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Godsdamn am I tired. Every muscle aches, my stomach can’t decide if it wants to eat everything or expel it all, and I’m starting to see double when I try to focus on the map.
“Turn it back around—” Ridoc starts, then pauses to appreciate the flier. “Well, hello Cygnisen.
“Good thing I fuck like a third.” Ridoc grins. “Plus, I’m on quest squad, which gives me an additional boost of desirability.”
He leans toward the flier. “By the way, third-years usually sit up top, but if you want to be close to me, that’s all right, too.”
I scan the map for the length of two heartbeats,
“They somehow know about the Aretian wards and they’re moving into position for the inevitability of them falling.” A murmur ripples through the room. Devera nods. “That’s what I think, too.” My blood runs cold. But how
It takes Dain and me two evenings to decode the clues Dad left to open the passcode-locked books, and once we do, I can’t even tell my sister, since she’s taken personal leave for the first time in her entire career.
trial by combat for different levels of entrance to Unnbriel’s court,
whites of his eyes are clear, but something about the color…
I find myself nodding instead of lecturing him about reading my intentions, but that wasn’t… My eyes widen. Has he been honing his signet like Ridoc?
the sun catches on the amber flecks in Xaden’s eyes as he nods before walking away. Amber.
Mira asks, rotating a beaded bracelet of what looks like black tourmaline
my eye catching on the bracelet. Something about the knotwork holding the metallic beads tickles the back of my brain, and I swear I can smell parchment for the smallest of seconds
“Where did you go on leave?” I ask her. Her mouth purses, like she’s deciding. “I went to see Grandmother.” “You flew to Deaconshire?”
“You went to see Grandma Niara
“She stopped talking to Mom and Dad…” I shake my head. “It must have been before I was born
Something to do with Dad marrying Mom, right?”
“Right around the age where your hair was coming in thick enough to pull into a little ponytail.” She smiles at the memory, but it slips. “And it wasn’t Grandma Niara who ended communication. Turns out it was the other way around.”
his family. Is that where the bracelet came from? “You should go up to Luceras.”
Blue-robed attendants rise on the temple steps, and my footsteps falter. Every single one of them has silver hair. Not gray. Not white. Silver.
“Ah, then it is good we did not complete your dedication.” “My what
“But do you not yearn for temple? Usually the touch creates such longing that you can’t help but return. Or perhaps you now favor another god.”
“I still see us among your potential paths, should you decide to take it. Dunne will accept you. It is not too late to choose Her.”
Can you wield?” “No, of course not, but you can still speak to your dragons.”
“When did my hair turn silver at the ends?” “Turn?” Mira’s expression mirrors my own. “It grew in that way.
course my parents didn’t dedicate me. That practice was outlawed in the two hundreds, and even earlier in Poromiel.
“The vegetation is even paler here,”
“This looks like tarsilla, but the bark is nearly white.” “Perhaps magic weakens the farther from the Continent one gets?” Tairn muses. “Though I’m not sure how it can be much less than nonexistent.”
His eyes are so blue they’re actually…purple.
Her dark-brown eyes settle on Xaden immediately, and they flare in blatant, palpable shock. “Is there a problem?” Faris asks. She studies Xaden with a desperate intensity that puts us firmly in awkward territory, and Xaden must feel the same, given that he’s practically petrified into a piece of stone beside me. “Oh, shit.” Garrick’s face drains of color. “Xaden?” Talia whispers, lifting her hand, then quickly dropping it. “Is it really you?” My eyebrows hit my fucking hairline. Xaden reaches across me and wraps his hand over my hip like I need protection. “Mom.”
Hedotis hasn’t entered a war or aligned itself with any kingdom at war in its recorded history.
“Andarna, when those boys leave the house, I need you to follow as invisibly as you can,” I say down the bond. “Are we scheming? I do enjoy scheming.” “We’re planning.”
Talia has been stockpiling for weeks.
“Though I’m not sure I’m feeling up for sweets tonight.” “Me either,” Roslyn agrees, holding her stomach.
Faris calls out to one of the servants as they file back into the kitchen. “It seems the four of us are missing our forks.”
And she’s been hoarding it for weeks. My mind begins to race. Weeks. She knew we were coming.
That scene on the beach where she acted so surprised was all…fake. My stomach sours. This is wrong. Something’s wrong. I’ve missed a detail I shouldn’t have.
“This is the part where I tell you I’ve already killed you.”
“I have four uniforms, but only one fucking flight jacket, and I”—punch—“hate”—punch—“sewing!”
To live amongst the Zihlni, you must prepare to accept luck as your guide and chaos as your standard.
I suck in one full breath, then another, and the world spins back to normal speed.
you were selected by a general among dragons. You can choose to step into leadership, or he can drag you. Either way, you’re going to end up in front.”
“Her name is Broccoli,
“Not fair!” Ridoc wipes the drops from his eyes
“I’m still winning. That doesn’t count!” he calls after his dragon. A pause, and he yells, “Because we’re on a mission!”
My breath falters. We didn’t find the irids; they found us. We did it. They’re here
“She is the criterion.”
My gaze jumps from irid to irid, my stomach sinking lower as I count from one to six. They’re all feathertails.
“As is my right upon transition from juvenile to adolescent.” The irids fall silent, and not in a good way.
“Is it just the six of you?” Andarna’s head swivels to look at them. “There are hundreds of us,”
