“How is Andarna?” I ask him, taking my place between his forelegs and peeking over the stone-rimmed edge into the chamber where the wardstone sits a hundred feet below. “She’s not responding when I reach out.” “She’s been questioned by the elders, and her actions were found justifiable,” he answers. “But to slay another dragon is a heavy mark upon the soul, even when in defense of yourself or your rider.” “That’s why you only took his eye instead of killing him.” I stiffen as Xaden approaches, refusing to look his way as he moves into position with Sgaeyl.
