger of his tail irritate
Soar then his eyes fall to Cloud
’
s flight feathers, still in
his hand. God, it
’
s nonsense of course but
Fury's tangled mass of red hair is indistinguishable from Cloud's when she was
younger and her magic influenced him just like a dragonkin member of the Will.

Shit. The most dangerous being he
’
s ever run in to sired his mate.

This isn
’
t a good day at all.

“
My daughter was a virgin when she came to
you,
”
Fury states.

Soar says something insightful like
‘
uh.
’
If Talon hit him he can only
imagine what Cloud
’
s sire might have to say.

The pair sit on a couple of old
upholstered chairs outside Fury
’
s home, another door in the
stone wall like the one into which Cloud disappeared. Soar still can
’
t get his head around the name Tempest.

They are on the opposite side of the
bridge perhaps a hundred yards from where it connects with the rough street
paralleling this side of the canyon. On either side, rows and rows of similar
doors front upon stone roads that terrace one above the other. Only the bridge
connects both sides of Skyfall, the dragonkin city.

Few dragonkin move about considering the
size of the city. Some shuffle or walk but none hurry. All struggle with the
current of heavy depression that Soar witnessed in many neighbourhoods over the
years. The word slum succinctly describes Skyfall. The shabby, deserted stone
hovels hold a few slumped and beaten down dragonkin, nothing like the great and
powerful city he imagined. It only needs wrecks on flats and gangs of youth out
to ensure their law holds superior over all others.

Maybe this conversation with Fury would
be less strange if Con and Flay weren
’
t
present but then they don
’
t seem to listen. The human
formed pair, Con in jeans and Flay in a little green dress, embrace on a
loveseat. Her loose hair lends some softness to the sharp good looks Soar saw
back at the campsite. Flay dozes in Con
’
s
arms as he plays with her chin and strokes her cheeks with his lips.

“
They all are,
”
Fury continues.
“
She chose you and you didn
’
t stand a chance like poor Con here.
”

Con interrupts his caresses to give Fury
the finger.

“
Dragonkin females are like that.
Tempest's adornment? Just means you
’
ve
completed the gryphon ritual. Dragonkin males don
’
t waste their gold on a female.
”

Soar puffs his lips and exhales. He
thought the same thing as he tried to figure out how and why Cloud, or Lady
Tempest, became his. Her flight feathers rest across his legs and he smooths
them out but they
’
re soft and unruly and prefer
to curl up and tangle under his fingers and behave more like his unsettled
confusion.

Fury still wears his reds and adjusts
himself before reaching down past his chair for a bottle of whiskey. He breaks
the seal and passes it to Soar for a long pull before helping himself and
passing it to Con.

“
Portalling makes Flay sleepy,
”
Fury explains with a small amount of
disgust.

“
Makes
Con horny,
”
Con mumbles.

“
Being near your female makes any male
horny,
”
Fury laughs. Flay doesn
’
t stir and Con extends his middle finger
to his sire for a second time.
“
To think, Master Soar, Lady
Tempest was reared in Jasper under the nose of Aledaar
’
s own son.

“
Tempest won
’
t be in there for hours. Our
best healer cares for her,
”
Fury continues and waves
the bottle at the other end of the bridge before he passes the whiskey around
again. Soar needs his nerves soothed and the smooth liquid grants him enough
patience to wait without annoying anyone.
“
You must be a competent ranger
for a dragonkin female to choose you.
”

The burn keeps Soar from laughing.
Cloud's years in Memphis have made her the one who's competent.

“
You find the idea amusing?
”
Fury asks.
“
Then
you
’
ve never fought her in her
dragonkin form.
”

The hand holding the half-empty whiskey
bottle shifts from human to something Soar has never seen. Fury
’
s fingers thicken and lengthen as his
entire forearm takes on a deep gold hue. The nails become claws and leave
scratches in the glass as they lengthen. It
’
s unnerving to see Fury with one arm a
foot longer and twice as thick as the other. Gold scales the size of a man
’
s thumbnail overlap all the way up into
his armour. The scale tips curl under, some so long they turn up, just like
Cloud
’
s adornment.