Page 36 of Forged Flight

He scratches the top of her head. Maple’s tail thumps happily against the grass.

“Aren’t you, Maple?” he coos. “Such a good girl!”

I can’t help but smile at them. Watching Micah be so sweet and caring with animals makes something warm bubble in my stomach.

“All right,” Micah says, breaking off a tiny piece of bacon and holding it above Maple’s nose, just out of reach. “Now, stay.”

Maple obeys, sitting patiently as I fasten the prosthetics into place. She doesn’t even flinch as I carefully guide her stumpy wings into the sockets and secure the buckles around them.

When I’ve finished, Micah grins proudly.

“Good job,” he tells Maple before tossing the piece of bacon into the air.

She snaps her jaws shut around it with impressive precision and swallows it whole. After finishing her snack, she takes a tentative step forward, her wings twitching at her sides.

Micah gives her an encouraging smile. “Go on, sweetheart.”

Maple crouches low, her front legs bending as her rear lifts into the air. Her prosthetics tremble against her sides, and she glances back at them, her eyes wide with uncertainty.

For a moment, my stomach sinks. I worry she’s about to tear them off and light them on fire again.

But then she takes another step and leaps into the air. Her prosthetics flap frantically, keeping her suspended just above the grass. She hovers there for a heartbeat, grunting in frustration as she beats her wings harder and kicks her legs.

“Come on, girl,” I whisper. “You got this.”

And suddenly, she rises.

Maple beats her wings and tilts her snout toward the sky, gaining speed. The rush of air from her wings blows through my hair, whipping the long strands across my face. She twists awkwardly in the air, still trying to find her balance, but goddess.

She’s really flying.

An excited squeal bursts from Micah beside me.

Maple swoops through the air, twisting and turning above the treetops. Sunlight catches the ruby-red scales along her back as she rides the wind, soaring higher and faster with every beat of her wings.

It’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.

I glance at Micah.

His face is glowing. His eyes shimmer behind his glasses, his mouth curved into a smile so wide it makes my chest ache.

“She’s doing it,” he breathes.

“Aye.”

Her tail swings wildly behind her as she flies higher, wings beating faster with every stroke. She clears the fence, wobbles for half a heartbeat, then catches the wind and surges forward. With a delighted chirp, she makes a beeline for the woods, her prosthetic wings flashing in the autumn sunlight as she disappears among the orange-topped trees.

My smile disappears.

“Oh, shit.” Micah grabs my arm. “She’s coming back, right?”

I stare after the tiny red shape disappearing between the trees.

“Maple!” Micah calls, his voice edged with panic.

For several seconds, there’s nothing.

Maple swoops toward us, her wings beating furiously as she descends. Her tongue hangs from the side of her mouth, and I swear she looks like she’s smiling.