Jim Gem's Arc

Chapter 9 of 23

For a week now the routine held. Each morning Jim climbed to the top of the waterfall with Lena. She sat on the wet rock, guarding the path, while he pushed the wolf into bigger shapes. Each night they walked back to the loft and slept tangled together. Her touch anchored him by day. Her warmth anchored him by night. He had never felt so steady. But steady was not the dragon, and the dragon was why he came. Today he climbed higher than the ledge. He stood at the very lip of the cascade, where the water poured off in a bright sheet. Below, the fall dropped clean and roared into white foam. Lena stood behind him, one hand on his back. "You sure about this spot?" she asked. Her voice stayed light, but her fingers dug in. "I need the drop," Jim said. "If I catch the dragon, I need room to open wings." "And if you don't catch it?" "Then you pull me back. Same as always." Lena's jaw tightened. She didn't joke this time. She just nodded and pressed her palm flat between his shoulders. Jim closed his eyes. He built the shift slow, the way the lynx had taught him. Wolf first. Then bigger. His bones stretched. His skin pulled tight and split into scales. Black and purple scales bled up his arms. Farther than he had ever gone. His heart slammed. The old panic rose, the leap that always broke him. Then Lena's hand moved on his back. Small circles. Warm through the scales. His heart slowed. He did not break. He held. For three heartbeats Jim wore something new. Long neck. Clawed feet gripping stone. Wings half-open, catching spray. A dragon, small and glowing, black and purple as the legends said. He heard Lena gasp behind him. Then the weight came all at once. The form was too big for him yet. His legs buckled. He tipped forward over the edge. "Jim!" Lena grabbed his wing, both hands, and hauled. He fell back onto the rock, human again, gasping. Scales melted to skin. She landed on top of him, still gripping his arm, breathing hard. For a moment neither moved. Water thundered beside them. Then Jim started to laugh. "I held it," he said. "Lena, I held the dragon." She stared at him. Her face had gone still, the way it did when she watched him shift. Not scared. Just quiet. "You almost went over," she said. "You caught me." He touched her cheek. "You always catch me." But she didn't smile. She looked at the edge, then at her own hands. "Three seconds and it dropped you," she said. "Next time it'll be longer. Higher. One day I won't be able to pull you back." Jim's laugh faded. He knew she was right. He had touched the dragon. Now he had to learn to fly it before it flew him off the cliff.