It might have been the heartbreak she was feeling at having left Panterra Qu, who had risked his life for her, had come to save her when no one else could, and whom she had now abandoned, choosing instead to go to her people.
It might have been the joy that flooded through her as she flew astride the dragon, soaring into the blue, becoming one with clouds and mist and distant places that maybe no one else would ever see, free and filled with wonder and a deep, abiding sense of pleasure.
Or it might simply have been the wind, whipping past her face, chilly and raw and stinging.
But she wouldn’t have traded her blurry, damp eyes and discomfort for anything in those moments. She had never felt anything like this—never even imagined it was possible. In truth, though driven to ride the dragon, though convinced she could, she had doubted herself. Dragons, after all, did not exist. Riding a dragon was a dream. But now she was living that dream, doing the impossible, and the exhilaration she was experiencing was overwhelming.
Her discomfort and tears did not last. Even after only a short time, she felt as if she had been doing this all her life. The dragon’s huge body undulated as it flew, and soon she was anticipating its rhythm. She began to feel comfortable with the steady motion.
Her hands explored the huge scales just in front of where she sat, her fingers tracing their rough surfaces. They felt like flat stones, but they were warm to the touch. She could hear them creaking as they rubbed against one another. Her perch began to feel safe and secure, and the fears she’d had at the beginning that she might lose her balance and fall disappeared.
North, the first shadings of twilight crept into the heights of the mountains that ringed her valley home, spilling over the rocky cliff edges to begin their downward slide toward the foothills and the mouth of Aphalion Pass. She could neither see nor hear the battle being fought there, but she knew from the vision shown her by the Elfstones that its outcome hung in the balance. She urged the dragon on by force of will, the pressure of her legs against its scaly neck, and judicious use of the Elfstone magic that directed her toward her destination. Torn between emotions, riddled with guilt and need, she knew one thing and one thing only.
She had to reach the Elves in time to save them.
She had to fulfill the task she had set herself so that all she had gone through and all she had risked would mean something.
The dragon flew on, his efforts swift and steady, and the mountains began to come
into sharper focus. Phryne worried that the beast would lose interest in chasing after the Elfstone magic, and to prevent that from happening she shifted the blue light just enough to make sure she was keeping his attention. Once or twice, she even maneuvered the light close enough for the long tongue to lick out and touch it. Maybe that helped, or maybe the dragon just liked the idea of the pursuit. Whatever the case, he showed no signs of becoming distracted. Nothing else seemed to be competing for his attention. He was content just to sail along, tracking what amounted to little more than colored air.
Still, she reminded herself, it was Elven magic; it would have properties of its own, ones that Phryne could neither see nor understand, yet perhaps the dragon could.
She thought of Panterra often, remembering the night she had given herself to him.
Why had she done that? It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, made when her emotional pain demanded that comfort of some sort be found. It was difficult to explain.
She didn’t love him. Or maybe she did love him, in her own way; certainly he was in love with her. But what was the point? Even if she had wanted something more with him, she couldn’t have it. Everything prevented it: from her father’s murder and Isoeld’s treachery to the invading Drouj and their efforts to overcome the Elven defenses to the possibility that she might soon become Queen of the Elves. And Pan’s own situation was no less difficult. Pursued by a demon, saddled with the responsibilities of a black staff bearer, searching once again for Prue, and trying to help keep Glensk Wood and its people safe from the Drouj—it all stood in the way of anything that either Pan or she might wish would happen.
She felt herself growing tired, the energy and excitement she had felt earlier sapped by time’s passage and her emotional and physical exhaustion. She wondered how long she had been flying. She wondered how much farther she had to go.
Once, she found herself falling asleep, rocked by the motion of the dragon’s body, lulled into a dangerous drowsiness, and she jerked awake just in time to keep from sliding off the dragon’s neck. It scared her enough that she vowed angrily she wouldn’t allow it to happen again.
Ahead, the sun was dropping toward the horizon, and its rays were bathing the slopes of the mountains and the rippled surface of the foothills in shimmering gold.