“I knew you’d make the right choice,” Sgaeyl says, glancing toward where Xaden approaches with Liam, their footsteps dangerously close to the cliffside at my left. “He did, too. Even if he doesn’t like you putting yourself in danger, he knew you would.”
“Well, he knows me a great deal better than I know him.” I lift a brow at her.
She blinks. “You’re a far cry from the trembling girl who stood in the courtyard and tried to mask her fear after Parapet. I approve.”
“I wasn’t asking for your approval.” If I’m going to die, I might as well be honest in my last moments.
She chuffs and nudges Tairn’s head with hers, but he’s solely focused on the trading post.
The rocky terrain crunches under my boots as I walk beneath Tairn to where Andarna stands between his forelegs, watching the attack unfold beneath us. I put myself right in front of her, blocking her view of what has to be carnage. “Stay here and hide.” I’m not taking a kid into battle, period.
“‘Stay here,’” she grumbles sarcastically in response.
I bite back a sad smile. It’s really too bad I won’t get to see her go through her rebellious adolescent years.
“Agreed.” Tairn dips a shoulder for me. “You’re a target, little one.”
“I mean it,” I order Andarna, stroking my hand over her scaly nose. “If we’re not back by morning, or if you think venin are approaching, you fly home to the Vale. Get behind the wards no matter what.”
Her nostrils flare. “I’m not leaving you.”
My chest hurts so badly, I fight the urge to rub the area above my heart, but I square my shoulders instead. It has to be said. “You’ll feel the moment when you’ll know that there’s nothing to leave. And it might break your heart, but when you feel it, you fly. Promise me you’ll fly.”
Heartbeats pass before Andarna finally nods.
“Go,” I whisper, stroking her beautiful jaw one last time. She’ll be fine. She’ll make it back to the Vale. I can’t let myself believe any differently.
She turns around and heads for the outpost, and I pull my shit together and walk between Tairn’s forelegs, taking one last, quick look at the valley. Xaden and Liam stand to my right, doing the same.
A screech rends the air, and an enormous gray dragon emerges from a valley two ridgelines to the south…across the Poromish border. It tucks its two legs up under its massive body as it flies away from us, heading straight for Resson.
“Do we have a riot nearby?” Liam asks.
“No,” Xaden answers.
It’s as though the ground beneath my feet shifts.
I could have sworn I saw a riot of dragons across the border. Isn’t that what Mira said at Montserrat?
The dragon shrieks again, spewing a streak of blue fire down the mountainside, setting some of the smaller trees on fire before it reaches the plains where Resson stands. Blue. Fire.
No. No. No. “Wyvern.” My heart launches into my throat. “Xaden, it has two legs, not four. It’s not a dragon. It’s a wyvern.” Maybe if I say it a few more times, I’ll believe what I’m seeing.
Holy. Shit. Is this what leadership has been redacting?
They’re supposed to be myth, not flesh-and-blood beings. But then again, so are venin.
“Well, there went our air superiority,” Imogen says across from us, then shrugs. “Fuck ’em. They can die, too.”
“They have created abominations,” Tairn says, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
“Did you know?”
“I suspected. Why do you think I’ve been so hard on you during flight maneuvers?”
“You and I are going to have to work on our communication skills.”
“Guess we know all the details now,” Liam says.
“Anyone want to change their minds?” Xaden asks down the line. None of us answer.
“No? Then mount up.”
I walk toward Tairn’s shoulder as Xaden strides over to me.
“Turn around, Violence,” he orders, and I pivot, looking up at him. He unsheathes one of his daggers and slides it in the empty spot I have at my ribs. “Now you have two.”
“You’re not going to lecture me about staying safe in the outpost?” I ask, my emotions rioting at his nearness. He hid all of this from me, and yet my chest aches just looking at him.
“If I asked you to stay behind, would you?” His eyes bore into mine.
“No.”
“Exactly. I try not to pick fights I know I can’t win.”
My eyes flare. “Speaking of knowing you’ll win fights, General Melgren will know what’s happened here. He’ll be able to see the outcome of the battle even now.”
He shakes his head slowly and points to his neck, to the rebellion relic snaking around his throat. “Do you remember how I told you I realized it was a gift, not a curse?”
