A Dragon's Retribution [Book 3 in Rising Dragons]

Chapter 7: Thirak III

I watched as a bunch of dragons took off, circling higher and higher before I lost sight of them. They were going hunting. Turning my head, I refocussed my gaze on one of the nearby trees. It was one of the taller ones, with branches cluttered near the base and getting sparser the higher up it went. Despite the height of the tree, it was quite thin. I doubted any dragons bothered landing in the branches or that any hatchlings had tried to climb the tree. It wouldn't hold their weight, and hatchlings – with all their gangly, ever-growing limbs – would lack the fine motor control needed to climb.

It was easy to grab one of the low-hanging branches and then use it to put my feet on another low branch. One of the hardest parts of climbing a tree was actually getting into the tree. Having managed that, I turned my focus to actually climbing. Once I fell into a pattern, it became easy to climb. It was simple – one hand, then the second hand, pull myself upwards, get one foot onto the branch, and then pull my other leg up.

However, as I got to the point where I was roughly seven or so metres off the ground, it got much harder as the branches got further apart from one another. The higher I got, the tougher it became, and at some points, I was depending on only my upper body strength to pull myself to the next branch.

Eventually, I reached a fork in the trunk that was comfortable enough to rest in. I leant back against the tree trunk, eyes closed and head tilted up. I slowed my breathing down, hearing my heart slowing down. My mind seemed to fade away, and – once again – I could feel my own ener- magic. It felt like fire, all warm and crackling, tinged with danger. It expanded, settling into my bones, and the soreness faded from my muscles as magic slid through them.

The others had probably found prey now and were hunting it, following it from the air. It was futile to wish that I could be with them, but I wished it was so anyway. I missed being able to fly, missed the wind in my face, missing the knowledge that if I did anything it was because I wanted to, not because someone else wanted me too. The wind was easy to imagine. I could almost feel it.

It rushed past my face, screaming in my ears. It was cold and sharp, but it was safe. It never wanted to hurt me. It was what it was – it was owned by no one. All around me, the leaves shook, rustling among themselves.

My eyes snapped open, and I realised there was really a wind blowing into my face! I looked around, seeing a nearby tree and noticing that the leaves were being pushed in the other direction. And then, as quickly as it had come, the wind vanished. I slumped over, suddenly discerning how tired I was. Swallowing, I wondered if anyone had seen what had just happened, because I knew what that wind had really been.

Magic.

***

The storm had finally come. We had all known it was coming. The wind had strengthened and the dark clouds overhead gave plenty of warning. I watched, sitting near the entrance of the cave, just far enough to avoid getting wet by the fat raindrops that slammed against the ground.

"Thirak," Alexis said, hurrying towards me with an anxious expression. "Have you seen Iro?"

I shook my head; I hadn't seen the hatchling for a few hours. "Is she missing?" I asked with a frown, because staying out in a storm was a foolish thing, and this storm threatened to get worse before it got lighter.

"Yes," Alexis hissed, eyes scanning the rest of the cavern, searching for the young hatchling. "I'm worried she tried to fly and the wind took her. I told them all this morning that they may be able to fly soon or at least start attempting to."

"Does Pamphilos know?"

Alexis nodded in a short, jerky motion. "He's gathering our strongest fliers to go searching. Some dragons from other dragoons are also coming."