Raffe looks like he wants to be stubborn but then says, ‘Fine, but you’d better bring back a bunch of hellions, Howler.’

‘You can count on it, boss.’ Howler throws us a broad wink, and takes off into the air. Cyclone and Thermo fly after him.

The rest of the Watchers take off in small groups, each taking different directions. It’s a wonder that they can still fly on their mangy wings. I guess there’s nothing functionally wrong with the wings since they fly expertly. It’s just that they’re not pretty to look at.

Raffe watches them go, then looks at me. ‘Shall we go for a ride and see what the place looks like?’

I nod, trying not to look embarrassed.

I step closer to Raffe. I’ll never get used to stepping into his arms.

Instead of putting his arm under my knees, he holds me up with his arms around my waist, with us facing each other in a hug. With a couple of sweeps of his wings, we take off.

I have my arms around his neck, but my legs are dangling. I don’t feel as secure as I normally do when he holds me with his arms behind my back and below my knees. I instinctively slide my knees around his middle and squeeze for a better hold.

But that’s not enough. As we go higher, I can feel myself sliding just a little. His arms around my waist are firm, but as we rise above the Sea of Killing Hands, I feel an equal mix of excitement and fear.

‘Don’t drop me.’ I cling tighter and press myself up against him a little more.

‘Never.’ There’s so much confidence and assurance in his voice. ‘I have you. You’re as secure as can be.’

Oh, what the hell. I wrap my legs completely around his hips and hook my feet across his butt.

He tilts his body forward a little with a smile spreading across his face. My cheeks flame.

Now I’m hanging on like a monkey as we glide over the Pit. I can’t see as well as I’d be able to if he had been holding me the other way. Instead of looking over his shoulder at his sweeping wings, I turn my head to see the landscape below. That puts my face almost lip to lip with his.

I try to focus on the smoldering city ahead of us, but my head is filled with the warmth of his breath and the electric tingle of his cheek against mine.

Flying is not as smooth a glide as it might look from below. There’s a subtle shifting of our bodies as his wings push against the air. I’m hanging on to him so tightly that I begin to notice that he’s rubbing against me with every whoosh of his wings.