By Fairy Means or Foul: A Starfig Investigations Novel(60)

I glared, steam rising from my nose. I wasn’t going to flit here and there. I wasn’t.

“You will if you want to try flying. I’m telling you, your wings aren’t designed otherwise.”

I growled.

“Stop being a baby.”

Fine. I sulked, and didn’t flutter them.

“Come on, big guy, time’s a wasting.” Quinn stood on tiptoe to pat my chest.

Grumbling all the way, I flicked my wings a few times, testing them out. It actually felt pretty good, but I’d never admit it to Quinn.

“You know I can hear your thoughts, right?” Quinn said. “I can’t block you in your dragon form. I think it’s because we’re supposed to communicate, so our magics don’t cancel themselves out.”

Naturally.

Before he could urge me again, I fluttered my wings, letting them pick up speed. It felt oddly natural, though I couldn’t imagine how it would feel once my feet left the ground. Beating them even harder, I felt the pull of the sky. My dragon wanted to be airborne. I bounced in place, trying to get my wings to cooperate.

When I suddenly shot into the air, I wasn’t prepared. I careened and slammed into some savage yew trees, toppling them. Not so savage now. Whoops. My tail lashed out as I flailed and I almost took Quinn’s head off. Good thing he was quick on his feet and dropped back to the ground.

I did too, and the resounding thud was probably heard all the way to Lighthelm. I fell to my side, legs thrashing. Dammit.

“Don’t get discouraged, Twig! You were airborne. It’s just going to take practice. We still have all day. And worst case scenario, we walk.”

He was lucky he was my wizard or I would have barbequed him on the spot.

“Hey—”

Well, I would have.

“If you don’t want me here—”

I want you here. Just shut up and let me think. I struggled to my feet. After a moment, I moved back into the clearing and tried again.

Up I went. It might have been okay, but the moment I tried to move forward, I shot to the side and almost banged into another set of trees. I flapped harder and jetted in the other direction, catapulting backward, slamming to the ground.

“Oh, wow.” Quinn came running, placed his hands on the side of my cheek. “That was amazing.”

I snapped my teeth at him.

“No, listen. You flew backward. Backward. No other dragon can do that. That’s so . . . cool.” He laughed and the sound was joyous and unburdened. For a moment I imagined him as a kid. He must have been so much trouble.

“I was not.”

I raised a horned eyebrow.

“Not much.” He smiled. “Once you get the hang of this, you are going to be the scourge of the skies. You know that, right?”

If they don’t laugh themselves silly first.

“If it gives us an advantage, I’ll take it.”

Us?

“Yeah, us. You think I’m not a laughingstock? Believe me, you’ll be in good company.”

I swiveled my head so I could better see Quinn. He was the furthest thing from a laughingstock. He was brave and strong and . . . mine.

His smile was soft. “Thank you. You really know how to make me feel good.”

I did my best to shrug. Just speaking the truth.

Without warning he slapped my nose. “Come on, the day’s not getting any younger. I know you can do this. Show me what you got.”

He asked for it.





21





“Whoooo!” Quinn laughed as I swooped through a cloud. “Man, that was cold.”

I didn’t answer, but he could feel my satisfaction. I loved stretching my wings. It took me all afternoon yesterday, but I finally managed to get a handle on flying. I flew in a zigzag pattern, flitting from one place to another. It probably looked hilarious, but it worked. We were airborne.

Quinn, surprisingly, took to riding on my back like he was born to it. After the flying carpet ride, I was pretty certain he wouldn’t like it much. I was so wrong.

“This is awesome!” He laughed again and I realized how rare it was for him to belly laugh. I suppose in Brandsome’s household he had little reason to laugh. I planned to change that. I’d buy out his contract. I’d need to visit my main hoard to get enough gold, but at least I had it. Or perhaps I could play a game of cards for Quinn’s contract? Either way, I planned to free him from Brandsome once we returned to Lighthelm.

We flew in spurts. My wings weren’t used to the workout flying gave them, so we’d fly a bit and then I’d land and walk for a short while before launching myself back into the air. Quinn didn’t seem to mind, his thoughts giddy each time we’d go up. He could do this all day.

We left Hammershore before the sun even came up. Krofom was nice enough to pack some loaf-of-bread-sized biscuits and star-raspberry jam for our breakfast. We flew for a couple hours before landing to eat. Flying obviously took a lot of energy because I was ravenous. I managed to polish off my biscuit and part of Quinn’s, too.

I’d practiced shifting between forms, and the transformation, while still uncomfortable, wasn’t agonizing like the first time. Each time my body seemed to handle it better. And it didn’t take quite as much out of me. Which was good, because we still had a ways to go.