Outcasts of Aquila (Aquila's Originals 2)

Chapter 21: Nightfall, Part 1

BRIGHT LIGHT. WATER. Thick, slimy. It clung to Rhiddyl's scales, filled her nose and throat, burning inside her. The tentacles wrapped tight, binding her in an inescapable cocoon. It dragged her under the surface, through the water, under the lake, into the darkness. She tried to fight, she tried to flee, she tried, she tried, she tried...

Power sparked, answering her desperation. It crackled through the water with a buzz and a snap.

"Ow!"

Rhiddyl opened her eyes. A dark shape loomed over her and she scrabbled backwards, tripping over the soft, lumpy ground until suddenly it wasn't there anymore.

She fell on the floor with a squawk and a puff of bright pink feathers.

"I told you to leave her alone," a familiar voice said from behind her, sounding amused. A careful hand cupped one side of Rhiddyl's aching body, balancing it carefully against a sturdy hook on the other side. "There now, you're all right," Jaymes crooned, tucking Rhiddyl into the crook of his arm as he sat down in a rocking chair beside the fire. "Did the silly silvery man scare you awake?"

Across the room, Silveo was pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes screwed shut in obvious discomfort. "Ow, ow, ow," he chanted softly. "I felt that in my teeth."

"Never startle a sleeping storm dragon," Emberbright chided him, sitting up on her hindquarters and wagging a golden claw. "Serves you right."

Jaymes huffed with amusement and stroked a soothing hand over Rhiddyl's ruffled feathers. She was not a storm dragon, she was kin Tempestfury Clan Skystorm, not some lesser elemental creature. There was a difference.

"I've never seen a chicken dream before," Jaymes said, rocking back and forth. "But I know a nightmare when I see one. Poor Rhiddyl, I don't suppose you feel like shifting into a more conversational shape so we can talk about it?"

Fluffing out her feathers, Rhiddyl tilted her head to look up at the man who held her. Fiery haired, pale skinned and marvellously freckled, Jaymes blue eyes held nothing but sympathy. She didn't know how she'd managed to wash up on this far-distant shore in the perfect place to find him, especially after she'd searched for months from the sky with no result, but she was grateful. If anyone at Aquila could understand the difficulties of dragon magic, it was this man.

So, despite the comfort of his hold and the soothing rock of the chair, Rhiddyl stretched her silly chicken body and hopped onto the floor.

Emberbright stopped lecturing Silveo and the human opened his eyes, until everyone was watching. Feeling self-conscious, Rhiddyl hunched into her wings and turned her back on the room. The fire crackled bright and merry, washing her in waves of warmth and she waddled closer, still chilled from the lake.

The memory of the water made her shiver and the power stirred by her dream flared eagerly back to life. It filled her up, snapping and crackling through her bones and Rhiddyl sank into it. Light sparked and heat buzzed over her body, flattening feathers into skin, stretching muscles and bones, pulling her apart as if she was made of raw clay.

Flexing her fingers, she rolled her head on her neck and straightened up, shaking off the last tingles of power as she settled into her new form. Soft silk settled against her and she looked down, frowning. It had been months since she'd last formed a robe instead of her uniform after a change. She was obviously still more shaken than she'd thought.

Tying her sash tightly, she admired the way the firelight brought out the pinks and pale blues of the lilac silk as she turned to face the rest of the room. She fiddled nervously with her feathery hair and darted quick glances at Jaymes and Silveo, waiting for someone to speak.

Emberbright broke the silence with a soft coo, slinking across the small room to pat Rhiddyl's robe with a wondering hand. "Pretty."

The tension knotting Rhiddyl's shoulders relaxed and she met Jaymes' smile with a tentative one of her own.

A polite cough drew her attention Silveo's way and he held up a teapot invitingly. "Welcome to our home, Rhiddyl. Care for some tea?"

* * *

THE COLD SAT inside Orla's bones, gnawing at her joints and making everything ache. Although that might have been from where Nightriver had smacked her across the back of the knees with his tail, or where she'd hit the heavy water, or even where the dragon had grabbed her and Zett before throwing them onto his back.

It didn't matter what had caused it, she was cold, wet and sore and in no mood to listen to everyone else argue.

"We need to head back to the citadel," Healer Morri insisted. "There's something wrong."

"There's been something wrong for months," Caelo said mulishly. "Good of you to finally notice."

"It wasn't his choice to sleep so long," Healer Haelle snapped, rising to Morri's defence as always. "It's obvious he and Nightriver were deliberately targeted."

"Which makes it all the more important that I get back up there," Morri said. "The sooner Nightriver and I sort this out, the better."

"Not before everyone's dry," Taryn argued. "And some food wouldn't go amiss. None of us will be any use if we stumble back to the citadel like something a pyrefly coughed up."

"She's right." Haelle switched sides, now that Morri didn't need defending. "It's a long, cold walk. Being wet won't make it any easier."

"Stay here and get dry then," Morri said. "Nightriver and I can go on ahead. We -"

A cacophony of complaints rose up against this and Orla stopped listening, hugging herself and leaning closer to the fire. Zett shivered alongside her and they traded miserable grimaces.

"I wouldn't mind something to eat," Vhen grumbled on Zett's far side, having chosen to sit out the arguing for once. He chewed on a dry biscuit with little sign of enjoyment. "I think these have been here almost as long as the rocks."

"Then it seems I have arrived just in time."

The arguers fell silent and Orla craned awkwardly around to look at the compact figure standing at the top of the slope leading into the cavern. Well wrapped up against the cold, it was impossible to see who it was, but the voice, the stance and the small cart proclaimed her identity to all.

"Destevan, at last!" Healer Haelle limped across the uneven ground. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten me."

"Forgotten, no," the Ihran said, pointing an imperious hand towards Vhen and beckoning him over with a sharp gesture. "Merely delayed. There is much work to be done in the forge. First year practice swords do not make themselves and the third years need to be prepared. Still, it was my turn to visit you, so here I am. Careful with that, boy, although perhaps it is no longer needed? Your charges are at last awake, I see."

Leaving Vhen to manoeuvre the handcart down the steep slope, Destevan marched forward, patting Haelle on the arm in passing - which was a huge show of affection from the cantankerous woman - as she strode over to Morri and looked him sharply up and down.

"Well."

Healer Morri looked back. Slender and small by most standards, he still topped the Ihran by a head, although she was twice his width. He smiled. "Thank you for taking care of Haelle while I was gone."

Destevan sniffed. "Someone had to. What of you? Are you back now?"

"Aye, back and ready to resume my duties," he agreed genially.

"Good." She nodded and turned to where Taryn stood beside Orla and Zett. "You three. Don't just sit there. Go. Fetch the food, hand it round. Time to eat, then we go back. We don't have all night."

Rolling her eyes at her friends, Orla creaked to her aching feet and stumbled after the others. Fire was good, but food would be better, and the sooner they returned to the citadel the happier they all would be.