Читать книгу A Realm of Shadows - Morgan Rice - Страница 7

Kyra braced herself as she walked into a field of fire. The flames rose to the sky then lowered just as quickly, turning all different colors, caressing her as she walked with her arms out by her sides. She felt its intensity, felt it enveloping her, wrapping her in a thin embrace. She knew she was walking into death, and yet she could walk no other way.

And yet somehow, incredibly, she did not feel pain. She felt a sense of peace. A sense of her life ending.

She looked out and through the flames, she saw her mother, awaiting her somewhere at the far end, on the opposite side of the field. She felt a sense of peace, as she finally knew she would be in her mother’s embrace.

I’m here, Kyra, she called. Come to me.

Kyra peered into the flames and could just make out her mother’s face, nearly translucent, partially hidden as a wall of flame shot up. She walked deeper into the crackling flames, unable to stop until she was surrounded on all sides.

A roar cut through the air, even above the sound of the fire, and she looked up and was in awe to see a sky filled with dragons. They circled and shrieked, and as she watched, one huge dragon roared and dove down just for her.

Kyra sensed it was death coming for her.

As the dragon neared, its talons extended, suddenly the ground dropped out beneath her and Kyra found herself falling, hurtling down into the earth, an earth filled with flame, a place from which she knew she would never escape.

Kyra opened her eyes with a start, breathing hard. She looked all around, wondering where she was, feeling pain in every corner of her body. She felt the pain in her face, her cheek swollen, throbbing, and as she slowly lifted her head, finding it hard to breathe, she found that her face was encased in mud. She was, she realized, lying face first in the mud, and as she placed her palms in it and slowly pushed up, she wiped mud back from her face, wondering what was happening.

A sudden roar ripped through the air, and Kyra looked up and felt a wave of terror as she spotted something in the sky that was very real. The air was filled with dragons of all shapes and sizes and colors, all circling, screeching, breathing fire into the air, filled with fury. As she watched, one swooped down and breathed a column of flame all the way to the ground.

Kyra looked over and took in her surroundings, and her heart skipped a beat as she realized where she was: Andros.

It all came rushing back to her. She had been flying atop Theon, racing back to Andros to save her father, when they had been attacked in the sky by that flock of dragons. They had appeared from nowhere in the sky, had bitten Theon, had thrown them down to the ground. Kyra realized she must have blacked out.

Now she woke to a wave of heat, of awful shrieking, of a capital in chaos, and she looked about and saw the capital aflame. Everywhere, people were running for their lives, shrieking, as fire descended in waves, like a storm. It looked as if the end of the world had come.

Kyra heard labored breathing, and her heart fell to see Theon lying close by, on his side, wounded, blood pouring from his scales. His eyes were closed, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, and he looked on the verge of death. The only reason they were still alive, she realized, was that she and Theon were covered in a mound of rubble. They must have been thrown into a building, which collapsed on top of them. At least that had kept them sheltered, out of view of the dragons high above.

Kyra knew she had to get herself and Theon out of there at once. They hadn’t much time until they were spotted.

“Theon!” she urged.

She turned and heaved, crushed by the rubble, and finally managed to shove a huge piece of rubble off her back, freeing herself. She then hurried over to Theon and frantically shoved at the mound of rubble atop him. She was able to push off most of the rocks, yet as she shoved at the large boulder on his back, pinning him down, she got nowhere. She shoved again and again, yet no matter how hard she tried, it would not budge.

Kyra ran over and grabbed Theon’s face, desperate to rouse him. She stroked his scales, and slowly, to her relief, Theon opened his eyes. Yet he then closed his eyes again, as she shook him harder.

“Wake up!” Kyra demanded. “I need you!”

Theon’s eyes opened again, slightly, then turned and looked over at her. The pain and fury in his eyes softened as he recognized her. He tried to shift, to get up, but clearly he was too weak; the boulder pinned him down.

Kyra shoved the boulder furiously, yet she broke down crying as she realized they could not get it to move. Theon was stuck. He would die here. And so would she.

Kyra, hearing a roar, looked up and saw a massive dragon with spiked green scales had spotted them. It roared with fury, then began to dive right for them.

Leave me.

Kyra heard a voice reverberating deep inside her. Theon’s voice.

Hide. Go far from here. While there is still time.

“No!” she cried, shaking, refusing to leave him.

Go, he urged. Or else we will both die here.

“Then we shall both die!” she cried, a steely determination overtaking her. She would not abandon her friend. Not ever.

The sky darkened and Kyra looked up to see the huge dragon diving down, talons extended. It opened its mouth, rows of sharpened teeth showing, and she knew she would not survive. But she did not care. She would not abandon Theon. Death would take her. But not cowardice. She did not fear dying.

Only not living well.