Soar

Chapter 12

The snow came thicker on the mountains. Among their heights only the sturdiest of trees were bold enough to stand. The wind was a constant menace, stirring snow into confusing drifts and preventing Runedan from flying. Had he been stronger, he might have flown over the mountains despite the storms, but he was still too weak.

Food was scarce. The cold was bearable thanks to Runedan's warmth, but such a comfort only served to make more room for hunger. Though I knew Runedan felt it more than I did, he never complained.

Some days we did not move from the hollow or cave where we had taken shelter from the present blizzard. On those days I wondered if we would ever make it to the river. I lamented our choice to escape with winter so near upon us, and then to refuse Lida's offer of a safe place to rest until winter had passed.

Then came the day when the mountains began to fall away into hills and the land changed from white and gray to something nearer to green. The winds stayed behind among the peaks, as well as the heaviest of the snows, and we entered a land where winter was again bearable.

Not long after that, we found the West River.

"I can see how this would be an obstacle to most who seek dragons," Runedan said.

I leaned against his leg and studied the river. Even this time of year it ran steady, though not too swiftly yet. It was also very wide. It cut through the rocky hills, occasionally falling over cliffs in thunderous cascades. Nowhere did I see a place where one might attempt to ford; neither was there any sort of bridge.

Beyond the river, the land spread away in sharp hills and distant lonely peaks, all colored a dreary greenish gray. There were few trees to be seen. Tall brown grasses and stunted shrubs bent under gusts of wind. Black birds wheeled in clusters overhead, sometimes diving in twos and threes. The far bank was like an entirely different world, having nothing in common save the river with the one we were leaving.

"It seems the only way to cross is by dragon," I said.

Runedan heaved a sigh and shifted his wings. "That certainly makes sense. Shall we?" He bent his shoulder invitingly and I hauled myself up.

That one leap across the river cost most of Runedan's diminished strength. We waited on the opposite bank, surveying our surroundings, while he caught his breath. As soon as his claws had touched earth, I had the feeling we were being watched. Now I kept checking over my shoulder, suspicious of every hillock and cluster of grass.

"Things are more cautious this side of the river," Runedan said. "Not at all encouraging if dragons are supposed to live here."

"Is there something out there?"

He tilted his head and looked down his snout at me. "You know there is. You may not have the nose I had imagined, but you still hear the voices others take for wind. There are a great many things out there, and most want to know what bold creatures have dared to cross their border."

I still did not see anything beside the few birds which had not left upon our arrival, but Runedan was right: I knew they were there. Whatever they were remained to be seen.

The sun was setting behind a bank of storm clouds when we left the river. We wandered among the abrupt hills until we found a valley in which to spend the night.

Sunrise broke over the hilltops and burned at my eyelids. I turned my face against the brightness, resting my cheek against Runedan's rough leg scales. Nearby came the rattling call of a bird. Runedan's stomach rumbled and I cracked open one eye.

On a stunted, winter bare tree not a dozen paces away perched the source of the noise. The bird was gray or perhaps blue, with a white breast and a dark beak. It shook itself and gave a high, sharp call, then cocked its head to one side.