Broken Path, Starless Tail - 17. Chapter 17

Maybe he shouldn’t be so amazed by flying, considering the modern world he came from, but flying on Valrinda’s back was really different from the two hour flight in a jet to his aunt’s house. One big difference? His seat was a living, breathing being who liked to crane his neck back and talk to him whenever he got the chance to snap his wings out and glide along on a thermal wind.

He answered a lot of questions Beckett had about the world they were gliding swiftly over. Watching the land rise and fall, he appreciated not having to trudge the distance each day but made Valrinda look for places to set down earlier in the evening so he could rest before it got dark. They always looked for a place with shade, shelter, and water if possible. The flask helped, but Beckett liked to bathe, and it turned out Valrinda would splash around in shallow water if the body of water was large enough.

One afternoon Valrinda paused, flapping his wings to hover high above the fading foothills of a mountain range. Not even Beckett’s coat had kept him warm as they flew over its high, white-capped peaks so they’d sped as fast as possible. The air had been cold and oxygen thin but the view had been spectacular so Beckett kept his eyes open despite feeling like the tears from the frigid wind would freeze his cheeks.

He was still chilly but looking forward to finding some warmth curled up with Valrinda by a fire, so he wasn’t sure why they stopped. “What is it?”

“There’s smoke on the horizon.”

Smoke meant fire, usually. “A fire, like a big one, or something like travelers’ fires?” He couldn’t see it, but there were clouds in the distance, and Beckett had no way to tell the difference between them and smoke. The landscape had also shifted from trees and jungle to a desert-like landscape with feathery plants, red sand, and large stone outcroppings casting wide shadows.

“I’m not sure. This would have to be a lot of fires to make that much smoke.”

Beckett curled against Valrinda’s neck again. He stroked it, sensing how troubled he was. “Are you okay? You seem really worried.”

“At the base of these mountains is the black road. Your dream….”

“Oh, yeah.” Beckett’s stomach churned. He didn’t have great feelings about what he’d seen. “Do we have to follow the road or stop by those fires?”

“We could try to avoid them by flying straight through and overnight, but we cannot deviate from the road. There are dangers here, creatures that avoid the road but not any who are unwary enough to land in the desert.”

“Let me guess… sandworms?” Beckett said dryly.

“Worms? No, they are tiny with teeth that couldn’t do more than welt even your bare skin. The biggest danger comes from the ivory biters. They are small creatures, but swarm in tunnels they dig with their dagger-like claws. Their body is nothing but a mouth and stomach and waste chute, and they burrow seeking food to go in one end and out the other. A swarm could consume me in seconds, even my bones, if I landed on one of their tunnels and they sensed the vibrations.

Beckett blanched, unable to get the image out of his mind from Valrinda’s graphic description, and shuddered with more than cold though he longed to be warm. “So we stay on the road. Why don’t we camp here tonight and make a plan?”

Unfortunately, they couldn’t have a fire because Valrinda smartly pointed out if he could see the smoke maybe a scout from whoever, or whatever, had made the other fire would see theirs. Beckett piled on an extra shirt to snuggle his arms under and cover his hands after he ate a cold dinner of stale bread and dried fruit followed by a long drink of sweet water. At least the flask and its spell hadn’t failed him. He poured and poured and poured until Valdrina had also drank his fill.

Valrinda curled like a snake, creating a nest for him and tucked a wing over top, becoming his living, breathing tent against the chill of the night. Exhausted, Beckett stroked Valrinda’s neck. “Do you think we could fly high enough to not be noticed by whatever caused the smoke?”

Valrinda grimaced. “I could, but I worry about your breathing and the cold. You didn’t do well with the mountain passage, and we’d have to be much higher in case they have a scryer or dragon with them.”

“What about just flying around? If you don’t land until we get back to the road, we’ll be safe, right? The biggest issue is the biter things?” If they couldn’t go over, maybe they could go around.

“They’re the worst,” Valrinda agreed. “We also might run into the territory of some flying chacories, and they have a wingspan similar to mine. Fighting one with you on my back could be dangerous.”

Beckett sighed. “So either we stay on the road and take our chances, we try to go over and maybe get scried, or we go around and potentially run into dangerous beasts.”

“No really good options but to go up and over. And you forgot that going over is going to be both painful and dangerous for you.”

“I can handle it,” Beckett insisted. It was really their only option. “How bad could it be?”

He dragged in another painful breath, each one sharp and fast as he tried to get enough oxygen. Despite wearing every layer he had, wrapping a shirt over his head and fast so just his eyes were exposed, and putting every inch of his body against Valrinda’s, Beckett was in danger of turning into a blue popsicle. Famous last words, his mother’s favorite admonishment when his dad was too overconfident, echoed in Beckett’s mind as he shook so hard his teeth clacked despite his clenched jaw.