“You’re supposed to be in the Scribe Quadrant,” he seethes, leading me through the tunnel in the wall. “What the hell happened? Please tell me you did not volunteer for the Riders Quadrant.” “What do you think happened?” I challenge as we reach a wrought-iron gate that looks like it was built to keep out a troll…or a dragon. He curses. “Your mother.” “My mother.” I nod. “Every Sorrengail is a rider, don’t you know?”
Was daddy not a Sorrengail??
