“If you don’t believe me, then check the wyvern you killed yesterday.” “And then what?” I ask. “Fix your wards.” She pulls a leather notebook from her jacket, and my eyes widen with recognition. “If you don’t, they’ll decline over time to nothing. Your father told me once that his research showed that Warrick never wanted anyone else to hold the power of the wards. He wanted Navarre to eternally hold the upper hand. But Lyra thought the knowledge should be shared.” “Warrick lied,” I whisper. But about what?
