Iron Flame (The Empyrean, #2)

by Rebecca Yarros

It is the valley above Riorson House, heated by natural thermal energy, that is its greatest asset. For there lie the original hatching grounds of the Dubhmadinn Line, from which two of the greatest dragons of our time—Codagh and Tairn—descend.

“Naolin didn’t fail, but it cost him everything.

I absorb that information with a long breath, wondering what reason Navarre would have to build lures besides using one to kill us in Resson.

“But the art of creating new wards is a lost magic, anyway, so it’s basically a glorified statue. Pretty to look at, though.”

“You’ll find I’m harder to block than most.”

“You survived a knife wound after being thrown into combat as a first-year,” she says to me. “I did.” She nods, a satisfied half smile curving her mouth for all of a heartbeat. “Maybe you’re more like me than I gave you credit for.”

That should be enough for you to keep your hands to yourself.” He leans in, his whisper barely reaching my ears. “But in case it’s not, every time you think of reaching for her face, I want you to remember one word.” “And what is that?” Dain seethes. “Athebyne.” Xaden pulls back, and the pure menace in his expression sends a shiver along my skin.

The one who believed everything she read with unfailing confidence, as if the simple act of writing something on a blank page made it gospel.

“Secrets die with the people who keep them,” he whispers, bringing his nose an inch from mine.

“No. I, unlike some people, don’t feel the need to know everything someone else deems private.”

“You. Are…” Imogen shakes her head as she catches up to me. “I see it now.” “What?” I ask. “Why Xaden fell for you.”

I don’t want us to have secrets, but he’s already made it clear that’s not changing. So maybe it’s time to try another tactic.

He lifts a brow, the mage lights catching on those royally green eyes. “Why else would I be here?”

The dagger closest to the door handle is hot and…tingling.

Clever. He’s so fucking clever. With the leaflets collected, every cadet in the room will question the exact wording. Every cadet except the riders who know the meaning of that entire paragraph came down to the placement of the word fire.

“Join me in welcoming back your fellow rider, Jack Barlowe!” Markham claps.

But she’s not a direct descendant, so I don’t have to worry about going mad like those whose dragons bond in the direct familial line. Dragons aren’t supposed to even get close to family lines for that exact reason—like they listen to human rules.”

“If he already knows what Violet showed me, then I’m the one disappointed in him,” Dain counters, picking up his sword and raising it at Varrish.

“Who do you think left the news about Zolya all over Battle Brief?” She nods. A smile lifts my mouth. She’s exactly who I’ve always thought she is.

“That’s because Andarna stopped time, but she can’t do that anymore, so I’m left with what got us through the other portion of the battle—the good old strike-and-pray method.”

“Wonderful.” He laughs, the sound deep and…infuriating. “You just might wield the most devastating signet on the Continent, but you know nothing about it. Nothing about the energy fields that draw it. Instead of shooting your power like an arrow—precise and measured—you’re just heaving it around like boiling oil, hoping you hit something. And lightning comes from the sky or the ground depending on the storm, so why not your hands?”

“He hunted riderless wyvern, deposited them on Melgren’s front door, and exposed Navarre’s greatest secret to the border outposts before noon,” Felix agrees. “But you were the one who demanded he give the cadets a choice. In that moment, you wielded him, our unyielding, uncompromising, headstrong heir apparent.”

The scorch mark behind him. The untouched boulders. The blast sites across the ridge. They all capture my attention. He’s right. I’m a light show with deadly consequences, and the amount of times I’ve unleashed while close to my friends, close to Xaden… My throat tightens. I’m the menace everyone thinks Xaden is.

I reach for the buckle of Dain’s belt

The problem with mankind is we too often find our souls to be a fair price for power.

“We do not eat our allies,” Tairn lectures. “Find another snack.”

“He wants you to teach him how to sign,”

Every rider looks at me. “They’re powered by the excess magic both we and our dragons channel,” I answer.

“Runes,” Professor Trissa confirms. “Runes aren’t just decorative. They’re strands of magic pulled from our power, woven into geometric patterns for specific uses, then placed into an object, either for immediate work or usage at a later date. We call the process ‘tempering.’”

That rune will activate when triggered and perform whatever action it was tempered for.

The lock!!

“‘I’ll answer any question you ask,’” I mock under my breath. It’s hard to ask questions I don’t even know exist.

“Or dies,” Aaric adds. The fliers collectively gasp, and the majority of us roll our eyes. They wouldn’t last a day at Basgiath.

Guess nothing unites foes like a common enemy,

“This is for Luella.”

Fucking eye roll jesus

Holy shit. She fights like Xaden. He trained both of us.

Once again, eye roll

“My house. My chair. My woman.”

and more importantly for implying there’s any other future besides the one where you and I are endgame.”

“Sorry to inconvenience you, but this year the role of Violet Sorrengail”—he points to me—“will be played by Xaden Riorson”—he taps his chest—“who will drag her, kicking and screaming if he has to, into a real relationship with real discussions, because he refuses to lose her again. If I have to evolve, you do, too.” He folds his arms across his chest.

“What?” she snaps. “That trick you mentioned? You know, with the fingers?” A slow smile spreads across my face. “Thanks.”

“Good idea. I could use a snack.” Andarna’s tone is indecently excited.

“I need your help.” “All right.” He nods without waiting for an explanation. And just like that, I remember why he used to be one of my favorite people on the Continent.

Dain redemption storyline incoming

“Then I’ll trust him as much as you do.”

iron flame…

we’ve finally made enough to equip every rider in Aretia with multiple daggers.

“Damn,” Cat says, glancing from the torch, to the conduit, to me. “I hate that you’re so…” “Badass?” Sloane suggests, smiling in a way that reminds me of her brother. “Powerful,” Cat admits,

“Second signets only happen when a dragon bonds a rider in the direct familial line as its previous,”

“Love, you’re the smartest person I know. If you actually wanted the answers, you’d ask the right questions.”

Battle brief

“What’s your second signet?”

I just can’t figure out why Sgaeyl was allowed to choose you, how she got away with it. How you both did.”

why wouldn’t they protect more of Navarre if they could?”