Jim Gem's Arc

Chapter 10 of 23

The three heartbeats grew. By the fourth day at the lip of the fall, Jim held the dragon for six, then eight. His legs still shook, but they no longer folded. Lena counted each beat aloud from behind him, her hand flat on his scaled back. Yet holding was not flying. To fly he had to let go of the stone and trust the wings. He had not dared. Falling human off a cliff was one thing. Falling as a dragon he could not steer was another. "You keep gripping the rock," Lena said. She sat cross-legged on the wet stone, chewing a strip of dried apple. "My big scary dragon, still afraid of a little drop." "It's not the drop." Jim flexed his human hands. "If I open the wings wrong, I go straight down." "So open them right." She kissed his forehead. Her voice stayed light. Jim knew the joke covered fear. She had caught him a dozen times now. She had promised she would never run from him, and she never did. But her hands could not fly for him. This part he had to do alone. He built the shift slow. Wolf first, then bigger, scales climbing his arms black and purple. His heart slammed. He grew enormous! Lena's fingers drew small circles, and his heart eased. The dragon came. Long neck, clawed feet, wings spread wide into the spray. "Count for me," he said, the words rough in a new throat. "One," Lena said. "Two. Three." On four, Jim let go of the rock. His weight tipped forward over the roaring drop. Instead of clawing back, he threw the wings down hard against the air. He fell. The white foam rushed up. Then the wings bit. The fall bent into a curve. He was not dropping anymore. He was gliding, low over the pool, wind pouring under him. He beat the wings once more and rose. The trees shrank below. He turned, clumsy, wide, and came around toward the fall. Jim held the air for a long, wobbling loop. Then his strength drained fast. The wings grew heavy. He aimed for the ledge and came down hard, scattering spray, sliding on his claws. The dragon melted off him. He knelt there, human, soaked, shaking, alive. Lena crashed into him and held on. "You flew," she said before kissing him many times on his face. "Jim. You actually flew!" "I flew." He gripped her tight. Then he felt her go still against him, the way she did when something scared her. She pulled back and looked at his soaked jacket. On his bare chest under the necklace was a single black scale, glowing faint purple. It had not melted away with the rest. "Jim," she said quietly. "It didn't all come off."