Onyx Storm (The Empyrean #3)

by Rebecca Yarros

“The Dark One didn’t cut it in the first place,” Tairn responds. “Stop calling him that.”

Maybe the god of death will curse me for keeping my mother’s personal journals, but it’s not like I wouldn’t have a few choice words for him should we meet, anyway.

Her long silver braid swings free of her hood as her attention whips in our direction, and her eerie red gaze jumps to mine and widens slightly under a faded tattoo on her forehead. My blood chills when a smirk tilts her mouth, distorting the red veins at her temples, and then she…disappears. I blink against the sudden breeze that rustles a loosened strand of my braid, then stare at the empty space she’d occupied. At least I think she had. Am I seeing things now?

“With my shields up, I didn’t know you were in the interrogation chamber until I was halfway down the stairs.” “What?” I blink. “Then how did you know to come help?” Silence stretches between us, and a prickle of apprehension makes me shift my weight, aggravating my lower back. “I sensed them,” he finally answers. “The same way they sense me.” My stomach pitches, and I reach for the wall, splaying my palm over the rough-hewn stone to keep my balance. “That’s not possible.” “It is.” He nods slowly, watching me. “That’s how I know I’ve changed, how Garrick and I have managed to slay more than a dozen of them this week. I can feel them calling to me, just like I can feel the source pulsing beneath my feet with its incomparable power…because I’m one of them.” His eyes narrow. “Scared yet?”

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. —Recovered, Unsent Correspondence of General Lilith Sorrengail

Xaden can sense them.

His eyes slide shut, and he gestures to the headboard. “Not fine.” My gaze narrows on the dark wood, and I have to lean in a little to finally see two faint marks of discoloration, barely a shade lighter than the original stain, right where his thumbs had been. I cover my stomach with my hand like that can keep it from sinking. Did he just channel?

Bodhi. Garrick. Imogen. My stomach tightens. They were checking to make sure Xaden hadn’t killed me.

Her expression softens, and for a second, she looks just like her older sister. “They’re never going to accept us.” “They don’t have to,” I assure her. “We already have.”

“First Wing stands strong! Stands loyal to Navarre!” A cheer rises from the left. “Not sure I’d brag about being in the wing that produced Jack Barlowe!” Ridoc counters. “Ridoc!” Rhi hisses. “I’m done,” he promises as Dain shoots a glare his way.

Personally”—he scratches his beard—“I like our odds. The last time a shadow and lightning wielder fought side by side, they managed to drive the venin back into the Barrens for a few hundred years. We’ll figure out how to do it again.” I fumble the conduit and nearly drop it. Xaden and I are the first of our signets to live simultaneously since the Great War?

“Be careful.” He’s the Duke of Tyrrendor. This is so much bigger than how I feel about him now. There’s an entire province depending on him. I need to find a cure, and that means saving the alliance tonight… Even if it means I’ll be a traitor by morning.

“Violet Sorrengail!” Colonel Aetos shouts from the doorway, his face a mottled shade of red as his narrowed eyes search the briefing room. “Here.” Bracing my hands on the edges of my seat to fight a sudden wave of dizziness, I rise to stand as four riders follow Aetos in. “Vi,” Rhiannon whispers. “No one say a damned thing,” I reply under my breath. “I’ll be fine.” “You are hereby charged with high treason against the kingdom of Navarre!” Maybe not.

“I’ve never seen him like that.” Garrick shoots a worried look my way. “Ever. I don’t even want to think about what he would have done if he’d been out here beyond the wards, because I thought he was going to rip the stones from the wall. He’s always prided himself on control—he has to when he wields that much power—and I’m telling you, he lost it when he heard you were crossing the border, Violet. He’s…not himself.”

Our heads whip right, and the silver-haired venin walks toward us, her purple robes billowing in the breeze. She doesn’t bother to look at Tairn as she passes mere yards in front of his hind claws, just keeps those eerie red eyes pinned on us. On me. Wait. She did…what? Lightning? Blood drains from my face and I throw up my shields, drawing on Andarna’s power. Holy Dunne, she wielded lightning. But venin aren’t supposed to have signets…let alone mine.

“Our paths are too intertwined to begin with such hostility. I know: you answer a single question and I’ll return the walker to the ground. That seems a civil start to our relationship, don’t you think, Violet?”

“Now tell me, which chose you first? The one who gifted you the power of the sky? Or the irid?”

“Irid,” Andarna whispers. “Yes. I remember now. That is what my kind are called. I am an irid scorpiontail.” “Fly for the wards!” I scream mentally. “She’s not here for me. She wants you.”

“Hmm.” Theophanie studies my face. “Disappointing, but it wouldn’t be fun if I caught my prey on the first attempt. You truly don’t know what she is, do you?” The dark wielder’s mouth curves into a delighted smile that instantly sickens my stomach. “What a prize you’ve won. Sometimes I forget just how short mortal memory can be.” Mortal. As opposed to what? Immortal? How fucking old is she?

“When the shadow wielder comes to us—” “He won’t,” I snap. Power hums, filling me at a trickle as the sound of wingbeats fills the air. Tairn’s waking up, but whatever’s coming at us is coming fast. “He will,” she says in that same infuriatingly certain tone Xaden uses. Lightning cracks like punctuation, branching through the cloud overhead. She didn’t even have to lift her hands. Holy shit, I’m outmatched in every possible way. “And when you come with him, you will remember that I let you live today and choose me, not Berwyn, as your teacher.” She retreats step by slow step, extending her arms out at her sides.

“Did you?” I ask quickly as the wingbeats grow louder. “She called you a walker.” He’d traveled a thousand miles in minutes, and there’s only one way I’ve read about to accomplish that, but no one has done it in centuries. Garrick wipes the back of his hand across his temple, and it comes away bloody. “Yeah, and she called you a leash.” No wonder he’s best friends with Xaden. They’re both excellent at dodging questions. “You have a second signet, don’t you?” And like Xaden, he hid the strongest one. “So do you.” He hands back my daggers and sways. “Or at least you will.”

You might be angry when you realize I didn’t wake you to say goodbye. But it’s only because I no longer fully trust my ability to walk away. —Recovered Correspondence of His Grace, Lieutenant Xaden Riorson, Sixteenth Duke of Tyrrendor, to Cadet Violet Sorrengail

“You’d never kill civilians,” I counter with a hundred percent certainty. He takes another step backward. “If I’d been there, beyond the wards, I would have drained the very earth to its core to keep you safe.” “Xaden…” I whisper, every other word failing me.

There’s no cure because magic does not negotiate, and we do not wish to be cured.”

Upon failure of three exams, Jesinia Neilwart has been removed from the adept path and stripped of all its responsibilities and sacred privileges as of January 15. Under protest, I transfer her command to Professor Grady at his over-authoritative request. —Official Records: Scribe Quadrant, Colonel Lewis Markham, Commandant

“But he’s right, you and Riorson bicker like you’ve been married fifty years and neither of you wants to do the dishes.”

irids.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Do you guys think it’s short for iridescent?”

“Did you find mention of the irids?” Ridoc asks. Jesinia blinks once, giving Ridoc a look I’ve seen enough times to wince on his behalf as she begins to sign. “Yes, in the second tome I pulled.” “Really?” His face lights up. “Absolutely,” she signs, her face completely deadpan. “It was recorded that when the last irid hatches and bonds the cadet born of rider and scribe, she’ll be gifted with two signets.”

“Three more classes?” Ridoc moans, and the sentiment is echoed around the room. “On top of quest squad research?” He glances my way. “I’m only halfway through the first Deverelli text as it is.” A smile pulls at my mouth that he’s jumped in with both feet, regardless of knowing there’s absolutely no chance of him going.

“I am yours and you are mine, and there’s no law or rule in this world or the next that will change that.”

Xaden threatens, his hand motions sharpening as he signs and his tone slipping into that dangerous calm that makes the lieutenants across from us shift in their seats and my gaze flicker his way. The hair rises on the back of my neck. There’s a flash of something…cold in his eyes, but it’s gone with a single blink. Huh.

“Records of the second Krovlan uprising have been ripped out of General Cadao’s journal, and Jesinia thinks an officer hinted that an isle kingdom was involved hundreds of years after we severed contact. General Aetos asked me about my father’s research on the subject last year—” “Feathertails.” Xaden’s jaw ticks. “I vaguely remember him mentioning something about it on our way to the flight field.” “Exactly. Dragons mentioned with isles tells me we should look south.” I watch the others descend into shouting, their hands flying as they sign, and Aura is the shrillest of them all. Pretty bold coming from a cadet. “I don’t know the contents of Dad’s research, but I do remember him suddenly going secretive with it about six months before he died. If he’d wanted Aetos or Markham to have it, he would have left the information in his Archives office.”

“I’m either completely in love with your boyfriend or utterly terrified of him,” Ridoc says under his breath. “Not sure at the moment.” “Both,” Cat answers from his left. “You can be both. Trust me.” “You shouldn’t be either,” Trager mutters. Ridoc glances my way and rolls his eyes. I bite back my smile. “I’m never scared of him.” Xaden’s eyes find mine, and my pulse skips. “And he’s not my boyfriend.” Rhi snorts and Ridoc offers me a sarcastic thumbs-up. “Agreed,” Xaden says. “That’s far too casual a term for what we are.”

“I never need to draw a sword because I am the weapon. I’m just good with blades for the fun of it.”

“I can wield from anything that casts a shadow, but no one knows the strongest threads are always my own. If you can sort through them, feel their difference, you’ll be able to track where I am in the darkness.” “Is that really what you need me to learn?” I run my hands through shadow, but it all feels the same. “You have to learn the difference for both our sakes.”

“Xaden!” He doesn’t so much as pause his ascent. “Because you’re the only one capable of killing me.”

My brightest light, I meant to prepare you but only had time for half the lessons you need, half the history, half the truth, and now time runs short. I failed Brennan the day I watched him walk the parapet, failed Mira when I could not stop her from following, but I fear my death will fail you. Your mother and I trust no one, and neither can you. —Recovered Correspondence of Lieutenant Colonel Asher Sorrengail to Violet Sorrengail

There’s an enemy who thinks I’m going to come to her.

“You ready to join in, Second Squad?” Garrick asks, crooking his fingers directly at Imogen. “You don’t want anything to do with these.” She lifts her hands. “Why don’t you put them on me and we’ll see?” A corner of his mouth tilts and a dimple pops in his cheek. “Oh gods, just stop flirting and fuck already,” Ridoc says. Every head slowly turns in his direction. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?” he asks me in a hushed whisper. “Oh yeah, you did,” I reply, patting him on his back. “Garrick’s going to blow you off the mat.” “Now that I might enjoy, depending on the method he chooses—” Ridoc winces. “I’m going to stop talking now.”

“Seriously, though.” Halden tsks. “No hello? Not even a compliment on the tailoring of my uniform? Or the fresh haircut? I’m heartbroken, Vi.” “You’d have to own a heart to break it,” I immediately counter. “And the only hair I remember is your professor’s covering your face when I walked in on her riding you. It was auburn, right?” The next batch heads up, this time armed with fliers as Xaden changes position, moving slightly to the left. “Ouch. You wound me.” Halden rubs his chest. “Yes, I cheated, but you have to remember, I was still suffering from the loss of my twin. I was…”

Halden scoffs. “Anyone who’s ever dated a rider knows their first priority—their first love—is their dragon. Once you accept that, another man hardly feels like a challenge.”

“It wasn’t a response, it was… It simply was.” Xaden crouches behind me as Halden pushes himself to sit upright. “Let’s get three things straight, Your Highness. First, I have remarkable hearing thanks to the shadows at your very feet. Second, I don’t control Violet. Never have. Never will. But third, and most importantly—” He lowers his voice. “She really, honestly hasn’t thought about you. At least not since the second she set eyes on me.” I’m going to fucking kill him.

I read the page over and over, committing it to memory even as my mind races. How would he have known a merchant in Deverelli? Seek the weapon… Did he know about Andarna? About the rest of her kind? For the first time in my life, it dawns on me that maybe I didn’t know my father as well as I thought I did.

“Get off me!” Aura bellows, shoving me aside as the figure stumbles forward into the moonlight and screams. I gasp, and for a millisecond, fear wins. Captain Grady is on fire.

Violet, Just a reminder that while I want you to come of your own free will, I’m capable of taking you whenever I wish. Why do you not ask me for the answers you so desperately seek? —T

But once I finally make my way through my dad’s manuscript for the third time and scour the research that behemoth requires, I have an inkling of a thought of where he might have been headed in his hypothesis. I keep it to myself, partially because I’m scared to be wrong but mostly because I’m terrified I’m right. When Varrish mentioned last year that he thought the research dealt with feathertails, I never imagined it would lead in this direction.

Ridoc’s eyes narrow. “I’m just as good of a fighter as any of you, and while you’ve been focused on rehab and Rhiannon is chasing first-years to keep them in line, I’ve been the one reading every fucking book Jesinia shoves at me and spending extra hours training—” The skin on the orange splits. “It really pisses me off when you guys act like my sense of humor somehow lessens my ability to show up for our squad.” “Ridoc,” I whisper, staring at the orange. “What did you do?” “I’ve been trying to tell you.” He hands me the fruit, and it immediately chills my hands. “You aren’t the only one who’s been spending hours honing their signet.”

I look up at Ridoc and whisper, “Are you trying to tell me that you can freeze the water in someone’s body?” He rubs the back of his neck. “I mean, I haven’t tried it out on anyone, or anything living, of course, but…yeah, I think so.”

Tecarus nods. “A word to the wise…” He glances between us. “I may collect rarities, but King Courtlyn absconds with them. Do not wander off from each other, do not advertise what a rare jewel you are, and at all costs—do not make a deal you cannot keep.”

“Tairn?” I prompt, my stomach souring with unease. “I can’t speak with Sgaeyl.” He clips out each word. “Or any of the others. Our communications have been severed.” I reach for the glittering onyx bond, but even though Tairn is still there, Xaden isn’t. We’re already cut off.