James Maxey - Dragonseed

"Of course," said Shay. "Hex, do you still have your pack?"

Hex nodded, placing the large leather bag onto the straw-covered floor. Shay opened it and pulled out several silver disks like the one that sat between his shoulder blades.

"Stick these on your back and think about flying. You'll sprout wings. I have six more sets," Shay said. "That's enough for you and Anza, plus Vance and Thorny if they want to go with you."

"And me," said Jeremiah.

All eyes turned toward the twelve-year-old. He stood up from where he'd been sitting. He pulled out a knife that had been tucked into his belt. "This is Vulpine's knife. It's not his only weapon here. He gave me yellow-mouth so that I'd make everyone at Dragon Forge sick. If you're going back, I want to come. I want to take a big handful of the dragonseed back to heal anyone who got ill because of me."

"Boy, I didn't drag you all this way to heal you so that you could go off and get yourself killed," said Bitterwood. "Let someone else take back the dragonseed."

"You're going off to fight in a city of gods. Zeeky's stood up to dragons and angels. If my younger sister can fight these battles, so can I."

"I don't want Zeeky fighting these battles," said Bitterwood. "But your sister has powers. She can control the minds of animals. She can talk to ghosts and see the future."

Zeeky didn't think Bitterwood described what she could do correctly, but she held her tongue. She knew exactly how the next ten minutes were going to play out. In ten minutes, she would follow Bitterwood through the underspace gate to Atlantis. That's where her knowledge of the future ended. Whatever waited in Atlantis, the voices either couldn't see, or wouldn't say.

Jeremiah walked over to the disks and picked one up. "You're right. Zeeky was born with powers. She's the one who could talk to animals. She once talked a bear out of eating our grandma." He stuck the disk on his back. He scrunched up his face, as if he were about to sneeze. Whatever mental signal he sent the disk worked. Silver wings unfolded from his shoulders, flashing in the candlelight.

"I should at least have wings," he said, as his feet lifted from the ground.

Zeeky had to admit, the wings looked good on him.

Bitterwood, however, wasn't convinced. "Jeremiah, you ran when the long-wyrms raided your village. You ran from the battle at Dead Skunk Hole. Why are you suddenly so brave?"

Jeremiah gave Bitterwood a serious look. "I heard Blasphet tell you how it feels to die. It's the same way I felt fifteen minutes ago, before he healed me. As horrible as death feels, it's not as bad as being afraid. It's time I grew up."

Vance butted in. "There are other rebels his age at the fort."

Bitterwood clenched his jaw. Zeeky placed her hand on his fist. "Let him go," she said.

"Will he be alright?"

"Yes," she said, though she didn't know his fate beyond the next few minutes. But he wasn't going to be killed in that small window of time, so it wasn't really a lie.

Vance and Thorny took their wings and Anza grabbed a disk for both herself and her father. In the aftermath, only one disk remained.

With an excited snort, Poocher trotted up, staring at Shay with a look somewhere between pleading and demanding.

Burke looked curious. "Would they even work for him?"

"I don't see how," said Shay. "They're controlled by thought."

"Hey!" Zeeky snapped. "Poocher thinks! He's as smart as you, just in different ways. Can you find edible roots by sniffing around? He's not even a year old and I bet he could survive alone in the woods better than you. Don't tell me he doesn't think."

Shay looked suitably chastised. "Fine. It can't hurt to try."

He sat the silver disk between Poocher's shoulder blades. The pig turned around in a circle, as if he were trying to see the disk on his back, which his fat neck wouldn't allow. After his third revolution, he closed his eyes and scrunched up his snout. His wings unfolded. He floated off the ground, looking smug.

Everyone in the room knew there was something that needed to be said. But not even Hex, who'd never shown any fear of an obvious joke, dared say it.

BURKE SOARED INTO the night sky. Shay led the way, shouting out advice on how to control speed, how to maneuver, and how to hover. Burke found most of the advice unnecessary. The wings responded to thought. He was good at thought.

It felt wonderful, slipping free of gravity, taking the weight off his exhausted leg and the pressure off his aching armpit. He experienced a sense of something approaching deja-vu-it was as if he had flown before. It felt perfectly natural. Just as he could feel the ghost of his missing leg, he now felt a different sensation: the presence of phantom wings that spread from his shoulders and occupied his new metal limbs. He, like most people, had experienced dreams of flying. What did it mean? Why did he feel so at home in the sky? Was it feedback? Since his thoughts guided the wings, did the wings somehow affect his mind? Or was there some deeper mystery at work here? The dragons believed in a myth that the world had once been ruled by angels who were then overthrown by dragons. His people believed the myth was a metaphor for dragons overthrowing humans. But, what if the myth was true? What if mankind had once possessed wings?

As comfortable as he felt in the air, Jeremiah and Anza looked even more at home. They were zooming around like sparrows at play, flitting about in tight loops that Burke doubted he'd have the stomach to attempt.

Vance looked stable in the air, though he avoided the daredevil antics of Anza and Jeremiah. Poocher floated without flapping his wings, as if he were some oversized black and white balloon. The pig didn't look nervous, but he no longer looked as cocky as he had earlier now that they were hundreds of feet off the ground. Thorny was the only member of their group who looked frightened. His newly restored hands were held out stiffly to each side, as if he was balancing himself on unseen stair rails.

Shay said, "I flew here in about two hours. I think the wings could go faster, but the wind takes your breath away. Also, in daylight, it was easy to follow the Forge Road. You'll probably need to fly slower so you won't lose it."

Poocher snorted. Shay looked at him, and saw the silver visor sitting on his snout. Shay could see in the dark with his visor; he supposed Poocher could too. He took the visor from his eyes and handed it to Burke. "Wear these. You won't lose the road then. The others can follow you. And, you may as well have this too." He loosened the long leather holster than held his shotgun and ammo. "It doesn't sound like it's going to be much more effective than a pea-shooter where I'm going."

Burke took the visor and the gun. He'd given Thorny the shotgun he'd fled Dragon Forge with now that he had working fingers again, so the additional firepower was welcome. "You're going to follow the others to Atlantis?"

Shay nodded, looking apologetic. "As much as I want to fight for Dragon Forge, my heart lies with Jandra. I'm afraid she's still possessed by the goddess."

"And what if she is?" said Burke. "How will you free her?"

Shay placed his hand on the hilt of the angel sword. "I don't know if she can be freed. If she can't, I have the only weapon that can hurt her."

"Understood," said Burke. "I'd make the same choice."

Shay floated over to Thorny. He slipped his satchel off and said, "You're a man who knows the importance of books. I found these in the kingdom of the goddess. They aren't interesting reading on their own, but they provide a key to understanding a lot of the books that survived from the Human Age. Try not to let them get around any open flames, okay?"

Thorny took the bag. "When all this is over and you get back to Dragon Forge to start your school, count me in as one of the teachers."