A Dragoness for Winter's Storm by Marc Secchia

Author:Marc Secchia [Secchia, Marc]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-07-25T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11: Explosives

IT FLASHED THROUGH KEIR’S mind, as he spiralled about his axis in a dive that intersected Storm’s flight path, how General Ja’axu had taught them that every plan had its flaws. One skill lay in anticipating and mitigating flaws and risks. Another lay in staying alive when they arrived in the form of immense, highly peeved, fire-billowing Serpentine Dragons big enough to eat his house back in Royal Amarinthe for breakfast.

Keir did not want to be breakfast.

Nor did he want to become the toast served up with breakfast.

As a wall of yellow-orange flame hurtled toward them, he sensed Storm’s wings enfolding him as she rolled horizontally along her axis, causing her wings to wrap tightly around him and her own body. Heat gushed over them as they burst through the conflagration, trailing smoke and flames and stinking of burnt hair. Without a doubt, her quick thinking had just saved him from being fried up like flying bacon. They suffered a heavy but glancing blow against an unseen object, which he took for the Serpentine’s skull, before tumbling out into the open.

Mauve’s brilliance turned his world a shocking, almost-white shade of mauve.

A chuckle escaped his lips as a cunning set of paws flipped him about in the air. For a second, it was as if he wore wings. Then, he landed squarely in his saddle seat with a thump that brought a squeak to his lips and a furious watering to his eyes. Alright. That was like being kicked down below.

Keir alright? Storm inquired anxiously.

Aaaah – aye. Let’s just say, if we’re going to do that manoeuvre frequently, Keir’s going to need a bit more protection around the vitals.

Like nutcase? she asked, sending him a highly inappropriate mental picture.

Storm – Storm! he gasped. That’s so …

Iss too small nut shells?

It hurt to laugh, but Keir guffawed until fresh tears streamed down his cheeks. Ah, how right she was. He had to explain what was so funny about her expression as they arrowed toward the trailbreaker, but he kept presence of mind enough to signal critical danger and to make gestures clear enough that the vessel sped into a tight turn, its engines roaring and a huge white spray jetting from its stern.

He glanced back over his shoulder. The Serpentines, more than a dozen in number as best they knew, had left a smoking hole in that jungle section as they drove through, snapping roots thicker than a Giant’s girth with ease. Dense smoke already billowed out from the topmost layer of the foliage and drifted toward them on a swirl of air. As he had suspected, some of it higher up was a mass of bone-dry tinder just waiting for a spark.

As supplied …

There they came. Certanshi and Wyverns began to flit out of the smoke, first in their tens, then in a great surge hundreds strong. The unfortunate ones, flaming like torches, plummeted immediately into the Darûz. He could not imagine the carnage inside. Yet, as the trailbreaker

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