Raven Girl

Chapter 21

Nadine woke that morning cold, damp and stiff, but still alive. It hadn't eaten her in the night. She untangled herself from the bracken and stretched, then examined her leg. The grey film had gone, but her bones felt stronger. She tried walking. Her leg was wobbly, and hurt very much, but it was a massive improvement from the day before. She rooted through her pack, sorting out her weapons and planning her next steps.

The most important one: keep feeding the dragon. She would keep it fed so it wouldn't turn to her out of hunger. She wondered if it would fly away soon. It was still asleep, and dew clung to its scales in a sheen.

Nadine created herself a shelter. She found a fallen tree, half of which was rotted away, and lashed branches together with rope to create a wall that would cover her. She scraped wet leaves out of the inside and decided to go and find something dry to line the floor with once the sun burned the dampness of the night away. She dumped her pack inside and armed herself with knives and her bow.

The dragon was waking up.

"Are you going to leave soon?" Nadine asked it, keeping her voice to a low murmur. "Gonna go back to Ravenna to destroy buildings and eat people?" It shook water from its wings.

Something black shot out of the sky and dive-bombed the dragon. Nadine gasped at the sound of the familiar croak – it was Kutkh. To her amazement, the dragon snapped playfully at the bird as Kutkh darted away again. He glided into Nadine's lap and she clutched him to her chest.

"Oh, gods," she whispered, but Kutkh wasn't shaking with fright. The raven wasn't even spooked. Nadine stared as he began preening himself. She felt utterly nonplussed. Then she looked at the dragon. "What are you creatures really like?" She felt like everything she'd been told, every story and legend and assumption her country had made about the dragons... was a lie. "Are you horrors? Or are you just animals?"

Dangerous animals. Like wolves. Ravenous.

Nadine left Kutkh at the tree and went in search of food. She found a bush of lingonberries and picked it clean, but there wasn't much in terms of game. The hollow was quite small, and she didn't want to risk climbing the cliff until she was sure her leg could take it. She shot two geese down as they burst from the trees.

"One for the monster, and one for me," she said, wondering if she was going crazy as she picked them up and pulled the arrows out. She hoped it wouldn't snatch both out of her hands. But no – when she returned, the dragon waited for her to throw one of them at it before eating.

Nadine collected dry wood and made a fire – the dragon watched the flames closely – then ate her goose along with the berries. She felt new strength coursing through her, and drained her flask of water. She'd have to look for more soon.

That night, Nadine stayed up, watching the moon and the stars unfurl themselves. This made her feel more comforted. She'd been told since childhood that the darkness meant she was safe from daylight horrors, that the night was the best time.

She'd also been told that the monsters would tear her limb from limb if she ever saw one, but she'd decided to take her childhood lessons with a pinch of salt.

Nadine went in search of water. She'd left it too late, and her tongue felt like sandpaper. She crunched through the undergrowth until she reached the opposite end of the hollow, where she uncovered a pond. Stagnant water – she'd need to purify it, boil it, which brought on a sigh. But she filled the flask up and gazed at the rippling night sky reflected in the pool, lingering on the very edge of the bank.

Something huge soared over her head, and the stars were blotted out as the dragon plunged it. Nadine cried out as icy water doused her. Her feet slipped. She fell in and the cold hit her like a punch. She churned the water frantically, expecting to be attacked as her foot brushed against scales –

She forced herself to calm down, keeping her head above the water. The dragon. It was... paddling. It dunked its muzzle under and let its mouth fill with water. She was so close to it, she saw its throat move as the water went down its oesophagus.

Nadine swallowed. She was swimming with a dragon in the moonlight. Shivers wracked her – cold or fear, it was hard to tell. Nadine hesitantly brushed a hand against its flank.

The dragon shied away, snapping its jaws and rumbling. She flinched, throwing herself back against the bank and hauling herself onto it.

"Sorry," she breathed. She watched it sink into the water, entirely out of sight, for a moment. It emerged again and surged out, water streaming from it in rivers. It padded along the bank and sat down beside her.

Nadine felt the silence stretch on into minutes. She didn't want to move, and it seemed still and quiet, too. Her heart was pounding – she was sure the dragon could hear. Its ears flickered, disguised beside the ebony spines that came out of the back of its skull.

Nadine decided that she had a death wish. She showed the dragon her palm – it swivelled its head to look at her.

"I'm not going to hurt you," she said steadily. Like I could if I wanted to.

Its pupils dilated as it took her in in the semi-darkness. Amber, Nadine realised, not gold. In some lights its irises looked orange – in others, green. Right now they were dim, like burnt copper.

It touched the tip of its nose to her palm. She clenched her free hand in the mud, grabbing a fist of grass to try and steady herself. Its breath was almost unbearably hot against her skin, but its tiny face scales were cold. Its eyes pierced her own, boring into her. Can it see into my soul? she found herself wondering.

Then it turned away and padded back to its sleeping area, and the spell of stillness was broken. Nadine wiped mud from her hand and let the dragon settle down before racing to the fire. She nearly moaned as heat washed over her, and quickly changed into clean clothes. Her skin began to dry. She cut the remaining goose meat into strips and packed it away, then sat and stoked the fire, gazing into the flames for a long, long time.

All her life, the only thing she'd known was the terror of the unseen flying beasts. She felt her old reality crumbling around her. Could she find a way to live with the animals? What if Ravennans didn't need to hide in darkness forever? What if...?

No. She thought of Kostin. He wanted her head – she was a thief, a criminal. No one in Ravenna would listen to her. Had she really thought she could change things, make her nation better? It was a foolish notion.

The dragon changed nothing. Soon it would leave, and so would she, and they would never see each other again. All she would have would be a memory, and a fast-healed leg. She wondered if she'd bother catching up with Elias, Gylfi and Regina, or if it would be better to abandon them as they had abandoned her. Gavriil needed her more, after all.

Two more days passed. On the third morning, Nadine woke to the sound of people. She jerked awake and stuffed her sleeping bag in her pack, hooking it over one arm, ready to flee. She waited, her heart pounding, before peeking her head out of the shelter. On the top of the cliff, she could make out a group of Jötun hunters. They had rifles slung over their backs.

Nadine clamped her lips together to stop a cry as the dragon's teeth fastened on the back of her tunic. It lifted her into the air, twisted its head around – and dropped her onto its back, in between its shoulders, on either side of those unfurling wings.

"No," Nadine gasped, but she was already too far from the ground, it was straightening its legs – she grabbed its scales. "No, no, no!"

The dragon beat its wings. It lifted from the floor for the first time since she'd stabbed it. Nadine felt panicked – she had to jump off, now – but it was too late.

They shot into the sky, flying past the hunters who yelled and scrambled away. Branches scraped Nadine's face. The forest treetops fell away and oblivion opened up around her.