“We know we didn’t lie. We just didn’t tell you everything,” Andarna says, flying in the pocket of air behind Tairn with the least wind resistance as we make our way to the outpost. “That’s lying by omission,” I argue. There’s a lot of that going around today. “She’s right, Golden One.” Tension radiates through every line of Tairn’s body and the very beats of his wings. “You have every right to be angry.” He banks, following the mountain range along the border. The straps on my saddle bite into my thighs. “We made a choice to protect you—without your consent. It was an error, and one that I
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