Free Silver Dragon Codex by R.D. Henham Page B

it gets light, I could fly in that direction until we found it.”
    Ebano looked animated as he stood and helped Belen up. Jace chuffed the taller man’s shoulder, congratulating him as Cerisse pulled Belen into a hug. “Er, that is if I can remember how to fly.” Belen sighed, engulfed by the eager half-elf’s premature celebration.
    They passed that night amid the ruins, finding a spot that had been sheltered enough by a fallen roof that they could crawl beneath it and stay dry. Ebano managed a second fire, and they warmed tea by the flame when the cloudy morning sky turned pink and orange. Belen walked away from the others and stood in the plaza, staring at the scar in the earth. Jace left her alone, struck by how much the image called up the memory of the dragon staring up through the snow toward the stars. He could hear Ebano and Cerisse chattering, communicating in a strange dance of words and gestures, and laughing when they couldn’t understand what the other one had said.
    Jace wondered how long it had been since this ruinedvillage had heard laughter. He looked up toward the west and tried to imagine the spread of silver wings against a blazing sunset. She’d probably come right through that gap in the trees, snowy breath flaring in great sweeps of mist and ice against a sunset sky. Jace shivered despite himself, imagining the terror of the villagers in the face of such an attack—even worse, to feel a curse take hold, changing their form and erasing their minds so that they remembered nothing but the feral, animal existence of wolves. Was that worse than losing the hundreds of years of memory that Belen must have had, being a dragon? The feeling of power, the deep mysteries of magic and enchantment that were native to such noble creatures, all of that was lost to her, shed like a cloak on a warm day.
    Did she feel small? Did she feel unbalanced, standing on two legs instead of four? Did she struggle to remember the feeling of her wings against the clouds? Standing there, staring at the torn ground where the stone of Chislev must have stood, did Belen have any memory at all of what the village looked like before she tore it apart?
    What was she thinking, standing so very still?
    “Belen?” Cerisse called from the campsite. She was standing over the ashes of their little cooking blaze, knocking the charred wood over with her boot, burying the signs of their fire. “Sun’s full up over the edge, even if you can’t seeit through the forest. Ebano told me that he doesn’t sense any more storm in the sky. Well, he either said that or he said he wants to turn into a bird, I’m not sure. But I think the wing thing means he’s ready to fly.” She turned warm brown eyes on the girl in the plaza. Behind her, Ebano twisted his thumbs together and flapped his fingers up and down on either side in good imitation of a bird.
    Jace walked to Belen’s side and shared a smile. “Think you can do it?” She met his eyes directly, and Jace felt his heart skip a beat.
    “Turn back into a dragon? Yes.” She nodded. “I have that part figured out. It’s the part that comes next I’m not so sure about—the flying part.”
    “Don’t worry.” Jace laid his hand on Belen’s arm. “Cerisse and I are acrobats. We fall just fine. And as for Ebano, well, if you really want, we can tie him to your leg.” Despite herself, Belen had to laugh. Ebano smiled, but Cerisse’s mouth tightened and her eyes narrowed grumpily.
    They gathered around Belen—not too close—while she shifted into dragon form. Once again, Jace watched the strange misty shiver of the air around her body, the feeling like a drawing in of breath as if the world itself pulled close about her form and draped it with silver scales. There was no stretch of flesh, only a quick blur of motion, like a magician’s thin scarf passing before the eyes, coatingher in silver and steel, great dragon’s wings, and a massive, graceful neck that flowed and moved like