Total pages in book: 295
Estimated words: 282090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1410(@200wpm)___ 1128(@250wpm)___ 940(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 282090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1410(@200wpm)___ 1128(@250wpm)___ 940(@300wpm)
“Not sure I made that one, Professor,” I tell him honestly, dropping to the ground and shoving my things back in the bag. “Pretty sure he came that way.”
“Hmm.” He watches me as I stand. “Either way, be careful there.” He gives me a cautious look and then disappears down the hallway.
I squeeze the jacket between my hands, finding a very empty sheath.
Oh gods.
“Get in here!” Rhiannon hisses, all but yanking me into her room and slamming the door shut behind me.
Ridoc and Sawyer rise from where they’re seated at the window and close their physics books, exchanging a look before coming toward us.
“I didn’t want you caught up in—” My words die when she holds the dagger up, grasping the tip. “Holy shit!” My jaw drops, then rises in an awestruck smile. “You just pulled that through the wall! I thought you couldn’t do that yet!”
“I can’t!” she rebuts. “Well, couldn’t, I guess. Not until right now. Not until I thought whatever this is had a chance of getting you killed from the look you gave me.”
“You’re incredible!” I glance at the guys. “She is, right?”
“Enough about the signet!” Her voice rises with tension. “What is this? And why did you need them not to find it?”
“Oh. Right.” I take a single step forward, and she hands me the dagger. A thousand possibilities, all varying degrees of the truth, run through my mind. But I’m so sick of lying to her, to them. Especially when attacks are increasing and keeping them in the dark will only hurt them. “The dagger.”
Gods, I hope Xaden forgives me for this.
She’s my closest friend and she just saved not only my ass but the lives of every marked one in this college. She deserves better from me. She deserves the truth. They all do.
“Violet?” she pleads.
I swallow the lump in my throat and meet her gaze. “It’s for killing venin.”
Barring invasion, only riders and designated scribes are permitted in the Riders Quadrant. To enter uninvited as infantry or even healer is to welcome a swift death.
—ARTICLE TWO, SECTION THREE THE BASGIATH WAR COLLEGE CODE OF CONDUCT
CHAPTER THIRTY
I tell them everything. Every moment that transpired from the minute I made the decision to leave our squad with Xaden for War Games to the second I fell from Tairn’s back after being stabbed. But when it comes to revealing how and where I woke up, my tongue ties. I just can’t do it.
It’s not because I don’t trust them, but because it isn’t my secret to tell, and to do so betrays Xaden…and Brennan. It risks every life in Aretia.
So, I tell them almost everything that happened after Resson. Andarna, the assassination attempts, the daggers, supplying friendly drifts, Jesinia sneaking me classified books about the wards, even the theory that Navarre knows how to lure the venin—the rest spills out of my mouth in a deluge of words as they stare at me, their expressions varying from shocked to disbelief.
“I was right. Deigh wasn’t killed by gryphons.” Rhi sits on her bed, staring at the wall, her eyes unfocused as she processes.
“Deigh wasn’t killed by gryphons.” I shake my head slowly, sitting beside her.
“And you let him—let Riorson—lie for you.” Sawyer folds his arms across his chest.
I nod, a pit opening in my stomach as I wait for them to condemn me, to shout, to kick me out of the room, to end our friendship.
“And you’re sure the dragons know?” Ridoc tilts his head to the side, and his eyes slowly widen as if he’s talking to Aotrom. “The dragons know.”
“Feirge does, too.” Rhi grips the edge of her bed. “She’s stunned that I do. That you do.”
“Tairn says the Empyrean is split. Some of the dragons want to act, and others don’t. Without the Empyrean taking an official stance, none of the dragons are willing to put their riders in danger by telling them if they don’t already know.”
“And people are dying beyond the wards. All that propaganda is real.” Ridoc paces between the window and door.
“Yes.” I nod.
“They can’t keep a lie this big,” Ridoc argues, rubbing his hand over his recently buzzed hair. “It’s impossible.”
“It’s not.” Sawyer leans against Rhiannon’s desk. “Living in Luceras, I promise you the only news we got along the coast came from what the scribes put out as official announcements. It’s as easy as Markham choosing which news gets published and which doesn’t. We aren’t even open to trading vessels from the isle kingdoms.”
Ridoc shakes his head. “Fine, then what about the wabern, or whatever you called them?”
“Wyvern?” Rhiannon offers.
“Right. If you killed all those dragon-size monsters, then where are the bodies? They can’t hide an entire killing field, and Resson is close enough to Athebyne that someone would see. Liam wasn’t the only rider with farsight.”
“They burned them,” Rhiannon says quietly, looking away in thought. “The patrol reports from Battle Brief said the trading post was charred for miles and we’d have to find a new location for the quarterly trades.”