"Of course it's safe," Augustine replied, fighting the giddy urge to laugh as Cassius surged into the air. The great wings stirred on either side and wind ripped past so quickly Augustine almost couldn't breathe -- and he did laugh, then, as thrilled as a five-year-old. He would never tire of flying, or of the sickening lurch in the pit of his stomach at each ascent, and the summer greenery rolling away like an emerald carpet far below never ceased to be beautiful. Yes, this was a good errand to bring Frey on. Anything that prompted Frey to think beyond himself was a worthwhile pursuit, determined though the boy was to hate everything and everyone.

Asbel, on the other hand, gasped as the dragon soared up and up and up -- and while he managed to keep from putting his arms around Frey's waist, he did twist his finger's into the flight harness at the younger prince's back, knuckles just as white as his rival's. He'd never flown before -- and certainly not this high. With the sorcerer's plucking his flight feathers, he'd only ever been able to hop and flutter like a glorified barn rooster. This height was dizzying, and the sun seemed brighter and warmer, even as the wind threatened to flay the skin from his bones. The ground flew past in a flurry of flowers, trees, and picturesque houses as small as child's toys, and despite himself, Asbel redoubled his hold on Frey's harness and leaned sideways to have a better view of the kingdom as he'd never seen it before.

"We'll be up here until after lunch," Augustine called over his shoulder, "and then we walk, so enjoy the ride while it lasts."