Asher woke up with a sharp gasp. He was covered in sweat, and his heart thudded in his chest. Another nightmare. Great. He ran a hand over his face, trying to recall what it had been about, but it slipped out of his grasp.

You seem troubled.

Asher twisted around, the strange, wordless thoughts echoing through his head. Aurum was watching from the edge of the pond, resting his head on his forelegs. His dark scales gleamed in the daylight.

. . . I'm fine. It was just a bad dream. Asher pushed himself upright, blinking. The storm had finally passed; light gray clouds covered the sky, casting a flat light over the forest. A few birds flew over his head, chirping brightly to one another.

He opened his mind to the magic. It was back within his reach, clear and sharp. He breathed a sigh of relief; he'd begun to worry the drug had permanently damaged his connection to it. Asher flexed his fingers--he felt much better. He looked at Aurum.

How long was I sleeping?

I think it's been about half a day, but I'm not sure. I fell asleep too.

I think I can heal you now. Asher glanced at his leg. And myself.

Good. Aurum got to his feet and stretched in a way that strongly reminded Asher of a cat. I don't think we have much more time here.

Asher nodded and looked at his leg. It throbbed, but the pain wasn't as bad as before. He touched it with one hand and closed his eyes, letting the magic flow through him. It felt so much easier without the drug blocking its presence. In seconds, the ache vanished. He carefully stood up. He felt a little tired, but that was nothing compared to the exhaustion he'd experienced the past few days. The aftermath of the storm and his magical outburst had been far worse than this.

You created a storm? Aurum asked, incredulous.

Asher frowned. Would you stop doing that? But yes. I didn't have much of a choice.

You have to block your thoughts from me if you don't want me to see them, the dragon said dryly. Why would you need to create a storm?

Rivas.

. . . How long has this man been chasing you, exactly?

Asher thought for a moment. Only a few days. He walked over to Aurum and examined his wounds. Would you spread out your wings? It'll be easier for me to do this that way.

Aurum cocked his head. You can't heal it all at once?

I dunno. I don't want to accidentally mess up or hurt you.

Fair enough. Aurum extended his wing, growling softly as a few half-closed cuts tore open. Asher held his hands over the membrane, concentrating. Healing himself was one thing, but a dragon . . . well, he knew nothing about dragons. The magic would do most of the work for him, but he wanted to be careful nonetheless. A soft glow engulfed his hands as he began the process.

This could take a while, he warned.

We have time. Aurum's gaze flicked around the dark forest. Probably.

Asher rolled his eyes. That's very encouraging. He moved to the first cut, about three feet long. A thin dribble of blood leaked from one edge. So . . . why are you really helping me?

The dragon huffed, annoyance flashing through his mind. I already told you this. I had never seen a human before, and I was curious. When I saw the man fighting you, I could tell he had bad intentions. That's why I attacked him.

How could you know that?

His aura. It felt . . . dark. So I helped you, and you helped me. You also attacked me, but I'm choosing to ignore that. Aurum regarded Asher, amusement glinting in his eyes. I left my home to explore, to be free. Aiding you will not stop me from doing that. And, besides I couldn't exactly leave you at the mercy of the human who did this--he glanced at his wing--to me.

Asher, suddenly filled with a warm gratitude, simply smiled. He was making progress on Aurum's wing--about a fourth of it was whole again. He took a step back, considering. Am I healing it correctly?

Aurum twisted his head around to look at the wing. Yes.

Okay.

There was a brief pause as Asher labored over the ruined wing, questions flitting through his head. He settled on the most pressing one. I thought dragons were extinct. How are you here?

There aren't many left, but we still remain.

Asher frowned. I suppose we have something in common, then. I may be the only magi left in all of Eldernia.

He felt a brief flash of sympathy from Aurum. What about the man? The . . . Valkir?

Asher scowled. He doesn't count. The Valkir are murderers, all of them. He sighed, trying to think of a different topic. This one held too much weight for him. Is it true dragons can breathe fire?

Aurum's mind went blank. What?

One legend says dragons can breathe fire from their mouths.

. . . No, we can't do that. That makes no sense. How did anyone think of that?

Asher shrugged.

Humans are weird.

Can't argue with you there . . . Alright, I think I'm done with this side. He moved around Aurum. The dragon quietly spread the other wing out, and Asher began healing it. There was so much blood--he was amazed Aurum could even stay conscious in such a state. Which brought him to his next question. How did you survive against Rivas, if you can't use magic like we do?

We can't use it, but we can resist it in some ways if we want to.

How?

Aurum was quiet for a moment, thinking. How do I explain it . . .? He tried to manipulate the ground underneath me as we fought, sending some sort of blade made of rock at my stomach. But it wavered when it came near, and I was able to avoid it. He tried to overwhelm me with a wave of fire. It hurt, but it did not melt my scales and burn my flesh.

That's . . . incredible. What Aurum described reminded Asher of what Rivas had told him of natural magic, but somehow different.

You can't do it? That's ironic. Humans are most vulnerable to the very power they can control.

But if you resist the magic, how could he still harm you? As he spoke, Asher finished working on Aurum's wing and moved to the dragon's side. The cuts here were less severe, except for the deep stab wound in his shoulder.

I said resistant, not immune. Magic is an ancient force, more powerful than anything else in the world. There is no stopping it. The only limit you humans have is the weakness of your bodies.

That's a good thing, Asher thought. He didn't want to imagine what the Valkir--or any magic-user, really--could do with that kind of power.

He stood up after another minute and walked around Aurum. At his command, the glow around his hands faded away. I think I'm done now. Does anything else hurt?

No. Aurum spread his wings and flapped them experimentally. The resulting gust of air was strong enough to send Asher stumbling back. Sorry. Thank you, Asher. Aurum rolled the name around in his mind, apparently still unfamiliar with such titles.

Asher grinned. You're welcome. I'm glad you're okay.

You seem much stronger than you did before.

I'd used too much magic, driven myself too far. Now I've had a chance to rest, this little magic doesn't affect me that much.

Little? You just healed all of my wounds.

He scratched his neck. Maybe healing's just easier than you think.

Aurum narrowed his eyes. You have no idea what you're talking about, do you?

Not really, no.

A cold wind swept through the trees. Asher shivered and looked up at the cloudy sky. Wade had definitely been right about the weather--it was miserable and rainy, and it looked like it would be that way for some time. He sighed, the thought of his friend bringing back a tidal wave of gnawing worry.

I hope they're okay, he thought to himself. Aurum lifted his head.

Who are you talking about?

Asher looked over at the dragon and showed him a few images of Wade and Henry. I think they're in danger. Because of me.

Aurum didn't need to say anything--Asher could feel his burning curiosity. He reluctantly related everything that had happened to him over the past few days. The dragon listened quietly, his eyes focused and calm.

So . . . they're your family, he concluded after Asher fell silent.

I don't--

You think of them like family.

They took me in. And because of that, they've got a Valkir after them.

He could feel Aurum thinking. You believe that this is your fault?

I know it's my fault. Asher sighed. I just wish I could do something to see if they're alright.

Aurum snorted. You have magic. Surely there's some way for you to contact them.

Asher's head jerked up. "Oh," he said aloud. "Right. I'm an idiot."

What did you say?

Nothing. I hadn't thought to do that.

Aurum's tail lashed at the ground. He looked around them, eyes narrowed. Talk to your family, then, but hurry.

Okay. Asher walked to the edge of the pond and reached for the magic. He didn't know how to start: raising one hand, he thought of Henry and Wade. I need to talk to them.

Nothing happened. He scowled and pushed harder, forcing the magic to bend to his will. Something in it wavered, and his surroundings suddenly shifted. He was still in a forest, but the trees were taller here, the ground rockier. He could see Henry and Wade before him, talking to one another. A dark horse stood nearby, grazing on the sparse weeds.

What the . . . Asher looked around, confused. Did I teleport?

No. Aurum's voice was as clear as ever, though the dragon was nowhere in sight. You're standing exactly where you just were.

"--stupid and dangerous!" Henry was yelling. With a start, Asher realized that the two weren't talking. They were arguing. In the months he'd known them, he had only seen Henry this angry once. It was intimidating, to say the least.

Wade seemed torn between anger and fear. "If I hadn't gone, we'd have known nothing! The Valkir could have found us!"

Valkir? Asher glanced over his shoulder instinctively. What had happened? He opened his mouth to say something, but Henry was already speaking.

"Perhaps." The smith's voice was dangerously low. "But that had only been a possibility. When you went outside, alone, she did find you. It's only a matter of time until she realizes who you are."

"But I needed to know what was happening! If we hadn't learned this when we came to Norstarn--" Wade's eyes shifted to the side, where Asher stood. He cried out in shock and stumbled back.

Henry spun around, raising his fists. At the sight of Asher, his eyes widened. Ever so slowly, he lowered his hands. "Asher?"

"Hi," Asher said awkwardly.

"Asher! What--what happened to you?" Wade stammered, happiness and concern mixing in his voice.

"Er . . ." Asher looked down at his body. It seemed half-solid, pale and insubstantial. Oh. "Nothing, nothing. I'm fine." He grinned uneasily. "I'm using magic to do this . . . somehow."

"Somehow?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure what I did. What I'm doing."

"Well, it's good to see you, son," Henry said after a confused pause.

"Even if you look like a strange ghost," Wade added.

"Are you both okay?" Asher asked. "I heard you say something about a Valkir."

Wade looked at his father, biting his lip. "I think we're fine for now. We'll need to keep moving."

"Norstarn is going to be a problem," Henry said. "The Valkir have told soldiers to look out for a father and son traveling north, and it's probably not just in Silith."

"Okay . . ." Asher frowned. Curious as he was, he didn't have much time for questions. "How far away are you from Norstarn?"

"We've been going faster than usual, so about two more days. How about you?"

Asher felt around for Aurum's presence. The dragon was silent, oblivious to their conversation. Aurum, how fast could you fly to Norstarn? He showed the dragon a mental map of where they needed to go.

The dragon considered. It's hard to say. If I'm carrying you, perhaps two and a half days.

Perfect.

"Asher?" Wade cocked his head. "What are you looking at?"

"It's a long story, and I don't have much time to explain, but I'm with a dragon right now."

"What?" Henry and Wade said at the same time.

"He can fly a lot faster than any person. He says he could take me Norstarn in the same amount of time. But if we need to go somewhere else, I'm sure I--we--could find you."

Henry frowned, quickly hiding his bewilderment. "Norstarn is the only place I know how to get to. That inn I told you boys about is at the very edge of town. So long as we keep our heads down, it should be safe."

Asher nodded. "Alright. I'll meet you there, then."

Wade still looked utterly confused, but he held his tongue. "I'm happy you're still alright, Ash."

"Same here. See you soon."

"Good luck."

"Be safe." Henry looked at his son. "And you--we have more to talk about."

Asher gripped the magic again, telling it to take him back to the pond. His surroundings began to fade. He blinked a few times, and he was back with Aurum. The dragon watched him curiously.

Your family is safe?

Family. Asher wasn't used to hearing that word. Yes.

Aurum shifted his wings, his eagerness to fly again seeping through their bond. We should go.

Yes . . . Asher eyed the dragon.

Get on my back. Unless you'd rather I carry you in my claws.

No, that's fine. Asher hesitantly climbed atop Aurum's back. There was a space between the dragon's wings and neck where he could sit. This feels weird, he said, shifting uncomfortably.

Aurum shook his head and took a few steps forward, raising his wings into the air and crouching down experimentally. Yes, but it's the easiest way to do this. Just hold on and keep your feet away from my wings.

Asher wrapped his arms around the dragon's neck and tucked his legs out of the way.

Ready?

Ready.

Without further warning, Aurum leapt into the air above the pond, bringing his wings downward with incredible force. Asher gasped and clung tighter as they shot up above the treetops, painfully aware of how easily he could fall and die. Wind tore at his face and clothes, snatching the air from his lungs. It was petrifying.

Relax. I'd catch you if you fell.

Asher didn't reply; he was too busy watching the ground fall away beneath them, the trees melding together in a single mass of red and orange leaves. Aurum really was fast--they were already halfway to the clouds above. His stomach did a strange sort of flip, and he shuddered.

Asher.

What?

You're choking me.

Sorry. Asher forced himself to loosen his grip around Aurum's neck a little. The dragon leveled off; the forest spread out below them, a mass of vibrant autumn colors. Asher could see a river snaking across the land, reflecting the flat silver light of the clouds. It was beautiful, in a terrifying sort of way.

Better? Aurum asked, his wingbeats more regular now. Asher slowly lifted his head. The bitter wind clawed at his eyes, making it difficult to see.

Asher closed his eyes and swore under his breath, trying not to think about falling. Maybe. I don't know.

Aurum hummed in amusement and kept flying. I thought I would never be able to fly again.

Asher glanced at the clouds, only a hundred feet or so above. It's important to you, isn't it? Being able to fly?

I live in the sky. It is my home. Without my wings, I lose my freedom. That is a fate far worse than death.

Asher was amazed by the dragon's honesty. Why are you telling me this?

. . . I don't know. Aurum sounded uneasy. He abruptly shifted the subject. When you showed me the way to the town, you wanted me to go toward the mountains and then turn west. I could fly straight to it, though, if you want. It would only take a day's travel.

Asher eyed the forest below. We'd be flying over many towns if you did that. Someone could see you and tell the Valkir.

Okay. Aurum's thoughts turned inward, blocking his mind from Asher. Asher sighed and hesitantly looked back out over the land, trying to keep himself from making the mistake of looking straight down. The mountains rose up in front of them, some distance away. Their snowy peaks brushed against the clouds, sharp and jagged.

Soon, he thought to himself. I'll be there soon.

And then what will I do? The thought rose from the depths of his mind, sharp and sudden. Asher buried his head into his arms, gritting his teeth. The Valkir never gave up. They wouldn't stop hunting him. Rivas seemed to have no problem tracking him, and some part of him knew that even with Aurum, the man would find a way to get to him. It was hopeless.

As despair threatened to overwhelm him, something began to dawn on Asher. He took a shaky breath, squeezing his hands together so hard it hurt. No, there was only one option for him.

Whatever happened, at some point . . . he would have to fight.