Page 174 of Vasmora

MAEVYTH

Raivox let out a guttural caw, as Zevander and I clambered up his foreleg to his neck, where his horns curled back.

Lodging my gloved hand into his scales, I took hold of a horn in the other, while Zevander settled in behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

“There’s going to be a lot of wind and pressure. Don’t let go,” I warned.

“Believe me when I say, I have no desire to plummet to my death.”

“We’ll follow you there!” Adira shouted from where she sat on the back of Achlys, Corwin clutching her like his life depended on it.

I nodded and twisted forward. “Up, Raivox!” I commanded, and with a flap of his wings, the Corvugon lifted into the air. “Now, grab the man lying on the ground!”

Raivox reached out a claw, dipping just enough to swipe up Lothare from the sand below us.

Once certain he was captured in the Corvugon’s grasp, I commanded, “To Costelwick!”

Zevander’s grip tightened, and he let out a grunt as we surged up into the sky, buffeted by the winds that snapped and swirled around us. His thighs crushed mine as he pressed close, his muscles tense around me. Higher and higher, we ascended, the ground below growing distant, until the mercenaries we’d left behind became no more than nauseating specks that held no shape.

When Raivox finally leveled, I exhaled a shaky breath, clinging to him as I glanced down to my midsection, where Zevander’s arm remained banded around me. Draconysia passed in a blur beneath us, the miles of landscape quickly shifting from white sands to forest and open fields. Beside us, Corwin clutched Adira on the back of Achlys, while Viatrix followed closely behind.

“It’ll be difficult to travel any other way after this,” Zevander said in my ear.

“Is it the bird that thrills you so much?” I shouted over my shoulder with a smile.

“No.” His thighs squeezed mine. “Only you.”

I smiled, resting my hand on his. With both Raivox and Zevander back, I felt whole again, despite the broken state of things. “Perhaps we’ll try again, when we aren’t plotting to destroy a god.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

* * *

Firelamps flickered across all of Costelwick. The surrounding quiet was unsettling, given the city’s size. At least four of Foxglove Parish could’ve fit within the city’s border, yet not a single person prowled the streets. In their place, destruction choked the sprawling cityscape, from the busted stones and granite laying in crumbled piles, to merchant carts toppled over, as if war had broken out. Though, there was no sign of any bodies.

“Can you fly a bit lower?” Zevander asked from behind, and I gave Raivox a small pat on the neck.

“Lower.”

The Corvugon descended slowly, and it was then I could see the glisten of icy webs strung between buildings, where a coating of rime frosted the stones, the evidence of plague.

We passed over a narrow alley where white cocoons hung alongside animal carcasses. A spider sat atop one of them, its legs twitching as it frantically weaved a swath.

Sickness churned in my stomach at the whole city enmeshed in death and destruction. “Do you think anyone is alive?”

“It’s hard to say. I suspect some have taken shelter. Perhaps in the castle itself, if Sagaerin allowed it.”

Behind us, the other two Corvugons flanked either side of Raivox in a triangular formation.

Zevander pointed to a distant forest. “The healer’s cabin is just outside of that tree line there. On the other side of the knoll.”

Nodding, I leaned forward.

“Head for the tree line.”

Raivox swooped low enough that we could see a figure running through the streets ahead. A boy, given his small size, being chased by a spider at least six times his height.

“Gavroche!” Zevander yelled, and in glancing back at us, the boy stumbled to the ground as we passed over him.