The tall Vertigonian made it past the dragon’s frantically beating wings and lunged for her, cudgel flashing. Not knowing what else to do, Tamri used the silver rope to haul herself onto the dragon’s back and out of his reach. The scarlet feathers on its wings and shoulders were shockingly smooth and difficult to hold. Only the Watermight cord kept her from falling.
She started to slide forward onto the dragon’s arching neck and gave the rope a sharp tug to catch herself. At that, the dragon’s muscles bunched beneath her, and it gave an indignant roar. Then it launched into the air like a startled pigeon.
For the first few wingbeats, Tamri wasn’t sure if she or the dragon was more surprised. We’re flying! She hadn’t thought it could take off with its weighted-down belly. She clung to the Watermight rope for dear life, welding the icy magic directly to her bones, and gripped the dragon’s broad scales with her bare feet. Powerful muscles surged beneath her, and the wind whipped her hair into her eyes.
The ground dropped away fast. The muddy island with the walled manor shrank below her, the surrounding canals and swampy landmasses coming into view. A figure in a blue coat waved his glowing cudgel at her as more men rushed toward the bridge. Could that cudgel hurl Fire magic at her?
Panicking at the thought, Tamri kicked her heels into the dragon’s sides the way she’d seen Trurens do on their fine horses.
It was the wrong choice. The dragon let out a snarl and shot higher into the sky, its wings nearly knocking her from her precarious seat. Only her ice-hard grip on the Watermight cord kept her from plunging to her death in the canal below. She felt as if her stomach were trailing them by several feet, her heart beating as hard as the dragon’s wings. The dragon unleashed a furious roar, loud enough to rattle Tamri’s eardrums.
Terror was quickly replacing her surprise of moments ago. She was going to fall. She was going to die.
She thought her situation couldn’t get any worse—and then the dragon flipped upside down. It barrel-rolled through the sky, over and over, Tamri’s whole body flying free like a banner in the wind.
She screamed almost as loud as the dragon. “Put me down!”
The dragon tossed its red-crested head angrily, as if to say, “That’s exactly what I’m trying to do.”
They came right side up again. Tamri thudded hard onto the dragon’s back, jarring her teeth. Her whole body was stiff with terror, but her hands were still welded to the silver rope. The dragon gave her an irate glance over its shoulder, seeming to rein in its fear enough to assess the situation. Then it folded its wings and plunged downward.
“Not so fast!” Tamri shouted.
The dragon dove faster.
The city flashed beneath her. Canals. Mud. Barges. People with dirty feet and shocked faces. Colored flags in the wind. Houses nestled on little islands or perched atop rickety stilts. Squalor and chaos.
The ground got nearer fast. Light shimmered on the canals. Tamri glimpsed her terrified face reflected on the water, surrounded by a red blur. They crossed onto another island crammed with stilt houses. They were too close. We’re going to crash!
At the last possible instant, the dragon’s wings flared wide, and it came to a jolting halt atop a sloped roof.
Tamri flung herself off the dragon’s back, and her feet slid on the shingles. Too terrified to think straight, she spun the end of the Watermight cord away from her hands and chained the dragon to the roof. She lurched away from the creature, struggling to regain her balance, and only skidded to a halt when she reached the edge of the sloping roof. She teetered dangerously for a moment. It was a long drop to the canal below.
Behind her, the dragon tried to pull loose, squawking in anger and frustration, but the bond of silvery power held firm. Used to slinging Watermight with desperate speed, Tamri hadn’t registered that it would have been smarter to let the dragon go.
Too late now. She was trapped on the roof of a stilt house with the biggest—and angriest—flying lizard she had ever seen.
2
Tamri took refuge behind a grimy brick chimney and tried to get her bearings. Yellow flags decorated the nearby stilt houses, indicating she was in the Boundary District. The houses were bigger and farther apart than down near the Gulf, where she lived. She couldn’t even smell the sea from here, just the fetid aroma of the slow-moving canal.
She breathed deeply, trying to calm her racing pulse. She should never have agreed to this job. Pel had grander ambitions than Tamri, figuring a big-enough score could set him up as a Waterlord in his own right. She usually only snatched up enough Watermight to keep her and Gramma Teall eating for another few days. She was all her grandmother had, and she couldn’t afford to get killed on some harebrained job.
She peeked around the chimney at the dragon, whose belly still bulged with Watermight. The portion Pel had promised her would be enough to keep her and Gramma Teall in fish and bread for months if she found the right buyer. But the entire reservoir within the creature’s belly? With that much Watermight, Tamri could take her grandmother far away from this stinking swamp of a city and never have to fight for scraps of magic again. And it was perched on the rooftop, within her grasp.
The dragon reared up on its hind legs, tugging at the shimmering cord of Watermight, its feathered wings brushing the slate shingles. The roof shuddered under its weight.
Tamri didn’t have a lot of time. Hesitation meant death around here, and she couldn’t pass up this opportunity. Tamri might not have Pel’s lofty ambitions, but she would do anything to make a better life for Gramma Teall.
Before she could lose her nerve, Tamri emerged from behind the chimney and scrambled toward the dragon. The creature cocked its head, looking decidedly birdlike thanks to a crest of red feathers on its head.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen, I swear.”
The dragon gave an indignant squawk. Tamri crawled closer, fighting the instinct to run as far and as fast as she could. At least it wouldn’t breathe fire at her—if Pel had gotten that part right.
“I didn’t know you could take off like that. I thought you needed to jump off something. Please don’t eat me.”
The dragon ruffled its feathers angrily, not interested in her excuses.
Clutching the shingles with her bare toes to keep her balance, Tamri stretched her hand toward the dragon. “I just want the Watermight. Come on now.”
She pulled on the magic in the creature’s distended belly, using the innate sense that came with her ability to Wield. A thin stream of silvery-white liquid flowed from the dragon’s mouth toward Tamri’s outstretched hand. The Watermight glimmered as it curled through the air, lighter than water yet somehow more solid. The liquid stream connected with her palm and began to seep into her skin, making her shiver.
She usually soaked up any power she came across as quickly as possible before another gutter kid like her could snatch it away. She had learned the fierce and dirty art of whipping the substance into her body after too many nights spent starving because someone else got to it first. But she tried to go slowly this time, not sure how the dragon would react.
The Watermight flooded her veins, colder than the waters of the Black Gulf in winter. As it sank deeper into her body, it turned icy, coating her bones, making her feel strong. Her fear of the dragon muted to a dull throb, even though it was close enough for her to smell its cold, meaty breath.