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“May your mother be remembered! To General Sorrengail, the flame of Basgiath!” one of the third-years calls out, and my stomach twists tighter as I forge ahead without reply.
“I am as unknown as he is, and you still trust me,” she says. “I will not be another battle you have to fight.”
“I’ve been thinking about it all night. Magic feels different when I change color. Maybe my use of power in that moment altered the venin, weakened her enough to blister.”
Xaden is mine. My heart, my soul, my everything. He channeled from the earth to save me, and I’ll scour the world until I find a way to save him right back. Even if it takes bargaining with Tecarus for access to every book on the damned Continent or capturing dark wielders one by one to question, I’ll find a cure. “We’ll find a cure,” Andarna promises. “We will exhaust every closer resource first, but if I’m right and I somehow altered that venin inadvertently while changing my scales, then the rest of my kind should know how to master the tactic. How to change him. Cure him.”
want to find my family. We both know the order to locate my kind is inevitable now that your leadership knows what I am. Let us do so on our terms and for our own purposes.” Her tone sharpens. “Let us follow every possible path to a cure.”
“Dragons do not answer to the laws of humans,” she counters in a tone that reminds me of Tairn. “And as my bonded, as Tairn’s rider, you no longer answer to them, either.” “Rebellious adolescent,”
“You sure I shouldn’t ask Cuir or Chradh—” “No.” I start down the stairs. There’s only one other person besides Bodhi and Garrick I can trust to prioritize Xaden’s best interests, only one other person who can know the truth in its entirety. “Tell Glane I need Imogen.”
I will not die today. I will save him. —Violet Sorrengail’s personal addendum to the Book of Brennan
I’ll mourn later, always later.
“Then practice evenly dispersing enough magic to keep all your extremities warm during flight, because your wings won’t hold the weight of this ice,” Tairn growls into the falling snow. “‘Your wings won’t hold the weight of this ice,’” Andarna blatantly mocks him. “And yet yours miraculously carry the burden of your ego.”
“That’s a little dramatic.” I’m not getting into this argument again. “His eyes are back to normal—” “That kind of power is addictive. You know it, or you wouldn’t be pretending to sleep at night.”
“Tairn…” I struggle for words and look up at him. “I need to know where you stand before this meeting. With or without Empyrean approval, I can’t do any of this without you.” “Meaning, will I support the myriad of ways you plan to court death in the name of curing one who is beyond redemption?” He swivels his head in my direction again.
“I fly without warming my wings in preparation for carrying heavier weight for longer distances. Does that not answer your question?” Meaning Andarna. Relief gusts through my lips on a swift exhale. “Thank you.” Steam rolls in billowing clouds from his nostrils. “But do not mistake my unflinching support of you, my mate, and Andarna for any form of faith in him.” Tairn lifts his head, cueing the end of the conversation.
“Every possible path,” Andarna reminds me. “Every possible path,” I repeat like a mantra and straighten my shoulders.
“You don’t have to be involved.” I stare her down in a way I never would have dreamed of eighteen months ago. “I’ll do it with or without your help.”
“Of course not.” I shove my gloves into my pocket. “He’s still pissed at me for ‘burdening you’ with the knowledge.”
“We’ve decided you need to rethink your sleeping arrangements.” My grip tightens on the handle and I contemplate slamming the door in her face. “I’ve decided you can all go fuck yourselves. I’m not running from him. Even in the moments he’s lost control, he’s never hurt me. He never will.”
“Pain isn’t a competition,” I assure him. “There’s always enough to go around.”
“She’s dead!” A cadet in infantry blue stumbles in and falls to his hands and knees. “They’re all dead!” There’s no mistaking the gray handprint marking the side of his neck. Venin. My heart seizes. We haven’t found them out on patrol—because they’re already inside.
The rarest of signets—those that rise once in a generation or century—have manifested concurrently with an equal twice in our records, both critical times in our history, but only once have the six most powerful walked the Continent simultaneously. As fascinating as that spectacle must have been, I would rather not live to see it happen again.
“Bring their bodies outside once you’re done killing them so we can roast them for fun,” Andarna suggests.
Her long silver braid
“Not the silver hair!” the dark wielder with the sword bellows, and I scramble to my feet, slipping on the blood-covered stone. “We need her!”
“Ah, the lightning wielder. You’re a long way from the sky, and we both know you can’t kill me with that knife,” he taunts, and the veins along his temples pulse as Rhi sneaks up behind him, her alloy-hilted dagger poised to strike. Shadows quake at the edges of the chamber, and a corner of my mouth rises. “I won’t have to.”
“Tell me something, Violence.” A muscle in his square jaw ticks as he stares down at me, rippling the tawny-brown skin of his stubbled cheek. “Why is it always you?” …
“It’s not always me,” I whisper to Xaden, brushing my hand against his as we continue down the wide spiral staircase, approaching the second floor. Xaden scoffs, then laces his fingers with mine and brings the back of my hand to his perfectly sculpted mouth. “It is,” he replies just as quietly, punctuating the remark with a kiss.
“For fuck’s sake. You trust her to babysit me at night, don’t you?” Xaden narrows his eyes on his best friend. “Don’t act like I’m the reason you need to be supervised,” Garrick fires back.
“Let me in.” It isn’t a request. To my surprise, he lowers his shields, and the shimmering onyx bond between us solidifies. “You wielded your signet today. Behind the wards.”
“Do you still love me?” I hurl the inquiry at him like a weapon. His gaze snaps to mine. “What kind of question is that?” “Do. You. Still. Love. Me?”
“I could reach the rank of Maven, lead armies of dark wielders against everyone we care for, and watch every vein in my body turn red as I channel all the power in the Continent, and I would still love you. What I did doesn’t change that. I’m not sure anything can.”
“See? You’re still you.” My gaze drops to his mouth. “Telling me you’re capable of horrible things while still loving me is pretty much your idea of foreplay.”
Sometimes I worry about Violet. She has your sharp wit, quick mind, and steadfast heart paired with my bullheaded tenacity. When she finally and truly gives that heart, I fear it will overrule the other gifts you’ve given her and logic will cede its voice to love. And if her first two liaisons are any indication of what we might expect… Gods help her, my love, I’m afraid our daughter has atrocious taste in men.
“Never going to be,” he replies as I walk into the hall. “I have every faith in your ability to protect yourself, but say the word and I’ll rip the doors off their hinges.” “You’re such a romantic.”
“Makes it hard to assign me to anything, as none of you commands the Aretian riot. And they’re not my demands, they’re hers.”
“We won’t go,” Tairn states. “We have to go!” Andarna argues, her voice rising.
You have three days to hold up your end of our bargain.
