Venin with red veins distending from their eyes, killing helpless people.
Blue fire. Desiccated land. Soleil and Fuil falling.
We’ll never be able to smuggle enough weaponry out to make a difference.
They’ve kept us in the dark, erased our very history to avoid conflict, to keep us safe while innocent people die.
Liam— Gods...Liam. I dig my mental fingernails into Dain and hold him there, making him feel it with me again, the helplessness. The chest-crushing sorrow. The eye-blurring rage.
It’s been my honor. Liam’s last words to me.
My vengeance in the sky, fighting along Tairn’s back, armed with the only weapon that will kill the dark wielder doing her best to slay my dragon and end me.
The moment the dagger slides into my side, I stop pulling Dain and start shoving, screaming both physically and mentally, filling my head with every ounce of pain that’s been inflicted upon me in the last four days.
Dain gasps, and his hands fall from my temples.
I throw my eyes open, the sound of my scream still echoing in my ears as he draws back, horror etched on every line of his face.
“I’m here,” Liam promises. “And I still don’t regret it, Vi. Not one second.” Wetness tracks down my cheeks.
“Did you get what you wanted?” I manage to ask through my shredded vocal cords.
“You’re smuggling weapons,” Dain says slowly, searching my eyes. “Stealing our weapons to aid another kingdom?”
My stomach sinks at my complete, absolute failure.
Out of everything I showed him, that’s what he took?
I wrench my gaze from his to look at Liam, memorizing the lines of his face and those trademark blue eyes. “I’m so sorry I failed you.”
“You never failed me. Not once,” he whispers, shaking his head. “We pulled you into our war. If anyone’s sorry, it’s me.”
“As you should be.” Varrish sneers.
If Dain has conquered my memory, seen the weapons runs I’ve helped with, then he knows it all. A wave of hopelessness rolls over, stealing my resolve, my determination not to break. All I have left inside of me is pain, and that isn’t worth fighting for, not if I’ve just given up everything—everyone—that means anything to me.
“They want us now!” the man shouts from the antechamber.
“Varrish,” Nora prompts. “It’s a summons for all leadership.”
“What did you find?” Varrish turns to Dain, losing his composure. “Where are they staging from?”
“Give me that knife,” Dain demands, holding out his hand. “I want to compare it to the one I saw in the memory. The ones they’re stealing from us.”
“Just don’t kill her. We need to find and question Riorson first, use her as leverage.” Varrish hands my dagger over to Dain.
He glances over the weapon and nods. “This is the one. They’re taking them out by the dozen, arming the enemy. I saw everything.” Brown eyes meet mine. “There’s at least one drift involved.”
My heart plummets. He knows. He saw despite my best efforts.
They’ll question me again—keep me prisoner to lure Xaden, even—but they’ll never let me leave here alive. This place I called home, the halls I walked with my father, the Archives I worshipped alongside the gods, the field where I flew with Tairn and Andarna, the halls where I laughed with my friends, and the rooms where Xaden held me will be my tomb.
And the boy I used to climb trees with along its river will be my demise.
I sag, the last of the fight draining out of me in defeat.
“Good. Good. Now tell me where they are,” Varrish orders.
Dain grips the dagger in his left hand, spinning it so the blade runs parallel to his forearm as he brings it to my throat. “You should have trusted me, Violet.”
I don’t dare to even swallow as I hold the asshole’s gaze. I won’t die afraid.
“None of this would have happened if you’d just trusted me.” The hurt in his eyes only feeds my rage. How dare he look wounded. “And now, it’s too late.”
“Varrish!” Nora yells as shouts fill the antechamber.
Varrish turns toward her, and I feel the knife slip against my skin.
Dain is going to kill me.
“You’re all right.” Liam steadies my shoulder. “I’ll be right here. I’m not going to leave you.”
Tairn. Andarna. Gods, I hope they survive it. Xaden has to live. He just has to.
I love him.
I should have told him every day, been honest about my feelings even through the fights and the doubt.
