I am Dragon (Dragon Fires Rising Book 2) by Marc Secchia (famous ebook reader TXT) 📕

Decent storm, he gasped.

It’s boiling up nicely, Chalice agreed. Still ten miles off, but closing in fast. We need to shift tail, Dragon.

Aye. Slipstream me.

Thunderstorms could reach heights of over ten miles, Dragon knew from measurements taken from these very slopes. Another moment with his nose buried too deep in a scroll. No overflying anything like this. As they panted along and finally hit the top, he realised just how skewed his perspective had been. Monster!

“Wow!” Azania exclaimed.

“Spectacular even without my spectacles,” Dragon agreed. “Come on, let’s fly!”

Yardi said, “Azania, are his jokes always this bad?”

“No, they are wonderful,” she said. “Truly magnificent exemplars of intellectual prowess and mental agility.”

“One speculation is that you’ll be walking from here on out,” he clarified.

Yardi burst out laughing. “Figures.”

“Does indeed. So?”

“Wonderful sense of humour – cough, cough,” she replied.

“Cheeky. Drop you off halfway, shall I?”

Tilting onto the downslope now, he and Chalice picked up speed – which was just as well, because the wind began to gust directly into their muzzles. They charged together down a long V-shaped valley which must offer wonderful views of the lowlands beyond to those equipped to enjoy them. He saw a blur of green beneath a grey-black wall. The upper clouds turned crimson as Ignis eclipsed Taramis, but the red giant was in turn partially eclipsed by two moons. That lent the storm a malignant cast that made his new scales prickle urgently.

Careful as we go over the edge here, Chalice cautioned as they approached the end of the valley. It’s a drop like few others, and known for the vicious wind shear. Gain some height.

He followed her caution. Two hundred feet clearance as they hit the end. Sheer cliff! No wonder this was no viable route for foot traffic, for the drop off the far end was prodigious, perhaps exceeding seven thousand feet in several giant steps.

The yellow Dragoness cried out as the storm winds buffeted them sideways.

Dragon sideslipped with her, trying to control his speed and descent, to shadow her until she could regain control. Chalice wobbled as she righted herself. They swept outward in a fast descent, driving away from the immediate danger but further into the storm. Pockets of air caused them to wobble violently again, dropping tens of feet before suddenly pummelling them upwards. Dragon rode the roughness as best he could, but he felt every one of his riders’ cries as they were hammered mercilessly side to side, up and down.

Krack! His head twisted in shock. One of the leather belts on his back had snapped, slewing Yardi sideways. Azania grabbed her by the boot, but the larger woman’s weight combined with the gale-force wind was too much. Her fingers tore away. With a cry, the armourer slid out onto his wing surface.

Chalice whipped beneath him, clearly aiming for the catch, but a violent downdraught sent her tumbling; it collapsed his wing, too, but he barrel rolled with the wind’s punch to come in above Yardi – not where he intended, however. Hind paw snatch! He scragged her in the region of her extremely well-padded rear end, given how well they had covered up for the extreme altitude, and juggle-bundled her into his other rear paw before everything unravelled and he lost her again.

Tipping, struggling and jerking about, he righted himself. Now it was his turn to chase Chalice’s tail for a change, after she had been chasing his for the last hour.

“Yardi?” he called.

“Alive!” Aye, and as pasty as a poorly cooked Human pie. Good enough.

The storm winds finally eased as they continued to lose altitude, but now the rain sluiced down until Dragon could barely see ten feet ahead. The Dragoness led them lower and then a short ways along the cliffs to the west, until suddenly they flew in beneath an overhang and the rain stopped as if a door had been slammed shut.

Azania said, “Phew. Tell this desert girl again what’s to like about torrential rain?”

“Or storms?” the quivering bundle in his hind paw moaned.

“Or miles-high cliffs?” Inzashu put in.

“You silly children, that was amazing!” Yarimda crowed, throwing back her hood and shaking water out of her hair. “Decent flying, Dragon. What an adventure. Is that a cavern over there? Let’s land, please. This old lady needs to water a bush – too much excitement for the old bladder, I’m afraid.”

“Too much information,” Azania murmured.

Since Dragons usually landed on their hind paws first, he passed Yardi up to his forepaws before landing deftly on the rocky forecourt of the desired cave.

Chalice was already sniffing it out. “Wolf cubs. Let’s pick another further along.”

Everyone needed a rest after that short but entertaining episode. Dragon decided that when he wrote his memoirs, he would call this section ‘up and down the mountain.’ Was that not all there was to it?

* * * *

“It is plain that the rain in Amboraine gives great cause to complain,” Yarimda rehearsed with Azania and Inzashu, stressing the vowel glides of the Northern dialect.

“It is plain this rain does not fall down the drain, but onto my brain,” Inzashu quipped.

“If I may explain,” Chalice snorted, cracking one eye open.

Dragon sniffed loudly, “Puns are such a pain. Please refrain.”

“Don’t strain,” Azania said. “Look, I don’t think this weather is going to give up anytime soon. What say you we fly on to Amboraine and get dry there?”

“Dragons don’t melt in the rain.”

His Princess said, “It’s only twenty-seven miles from here. I want to check Aria’s tide schedule, but I’m worried about smudging the ink, what with everything being wet around here. No dry firewood either.” She pouted, “I want my silken sheets, a fragrant hot bath, fresh incense, girly clothes, a decent meal, a chance to primp my hair