Inara flashed the man a confident smile before glancing at the Drakes trailing Athis. “If we succeed in the coming days, Vangarth will have no reprisals to fear from the likes of Alijah Galfrey and his knights.”
“Then I pray the gods bless you,” Governor Harlan offered.
Kassian watched Inara stumble over her response before finally saying, “And you, Governor. And thank you for sending so many supplies - your generosity will not be forgotten.”
The Keeper joined Inara as the pair fell in beside Adan’Karth and the hundreds of Drakes. Seeing them all together, heading to their deaths as far as any human was concerned, Kassian felt sick, just as he had when Laga’Thak had cast him out of their extraordinary network. As far as he was concerned, the future came at a cost: seven-hundred and thirteen lives.
41
Cast Out of the Heavens
It had been nearly a decade since Gideon or Ilargo had seen Ayda, the dawning country. Having crossed over its shores in the dead of night, they were now presented with a vista of colour in the sunrise. After two days of naught but ocean waves in every direction, it was pleasing to take in the land and its variety. That variety, however, gradually faded the further inland they journeyed. It soon became an inhospitable realm of sand and rocks: a harsh place to live.
As the morning went on, Gideon periodically checked on Galanör and Aenwyn over his shoulder. Both had slept most of their journey away, finding little stimulation in the new environment. For Galanör, an elf of five hundred years, his time in Ayda’s southern lands might have been brief but, for Gideon, it was a significant turning point in his life.
I still remember it like it was yesterday, he said to Ilargo. I remember crossing over The Opal Coast while hanging on to Malliath for dear life.
Ilargo briefly turned his head to lay an eye on his companion. For all his evil deeds, I am thankful for Malliath. He did bring us together, after all.
Gideon rubbed Ilargo’s scales but held his next words back, his attention snatched away. The old master narrowed his eyes and looked to the distance. Despite the hazy line of the horizon, there was no missing the enormous blotch of green against the surrounding desert.
The Great Maw, he uttered.
Aptly named, Ilargo remarked. That jungle is filled with all the predators who could not survive outside of it.
There was only one predator in there that concerned me, Gideon replied, his memories threatening to recall all he had seen of the dreaded and savage Darkakin.
Ilargo made for the jungle, his mighty wings keeping them clear of the violent habitat beneath. It wasn’t long before the ruins of Malaysai came into view, though many of its buildings and temples had been consumed by the encroaching jungle.
“Is that what I think it is?” Galanör called from behind.
Gideon turned to see the elven ranger. “Welcome back to Malaysai!”
Keeping to a south-easterly heading, Ilargo continued to fly over the dilapidated city. It wouldn’t be many more years before there was nothing left visible to the eye but the pyramid in its centre. The Great Maw was never satiated.
Without the usual warning, Gideon felt his stomach rise as Ilargo descended. Ilargo? What are you doing? We need to be higher if we’re to clear the city.
There came no reply from the dragon.
Again, the old master felt the sudden drop in altitude and Malaysai came ever closer. Galanör questioned their flight path but Gideon ignored him as he adjusted his position to better see Ilargo’s face. His companion appeared dazed, drowsy almost. At first, Gideon feared he had flown for too long and needed rest, but he would have sensed such a thing long before now.
All the while, Malaysai was rising up to meet them, and fast.
Ilargo? he called again. Ilargo!
“Gideon!” Galanör shouted, his voice panicked. “What’s happening?”
“Brace yourselves!” Gideon yelled back. Come on, Ilargo, he called across their bond. Hear my voice. Come back to me!
There was a faint presence in Gideon’s mind, just a hint of his companion. Though brief, he could feel the weakness spreading throughout Ilargo’s body and even his mind. His magic was fading.
With the wind pummelling them, the trio held on to Ilargo wherever they could and prepared for the roughest of landings. His wings continued to glide over the city, but he had dropped so low now that Gideon heard the tip of a wing scrape against one of the tallest spires. Yet the ground was still so far. At their current speed, Ilargo would slam into the remnants of a building or skid across one of the ruined streets and kill them all, himself included.
His mind racing, Gideon desperately searched the surrounding area for anything that might help them, regardless of how futile it might be. Besides the pyramid, there was only one other structure in all of Malaysai that drew the eye: the barbaric arena. It stood above the city on three rocky columns and was large enough to accommodate several dragons. It was the arena’s height, however, that gave Gideon a glimpse of hope.
“I have an idea!” he shouted back to the elves. “Hold on!”
Without delay, he scrambled further up Ilargo’s neck, thankful the dragon was only gliding. Well-accustomed to his companion’s body, Gideon positioned himself to the left of Ilargo’s head and slowly rose until he was upright and braced. He had no time to lose - his window of opportunity was quickly disappearing.
“Gideon!” Galanör bellowed. “What are you doing?”
The old master clenched his fists just once, flexing the fingers in preparation. Then he jumped. His leap was true, bringing him alongside Ilargo’s face. Before his momentum could take him any further, Gideon reached out and gripped one of the dragon’s largest horns, just above his eye. Using what was left of his momentum, he yanked outwards and slammed
