Page 151 of Reign

“Ow!” Billy yelped as my heel struck him.

We exited the castle through the same portcullis that Wolver had led us through many days earlier, moving along the familiar wall walk that stretched high above the sea.

Fitzroy pressed his fingers into his mouth and blew an almighty whistle with his hands. The noise reverberated across the waves, and through the fog emerged the glimmer of silver scales.

Greyclaw swiftly landed before us—his enormous talons broke off fragments of stone and sent chunks of granite hurtling into the waters below.

“Quick,” Fitzroy urged, lifting my skirt to pull Billy out from beneath it.

I gripped Greyclaw’s spikes as Fitzroy heaved me upward, his hands firmly pinching the backs of my thighs. With great effort, I swung a leg over the wyvern’s sturdy neck and secured my position. Then Fitzroy focused on Billy, seizing the goblin by his underarms and lifting him toward me. I reached out to grasp his outstretched arms, assisting him aboard.

“Hurry!” I called, concealing Billy beneath my cloak.

Before Fitzroy could use the wyvern’s spikes to haul himself up, I caught a glimpse of silver from the corner of my eye.

“Nephew,” Regina called as she approached.

Fear rushed through me, my skin turned clammy, and sweat beaded along my brow as though I were basking in the sweltering midday sun.

Keeping Billy hidden beneath my cloak, I pressed a hand firmly over his mouth to stifle any attempt to cry for help.

“I trust you’ll rally your army to fight in my name?” Regina asked.

Fitzroy nodded firmly. “Yes, my Queen.”

Regina extended her hand toward me. Hesitantly, I unmuffled Billy to take it.

“If you betray me, you’ll regret it,” she warned, her gaze piercing mine with unnerving intensity.

I shuddered.

After her parting remark, Regina released my hand. Wasting no time, Fitzroy mounted Greyclaw, taking the front seat with Billy secretly nestled between us.

Regina watched our departure vigilantly as Fitzroy tugged firmly on the wyvern’s reins. Greyclaw ascended, his mighty wings carrying us into the skies.

I kept my eyes fixed on the wall walk below, watching Regina until the castle disappeared beneath the clouds.

Niamh Smith.

“Cannot breathe,” Billy mumbled from his hiding spot.

After we’d flown a safe distance from the castle, I shifted my cloak to allow Billy to emerge from its folds. He gasped for air, his blue eyes blinking rapidly as they adjusted to the light. He drew another sharp breath—not from near suffocation this time, but at the wondrous sight.

“Magnificent,” he mumbled underneath his breath.

The sun’s glow spilled across the horizon, bleeding into the bruise-colored clouds while the sea shimmered as if forged from molten quicksilver. Billy’s mouth hung agape in awe until Greyclaw began our descent toward the shores of Cambas.

In an instant, the serene seascape morphed from breathtaking beauty to a breath-snatching tempest. The unforgiving squalls of rain must have been the work of a grief-stricken Regina. As we neared the sands, the blare of a trumpet pierced through the storm—a warning cry to the knights and soldiers that we were approaching.

Something whizzed over my shoulder—heavier than a raindrop. At first, I thought it was hail spitting from the skies. Then I realized it wasn’t falling from above, but shooting up from below.

“Take cover!” Fitzroy yelled, swooping and weaving Greyclaw to avoid the projectiles.

Billy tucked himself between our bodies—small and safe—while all I could do was cling to Fitzroy, eyes squeezed shut, hoping what I didn’t see couldn’t hurt me.

Inside the safety of my eyelids, I could taste the salt as we neared the shore—rain and arrows thrashing through the wind.

Feeling braver, I cracked open an eye and saw the black beach below.