Seconds later, Flint bucks his head back in a warning that I don’t understand and then shoots straight into the sky.

I scream again, louder this time, then wrap my hands around Flint’s throat in what could probably best be described as a death grip. If I don’t loosen up soon, it will probably end badly for both of us, but as he zooms to the very top of the castle, there’s nothing I can do about it.

So I just close my eyes, hold on, and pray I don’t fall off.

“Bugger this!” Hudson growls, and I realize he’s now sitting right behind me.

“What are you doing here?” I demand, even as a scream rises in my throat. “I thought you were comfortable on that step.”

“You do realize I’m actually in your head, right? So where you go, I go. It’s kind of a thing.”

“I know that. I just didn’t expect you to decide to ride Flint along with me. It doesn’t really seem your style.”

“As it turns out,” he answers stiffly, “I’ve never ridden a dragon before. I thought it would be…”

“Terrifying?” I ask as Flint does a vertical spin as he continues to fly higher.

“Fun.” The word comes out a little breathless, which I can totally understand. My breath is in my throat, too.

Thankfully, it turns out Flint can breathe even with my death grip, and he takes a few loops around the castle and the sky above it. It’s not exactly a flying lesson, but now that my brain is functioning again, I realize he’s just trying to relax me a little. Get me used to flying, even if it is on a dragon.

I’m positive it won’t work—it’s super scary flying around this castle that’s built on the side of a mountain—but eventually I manage to keep my eyes open for an extended period of time. And when I do, I nearly squeal in delight because, scary or not, it’s absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful up here.

The sky is crystal blue, the mountain is covered in glistening snow, and the castle looks like something out of a movie…or a dream. Its gray and black stones provide a startling contrast to the white snow, its parapets and towers stretching high into the bright blue sky.

Flint turns his long, majestic neck so he can glance back and check on me, and I hold on tight, expecting us to quickly drop back down to the ground.

But I totally underestimated Flint—big surprise—because instead of heading for the ground, he takes a tight turn in midair and heads straight up, up, up into the sky.

“Oh my God! What are you doing?” I screech, but he doesn’t so much as look back at me. Instead he just goes faster.

I expect Hudson to complain, but when I glance at him, he’s got a full-blown grin on his face. Then again, it’s not like he’s got the same fear of dying that I do…

We’re back to flying vertically now, and I bite back a scream as I hold on as tightly as I can with both my arms and my legs. Not going to lie, it’s completely terrifying. But it’s also exciting and exhilarating and the view—when I finally manage to pry my eyes open—is absolutely breathtaking.

A few years ago, I watched a documentary called The Art of Flight. It was about snowboarding in the most difficult and breathtaking locations in the world, and Denali was one of the places spotlighted in the movie. They took a helicopter up to some of the areas that are off-limits to normal climbers and skiers and made a big deal about walking in places where no other human being had ever been.

At the time, I hadn’t understood what the big deal was. But now, holding on to Flint as I get a dragon’s-eye view of those very areas, all I can think is, Of course.

Of course they wanted to see this place that so few people have ever seen.

Of course they wanted to capture it on film so others had a chance to feel what they felt.

Of course it’s worth anything—worth everything—to get here. Right here.

And suddenly, something wild inside me breaks free. It claws its way out of the deepest part of my soul, yearning toward the sky, toward the snow, toward freedom.

I gasp, because for that one second, my body wasn’t under my control. It belonged to something—to someone—else, and I don’t have a clue how to find my way back.

Of course, Flint chooses that moment to change direction, going into a deep dive that has the wind in my face and my heart in my throat. We’re racing down even faster than we came up, and as terror whips through me, whatever raised its head inside me settles back down.

I want to follow it, want to figure out if it’s the gargoyle or something else—something worse—but I can’t when every ounce of concentration I have is focused on hanging on to Flint and praying that we don’t crash.

We don’t, but because he’s Flint, he can’t resist doing a series of loop-the-loops in the middle of our dive. I’m not sure what it says about our speed that I don’t even have to worry about falling off, even when we’re upside down, because centrifugal force keeps me plastered to his back the entire time.

In fact, by the time his third set of somersaults comes around, I don’t even have to close my eyes. Instead, I just laugh with Hudson and enjoy the ride.

Eventually, he starts flying slowly by various architectural elements I recall from Mr. Damasen’s list. I pull my phone from my coat pocket and quickly snap several pictures of each feature as we fly by.

When I finish taking the last picture, I put my phone back in my pocket and zip it up. Flint gives me another quick look over his shoulder and, I swear, shoots me a surprisingly wicked grin, considering he’s a dragon. That’s the only clue I have to grip his neck tightly before he’s soaring back up into the sky again, spinning a bit as we go.

And then, when I think we can’t go any higher—he stops flapping his wings entirely.

We freeze in the sky for a split second without his strong wings pushing us forward, and my breath catches in my throat. I have an idea what he’s about to do next, and I can feel the scream building in my chest. But before I can open my mouth and set it free, Flint flips his large body in midair, and suddenly…we’re diving straight for the ground, wings tucked tight against his body as we continue to pick up speed.

I’m screaming like I’m on the scariest roller coaster ride in existence. Even Hudson gives a shout from behind me, his arms reaching around my waist and tugging me against his chest as though to protect me. And just like that, the wild thing deep inside me is set free again, and I’m laughing so hard, I can barely catch my breath.

At least until we get closer to the ground, because Flint’s showing absolutely no sign of slowing down despite the fact that the tree line is looming awfully close. My stomach clenches, and a quick glance behind me shows that even Hudson looks a little nervous. But Flint hasn’t steered us wrong yet, so I just take a deep breath and wait for whatever he’s going to do next.

What he does next, in fact, is pull up at pretty much the last second, sending us screaming back to the top of the castle as I laugh and laugh and laugh. Now Flint looks back at me, laughter in his own eyes as we do two quick spins around the school before finally coming in for the smoothest landing ever.

I manage to get off him pretty much the way I got on but in reverse, and seconds later, I’m back on the ground, standing on my own shaky legs.

There’s another shimmer, another air funnel, and a few seconds later, Flint is standing next to me in what’s left of his school uniform—which now is little more than a pair of ripped-up pants and half a button-down shirt missing all the buttons.

I take one look at him and start laughing, partly because of his clothes and partly because of the goofy smile on his face. It doesn’t take long before he’s laughing, too.

“So what’d you think?” Flint asks.

“It wasn’t quite the flying lesson I was anticipating,” I answer with a grin. “But it was so much fun.” And it’s true. For the first time since I turned human again, I feel completely, 100 percent myself. It’s a good feeling, one that has me holding on to Flint’s arm because I don’t want him to go. I don’t want him to take this feeling with him. “Did you have fun?”

“I really did. And you’re a natural.”

“Yeah, right. You rolled your eyes at me.”

He very deliberately rolls them again. “You couldn’t figure out how to get on my back.”

“Well, it’s not like dragons come with an instruction manual. It was difficult.”

“Apparently.” I stick my tongue out at him, but he just laughs. “Wanna do it again sometime?”

“Absolutely.” I take a second to go over my schedule in my head. Then suggest, “How about tomorrow morning? We could get the whole Ludares team together to meet and maybe practice for the tournament? And you can show me how to fly, using my own wings this time.”

“I like the way you think, New Girl. Meet you on the practice field at nine?”

“Make it ten. Macy’s not a morning person.”

He shakes his head. “Witches and vamps, man. They never are.” He glances toward the school. “You need me to walk you back to your room?”

“Nah, I’m good. But thanks, Flint.” I give him an impulsive hug. “You’re the best.”

“Not so much, New Girl.” This time his smile is tinged with just a little bit of sadness. “But I can’t wait to see you fly tomorrow. See if you can give me a run for my money.”

“Pretty sure a F-35 couldn’t give you a run for your money, but thanks for the compliment.” I give him a little wave, then head toward the stairs that lead up to the front entrance. As I go, I can’t help wondering what it is that keeps making Flint seem so sad when he thinks I’m not looking.

56

Just Shut Up

and Dance

I’m exhausted by the time I get back to my bedroom around eight. Macy tries to convince me to go hang out with some of her witch friends—they’re getting together for Netflix and facials—but the truth is, I’m too nervous about tomorrow to think about anything else.