Iron Flame (The Empyrean, #2)

by Rebecca Yarros

Revolution tastes oddly…sweet.

This might go down as the most surreal experience of my life. Brennan is alive. Venin, dark wielders I’d thought only existed in fables, are real. Brennan is alive. Aretia still stands, even though it was scorched after the Tyrrish rebellion six years ago. Brennan is alive. I have a new, three-inch scar on my abdomen, but I didn’t die. Brennan. Is. Alive.

And his one condition being me eating something before he takes me to my dragons? It’s the most Brennan move ever. Not that Tairn ever waits for permission, which means— “I, too, think you need to eat something.” Tairn’s low, arrogant voice fills my head.

“And what would you have done with the knowledge had he shared it?” Tairn asks. “Stop bringing logic into an emotional argument.” I fold my arms across my chest. It’s my heart that won’t fully let my head forgive Xaden.

Nausea rises like a tide. The War Games. We’re supposed to be finishing the last competition of the year between the wings of the Riders Quadrant at Basgiath, and instead, we entered deadly battle with an enemy I’d thought were only folklore last week, and now we’re…well, we’re here, in a city that isn’t supposed to exist. But not all of us. My throat tightens, and I blink back the burn in my eyes. Soleil and Liam didn’t survive. Liam. Blond hair and sky-blue eyes fill my memory, and pain erupts behind my ribs. His boisterous laugh. His quick smile. His loyalty and kindness. It’s all gone. He’s gone.

He shrugs as though his answer is obvious. “I’m here for the same reason you fought at Resson. Because I can’t stand by, safe behind the barriers of Navarre’s wards, and watch innocent people die at the hands of dark wielders because our leadership is too selfish to help. That’s also the reason I didn’t come home. I couldn’t fly for Navarre knowing what we’ve done—what we’re doing—and I sure as hell couldn’t look our mother in the eye and listen to her justify our cowardice. I refused to live the lie.”

“You just left Mira and me to live it.” It comes out a little angrier than I intend, or maybe I’m angrier than I realize. “A choice I’ve questioned every single day since.” The regret in his eyes is enough to make me breathe deeply and center myself. “I figured you had Dad—” “Until we didn’t.”

“Yeah, well, Dad always tried to tell us.” Brennan’s voice softens. “In a world of dragon riders, gryphon fliers, and dark wielders…” “It’s the scribes who hold all the power.” They put out the public announcements. They keep the records. They write our history. “Do you think Dad knew?” The idea of him structuring my entire existence around facts and knowledge, only to withhold the most important of it, is unfathomable. “I choose to believe he didn’t.” Brennan offers me a sad smile. “Word will get out the closer those forces come to the border. They can’t keep the truth hidden. Someone will see. Someone has to see.” “Yes, and our revolution has to be ready when they do. The second the secret is out, there’s no reason to keep the marked ones under supervision of leadership, and we’ll lose access to Basgiath’s forge.” There’s that word again: revolution.

“Just because no one knows how to create new wards today doesn’t mean the knowledge can’t exist somewhere. Like in the Archives. That’s information we wouldn’t have wiped. We would have protected it at all costs, just in case.” “Violet, whatever you’re thinking? Don’t.” He rubs his thumb along his chin, which has always been his nervous tell. Amazing the things I’m remembering about him. “Consider the Archives enemy territory. Weapons are the only thing that can win this war.” “But you don’t have a working forge or enough riders to defend yourself if Navarre realizes what you’re up to.” Panic crawls up my spine like a spider. “And you think you’re going to win this war with a bunch of daggers?” “You make it sound like we’re doomed. We’re not.” A muscle ticks in his jaw. “The first separatist rebellion was crushed in under a year, and up until a few days ago, I thought it took you, too.” He doesn’t get it. He can’t. He didn’t bury his family. “I’ve already watched your things burn once.” “Vi…” He hesitates for a second, then wraps his arms around me and pulls me into a hug, rocking slightly like I’m a kid again.

Something killed off the venin six hundred years ago during the Great War, and we’re actively searching for that weapon. Forging the daggers will keep us in the fight long enough to find it, as long as we can get that luminary. We might not be ready now, but we will be once Navarre catches on.”

“Ah.” Brennan shoots me a look I can’t quite interpret. “I wondered why he ran out of here like his ass was on fire. Trouble in paradise?” I flat-out glare at Brennan. “It’s best if you don’t know that.” He chuckles. “Hey, I’m asking my sister, not Cadet Sorrengail.” “And you’ve been back in my life all of five minutes after faking your death for the last six years, so excuse me if I’m not going to suddenly open up about my love life. What about you? Are you married? Kids? Anyone you’ve basically lied to for the entirety of your relationship?” He flinches. “No partner. No kids. Point made.” Shoving his hands into the pockets of his riding leathers, he sighs. “Look, I don’t mean to be an ass. But details aren’t anything you should know until you master keeping your shields up at all times against memory readers—” I cringe at the thought of Dain touching me, seeing this, seeing Brennan. “You’re right. Don’t tell me.” Brennan’s eyes narrow. “You agreed entirely too easily.”

“We have to go back,” I tell Tairn. “I know.”

“Masen,” he replies with a quick smile. “And if it makes you feel better”—he glances at Brennan—“I don’t think your mom had anything to do with the War Games this year, either. Aetos was pretty loud about his dad planning the whole thing.” Fucking Dain. “Thank you.” I turn toward Brennan. “I would bet my life that she didn’t know what was waiting for us.” “You willing to bet all of ours, too?” Eya asks, clearly not convinced, looking at Imogen for support and not getting any. “I vote we go,” Garrick says. “We have to risk it. They’ll kill the others if we don’t return, and we can’t cut off the flow of weapons from Basgiath. Who agrees?” One by one, every hand rises but Xaden’s and Brennan’s.

“Get the harness done quickly,” Xaden says. “I have a plan, but we have to be back in forty-eight hours for this to work, and a day of that is needed for flight time.” “What’s in forty-eight hours?” I ask. “Graduation.”

“Violet,” Xaden warns me quietly, standing guard at the door. “I know,” I say over my shoulder. The second Tairn and Sgaeyl arrived in the Vale, every dragon would know they’d returned, which means every member of the quadrant’s leadership knows we’re here, too. I lift the corner of the heavy mattress and sigh with relief, snatching the twine-bound stack of letters before letting the bedding fall back into place. “Got them.” I will not cry. Not when I still have to hide them in my room. But what will happen if they come to burn my things next?

“Whatever you want.” I shake my head. “And that’s not going to work for me. Not this time. I can’t trust you again without full disclosure. Period.” He blinks as though I’ve actually managed to stun him. “Full. Disclosure,” I demand like any rational woman staring down the man who kept her brother’s life a secret from her, let alone an entire war. “I can forgive you for keeping me in the dark before today. You did it to save lives, possibly even mine. But it’s complete and total honesty from now on, or…” Gods, am I going to have to say it? Am I really about to issue an ultimatum to Xaden-fucking-Riorson? “Or what?” He leans in, his eyes sharpening. “Or I’ll get busy unfalling for you,” I spit out. Surprise flares in his eyes a second before a corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk. “Good luck with that. I tried it for a good five months. Let me know how it works out for you.”

“I will not die today,” I whisper to myself. “I really fucking hope you’re right about this,” Garrick says to Xaden as we face the open door. “It would be unfortunate to make it all three years and then die on graduation day.” “I’m right.” Xaden walks out and we all follow, stepping into the sunlight. “Garrick Tavis. Xaden Riorson.” Captain Fitzgibbons’s voice carries over the formation as he reads from the death roll. “Well, this is awkward,” Xaden calls out. And every head in the courtyard turns our direction.

best part

“What is he talking about?” my mother asks, looking between Xaden and Aetos. Here we go. “I have no idea,” Aetos grinds out. “I was directed to take a squad beyond the wards to Athebyne and form the headquarters for Fourth Wing’s War Games, and I did so. We stopped to rest our riot at the nearest lake past the wards, and we were attacked by gryphons.” The lie rolls off his tongue as smoothly as the truth, which is both impressive…and infuriating, because he doesn’t have a single fucking tell. My mother blinks, and Aetos’s thick brows furrow. “It was a surprise attack, and they caught Deigh and Fuil unaware.” Xaden pivots slightly, as though he’s telling the wings and not leadership. “They were dead before they ever had a chance.” An ache unfurls in my chest, stealing my breath. The cadets around us murmur, but I stay focused on Xaden. “We lost Liam Mairi and Soleil Telery,” Xaden adds, then looks over his shoulder at me. “And we almost lost Sorrengail.” The general pivots and, for a second, looks down at me like she’s not just my commanding officer, with worry and a touch of horror in her eyes. She looks at me like she’s just…Mom. I nod, the pain in my chest intensifying. “He’s lying,” Colonel Aetos accuses. The certainty in his voice makes my head swim with the possibility that we might not pull this off, that we might be killed where we stand before we have the chance to convince my mother. “I’m only behind the ridgeline,” Tairn tells me. “Breathe,” Garrick whispers. “Or...

“We didn’t stand a chance beyond the wards, General.” “And then?” Mom asks, completely unemotional. “Then I held Liam as he died,” I state, quick to hide the quiver in my chin. “There was nothing we could do for him once Deigh passed.” It takes me a second to shove the memories, the emotion, back into the box they have to stay in for this to work. “And before his body was even cold, I was stabbed with a poison-tipped blade.” Mom’s eyes flare, and she jerks her gaze away. I turn my focus to Colonel Aetos. “But when we sought help in Athebyne, we found the entire outpost deserted and a note that Wingleader Riorson could choose to keep watch over a nearby village or race to Eltuval.” “Here’s the missive.” Xaden reaches into his pocket and pulls out the orders from War Games. “Not sure what the destruction of a foreign village had to do with War Games, but we didn’t stick around to find out. Cadet Sorrengail was dying, and I chose to preserve what remained of my squad.” He hands the crumpled orders to Mom. “I chose to save your daughter.” She snatches the orders and stiffens. “It took us days to find someone capable of healing me, though I don’t remember being healed,” I tell them. “And the second my life was out of danger, we flew back here. We arrived about half an hour ago, as I’m sure Aimsir can verify.”

“It was only for a few days.” He has the good sense to retreat a step. “You told me the games were at my discretion this year.” “And clearly your discretion lacks common fucking sense,” she retorts. “I’ve heard everything I need to hear. Correct the death roll, get these cadets into formation, and commence graduation so the new lieutenants can get to their wings. I expect to see you in my office in thirty minutes, Colonel Aetos.” Relief nearly takes my knees out from under me. She believes me. Dain’s dad stands at attention. “Yes, General.” “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.”

“Touch me and I swear to the gods, I’ll cut your fucking hands off and let the quadrant sort you out in the next round of challenges, Dain Aetos.” My words earn more than a couple of gasps, but I don’t give a shit who hears me. “Violence, indeed.” The hint of amusement in Xaden’s tone doesn’t reach his face. “What?” Dain stops dead in his tracks, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline. “You don’t mean that, Vi.” “I do.” I rest my hands alongside the sheaths at my thighs. “You should take her at her word. In fact…” Xaden doesn’t bother to lower his voice. “If you don’t, I’ll take personal offense. She made her choice, and it wasn’t you. It will never be you. I know it. She knows it. The whole quadrant knows it.” Oh, just kill me now. Heat flushes my cheeks. Getting caught in his flight jacket before War Games is one thing. Outing us in public—when I’m not sure there is an us—is another.

I’ll never push another library cart with Liam.

i miss liam

“Good thing we’re not keeping secrets,” Xaden retorts. Aetos’s smile shifts to the softer one I’ve seen all my life, and the transformation is eerie. “Do be careful who you share your war stories with, Violet. I’d hate to see your mother lose either of her daughters.” What the fuck? Energy crackles in my fingertips. He stares at me for a moment, making sure I get his point, then turns and walks into commons without another word, Varrish following. “He just threatened your life,” Xaden growls, shadows whipping out from behind the pillars. “And Mira’s.” If I tell anyone what really happened, he’ll target her, too. Message delivered. Power burns through my veins, seeking an outlet.

“No anticipation.” I outright glare, but my words lack bite. “We aren’t happening, remember? That’s your choice. I have every right to walk right back into the gathering hall and pick whomever I want to warm my bed. Someone a little more ordinary.” It’s a bluff. Maybe. Or alcohol. Or maybe I just want him to feel the same uncertainty I do. “You absolutely have every right, but you won’t.” He gives me a slow smile. “Because you’re impossible to replace?” It does not come out as a compliment. At least that’s what I tell myself. “Because you still love me.” The certainty in his eyes pricks every inch of my temper. “Fuck off and leave, Riorson.” “I would, but you’ve got a death grip on me.” He glances between our bodies. “Ugh!” I drop my hands from his waist and step back. “Go.” “See you in seven days, Violence.” He backs away, moving toward the tunnel that leads to the flight field. “Try not to burn the place down while I’m gone.”

She grimaces. “I have good news and bad news.” “Bad news first.” That’s my new motto. “Aetos is our new wingleader.” My face falls. “Should have expected that. What’s the good news?” “Cianna, our executive officer, moved up to being executive officer of the section.” Her smile is brighter than any mage light. “And you’re looking at our new squad leader.” “Yes!” I outright squeal in absolute delight and yank her into a hug. “Congratulations! You’re going to be amazing! You already are!” “Are we celebrating?” Sawyer asks loudly from the edge of the courtyard. “Abso-fucking-lutely!” Ridoc shouts, ale sloshing over the sides of his mug as he rushes toward us. “Squad Leader Matthias!” “What’s your first order, squad leader?” Sawyer asks, Nadine racing to catch up to his long strides. Rhi glances over each of us and nods as though coming to a decision. “Live.” I smile and wish it was that simple.

“Fewer dragons are bonding,” I say toward Tairn, knowing Andarna drifted into the Dreamless Sleep a few days ago. “Is that because the Empyrean knows about the venin?” “Yes.” I can almost hear the exasperated sigh in Tairn’s voice. “But we need more riders. Not fewer.” It doesn’t make sense. “The Empyrean remains divided on whether or not we should get involved,” Tairn grumbles. “Humans aren’t the only ones keeping secrets.”

It is one thing to cross the parapet your first year. But watching countless candidates lose their life to it feels a little like dying, too. Don’t watch if you can help it.

tears

Dain frowns at Rhiannon. “Running a tight ship there, squad leader.” What an ass. “There are no regulations about four riders on the turret during Parapet,” she counters. “Don’t even get me started this morning, Aetos.” She looks up from her perfectly numbered scroll and raises a finger. “And if you even think about telling me to call you wingleader, I’ll remind you that Riorson did a hell of a job without needing everyone to supplicate themselves to him.” “Because he scared the shit out of everyone,” Nadine mutters. “Well, everyone except Violet.” I fight my smile and lose as Dain tenses, clearly at a loss for words.

“Officially? Aaric Graycastle,” I tell her. She lifts a brow, and guilt settles in my stomach. There are too many secrets between us already, and this is something I can give her. Something she deserves to know, since I just directed him to our squad. “Between us?” I whisper, and she looks over at me with an arched brow. “King Tauri’s third son.” “Oh shit.” She looks over her shoulder at the parapet. “Pretty much. And I can guarantee his father doesn’t know what he’s doing.” Not with how he felt after Aaric’s older brother died during his Threshing three years ago. “Should make for an easy year,” Rhiannon says sarcastically, then beckons the next person without missing a beat. “Name?” “Sloane Mairi.” My head whips in her direction, and my heart jumps into my throat. Same blond hair, though it’s currently tangling in the breeze past her shoulders. Same sky-blue eyes. Same rebellion relic winding around her arm. Liam’s little sister.

Sloane takes the leather from me slowly, then braids her hair—simple and quick—tying it with the band and eyeing me the entire time with the three inches she has on me. “Arms out for balance,” I tell her, nausea rolling through me at the risk she’s about to take. “Don’t let the wind sway your steps.” They were Mira’s words, and now they’re mine. “Keep your eyes on the stones ahead of you and don’t look down. If the pack slips, ditch it. Better you lose it than your life.” She glances up at my hair, then down at the two patches sewn onto my summer uniform right above my heart. One is the Second Squad patch we won during the Squad Battle last year and the other is a bolt of lightning that branches off in four different directions. “You’re Violet Sorrengail.” I nod, my tongue tying. I can’t think of the right words to say about how sorry I am for her loss. Anything that comes to mind isn’t enough. Her expression shifts, and something that looks a lot like hatred fills her eyes as she leans down, her voice quieting so that I’m the only one who hears her say, “I know what really happened. You got my brother killed. He died for you.” I can actually feel the blood drain from my face as I blink away the memory of Deigh crashing into the wyvern who’d come for Tairn, sending Liam flying across my saddle. He’d been so heavy that my shoulders had almost dislocated trying to keep him from falling. “Yes.” I can’t deny it and I don’t look away. “I’m so sorry—” “Go straight to hell,” she ...

Then the stubborn girl finally extends her arms and starts walking. I don’t look away. I watch every damned step she takes like my future is tied to hers. My breath freezes when she stumbles halfway across, and my lungs don’t fully expand until I see her reach the other side. “She made it,” I whisper up to Liam. Then I take the next name.

Sloane is called to First Wing. “Shit,” I mutter. How the hell am I supposed to help her in an entirely different wing? “I’d consider that a blessing,” Nadine says quietly. “She didn’t seem to be a fan.” Dain steps forward on the dais to talk to Aura Beinhaven, the senior wingleader, and the daggers she has strapped to her upper arms glimmer in the sunlight as she nods her head in response. He glances my way, then crosses over to the roll-keeper at the edge of the dais and she pauses, lifting her pen to scribble something on the roll. “Correction!” she calls out over the crowd. “Sloane Mairi to Second Squad, Flame Section, Fourth Wing.” Yes! My shoulders dip in pure relief. Dain walks back to his position, ignoring the reproachful stare from Vice Commandant Varrish, and his composure slips for the second it takes for him to shoot me an indecipherable look. What? Is Sloane supposed to be some kind of peace offering? The roll-keeper moves on, placing the first-years in their squads. Sloane appears a minute or two later, and my relief is short-lived when she opens her mouth. “No. I refuse. Any squad but this one.” Ouch.

“I promised Liam I’d take care of her. She stays.” I nod.

“Between Aaric and Sloane, you’re collecting strays,” Rhiannon warns quietly. “We were strays once, too,” I answer. “Good point. Now look at us. Alive and everything.” A slight smile curves her lips before she returns to her place in formation.

“Get down!” I shout, lunging for Sloane and tackling her to the ground as fire blasts overhead, the flames so close that heat singes every patch of exposed skin on my body. To Sloane’s credit, she doesn’t cry out as I cover as much of her body as I can, curling over her, but the soul-rending screams behind us are unmistakable. I open my eyes long enough to see Aaric laying flat over the redhead under the endless stream of fire. Tairn’s roar fills my head as lava licks along my arched back. A scream musters at the base of my throat, but I can’t breathe in this inferno, let alone give it voice.

“I think he got the message,” I say to Tairn. “If Solas comes near you again, he knows I will devour his human whole and let him rot within me while his heart still beats, and then I’ll take the eye I so graciously left him.” “That’s…graphic.” I’m not touching the question of their history with waves of anger still rolling off Tairn like a thunderstorm. “The warning should be effective. For now.” He retracts, drawing back for power before he leaps from the wall, his wingbeats kicking up the gravel around us as he takes off.

“I wanted to talk to you before breakfast but didn’t get a chance. I think the school is hiding something from us.” I nearly trip over my own boots but catch my balance before I can make a fool out of myself. “I’m sorry?” She can’t know. She just can’t. I barely survived losing Liam… I can’t fathom anything happening to her. “I think there’s something going on in the Healer Quadrant,” she says, lowering her voice. “I tried to take a first-year to see Nolon yesterday after formation turned into a firepit, and he looks like absolute shit. I mean, the man could barely stand. And when I went to ask him if he was all right, the new vice commandant said he had more important things to do than talk to cadets and basically escorted him to that little door in the back of the infirmary, which is now guarded. I think they’re hiding something back there.” I open and shut my mouth a couple of times, torn between confusion and relief. “Maybe they brought some of the injured riders from one of the outposts for mending,” I offer. The backlog would explain why Bodhi is still in a cast.

“Maybe they brought in a prisoner from Poromiel.” Ridoc forces his way in between us. “And Nolon keeps healing them as Varrish breaks them. I heard one of the third-years say that’s what Varrish is known for—torture.” “And you’re known for eavesdropping.” Rhi shakes her head. Instead of eating lunch with my friends, I make a quick excuse and take my tray to the little library alcove in commons to finish reading United Navarre, a Study in Survival.

“Sloane Mairi and…” he reads from his roll. “Aaric Graycastle.” “I want her instead,” Sloane says, pointing a dagger at me. She has to be kidding. But she’s not. Sighing, I cross my arms and shake my head at Liam’s little sister. “Gods, Sloane.” Imogen snorts, laughing off to the right, where she watches with Quinn. “You really feel like dying on your first day?” “Did she compliment you?” Rhiannon whispers. “Oddly enough, I think so.” “I can take her,” Sloane fires back, white-knuckling her knife. “From what your letter said last year, her joints pop right out. How hard can it be?” “Seriously?” I shoot a reproachful look at Imogen. “I can explain.” Imogen puts her hand over her heart. “You see, I didn’t like you last year, remember? You’re kind of an acquired taste.” “Great. I appreciate that,” I quip back sarcastically.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I swing out with my knife, but he catches my right hand, pinning my wrist to the ground. Then he wraps his other hand around my throat and squeezes. “Fucking die, already,” he seethes, his voice blending into the ringing in my ears as he lowers his face to mine. There’s no air as his grip tightens on my windpipe. “Secrets die with the people who keep them,” he whispers, bringing his nose an inch from mine. His eyes are light brown but rimmed in red as though he’s on some kind of drug. Aetos. Fear floods my mind, breaking past my shields, but it’s not mine. I can’t focus on Tairn’s fear. That way lies shock and death. And I’m not about to die under some no-name first-year.

Secrets die with the people who keep them.

“Aetos sent him,” I whisper to Imogen. “I think we’re being targeted.” Gods, I hope that’s not why Xaden didn’t show yesterday.

“You sure she’s Liam’s sister?” Ridoc asks. “Yep,” Imogen answers with a long sigh. “But she sure wasn’t fostered with fighters, and it shows.” Aaric puts her on her ass six times with little to no effort. Well, shit. This complicates some things. Like keeping her alive. An hour later, I make it through physics under Rhi’s watchful gaze, more than aware of the first-year’s blood drying on my skin and holding my head high when other cadets stare. It’s easier once the ringing in my ears lessens, but I’m still nauseated as hell after class.

“You can bring in whomever you want,” he counters. “Really?” Sarcasm drips from my voice as I drag the brush through my damp hair. “Because Rhiannon tried to walk in and ended up on the other side of the hallway.” The corners of his mouth lift into a glimpse of a smile. “Tell her to hold your hand next time. The only way in here is by touching you.” “Wait.” I pause, then finish pulling the brush through my snagged ends. “So you didn’t ward it for only you and me?” “It’s your room, Violet.” His eyes track the movement of the brush through my hair, and the way his fingers curl in his lap makes me swallow. Hard. “The room is warded to let in whomever you pull through.” He clears his throat and shifts his weight as I finish another pass with the brush. “And selfishly, me.” I fucking love your hair. If you ever want to bring me to my knees or win an argument, just let it down. I’ll get the point.

“The second year is when the rest of us lose our humanity. It’s all part of the process of turning us into effective weapons, and don’t forget for a second that’s the mission here.”

Xaden Riorson wrote me a letter.

“And we aren’t friends?” I question. “We’re…” Her face scrunches. “Coconspirators with a vested interest in keeping each other alive.” That only makes me smile bigger. “Oh, don’t go getting soft on me now.”

“I’m fine,” I tell Imogen, signing at the same time. “Jesinia isn’t going to try to kill me.” Imogen tilts her head, her gaze dropping to the cream satchel Jesinia carries. “I’m not going to try to kill her,” Jesinia signs, her brown eyes widening. “I wouldn’t even know how.” “Violet knew how to kill just fine on a scribe’s education,” Imogen replies, her hands moving quickly. Jesinia blinks. I lift my brows at Imogen. “Fine,” she replies, signing as she backs away. “But if she comes at you with a sharpened quill, don’t blame me.”

“Quite the necklace you have there.” He points to the greenish bruises on my throat. “Thank you. It was expensive.” I lift my chin. “Cost someone their life.” “Ah, that’s right. I recall hearing you were nearly done in by a first-year. Good to see that the embarrassment didn’t finish the job he started. But I guess you’re probably used to barely squeaking by alive, seeing how frail you’re rumored to be.”

“Remind him that I threatened to digest him alive.” “I don’t think that would go well for me,” I reply. “It would be fun to watch him eat the pompous one.” Andarna’s voice is groggy. “Go back to sleep,” I lecture. She’s not due to wake for another month, Tairn said. Varrish’s eyes narrow momentarily on mine, and then he smiles, but there’s nothing kind or happy about it. “About your little feathertail—” “She can’t bear a rider.” Not lying, since she hasn’t flown since waking in Aretia. “I fly with Tairn, but she’ll go through maneuvers on the easier days.” “Well, see to it that she flies with you next week, and you can consider that an order.” Another growl sounds from Tairn.