Iron Flame (The Empyrean, #2)

by Rebecca Yarros

“Do not block all power like the dragons want you to think they do! We can still feed from the ground, still channel enough to survive. Enough to fool them. We might not be at full strength, capable of wielding greater magic under your protections, but make no mistake: we are already among you, and now we’re free.” Jack gestures at Baide, his glare alternating between Xaden and me. “I’ll never know why it’s you he wants. What the fuck makes you so special?” “This changes everything,” Tairn urges. “You have no idea what’s coming for you.” Jack grasps at the shadows, his feet kicking against only air, but Xaden wraps another band around his throat, and he stills. “They’re faster than you think they are. He’s coming with a horde of greens. They all are.” “Might take them a minute to read the map.” Xaden’s tone shifts to taunting. “And you’ll be long gone before they arrive.” “We need to keep him alive for questioning as long as possible.” I shift my weight carefully to avoid Jack’s attention.

“Gather everyone. They’re faster than dragons,” Dain says to my mother. “We have ten hours. Maybe less. Then we’re all dead.”

As if the first won’t be enough to destroy us. Glancing over my shoulder, toward the top seats, I see Xaden standing next to Bodhi with his arms folded across his chest, listening to whatever Garrick tells him. A painful ache erupts in my heart. How can we only have hours left? As if he senses the weight of my gaze, he looks at me, then winks like we’re not facing certain annihilation. Like we’ve transported ourselves back to last year and this is just another Battle Brief.

Devera takes mercy on him, stepping forward. “You’ll be working within your squads tonight. Remember that wyvern are the distraction and the weapon. You take down one of the venin, and you kill the wyvern they’ve created. No one takes on a dark wielder alone. That’s how you get killed. Work together, rely on each other, complement each other’s signets just like it’s the Squad Battle.” “Except it’s real battle,” Rhiannon says under her breath. Where real cadets will really die. “Remember that venin will mimic your fighting style, so change it up if you have no choice but hand-to-hand,” Devera continues, the lines of her mouth tense with worry and perhaps a little dread.

Mom looks up to my right, where Mira stands with a few of her friends, then drops her gaze to me. “The assignments given tonight have been decided with the best interest of Basgiath and the Vale in mind. There are incredibly powerful signets among you. Gifted riders.” She looks in the first row, where Emetterio sits. “And even combat masters. But I will not lie to you—” “That’s a first,” I mumble, and Rhiannon scoffs softly under her breath. “—we are outnumbered,” Mom continues. “We are underpowered. However, the odds may be against us, but the gods are with us. Whether you left after Threshing or stayed, we are all Navarrian riders, bonded for the purpose of defending dragonkind in the darkest hour, and this is it.” The darkest hour on the longest night of the year. My stomach churns as I fight off the spiraling weight of hopelessness.

“Captain Sorrengail.” Mom looks up at Mira. “You’ll be with Second Squad, Flame Section, Fourth Wing.” Our entire squad looks over at Mira, and my eyes widen at the fear that flares in her eyes. Anger simmers along my bond with Xaden. “Fuck that.” “With all due respect, General Sorrengail,” Mira replies, rolling her shoulders back, “if we’re to truly use our signets to their best advantage, then I should be paired with you as a last line of defense, since I can now shield without the wards.” Mom’s eyebrows rise in surprise, and my gaze jumps between them like I’m watching a sporting match. Mira swallows, then locks eyes with me. “And Lieutenant Riorson should be placed into Second Squad, as his signet has previously proven in battle to complement Cadet Sorrengail’s.” She looks at me like we’re sitting across the dining room table from each other and not in the midst of a pre-battle briefing. “As much as I would love to be her shield, he gives us the highest probability of keeping our most effective weapon alive.” A tense second passes as I look to our mother. “So be it.” Mom nods, then finishes the unit changes. The heat along the bond recedes, and my posture sags in relief. At least we’ll be together. “We get both of you?” Ridoc offers a quick smile. “Maybe we have a shot of lasting an hour.” “My money’s on two,” Sawyer chimes in with a nod. “Both of you shut up before I knock your heads together,” Imogen warns from a seat behind us. “Anything less than four hours is unac...

I clear my throat. “It’s a mistake to abandon the wardstone.” My mother levels a disapproving look on me, and the temperature drops a few degrees. “Why is it that only my daughters speak out of turn?” “We get it from our mother,” Mira snipes in a dry tone, and that lethal look pivots to her. “It’s a mistake,” I push on. “We don’t know what power remains in the stone, and it was placed in that exact location because it’s over the strongest natural flow of power, according to Warrick.”

I glance up at the clock. It’s not even eight yet, which means I can keep my mantra for the next few hours. I will not die today. I can’t say the same about tomorrow.

“We can’t.” Regret saturates the words, and yet I can’t stop myself from winding my arms around his neck. “No matter how much I would rather lock the door and let the rest of the world burn around us.” “We can.” He lifts a hand to the back of my neck and tugs me closer, until our bodies meet from thigh to breast. “Say the word, and we’ll fly.” I stare up into his eyes, marking each fleck of gold just in case I won’t get another chance to. “You could never live with yourself if we abandoned our friends.” “Maybe.” His brow knits for less than a second, so quick I almost miss it as he leans into my space. “But I know I can’t live without you, so trust me when I say there’s a very real, very loud part of me screaming to carry you out of here and fly for Aretia.” I know the feeling all too well, so before I dare to give it voice, I rise up on my toes and kiss him. At the first touch of our mouths, heat ignites between us, and he grabs ahold of my ass, lifting me. I sense that we’re moving, turning as I part my lips for his tongue and throw all logical thought out the door. My ass hits the desk and I hold tighter, kiss him harder as he slants his mouth over mine again and again, taking everything I offer and giving it right back. This isn’t the slow exploration we’d shared last night, lingering on every touch, knowing it might be the last time. It’s frantic and wild, hot and desperate.

“Disengage your body parts or whatever you’re doing—” I unlock my door with a flick of my hand and yank it open to find not only every second- and third-year flier in our squad but a few of our first-years, including Sloane. And Brennan. Without thought for regulation or decorum, I fling myself into his arms, and he catches me, pulling me tight against his chest. “You came.” “I left you and Mira here to fight this on your own once before, and I’ll never do it again. I knew I’d fucked up as soon as you left, but gryphons don’t fly as quickly as dragons.” He squeezes harder for a second, then lets me down. “Tell me where I can be of use.” “Are those fliers?” Every head turns down the hall as my mother approaches with two of her aides, but her steps falter when her gaze shifts toward my brother. “Brennan?” “I’m not here for you.” He dismisses her without another word in her direction. “Matthias is going to send the fliers to hunt the lures. They’re faster on the ground and better with runes, anyway.” “We are,” Cat agrees with a casual shrug, assessing the hallway like she’s searching for structural weaknesses. Which she probably is. “And we don’t abandon our drifts. We’ll fight.” I might not like her, but damn do I respect her. Finding those lures will give us precious time to—

“Have you ever encountered something you can’t mend?” “Magic,” he answers. “I can’t mend a relic or anything. Probably not a rune, either.” If he can do it, we’ll just have to hold on long enough for Codagh to arrive. “What about a wardstone?” Brennan’s eyebrows shoot up, and I glance past him to Rhiannon. “We have to guard the chamber, at least let him try.” Rhi nods, then turns to my mother, who’s still staring at Brennan like he’s a hallucination. “General Sorrengail, Second Squad, Flame Section, Fourth Wing officially requests permission to guard the airspace above the wardstone chamber.” Mom doesn’t take her eyes off Brennan. “Granted.”

“Is this how it felt in Resson?” Rhiannon asks from my right, her hands nervously flitting over her sheaths and scabbard. “How are you feeling?” I ask. “So scared I’m pretty sure either my heart’s going to give out or I’m about to shit myself,” Ridoc answers from her other side. “I was going to say horrifyingly scared, but sure, that works, too.” Rhiannon nods. “Yes. That’s exactly how it felt.” I do the customary checks again, not that I’d have time to get back to my room if I left anything. Xaden retrieved the dagger I’d put in Jack’s shoulder, which gives me a full twelve, plus two alloy-hilted ones and the handheld crossbow strapped at my right thigh. I’m fully armed.

“No one dies today,” Ridoc repeats, and Sawyer nods as we break apart. “Did you see Jesinia?” Rhi asks Sawyer. My eyebrows rise. “She’s here?” “Flew in with Maren,” Sawyer says, his head bobbing.

I turn to Andarna while Xaden finishes talking to Quinn and Imogen. “Promise me you’ll stay hidden.” “I can hide.” She backs up a step, and I blink… It’s almost as if she’s faded straight into the darkness. “Benefit of being a black dragon,” Tairn chuffs. “We’re born for the night.” I follow Andarna and scratch the scales between her nostrils when she lowers her head. “Stay put. Marbh is below you, keeping watch over Brennan. If the tide of the battle turns, he’ll watch after you, but you have to go. Promise me.” “I will stand. I will keep watch. But I will not leave you this time.” She huffs a breath that scents lightly of sulfur, and my heart sinks. She’s seen too much for someone her age. “It was easier when you were a juvenile.” I give her one last scratch. Every dragon in our squad knows to take care of her if Tairn and I fall. But only she can make the choice to let go. “I didn’t listen then, either.” “Good point.” “It’s almost time,” Tairn announces, and my heartbeat accelerates as I turn toward the rising sun, a strip of orange illuminating not only the horizon but the massive cloud of wyvern that’s nearly here.

Xaden meets me between Tairn and Sgaeyl, a scenario that reminds me entirely too much of Resson. He reaches for me, his warm hand cupping the back of my neck. “I love you. The world does not exist for me beyond you.” Leaning down, he rests his forehead against mine. “I couldn’t tell you that the last time we flew into a fight, and I should have.” “I love you, too.” I grasp his waist and force a smile. “Do me a favor and don’t die. I don’t want to live without you.” There are so many of them and so few of us. “We don’t die today.”

“Tell Aimsir I need Mom to move that cloud—” “Yes,” Tairn says, following my stream of thoughts to its conclusion before I even voice them. I let the conduit rest against my forearm and concentrate on the cloud above us, blinking the steady fall of rain from my eyes. The dragons beside us begin to shift their weight, their shoulders rolling in preparation to launch, but Tairn remains as still as the mountain we stand on. I spare a single glance over my shoulder for Andarna, but— “Where are you?” The battle hasn’t even started yet and she’s already left her position. “Hiding like I promised.” She peeks out from a cluster of boulders. “Get ready,” Tairn orders as the clouds roll overhead at a supernatural speed, rushing toward the enemy.

“You’re the one he wants,” the dark wielder announces, shoving his wet, stringy blond hair out of his eyes and striding down Tairn’s neck as I yank at the belt with my left hand, but the buckle doesn’t give. He looks so…young. But so did Jack. Tairn releases the wyvern, his shoulders bunching to push off the dying creature, but it snaps at his neck, and Tairn retaliates with a stronger bite, bleeding the life out of it as we fall and fall and fall. “Your Sage?” I wrench on the leather, but the belt is stuck, and so am I. Fuck.

No. No. No. This is too familiar. Losing Liam was… I can’t lose Rhi. I just can’t.

This isn’t Resson, and I didn’t just lose my best friend. “You reckless, irresponsible—” I yell. “You’re welcome!” she shouts, rain streaming down her face when she pulls away and hands back my blade. “Fix your saddle.

In one heartbeat, the closest wyvern opens its jaws. In the second, it blasts green fire across Sliseag and Sawyer dives backward out of the seat, narrowly avoiding being burned to death and rolling down Sliseag’s spine with a smoking boot. In the third, it completes its assault, snapping at Sliseag’s exposed side. Sawyer kicks at the gaping jaws to save his dragon from the bite, but in the next, he takes it himself, his leg disappearing between the wyvern’s massive teeth. “Sawyer!” Ridoc yells. Sawyer’s scream rips into my soul, and I nearly echo it when the wyvern’s jaw locks with an audible click as Tairn slows his descent directly overhead, only a dozen feet above Aotrom as the remaining wyvern ducks under the fight.

“Don’t you dare—” “Kill the other one quickly for both our sakes!” I’m already moving, sheathing my dagger and lunging from the saddle, gaining one, two, three running steps before I leap. Andarna. Xaden. My sister. Brennan. They all flash through my mind as my arms swing through the fall, finding only air, but it’s my mother’s face I see in my mind when I land on Aotrom’s back, the soles of my boots finding purchase at the edge of one of his spine scales. “Silver One!” “How’s that for a running landing?” Holy shit, I made it.

“Silver One!” Sawyer’s arms close around me as we tumble off Sliseag’s back and fall into the open air. “Catch me.” Wind tears at my hair, my face, my leathers, but I hold on to Sawyer as we drop in total free fall. I can save him. He doesn’t have to die today. He won’t. One. Two. Three. Four. I count my heartbeats as we clear the ridgeline. “What are you doing?” Xaden roars, and there’s a faint, familiar brush of velvet at the base of my neck, as if Xaden’s power has been extended to its limits. Our fall slows, but not by much as a dark wing blocks out the sky. “What the hell does it look like I’m—” The breath is knocked from my lungs as an iron vise closes around us, halting our fall with a whipping change of momentum. Tairn. “What part of ‘stay in your saddle’ did you not understand?” Tairn bellows, holding us in the precarious grip of his claw and banking left, toward Basgiath. “You couldn’t be in two places at once,” I argue, fighting to draw breath as Sawyer goes limp above me, his chin falling against my shoulder. “You had to kill the fourth wyvern, and Sliseag wouldn’t defend himself if it meant losing Sawyer, so I took Sawyer.” “And you just hoped I’d catch you?” He flares his wings, slowing our speed to a glide. “As if you wouldn’t.” Air flows into my lungs in a trickle, then a stream. He scoffs. Then changes the subject with, “Your brother has mended the stone into one piece but does not feel…hopeful.” My heart rises just to fall. Well, that’s…great. “Why? Can i...

“I will call for aid,” Tairn replies. You can’t have him, I tell Malek, shifting to kneel in the scarlet snow. You took Liam. You may not have Sawyer. “Sawyer?” I wrench the buckle on the belted sheath around my left thigh, and mercifully, it gives.

“You look like shit.” Cat crouches in front of me, her braid as sodden as mine as she looks me over. “I heard what you did up there. Well, Kira saw, and she told me. That took guts.” “You would have done the same.” Exhaustion sweeps in, my shoulders drooping as adrenaline fades. “I would have run faster.” She slips one of her alloy-hilted daggers free and hands it to me. “Looks like you’re missing one. I have another.” “Thank you.” I take it like the peace offering it is. “I’ll look after Sawyer,” she promises as she stands.

“The lightning wielder.” Thunder booms in the cloud above us as energy gathers in my veins, hot and crackling. I don’t have to run. I can wield. “Her, I don’t care about.” She glances at Cat. “But you, I’m under orders not to kill, so let’s not make this difficult.” “Me?” What the hell? She takes a step forward, and I release a strike, hitting the ground right in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. “You’ll be so much fun for him to wield.” The nightmare comes back full force, the Sage’s words tumbling over me just enough to make my hand tremble.

The conduit flares with intolerable heat. I drop it, watching in horror as it disintegrates, leaving nothing at the end of the bracelet. He flips his hand, palm upward, and I’m lifted off my feet, suspended in midair, completely immobilized. Just like the dream, but that isn’t the Sage. My throat closes. I can’t lift a hand to wield or even yell for Cat to run while she can. This isn’t a dream. There’s no waking up from this. “Stay calm!” Tairn orders, nearly on us but not close enough. “I’m on my way!” Xaden shouts as the venin steps over the body of his counterpart like she’s a feature of the landscape and continues toward me. They won’t make it in time. I won’t, either. Which means I’ve killed us all. But Andarna can live. She just has to hold on, has to choose to survive. “He’s almost here, so let’s move this along, shall we?” the dark wielder says, less than a dozen feet away now. “The horde tires of hovering, waiting for permission to attack.”

The dark wielder turns, but he isn’t fast enough. Andarna lands directly in front of him, then opens her mouth and breathes fire down upon him, roasting the dark wielder before she snaps her jaws down and rips his head straight off his body. I fall into the melting slush at the same time his corpse does, and she spits out the decapitated, smoking head, then huffs a hot breath of sulfur-laced steam. What. The. Actual. Fuck. “You…” I scramble to my feet and stumble toward her. “You just…” “I breathe fire.” She preens, flaring her wings. “Did you just eat him?” Cat stands but keeps her distance. “You do not speak to dragons you do not ride, human.” Andarna snaps her teeth in Cat’s direction.

“Violet.” Cat grabs hold of my elbow, and I turn toward her, pausing as Xaden pushes open the door. “Tell your mother we’ll fight in the air if she can stop the rain, and if not, deploy us like the infantry. We have more experience fighting venin than almost anyone here, and gryphons are exceptionally quick on the ground.” There’s only sheer determination in her brown eyes, so I nod. “I’ll tell her.” She drops her hand, and Xaden and I walk into the courtyard.

“That’s not why I stopped you.” She points behind me. “There’s a scribe chasing you down.” I turn to see Jesinia jogging toward me in the rain, her hand hidden beneath her robes. She’s keeping the journal dry. “See if you can talk her into getting somewhere safe,” Xaden suggests. “In the meantime, I’ll start picking the fight without you.” He walks into the thirty-foot-thick archway that serves as Basgiath’s gate, crossing under the first portcullis and continuing on, immediately gaining the attention of my mother, General Melgren, and three of his aides standing at the edge of the second portcullis. The tails of their dragons swing just past them, forming a wall half the height of the fortress itself, even more in the case of Codagh. “You should be—” I start signing to Jesinia, then drop my hands when I realize there’s nowhere safe for her to be. She grasps my elbow with her free hand and pulls me into the archway, under the portcullis. Leaving the journal within the robes, she pulls her other hand free to sign. “I think I found the difference between the two, but I think Lyra’s journal is the lie.” “What did you find?” I sign, keeping my back turned toward Melgren and raising my shields, blocking everyone out, even Tairn and Andarna. “I think it’s a seven.” She lifts her brows at me. “But it can’t be.” “I don’t understand.” I shake my head. “Seven what?” “That’s the only difference between the two journals. I thought at first maybe it meant runes, that we’d mistranslated...

My lips part. Shit. Shit. Shit. “They’re close,” she signs. “But that’s a seven. And there are seven circles on the wardstone in Aretia. Seven runes. Seven,” she repeats that last word, as if I could have possibly misunderstood. Seven. Thoughts spin in my head too quickly to grab ahold of just one. “This journal has to be…wrong,” she signs when I remain silent. I close the book and hand it to her. “Thank you. You should go to the infirmary. Sawyer is there, and if we—” She shoves the journal into her robes and begins signing before I finish. “Why is Sawyer in the infirmary?” Her eyes fly wide. “A wyvern took his leg.” She inhales swiftly. “Go. If we evacuate the wounded, Maren said she’d watch over him, so if we evacuate, that’s the safest place for you to be. She’ll get you both out.” Jesinia nods. “Be safe.” “You, too.”

“You’re the reason I can’t plan effectively,” General Melgren snaps at Xaden. “You’re the reason I didn’t even see this battle occurring.” He tries to look down his hawkish nose at Xaden, but he’s at least an inch shorter. “You’re welcome for flying to your aid,” Xaden replies, earning a sneer. “The Vale is the only thing that matters,” Mom interrupts, shifting slightly so her shoulder is between Melgren and me. “The Archives are already sealed. The rest of the fortress can be rebuilt.” “You’re going to abandon it,” Xaden says softly, using that cold, menacing tone that used to scare the shit out of me. From the way Panchek steps back, it hasn’t lost its edge.

“We have over sixty injured pairs, be it dragon or rider that’s wounded. That horde right there will take us as spread out as we are now.” “Then why not move every cadet to the Vale?” Xaden challenges. Melgren narrows his beady eyes. “You might lead a revolution, Riorson, but you know nothing about winning a war.” At least he called it a revolution and not a rebellion. “You’re using them as a distraction.” Xaden drops his arms. “A delaying tactic. They’ll die while those in the Vale have time to prepare. Prepare for what, exactly?” My jaw drops. “You can’t do that.” I pivot, putting myself in front of Mom. “You won’t need to. Brennan has mended the wardstone.” “Even Brennan can’t mend magic, Cadet Sorrengail.” There’s no give, no room to stray from the course in her eyes. “No,” I admit. “But he doesn’t have to. If the stone is mended, it could hold power. We could still raise the wards. I know how.” A curious caress of shimmering shadow slides down my shields, but I don’t let him in. “You weren’t entirely successful in Aretia, were you?” she asks, lowering her voice so only I hear. “‘Could’ isn’t good enough.” That part is for a wider audience, and the rebuke heats my cheeks. “I can do it,” I whisper back just as quietly, then raise my voice to be heard. “If you put Xaden and me in the Vale, you leave the wardstone unprotected, and that is the only solution to keep everyone on this field alive today.”

“Where are you going? They’re about to attack—” Melgren starts. “I’m buying her the time she needs,” Xaden answers, and my stomach sinks. “And they won’t attack. Not yet. They’re still waiting.” “What the fuck for?” Melgren snaps. Xaden’s hand tightens around mine. “Me.”

“If you had to choose to correctly raise the wards here at Basgiath or ours at…” I can’t say it. Not here. “What would you choose?” Xaden’s brow knits as he tears his gaze from the Sage to look at me. “You have to choose. I only have the resources to fully raise the wards here or…there.” There’s a blatant plea in my tone. “I could never take that choice from you.” He’s already given so much. He flinches, then glances toward the hovering horde and the theatrically slow descent of the Sage on his wyvern before bringing his eyes back to mine quickly. “You ward wherever you are, which is here.” “But your home…” It’s softer than a whisper. “You are my home. And if we all die here today, then the knowledge dies with us anyway. Ward Basgiath.” “You’re sure?” My heart beats like the second hand of a clock, ticking down what time we have left. “I’m sure.”

“Holy fuck, Violet.” Xaden turns, putting himself at my side as Codagh slowly lowers his head, tilting toward the end to glare at me with narrowed golden eyes, because even level, I won’t come past his nostrils. “You know what you’re doing?” “If I don’t, we’re all dead.” And I’d better be quick, because Tairn is almost here. I can feel him dismantling my shields. No rider can keep their dragon out for long if they want in. Codagh’s nostrils flare, and his lip curls above very sharp, very long, very close teeth. “You know.” It comes out like the accusation it is. “And you didn’t tell your rider because dragonkind protects dragonkind.” A blast of steam hits me in the face, and Xaden swears under his breath, shadows curling at his feet. “Yes. I figured it out. I’ve already used Tairn’s fire on the second wardstone, so if I power the stone at Basgiath, will you come?” I ask, my fingernails cutting into my palms to keep from shaking. This is the one dragon on the Continent besides Sgaeyl who doesn’t fear Tairn on one level or another. “You don’t need him as the black dragon for Basgiath,” Xaden argues. “You have Andarna.” “Will. You. Come?” I hold Codagh’s menacing glare. “We’re all dead if you don’t. The Empyrean will end.”

“You court death?” Tairn asks, pushing past my shields. “I needed to confirm a secret that isn’t mine to share,” I answer. “Please don’t push.” Tairn’s talons flex in the icy slush beside me. I turn to Xaden. “I don’t want to leave you, and I have about a million questions as to why you think they’re coming for you, but if I don’t…” Every fiber of my being rebels at the notion of leaving him. Leaning in, he lifts his hand to the nape of my neck. “You and I both know you can’t raise the wards and stay to fight. When we were in Resson, I held them back while you fought. I trusted you to handle yourself. Now trust me to handle myself while you get the wards up before more people die. End this.” He kisses me hard and quick, then looks at me like this will be the last time he ever sees me. “I love you.” Oh…gods. No. I refuse to accept the goodbye in his tone. “You will stay alive,” I order Xaden, then glance to the waiting horde, the figure of the Sage who is nearly to the ground, taking his time as if this is all a game he’s already won, and finally to Tairn. “Stay with him.” Tairn growls, raising his lip over his fangs.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her golden eyes blink in the darkness. “Tell you what?” “I know.” I shake my head at her. “I should have known earlier. The second I saw you after Resson, I knew something was different about the sheen of your scales, but I figured I’d never been around an adolescent, so what would I know?” “Different.”

“It’s why you feel like you don’t fit in with the other adolescents,” I note, my hand shaking as I hold the power steady, giving the stone what I can until others arrive to help. “It’s why you were allowed to bond. Gods, you told me yourself, but I thought you were just being…” “An adolescent?” she challenges, flaring her nostrils. Nodding, I try to ignore the sounds of battle high above so I can concentrate on saving us, even as anger barrels down the bond from Tairn, and fury… I can’t think about what Xaden’s doing. “I should have listened when you said you were the head of your own den. That’s why no one could fight your Right of Benefaction last year. Why the Empyrean allowed a juvenile to bond.” “Say it. Don’t just guess,” she demands. Even a slow breath won’t calm my racing heart. “Your scales aren’t really black.” “No.” Even now, her scales are changing, taking on the grayish hue of the stone around us. “But he is, and I so badly want to be just like him.” “Tairn.” It’s not hard to guess. “He doesn’t know. Only the elders do.” She lowers her head, resting it on the ground in front of me. “They revere him. He is strong, and loyal, and fierce.” “You are all those things, too.” I wobble under the strain of wielding but keep my balance, keep the power flowing into the stone. “You didn’t have to hide. You could have told me.” “If you didn’t figure it out, you weren’t worthy of knowing.” She huffs. “I waited six hundred and fifty years to hatch. Waited until your eighteen...

“You’re burning out,” Andarna warns, her voice pitching high with worry. The next breath I take singes my lungs. “Silver One!” Tairn roars. The wards have to go up. “You both have to live. Promise me you’ll choose to live.” Because I’m starting to realize the price of imbuing this wardstone in time to save everyone I love, and it’s my life. My power feels so insignificant to a stone this size. It would take all of Tairn’s power—his very life—and I won’t give that. But I can give enough that the riders who make it can finish the job.

“What’s your signet?” Mom shouts, but I lack the strength to lift my head. “You can’t do this,” Andarna argues in a shriek. “You have your purpose.” Even my mental voice is a whisper. “Maybe this is mine.” “Hasn’t manifested,” Aaric answers in a panic. “What about the others out there?” Mom’s voice rises. He starts to answer the ones he knows of, and I tune him out to stay focused on control, on lasting long enough to be the most use. Brennan hits the ground to my left, crouching a few feet away, his lips moving, but I close my eyes and reach for more of the power that’s slowly killing me. “You will cease!” Tairn orders. “I’m so sorry.” The muscles in my arm lock from exhaustion. Finally. Now I won’t have to hold it in place. I’m entering the final stages of burnout, just like I had on top of the mountain with Varrish. “You shouldn’t have to lose two riders this way.” Forcing my eyes open, I stare at the pattern of rock beneath my fingers, and I get it. I finally understand why someone would turn to stealing magic. All of the power in the world is beneath my fingertips, and if I channel, if I take from the earth instead of from Tairn, I’ll have enough power to save— “You must save yourself,” Tairn demands. “I chose you not as my next, but as my last, and should you fall, then I will follow.” “No.” Steam rises from my skin. “Let go,” Andarna pleads, and the rush of air in the chamber paired with the slight tremble of the ground tells me she’s landed. “I won’t do it!” Sloane...

“It’s the only way,” Mom yells, and I turn my head as my muscles knit and my skin cools. “You can’t imbue something this big in an instant. Not without hundreds of riders, which we don’t have. If you want to save your friends, you’ll do this!” she shouts at Sloane, her fingers wrapped around the first-year’s wrist as she drags her to the wardstone. “Mom?” I croak, but she doesn’t answer. “You’re a Mairi,” Mom says to Sloane. “Yes.” Her bright blue eyes meet mine, wide with uncertainty. “I killed your mother.” Mom taps on her chest. “Mom!” I shout. Brennan collapses next to me, pale and sweating, and I haul myself to my knees. “I tracked her down and hauled her to her own execution, remember?” Mom says to Sloane, pushing her against the stone. “You were there. I made you watch. You and your brother.” “Liam,” Sloane whispers. Mom nods, picking up Sloane’s left hand and putting it on the lowest circle of the massive rune carved into the stone. “I could have stopped his death, too, if I’d just paid a little more attention last year to what my own aide was doing.” “No!” I shout, lunging forward. Aaric runs in from the side of the ward chamber, not only catching me but stopping me. “Let me go!” “I can’t,” he says apologetically. “She’s right. And if I have to choose between her life and yours, I choose yours.” My life or…hers? “Andarna!” I scream. “I’m so sorry. I choose your life, too. You are mine. I can’t let you die.” Andarna shifts around my side, moving forward so she’s po...

“Xaden’s dying,” I whisper. Sloane’s gaze snaps to mine, and that’s all it takes. “You don’t have to do anything but stand there,” my mother promises somewhere in the distance. “Your signet will take over for you. Think of yourself as nothing more than a conduit for power. You’re simply facilitating mine flowing into the stone.” “Violet?” Sloane whispers. I drag my gaze to hers, but I’m not here. Not really. I’m dying on the battlefield, the last of my strength fading, burning, consuming my body. But it will be worth it to save the one I love. Violet. “Fight!” I scream down the bond at all three of them, shouting past blood and vengeance. Wrath and fire. The sour taste of wyvern flesh between her teeth. “You can do this,” Mom says, her voice soothing. “Mom!” My voice cracks as she laces her fingers with Sloane’s. “It’s all right,” Mom says to me, her eyes softening as Sloane’s body goes rigid. “As soon as my power—Aimsir’s power—lives within the stone, fire it. Raise the wards. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe. Do you understand? Everything was to get you to this moment, when you’d be strong enough—” She falls to her knees but doesn’t let go of Sloane. “No, no, no.” I fight Aaric’s arms as my chest threatens to collapse, to crumple in on my heart. Mom blinks in and out of my vision, blurry one second, then clear. “I’m so sorry,” Aaric whispers. “You’re everything we dreamed you would be,” Mom says quietly, her skin paling even as Sloane’s flushes scarlet. “Al...

Sloane staggers backward, staring at her palms like they belong to someone else, and Aaric finally lets me go. I fly forward, hitting my knees in front of where Brennan sits with Mom’s body draped across his lap, his hand trembling as he reaches for her face. My fingers find her neck, but there’s no pulse. No heat. No life. The only beat I hear are bootsteps racing into the chamber. She’s gone. “Mom,” Brennan whispers, his face crumpling as he looks down at her. “What did you do!” Mira drops to her knees and pulls Mom’s body from Brennan, her hands furiously seeking what mine just had, any sign of a heartbeat. “Mom?” She shakes her violently, but Mom’s head rolls onto her shoulder. “Mom!” I can’t breathe. She’s the tide, the storms, the very air, a force too big to be extinguished without ripping the world itself apart to the core. How can she just be gone? “I’m so sorry.” Sloane cries softly. “What did you do?” Mira yells again, the full force of her wrath turned on Brennan. “Xaden needs you,” Andarna says, but I can’t move. “Tairn and Sgaeyl wait with him.” “We need to get them out,” Aaric says, and there are hands—his, I think—on my shoulders, pulling me up off the floor and guiding me backward. Mira follows, hooking her arms under Mom’s and dragging her from the chamber. Sloane helps Brennan, and then we’re all in the tunnel. Someone else carries Mom. One of the first-years? Mira’s hands are on my face, searching my eyes, as a shape blocks the entrance to the tunnel. “...

Most generals dream of dying in service to their kingdom. But you know me better than that, my love. When I fall, it will be for one reason only: to protect our children. —Recovered, Unsent Correspondence of General Lilith Sorrengail

“You are alive. You will live today. You will wake tomorrow,” Tairn promises me as I force one foot in front of the other. “Xaden?” I reach through the bond, but his shields are up. “He lives.”

“My mom,” I try to explain, but my throat closes. “She. The wardstone didn’t have any power, and my mom…” “Oh, Vi.” Rhi takes the step that separates us and pulls me in a hug. It doesn’t matter that I shouldn’t, that it’s a shameful display of emotion, or that she wouldn’t want it. I break down and sob against Rhiannon’s shoulder, my breaths coming in heaving gasps. With every tear, I feel my feet gain traction on a spinning world, feel the first waves of shock start to pass. When I look up, Brennan is sitting on the steps that lead into the administration building, looking ready to pass out as he gives orders, and Mira is nowhere to be seen. “What do you need?” Rhi asks. I reach out to Xaden, but his shields are still locked up tight, so I drag the backs of my hands across my face and try like hell to pull myself together. “I need to lay eyes on Tairn and Xaden.”

“I killed him.” His voice is flat, and so is his expression, the noon sun cutting away almost every shadow from his face. “Snapped whatever tether he had on me and killed him. His body fell into the ravine, and now I keep watching the river like it’s going to pop back up, even though I know he’s miles downstream by now.” “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” I reach for his hand, but he tugs it away. “I’m not. You saved us.” “My mother saved us.” My voice cracks. “She had Sloane siphon Aimsir’s power and both their life energies into the wardstone. She’s gone.” His eyes slide closed. “I’m so fucking sorry.” “She killed your father. Why would you be sorry?” I swipe at another tear that leaks out. “I didn’t want her dead,” he says softly. “I could never want anyone you love dead.” Silence falls over us, and it’s not the comfortable kind.

“Good.” He nods. “It’s safer for you here. This is where we should be.” He drags in a shaky breath, then laughs. “You won’t be as scared under the full wards.” My brow furrows. “I just fought an entire wyvern army, dark wielders, and raised wards, losing my mother in the process. Please, do tell me what could possibly be scarier than that?” “You love me,” he whispers. “You know I do.” I grab hold of his hand, and my stomach twists when he turns toward me but lowers his eyes. “What’s out there that I should be scared of, Xaden? What did he tell you? What did you see?” What could he know that has him this shaken? Slowly, he drags his gaze up my body, and it feels like it takes years for him to just look at me. When he finally does, I gasp, my hand tightening on his in reflex. No. That single word is all I can think, feel, scream internally as I stare up at the man I’m hopelessly in love with. “Me,” he whispers, a faint, almost indistinguishable red ring emanating from his gold-flecked onyx irises. “You should be scared of me.”

“So, I’m going to give you one last chance to make the right choice so we can get this over with,” the Sage says, stopping in front of me and smiling up at me with those eerie red-rimmed eyes and spider-webbed veins. He retreats a handful of steps, then taps the staff on the ground. Gravity claims me, and I fall, passing my feet and slamming into the ground on my hands and knees. “I told you once that you’d turn for love,” he says, holding his arms out. “And so you shall.” “You don’t know shit about me.” I stumble for my feet and fall again, landing on my knees as Sgaeyl roars in pure fury overhead. “I know more than you think.” He lowers his staff and leans on it like a walking stick.

“You know what will happen when you fail?” the general taunts, flicking at the weak bands of shadow that curl around his throat. “I’ll step over your dead body and find her. Then I’ll wrap my hands around her delicate little neck—” Fury surges in my veins, the blast of adrenaline enough to solidify the bands of shadow and yank them tight, but no matter how hard I tug, he won’t move. “—and drain her.” I slam one hand onto the ground and clench my other fist, my arm shaking with the effort it takes to hold him there as I delve to the depths of Sgaeyl’s power and let the fire consume me. “Hold him!” she demands. But I can’t. He’s too strong, and I have nothing left. But I’ll be damned if Violet suffers the consequences. He won’t get his hands on her. Not today. Not ever. The slush beneath my palm melts, and I feel… There’s something beneath me. A steady flow of unmistakable…power. “You cannot!” Sgaeyl shrieks. “I chose you!” But Violet chose me, too. I reach. My heart stammers and I gasp for air, jolting upright in bed. I check the back of my neck, but it’s dry. No dripping sweat. No aching muscles. No exhaustion. Just Violet, sleeping beside me, her cheek resting on the pillow, her breaths deep and even thanks to the exhaustion that’s left bruises under her eyes, her arm bent as though reaching out for me even in her dreams. I watch her long enough to calm my racing heart, my gaze skimming over every part of her I can see from the silvery lines of her hard-won scars to the s...