Page 107 of Fallen Nocturne

The braces engage with a clicking sound and suddenly her wings become rigid. They extend fully, catching the rising current beneath them. Coral’s not falling anymore. She’s gliding.

“Oh gods,” I breathe, my hands pressed to my mouth.

My wyvern soars along the cliff face. The wind catches her wings and she banks, shifting her weight to turn.

Coral is flying.

My wyvern is actually flying.

The morning sun breaks over the mountains, catching on her pale scales, turning her into something from a dream.

A sound escapes me. It’s half a laugh and half a sob. Beside me, I hear Arescaine’s sharp intake of breath.

“It works,” he whispers to himself, disbelief softening his voice.

Coral climbs higher. Wait—that’s too high. I see it the moment it happens. She tries to flap, but the braces aren’t designed for that. They’re made for gliding, not powered flight. The sudden movement throws off her balance.

She tilts and wobbles and then—

She’s falling.

“No!” The scream tears from my throat. “Coral!”

She drops like a stone, wings pinwheeling uselessly, the braces unable to catch the air at this angle.

The shadow beasts move.

They’re faster than anything I’ve ever seen. One moment they are waiting at the edge of the field. The next they are beneath Coral, their bodies expanding and merging into a broad cushion of living darkness.

Coral hits them and bounces on the writhing darkness as though she has landed on a cloud. The shadows cradle her gently, lowering her the last few feet to the ground where she sits, dazed but unhurt.

I run to her and drop to my knees beside her. “Are you hurt? Let me see—”

She makes an annoyed sound and shakes me off. Maybe I’m fussing over nothing. Coral looks up at me and makes an excited chirping noise, her tail wagging frantically.

Arescaine arrives beside us a moment later.

“You did well,” he tells her.

Coral preens like she understands every word.

He kneels beside us, checking the braces for damage. His shoulder brushes against mine. I’m suddenly very aware of how close we are. He smells of cedar smoke and heated iron.

“That was amazing,” I manage to say. “She was flying.”

“More like gliding,” he corrects gently. His fingers move over each connection, checking for bends or cracks. “The braces need work. They require more flexibility, or perhaps something to keep her from losing balance again.”

He tests the locking mechanism and frowns. “But it worked. She stayed in the air. Now I just need to make sure she can do it safely.”

Then he looks at me. “I can adjust the brace to let her go higher, but the choice is yours.”

“Yes,” I say. “I believe in Coral. Please.”

Something passes between us in that moment. His eyes are so dark, like looking into deep water, and I have the strangest urge to lean closer, to—

Coral headbutts both of us, breaking the moment. She’s ready to try again, impatient with our talking.

Arescaine laughs, and the warm, unguarded sound does something it shouldn’t to my pulse. “All right, all right. Let’s get you back to the forge. I need to make adjustments before the next test.”