Ride the Wave

19

“You have somewhere else you need to be?”

I scowled at him, then took a few steps back to give myself space, and returned to my dragon form. The others would be up soon, but for now we were alone out here. He nodded as if confirming his suspicions. “Like I thought, your size is going to make it harder for you to fly. You’ll need to practice with your wings every day to build up their strength.”

I groaned, though it came out more like a growl. My voice was different as a dragon. Deeper. Louder. More gravely.

“But the real thing holding you back is your own magic,” Doran continued. “Along with your own self-doubt.”

Now I really did growl at him, though he ignored it and kept talking.

“What I want you to do is try to let go of your earth magic. I know it’s a part of you but try to block it out however you can.”

How did he expect me to do that? The moment the Earth God came to me, I became a different person. No longer a simple blacksmith living in a small town, but someone destined for bigger things. Even when I wondered if he should have chosen another, or missed my old life, or tried to guard my heart from Kira, I’d never wavered in my faith. The magic was a fundamental part of me and had become as natural as breathing.

I felt the earth through my clawed feet, which dug at the dirt. The only time I didn’t feel the earth’s presence was when I was flying on one of the other dragons’ backs, or when we were on a wretched boat. Even on a boat I’d managed to connect with the wood and the metal, but soaring high in the sky—it was hard for me to feel comfortable with that. Like a part of me was cut off.

Maybe that was the problem. I tried to focus on that uncomfortable feeling now. I pictured riding on the back of Auric or Jasin as they soared across the sky, and how empty and adrift I felt. I hated it, but when I tried to take off this time, my feet left the ground.

I didn’t get far. My wings flapped rapidly to hold me up, but I knew they wouldn’t last long.

From below, Doran called out, “Nice work! Try to hold it as long as you can.”

I hovered above him for a few more seconds, before hitting the ground in a thump, sending a cloud of dirt into the air around us.

Doran coughed and waved it away. “Good. Now I want you to do that every day. Preferably multiple times.”

I groaned and set my head down, already tired from that short flight—and from dealing with Doran.

He walked away while I rested there, enjoying the sun on my back and the dirt under my scales. As the sky grew brighter, I heard footsteps approach. Kira. I raised my head and met her eyes before looking away quickly, ashamed she had to see me like this. I was a failed dragon who could hover for a few seconds at best. She deserved better.

“I never got the chance to see you as a dragon,” she said, as she approached. Her arms wrapped around my head, embracing me. “You’re beautiful.”

I let out a grunt, but nudged my head up against her chest, enjoying her touch. The bond between us, which I hadn’t noticed before except when we’d had s*x, suddenly took over my mind. I sensed how happy she was to see me like this and felt her belief in me. My own doubts slowly fell away. I couldn’t fly now, but I would keep practicing every spare moment I could—for Kira.

14

Kira

W

e reached the coast that evening, just north of the border between the Earth Realm and the Water Realm. Doran showed Reven and Slade how to turn saltwater into water we could drink, while Auric and Jasin rested after flying the entire day with few breaks. I took a walk down the shore, my toes digging into the wet sand for the first time in years, while lazy waves stretched closer and closer to my feet. The moon was bright overhead, making the surface of the water shimmer, and I bent to pick up a shell that almost seemed to glow.

“Kira,” a voice whispered across the salty breeze.

I jerked upright and spun around, the shell clutched in my palm. My grandmother Enva stood ankle-deep in the water, yet when the tide pulled back, she showed no signs it had ever touched her. She strode toward me, her gray skirts completely dry, her white hair shining under the moonlight like a pearl. She’d once been called the White Dragon, and though she’d been dead for centuries, she was trapped between this world and the next along with every other person who had passed. But unlike the others, her connection to the Spirit Goddess allowed her to hold onto enough life to manifest in front of me for a short time.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help while you were being held captive,” she said, as she drew near. “The bone cage prevented me from visiting you.”

“I assumed as much,” I said, relieved to see her again. “Why does the bone block our powers?”

“Your magic stems from life, and bones are objects of death. They’re abhorrent to us, completely opposite of our very nature.”

I frowned as I examined the shell in my palm. “But I’ve killed many animals and even people before. I’ve been around many dead bodies. It wasn’t until I touched Tash’s bones that I encountered that horrible feeling.”

“Ah, because there’s a difference between killing to preserve life, and killing only to end it. When you hunt animals for food for yourself or others, you’re sustaining life. When you’ve killed people, it was to defend yourself or protect other lives. All of those things are part of the natural cycle of survival. But when someone is murdered, their bones become tainted with darkness.”