Joe’s vision began to swim. In one final glimpse, he saw that Iggie was heading for the other side of the island. Distantly, he realised he was being dropped onto a rocky slope. He felt the pain as he sliced his skin on stony scree. Finally, he couldn’t see anything. As he slipped into uncon­sciousness, he heard Winter’s voice and her strong arms dragging him onto Iggie’s back.

‘You did it, Joe! You got the silverblue!’

He let himself loll there, exhausted, unable to move or speak, but he felt one arm around his waist, the dragon’s leap into flight and the beat of wings, and he knew Iggie and Winter would never let him fall.

163

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

This was not the plan. They were supposed to camp on the island and return the next day, refreshed by sleep and food. Instead, the exhausted dragons carried their injured people home to Arcosi, flying through the dusk. The sea was a vast darkness stretching out beneath them. There was a streak of orange light in the western skies, and the stars appeared one by one as the sky faded to inky black.

Joe slipped in and out of consciousness, sure that Winter’s iron grip round his waist kept him safe. Every time he jolted awake, his rope-blistered hands went to the sling round his chest, checking the silverblue was still there. At first, he could still see Ruby, carrying Milla and Thom, but soon they vanished in the night.

Finally Winter spoke into his ear, rousing him from a strange fitful slumber. ‘Joe! Wake up. We’re home. Careful now.’

He jerked into wakefulness. His shoulders were throbbing 164where Iggie had grabbed him; and even the slightest move­ment of his arms caused agony. He hissed at the pain, and tried to keep still, using his legs to hold on as Iggie started soaring down, towards the lights of Arcosi.

Iggie let the winds carry them past the island, and then they circled back, losing height fast. Joe clung on and prayed they’d land somewhere near a tunnel entrance. He wasn’t sure how far he could walk.

To his relief, it worked: perhaps Iggie felt his desperation.

The blue dragon landed, clumsily this time, only just missing some apple trees in the overgrown gardens of the shadow strip. Dragons’ night vision must be better than mine, Joe thought. Flares burned on the palace garden walls high above them, lending a faint orange tinge to the dark­ness, just enough to see by.

Wincing, careful of every move, he managed to swing his leg over Iggie’s ears and dismount. ‘Thank you. Oh, thank you, Iggie.’ He bowed his head in deep respect. ‘You saved my life.’

Milla’s dragon rumbled a response, deep in his vast rib­cage, and his wings folded down at last.

‘Here, there’s a well.’ Winter tumbled off and showed Iggie where he could drink. They heard the gulp and hiss as the blue dragon sucked down huge amounts of spring water. Winter ran her hands over his back, deep midnight-blue in the near-dark, whispering her thanks too.