Sarah Driver - Sky

Then one of the icebergs looms through the sea-mist and the terrodyl dodges, then pulls higher into the sky. Some of the bergs are so tall their heads are lodged in the clouds.

‘Hold tight!’ I scream. I grab Sparrow’s hands and pull his arms tighter around my waist. When the terrodyl’s finished climbing his wings settle again into a steady, whooshing beat. The air’s thinner up here and my lungs suck at it greedily.

We keep flying east, taking it in turns to nap, until another thin, wintry dawn cracks the sky from black to grey to white.

I stare down at the last iceberg, on the very edge of the forest. Then it’s behind us and there’s just a blend of grey-white sea and sky, before clouds seal us in. My belly gurgles loudly. Me and Crow ent munched a morsel or glugged a drop since we sailed to the Bony Isle to save Sparrow – and the gods only know when he last filled his boots. Then a low rumbling spreads through the terrodyl.

Hungerhungerhungerrrrr, empty belly , he chatters mournfully.

Maybe we could land, and Thaw and the terrodyl could catch some fish for us all? Fear-Beast, Thaw-Wielder, land to catch food? I ask. Thaw hoots her approval.

First time Crawler not utter soft-shell babblings. The creature’s spines ripple happily as he starts to drop lower in the sky. Through a cut in the clouds I glimpse a flash of dark, rocky earth.

‘I can’t be doing with those weird noises that bubble outta your throat when you talk to the thing,’ Crow calls. ‘What did you say to it?’

I roll my eyes. ‘He’s a he ,’ I shout back. ‘Least I think he is. He ent a thing , anyway. He’s gonna catch some fish to eat.’

‘Why’s it going to bother doing that, when it can just crunch us up and spit out our bones?’ he yells.

I twist to look at him, laughing. ‘Calm your fright-blubber, this one’s just a bab.’

Crow glares at me with contempt so thick it’s like he’s slapped it on with a tarring brush.

Sparrow’s hands feel cold and sweaty. Keeping hold of them tightly in one of mine, I lean right, along the terrodyl’s hairy wing. I reach out slowly, towards the icicles hanging underneath it, until I can touch one of them with a fingertip.

‘What d’you think you’re up to?’ bellows Crow.

Ignoring him, I lean out a smidge further, wrap my first two fingers around the ice . . . then fright tingles in my chest as Sparrow’s hand starts slipping from my grasp.

‘ Sparrow! ’ I lurch back into my seat, making the terrodyl sway and flap for balance, and grab Sparrow’s arms with both hands. ‘Nonononono! Don’t you dare fall!’ His filmy eyes roll back as he passes out and slumps over the left side of the creature’s back.

I swing the other way off my perch, too fast, grabbing hold of the spine in front of me just before I topple into thin air. Blood rushes to my head as I hang almost upside down.

‘You’ll get our bones smashed to splinters!’ Crow yells.

‘ Shut your face and grab Sparrow!’

He gives me a stare like death, but he stretches to grab my brother.

‘Don’t let him slip out of his cloak!’

‘I know !’

Sparrow’s arm drops from my waist. I grab his hand, but he slithers further to one side, eyes sunken and blackening. ‘ No! ’

Thunderbolt squeals, plucking strands of his hair in her fists.

We’re all leaning heavily over the terrodyl’s left side. Sparrow’s hand turns hot in mine, and a smell of burning weaves into my nose.

‘Pull him back into the middle!’ shouts Crow.

‘What do you think I’m trying to do?’ I hiss through gritted teeth, fighting not to let go of my brother as painful shocks zap into my palm. I squeeze my knees hard against the terrodyl and clench my belly to stay on its back. Purple lightning flickers at the ends of Sparrow’s fingers. Last time I saw it, he was having a shaking fit. Hell’s teeth – please don’t let him have one now!

The beast panics, flapping in circles. Crackle-bolts throw off throw off get to nest-home!

Steady, steady, brave beast! I yell.

The lightning stabs into my wrist and I curse, moving my grip from Sparrow’s hand to his arm.

It’s the one he’s been cradling since we rescued him. There’s a loosening, and a gruesome crack-thunk as the arm flees its socket. Sparrow slides heavily off the terrodyl’s back and I grab for his other hand but miss. My blood thrums in my ears as I fight to keep hold of his arm. I hate the world for letting this happen when I’d almost got my brother safe. I swore to Ma that I’d always protect him, and I ent about to break my promise now.

The terrodyl flails wildly, plunging lower in the sky. I haul at Sparrow as hard as I can. Crow wedges a hand into his armpit and slowly starts lifting him up.

Sparrow’s almost back in the middle. The terrodyl rights itself, grumbling. It’s gonna be all right. It’s gonna be fine.

I’ve just let out a pinch of breath when a golden beam slices through the air, thumping into one of the beast’s huge wings. The wing crumples with a sickening crunch .

Then we’re plummeting; one screaming tumble-blur of arms, wings, teeth and legs.

The beast is falling.

Falling.

The world drops away.

Purple lightning splurts from Sparrow’s fingers into the sky, shocking him awake. I reach for him but the force of the wind thieves my strength. I can’t get us back onto the terrodyl, and the broken wing flaps loose as a sail.

My belly pulls free, lands in my throat. Nails tear at my wrist. Thaw-Wielder shrieks, digging her talons into my hair. Her chatter is torn by the falling and I can’t catch her words.

The terrodyl’s scream rips the world apart. He scrabbles at the air with claws like daggers.

It was a spear. My brain rings dully with knowing. We’ve been shot down. And now we’re falling into death like none of what’s happened even matters.

Everything turns oddly slow-but-fast, like the world’s rushing forwards and backwards in a sickly tangle and we’re strung up in the middle of it. A heavy silver mist settles, and a storm of spooked birds cranks through it towards us.

Bloodseekerssharptoothhuntershuntersfleefleequick! gabble the birds. Shouldbenestingnestingnesting!

I try to move but it’s like I’m stuck in a nightmare and my muscles don’t work.

Crow stretches his fingertips through the air and brushes my cheek. His mouth shapes words, but the wind punches my ears too hard for me to hear.

Mother , screams the terrodyl’s beast-chatter. Brothers. Nest-home. Wing hurtful, don’t let me go, get me home!

With the word home , all the sound in the world fades, in one heartbeat, like an explosion of nothing.

Are we dead?

The silver mist darkens into a pulsing shadow. A foggy tendril snakes away through the sky. Then the world speeds up again in a stuttering rush and our terrodyl crashes through the cloud. We plunge after it. A scream surges up my throat and the wind peels my eyelids back and I pedal my legs in the air and

SLAM.

I smash into a mess of sticky webbing that flings me up into the air with a sharp, wrenching jolt. I somersault

once,

twice,