Freedom's Fall (17 page)

Willersby released her, but before she could move he slapped
her so hard on the side of the face that she fell to the floor. Her ears rang
and her vision blacked for a moment, so she didn’t see the boot coming hard and
fast at her ribs.

The impact doubled her over as the pain shot through her
body. A hot wave of agony filled her, so severe she had to fight the urge to
throw up. Curled into a ball, she took the next kick on her shoulder, the
impact twisting her open for a moment before she struggled back into the fetal
position in the wild hopes of giving herself some protection.

Willersby grabbed her by the hair and dragged her across the
floor. Keeping her knees to her chest, Tansy reached up to grab his wrists so
he didn’t yank her hair from her scalp. She didn’t have to look where he was
taking her, because she knew him too well. He wouldn’t be able to resist the
open ledge of the landing. She had a sinking feeling her will to survive wouldn’t
be strong enough to fight what he had in store for her.

As soon as they left the den, Rye and the other members of
Behr’s special squad dropped down to fly as close to the trees as they could.
The snap of branches and twigs formed a sharp counterpoint to the heavy beat of
dragon wings, but the sky above them was so busy nobody noticed the five
dragons arrowing toward the coast.

As they flew under and beyond the den’s battle formations,
the blacks concentrated on the forward view while their riders kept their heads
tilted skyward, on the alert for any enemy movement from above.

They weren’t as exposed as Rye felt. The blue soldiers were
used to the flights coming at them fast and high, so it was unlikely anyone
would be looking down. Even if they were spotted, the soldiers would have to
ask for and receive permission to break formation. At the speed the dragons
were traveling, that permission would come too late to pose a threat.

They flew low and fast, but it seemed to take a long time to
get to the enemy line. Rye’s group was just ahead of the leading edge of the
main formation, and when the blue soldiers came into view they didn’t have eyes
for anything but the three-hundred-odd dragons coming straight at them.

Skimming even lower, the small squad slipped behind blue
solider lines. They continued to fly at speed, five shadows racing under the
amassed Brightstar army. As soon as the trailing edge came into view, the
dragons back-winged on a prearranged signal.

Pulling up fast enough to throw their Enforcers hard against
their saddle restraints, the dragons shaved off speed in a bone-jarring lurch.
Rye folded his upper body, lowering his chest so he could cling to Zenbaylan’s
neck as she dropped through the leafy canopy and found a tree trunk strong
enough to take her weight. She clung, her claws scraping deep gouges into the
wood as she tucked her wings tight against her back. The foliage was thick
enough to hide all five dragons and their riders, so they settled as best they
could and waited.

The Brightstar army was organized and hierarchical, and in
that they were similar to the Enforcers. But unlike the Enforcers, the blue
soldiers with power and authority liked to advertise who and where they were. Sergeant
Edrick, for example, wasn’t high enough in the chain of command to be on a
gunship, but he was entitled to his own oversized skiff, stamped on the side
with his name and rank.

The moment that particular transport flew overhead, the dragons
would burst from the treetops and come up below and behind the soon-to-be-dead sergeant.
All they had to do was wait for him to come to them.

When Zenbaylan lurched from the trees and sent herself
skyward prematurely, Rye scanned the area, looking for the attack that was no
doubt coming. But there was nothing to see.

Tansy’s in trouble.
Zenbaylan sent out her message on
a band wide enough for the other four dragons to hear, and none of them moved a
muscle as she headed back to the den. She didn’t ask for permission to leave or
check that the others could cover her absence. She just left, and Rye had never
in his life been so glad for dragon arrogance.

Zenbaylan’s declaration sent his mind spinning into all
kinds of panicked scenarios.
Do you know what’s happening?
he asked.

Willersby Lockmehdyhn is in our den with four armed
guards. I’ve told her we’re coming. She’s promised to stay in the den until we
get there.

Rye frowned. This was where dragon arrogance took a turn for
the worse. A creature as ruthless and militant as Zenbaylan had no concept of
powerlessness or the terrifying fragility of a human woman. It wasn’t a matter
of whether Tansy wanted to survive until they got there—it was a matter of
whether she could.

Fear coated Rye’s skin in a metallic sweat and he crouched
low in the saddle, mentally urging Zenbaylan forward even though she was flying
at her maximum speed. Gloved hands clenched tight on his saddle, Rye tried to
settle himself enough to begin strategizing.

Have you told Fellescend what’s going on?
he asked
Zenbaylan.

Yes. We’ve decided he will stay in the battle until I
have assessed our pet’s situation. Fellescend is ready to come if I need him.

Has he told Dev?
Even as Rye posed the question he
was pretty sure what the answer would be.

No. Dev is busy at the moment and can’t afford the
distraction. You and I will do for now.

Rye winced. Dev would explode when he found out the dragons
had left him out of the loop and, unfortunately, Fellescend and Zenbaylan
wouldn’t give a fuck. The blacks thought they ruled the den and everyone in it,
especially their riders.

It was the longest flight of Rye’s life, skimming the
treetops at a reckless speed while hoping the soldiers fighting above him were
too busy to look down. A single dragon was easy pickings, and now the battle
was raging no blue soldier would bother to ask permission to go hunting. Rye
had his bow drawn and ready, the explosive head of the arrow resting against
his thigh and his quiver of spares close to hand. Scanning the skies, his whole
life slowed down to the next beats—his heart fast and thready, and Zenbaylan’s
wings smooth and strong.

Fighting against Willersby’s rough grip, Tansy opened her
eyes to see the edge of the landing coming closer and closer. The smooth floor
offered no purchase for her bare feet, and her silk-clad body slid along the
marble floor as if by design. The floor disappeared before her eyes, the sky
looming larger and larger until her vision was nothing but a sea of blue. And
then Willersby turned her on her stomach and shoved her head and shoulders over
the edge.

Nothing but sheer red rock for hundreds and hundreds of
meters down. The striations of blue, green, yellow and pink formed a
kaleidoscope that pushed Tansy from panic to abject terror. She had no breath
to scream, so she fought, writhing and twisting against Willersby as though she
were some wild animal caught in a trap. Someone was yelling but she couldn’t
make out the words against the roaring surge of her panic rebounding through
her body.

Then she was flipped over, one guard pinning her legs, one
on either arm, and Willersby standing above her, clothes askew and breathing
hard. “Do you want to go over the ledge? Are you so determined to push me?”

Tansy was beside herself, so wound up in fear and anger that
she just opened her mouth without any thought as to what might come out. “I don’t
give a flying fuck. Hold me over the edge—drop me for all I care—because I will
never,
never
submit to you.” Her breath heaved in and out, her lungs
burning with rage. “I’d rather fucking die than have your hands on me again.”

Willersby lifted a perfectly polished boot and placed it on
her sternum. Hard. “Fortunately, I’m the one who decides if you live or die. I
own you, and my needs and desires are the only ones that count.” Stepping back,
he motioned to his men. “Get her up.”

They dragged Tansy to her feet, and she wasn’t quite upright
when Willersby grabbed her by the front of her tunic and muscled her backward.
She felt the rough edge of the landing under her bare heels and she knew she
was only centimeters from going over the side. Willersby stepped on her toes to
keep her feet in place and then he levered her backward, pushing her upper body
out over the sheer drop and forcing her to rely on him to keep her safe.

Closing her eyes, she sent to Zenbaylan.
How close are
you?

We’re nearly there. Just hold on

“Let’s start again, shall we?” Willersby asked, pulling her
out of the link. “Who owns you?”

Tansy thought about it for a moment, then decided to give
the cold-hearted bastard the truth. “Devonelle Sharmanchere and Ryderich
Myrinmahr own me, now and always.”

Willersby’s face went an interesting shade of red and he
pushed her a little farther out. “Wrong answer, whore. Who owns you?”

“Not you. I’d be embarrassed to be owned by a pencil-dicked
gnome with no skills beyond being an asshole.”

Something dark came over Willersby’s face, and in that split
second Tansy knew she’d made a fatal mistake. The cold, calculating
intelligence that always lurked in Willersby’s eyes was gone, and in its place
burned a black rage that blocked out everything but the need to punish.

Hauling her close so they were nose to nose, Willersby
whispered against her lips, “Then we are done.” And with that he shoved her
hard enough to topple her off the landing and into the air.

Tansy’s whole world stopped. No sound, no feeling, no
thoughts, no nothing—just an empty, breathless void where there was nothing but
her imminent death.

Then the world rushed back as she fell, screaming her rage
and frustration at the world.

She felt something lash around her wrist. She jerked
upright, and her terminal velocity started to slow. Her shoulder burned under
the strain, but when she looked up to see Oskaal flying hard above her, his
tail wrapped around her wrist, she was so relieved she felt nothing but joy.

She was too heavy for the dragonet to carry, but he slowed
her fall, flying close enough to the wall of the den that Tansy could start to
scramble for foot- and hand-holds. The cliff face was rough, shaped by the
elements, and she was covered in dirt and a hundred tiny scratches before she
finally found purchase. It took her several attempts, but she eventually found
a foot-hold deep enough to secure her weight. Once she was as settled as she
could be, Oskaal flew in behind her, dug his claws into the wall on either side
of her and pressed himself against her back to give her additional support.

He rubbed his cheek against hers, chirping softly to
reassure her.

We’re almost to you, pet. Can you hold on?
Zenbaylan’s
voice washed through Tansy’s mind, cool and clear.

Yes.
She’d survived a drop off the side of a cliff.
She’d be damned if she was going to be done in by muscle fatigue and shock.
Zenbaylan?

Yes, pet?

You might want to hurry.

I’m going as fast as I can. You need to hold on for us.

So she did. She ignored the pain and the fear and the mess
that was her adrenal system. She didn’t look down and she refused to acknowledge
the hot trickles of blood she could feel slithering down her arms and legs. She
gritted her teeth against the cramps in her hands and feet. And she clung,
waiting, trusting Zenbaylan and Rye to get to her in time.

Heart in his mouth, Rye tried to control the panic as
Zenbaylan flew him beyond the battle zone. His sense of urgency didn’t abate as
they made their way under the reserve flights. Then there was nothing but sky
above them and it seemed a long, long time before the den came into view.

Zenbaylan had been giving him sporadic updates, so he knew
what to expect as they came closer, but when he saw his tiny mate clinging
unprotected to the sheer heights of the den wall, his racing heart jerked to a
painful halt. Then it tried to crawl up his throat.

Zenbaylan didn’t reduce her speed as they rocketed toward
the cliff face. She pulled up at the last moment and they hit the wall with
enough impact to jolt every bone in Rye’s body. He grunted as he slammed into
his dragon and held himself still as Zenbaylan slid, scrabbled and clawed her
way to a precarious halt. Small rocks and stones rained down on them in cloud
of red dust, and Rye coughed and choked as he jerked his helmet from his head.

They’d come to a rest a little below Tansy, and she clung to
the wall, wide-eyed and terrified, a full wing-length away from him. Rye tried
to keep his voice calm, but he really wasn’t up to the challenge. “How badly
are you hurt?” The words came out in a panicked shout.

“Just bruises and stuff,” she replied, her voice no steadier
than his.

“How bad is the ‘and stuff’? I have to know if there are any
breaks or strains.”

And that was when she started to cry, slow, fat tears that
streaked wet and muddy on her dirty, precious face. Her lip quivered and he
could see it was taking everything she had to hold it together. Oskaal still
braced her, and he chirruped, rubbing his face against hers and smearing her
cheeks even more.

Their position was dangerous for Tansy and far too exposed
for all of them. Rye knew he had to wrap this up quickly but he couldn’t afford
to add to her injuries. “Is anything broken?”

She shook her head. That would have to do.

“Zenbaylan and I are going to fly underneath you. When we’re
in position, I’m going to tell you to let go.”

Her eyes grew wild and they darted around as if another
solution might present itself out of thin air. Rye wished he could accommodate
her. “I’m sorry, honey, truly I am. If there was another way I’d do it for you,
but we’re short on time and options.” He didn’t know if Willersby was still
around, but if he came back in his transport with armed guards, Rye and
Zenbaylan would be nothing but target practice.

“I’m relying on you to trust me, Tansy. I’m counting on you
to help me do what needs to be done.” He looked into those terrified brown eyes
and steeled himself. “And I’m not fucking asking. You let go when I tell you—no
choice.”

Let’s go
.

The moment he gave the command, Zenbaylan pushed off the
cliff, arcing out into the air and circling up and under Tansy. Hovering as
close as she could to the cliff, Zenbaylan gave her commands to Oskaal and the
dragonet released his hold on the cliff, wrapped his tail around Tansy’s waist
and began pumping his wings.

Rye put the snap of a whip into his tone. “Now, Tansy. Let
go.” She hesitated, and Rye didn’t know whether to cry or scream. “Come on,
Tansy. You have to do it now.”

With a sobbing cry, she released her hold, and Oskaal worked
his wings hard, straining against her weight to guide her farther away from the
cliff. Zenbaylan didn’t take her eyes off him, and she rose slowly, meeting him
in the air, nudging him with her head, guiding him to slide down her neck until
a shaking and terrorized Tansy landed safely in Rye’s lap. He held her tight—too
tight, considering he was still wearing all his body armor—and wrapped as much
of himself as he could around her shaking body.