Dragons Awakening
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: A Good Plan

Wind pressed her against the dragon’s back, a good thing. Except when she wanted to jump off. Heels scraping across the scales, Zi maneuvered onto her knees. The sides of the spike in front of her bit into her biceps. Not holding on too tightly.

“Two.” What happened to four and three? She pressed to her tip toes. No time for more than a single gulp of air.

Ezer rolled. Zi plunged downward, screaming, wasting every ounce of thin air she’d managed to inhale a second earlier. The silver wing rose up at the same speed as the dragon fell away. A graceless face-plant sent vibrations jarring through her kneecaps and palms. Wind shoved her backward, carrying her grunt over her shoulder. She lunged forward, fingers stretching for the front lip of the wing. Hadn’t she seen people standing up on these things? Not cruising near 10,000 feet.

Beneath her, the wing vibrated, feeling like a spring board the instant after a person jumped on it. Pain sliced through her glove-covered hands. The frozen edge of the wing cut across her palm at the finger joints. Zi gritted her teeth, arching her face away from the slippery silver. Above her, the roar of the engines made thinking difficult.

Blusters slapped her eyelids closed when she tried to open them. She faced the plane. Did her father see her fall onto the wing? The windows were several feet above the wing level. Pain scorched her cheeks. The constant onslaught of brittle air forced her to clenched her jaw. The first part of the plan worked. She would save her father if it killed her.

No, Ezer said in her mind. Was he trying to encourage her. She struggled to twist in the direction she expected he had flown. The pummeling air pinned her to the wing.

Okay, dragon. I won’t die today. Hope that makes you happy.

A blast of heat scorched the front of the plane. Zi’s face burned. A flaming ball shoot from beneath the jet. Qwystanak had arrived. Good news for their overall plan. Bad news for her rescue attempt.

The plane bucked, launching Zi upward. She scrabbled onto her knees, squinting toward the bank of windows above her. Could he see her now?

“Father!” Zi screamed. Her words blasted back into her face. Not giving up. “This is my vision. Get off the plane.”

The plane shuddered, bumping upward. Zi slammed back onto her stomach. She clenched her aching hands over the edge of the wing. Her forearms trembled like leaves in the wind. All this and she would never know if he saw her or got her message.

Too close to the plane. She needed to be further from the body before flinging free.

“Mr. Oohara!” Her scream whipped back at her. “Get off the plane.”

The plane lurched sideways, tilting her toward the end of the wing. Stuttering beneath her loosened her death grip. Like someone heard the need and answered.

A gargantuan roar swelled from somewhere under her. A fiery ball launched upward, bursting against the nose of the jet. Fire engulfed the front of the plane. This was the end of her vision. She couldn’t change it after all. The butterflies in her ribcage turned to stone. If she lived, she would be an orphan.

“Please, jump,” she yelled. The slicing sensation in her hands turned ghostly. Her fingers belonged to someone else. She tried to push up onto her knees but the wash Ezer had described forced her flat against the wing.

Let go. Just let go.

The plane bumped and bobbled. Its nose pointed toward the ground. Zi closed her eyes and relaxed her grip.

Her body flew away from descending plane. White puffs of mist interspersed with the deep blue of the sea. She flipped backward. A stretch of azure overhead. Face directly toward the ground. So far away. Tilted toward the plunging jet, she saw something gray drop from the far side. Another turn, and the sky stretched forever.

“Flap your arms in the opposite direction of your spin,” the pilot’s words echoed in her head.

Arms in front of her, Zi slammed her palms downward. They hardly moved. Still she spiraled out of control. Another smash of her useless hands, only now they pressed above her head. After several attempts, her body leveled out and she fell, stretched on her belly, facing the plane. It was far away now, much closer to the ground.

Between them, a man swam through the air. His short dark hair danced riotously. His dark blue designer suit pressed against his lean form. Not a failure after all.

A red parachute exploded several yards to her right, jerking a gray-clad figure upward. The person she had seen leave the plane. Sying.

Another roar penetrated the blast of wind against her ears. Zi looked down. A few hundred feet below her, a black dragon grasped the hardened wings of a red one. Air shimmered around the pair an instant before an ice storm unleashed into the belly of the red monster.

Something touched her hand. Zi looked away from the melee and into her father’s muddy eyes. He tugged her against his chest, the first hug in forever. She reached her arms around his waist, pressing against him for a bare instant. Something like a giant hand snatched her backward, away from him. He had released her chute.

A moment later, a flash of royal blue expanded in the air beneath her feet. Her father jerked toward her again. Safe. She had saved her father. The warm flood in her chest was chased by icy fingers inching up her spine. The dragons.

She glanced down. An endless stretch of water rushed closer. Her stomach flipped inside-out. A pair of dragons, clenched in a terrifying scratch match, plunged toward the sea. Air rippled above them. The white dragon flickered into view, wheeled in a different direction and faded from sight again. Where was Akolo? She hadn’t seen him, barely catching a glimpse of Jokul during his instantaneous reappearance.

Air rushed past her face, drying her mouth when she opened it to call out to her father. Did he see the dragons? How could he not see them? Fear wormed farther up her spine. Plunging toward an uncertain landing in the expanse of choppy saltwater would make anyone terrified.

One question filled her with dread: would the water corrode the metal shell?

On its heels, an even more mind-numbing thought: could Ezer crack it open and stop the heart of their enemy?