Page 22 of Real Scale Blazer
“The offer of assistance stands,” he said quietly. “Whether you choose to accept it or not.”
She could feel his gaze burning into her back as she headed toward the palace workshop. The weight of it made her skin tingle, and she had to force herself not to look back. She wasn’t here for this. She wasn’t here for him. She had a job to do, and she’d do it alone, just like always.
An hour later, she’d gathered the necessary replacement parts and was making her way back up the mountain path. The alien sun had shifted position, casting long shadows across the ice. Fresh snow had begun to fall, dusting the ground with a fine powder that sparkled like diamond dust.
A faint tremor rippled through the ground, making loose rocks skitter down the cliff face. Quinn pressed herself against the rock wall, waiting for it to pass. The tremors had been getting more frequent lately, though no one seemed willing to tell her why. Every time she asked, she got vague answers about “natural cycles” and “ancient magic”—neither of which satisfied her scientific mind.
She reached her worksite without incident and began laying out her tools. The sooner she got her equipment running again, the sooner she could figure out what was causing these increasingly concerning geological disturbances.
“All right, Nova Aurora,” she muttered, calibrating a new sensor. “Let’s see what secrets you’re hiding.”
The ground shuddered again, stronger this time. Quinn froze, her hand hovering over a wrench. Something felt different about this tremor. The vibrations were deeper, more rhythmic. Warning bells went off in her mind.
The shaking intensified suddenly, violently. Cracks spider-webbed across the ice beneath her feet. Quinn scrambled to grab her equipment, but the ground lurched, tilting her away, sliding toward the cliff edge. She lunged for her pack, but her boots lost traction on the ice.
EIGHTEEN
Time seemed to slow as Quinn felt herself sliding toward the edge of a massive crevasse that had opened in the glacier. Her fingers scrabbled for purchase on the smooth ice, but found nothing to grip. The yawning chasm gaped below her, bottomless and dark.
“Should have taken the help, should have taken the help,” she chanted, heart pounding as she slid closer to the edge. “Stupid pride, stupid ice, stupid?—”
A shadow passed overhead, followed by a rush of displaced air. Something massive swooped down from above—something with scales that gleamed like polished silver and sapphire in the alien light.
Powerful claws wrapped around her waist, plucking her from the edge of disaster with surprising gentleness. Quinn’s stomach dropped as she was lifted into the air, her feet dangling above the dizzying drop she’d nearly fallen into.
She found herself staring into an enormous eye the color of glacier ice, with a vertical pupil that contracted as it focused on her. Kai’s dragon form was magnificent and terrifying—easily the size of a small passenger plane, with wings that blocked out the sun as they beat the air.
Without warning, he deposited her onto his broad back between two ridges of metallic scales. Quinn grabbed hold instinctively as he banked away from the unstable cliff face, powerful wings carrying them higher into the crisp mountain air.
“Oh my god,” she breathed, momentarily forgetting her pride in the face of pure wonder.
The view was breathtaking. From this height, she could see the full majesty of Nova Aurora’s landscape—vast purple forests, winding rivers of luminescent blue ice, and mountain peaks that seemed to pierce the very sky. The cold wind whipped through her hair, but Kai’s scales radiated a pleasant warmth that kept the chill at bay.
Her heart raced, though whether from the near-death experience or the intimate contact with Kai’s dragon form, she couldn’t say. She could feel the play of powerful muscles beneath his scales as he soared through the air with practiced grace. It was... distracting.
“I had it under control,” she called out, though the words sounded hollow even to her own ears. “Mostly. Kind of. In theory.”
A rumbling sound vibrated through his scales—something between a laugh and a snort. The smug dragon was actually laughing at her.
“Oh, sure, laugh it up,” she muttered, patting his scales. “Not all of us can sprout wings when things get dicey.”
They descended toward the palace courtyard in a gentle spiral. Kai lowered to the ground with surprising delicacy for a creature of his size, allowing her to slide off his back. In a shimmer of magic that made her eyes water, his dragon form melted away, leaving him standing before her in his human shape.
“You’re welcome,” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting in a slight smirk.
Quinn crossed her arms, fighting the blush that threatened to color her cheeks. “I didn’t ask for your help.”
“No.” His eyes glinted with amusement. “But you needed it all the same.”
“I would have figured something out.”
“Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “And what was your plan, exactly?”
“I... would have thought of something brilliant at the last second. It’s kind of my specialty.”
“Of course.” He inclined his head, though his expression remained infuriatingly knowing. “I merely thought I’d... expedite the process. Save you the trouble of having to be brilliant.”
“Your concern is touching,” she said dryly, trying to ignore how her skin still tingled from where she’d been pressed against his scales. “But I don’t need a knight in shining armor. Or a dragon in shining scales, for that matter.”