Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
I take it, and I manage to get up on the dragon behind her after a few messy tries. Once I'm settled in, Rachel helps me strap in to the saddle through a weird system of seatbelts ("So you don't fall off," she tells me, which doesn't ease my fears) and then Jurik is in the air. I hold my breath, terrified. I've never even ridden a horse before and this is ten times worse. I have no control, and one wrong move from Jurik and I'm going to fall right off his back, belts or no belts. I bite back a terrified moan and cling to Rachel. If nothing else, he won't let her fall.
It's for the medicine, I tell myself. If there's medicine to be found, it's my duty to bring it back to the fort. I tell myself that, but I know the truth of it. I wanted to get away for the day. I wanted to not have to worry about Azar or plague for a day, even if it's selfish. As Jurik takes another dip in the air, though, I have second thoughts.
"How long did you say this would take?" I ask again, trembling.
"Couple of hours," she calls back, the wind ripping at our voices. "Just relax and enjoy the ride."
Relax. Sure. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut again and hold on.
We seem to be in the air forever, the wind tearing at my skin and hair, the occasional oversized bug smacking at my shoulder and making me shriek in alarm. Rachel handles it all better than me. She snarls something about “disgusting bugs” and flicks them off of us, then leans forward to pat Jurik's neck. Every once in a while, I glance down at the ground, but it all looks the same to me. We're following a highway, the road lined with broken-down cars. Trees and greenery line the exits, along with broken remains of fast food restaurants and gas stations.
It takes me a while, but as I watch the road under us, it occurs to me that we're heading east. I remember the old highways, and as we pass another weathered green exit sign, it says Canton, and then Tyler. Worried, I tap Rachel on the arm. "I thought you said we were heading west?"
"Did I say west? I meant east." She gives me a reassuring smile over her shoulder. "We're almost there anyhow."
My skin prickles with uneasiness, but I fight it back. Rachel might not like Azar, but she's got no quarrel with me…does she? There's no reason to kidnap me. Even so, I wish I'd brought a weapon, or told Azar where I was headed for the day. Stupid, I tell myself. Stupid stupid. If you're in danger, you've walked right into this. You just hear the word “medication” and you go into savior mode.
The dragon flies lower, gliding close to an overpass, and I contemplate my options. I don't have many. I need to go back to the fort. I can't stay out here. We're so far out from the fort that I'd be vulnerable against any dragon that passes by. If they drop me here, it's a long way back to the fort, and it'll take me days…if I make it. If I don't get attacked or killed first.
I tighten my arms around Rachel, but if she's got a sinister plan, she's hiding it well. Is there a plan, I wonder. Are they taking me away from the fort for a reason? I'm needed at the clinic, but more than that, Azar needs me.
What will he think if he finds out I'm gone? Will he think I ran away? Left him? The thought hurts me. I imagine the betrayal in his eyes. I'm the only one he trusts. The only one he feels he can be vulnerable around. Without me…
Without me, he really will become that asshole dictator over the fort. There'll be no one to keep him in check, to remind him how people act towards one another. So is that the plan? Pull me away from Azar and let him destroy himself? I can't let that happen. He's not a bad person. He might have been raised by bad people, but he's got a heart under all his bluster. He just doesn't know how to access it sometimes. He needs me.
Just as much as I need him.
"Here we go," Rachel calls out cheerfully as Jurik circles around a building. It looks like an old post office, with an old postal truck that's crashed through a window and weeds have grown up around the wreckage. The roof is collapsed and a tree has fallen across the building, which doesn't give me much hope for the contents. This is definitely a trap.
When Jurik lands gently in the small, overgrown parking lot of the post office and ruffles his wings, I grab at the belts that hold me in place. "I want down," I demand, trying to keep my voice from wavering. "Right now."