Silver Dragon Codex by R.D. Henham

the thick silk of her hair.
    Belen lay down upon the ground, poising her foreleg so that they could easily climb up to her back. Jace and Cerisse managed it easily and helped Ebano along. The hypnotist settled his thick purple robes about him, muttering softly in his foreign tongue as he patted the dragon’s scales. Running his hand along her neck, Jace noticed she was softer than he’d thought. The scales looked as hard and cold as metal shields, but they were soft to the touch, like buttery leather, and the thin ruff of silver hair that trailed down the back of her neck was finer than spider silk. “Everyone aboard?” Belen twisted her head around to look, and Jace gave her a thumbs-up.
    “If you need to land along the way, feel free,” he told her. “You haven’t done this in a while.”
    “Don’t worry, Jace. We’ll be fine,” she rumbled, stretching her wings. “You’re not the only one who can work without a net.”
    Belen rose to a crouch, lifting her wings high. Although Jace and the others were ready, he’d never felt anything like the massive weight of force when Belen hurled herself up from the ground. A single pumping beat of her wings propelled them high into the air, over the trees and ruinedbuildings in a tremendous leap. Cerisse squealed in sudden panic, clutching Jace, and Ebano laughed aloud. Jace grabbed the silver frill in front of him and hung on for all he was worth. The world swung and pitched beneath them, then fell away to mist.

C HAPTER S EVEN
    lying on a dragon’s back was a lot like the first time he walked alone on a tightrope, Jace thought, as the wind streamed in his hair. There was the rush of adrenalin, with one foot on a thin wire and one hovering a hundred feet above the ground, shifting in the winds of chance. Balance shifted unpredictably, tilting with each swoop of the dragon’s wings. Sometimes, when Belen went down to avoid a gust of wind, it felt as if there were nothing keeping him aloft—but then, with a startling rush, gravity returned, and the thick solidity of the dragon’s body lifted him up again.
    Below them, the forest sped past in a blur of green and brown, trees and hillocks smearing together. He felt Cerisse’s hands on his waist, and he heard her soft squeaks when the dragon suddenly changed altitude. Though he couldn’t tell if Ebano was behind him, he hadn’t seen any lumpy purple robes spinning to the ground below them either. He’d just have to hope for the best.
    They’d been flying for more than an hour, sailing sometimes north and sometimes south along a western horizon as Belen looked for trees, hills, rivers—anything she might recognize. Occasionally she would turn in wide spirals, staring down at a particular landmark until Jace thought he’d fall off. Then Belen would straighten in the air with a cry and shoot off with renewed speed. She couldn’t swoop beneath the trees as they were too close together, but occasionally she would fly so close to them that their uppermost branches smacked against Jace’s boots.
    Suddenly she cried out, the rich trumpet of the dragon’s voice breaking through the rush and bluster of wind. She glanced back at them, snaking her head back and then forward on her strong neck and angling her wings to make for a tall ridge that rose out of the deepest forest. Jace strained his eyes, trying to see what had caught the dragon’s attention. A tower rose from the top of the hillside, a tower unlike any that Jace had ever seen or even dreamed might exist. The tower’s thick gateway was arched and turreted, wide enough for a dragon to walk among the beautifully carved stone. The tower itself was much taller and wider than a human habitation, rising on a massive foundation to admit a draconic body within the safe confines of its walls.
    On first sight, it was beautiful: glittering white marble sheltered by clinging ivy and softly shimmering willow trees growing close to the base. But as they grew closer, Jace