Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
He wasn’t kidding. Garrick looks like shit. Blood drips from his hairline, and his left eye is rapidly swelling shut from what appears to be a fresh hit. Instead of his swords, he carries a massive shield on his back, the size and weight of which would absolutely crush me.
“We were on patrol when she found us.” Garrick’s gaze flickers my way, and the instant pity that fills his open eye sours my stomach. “I wasn’t strong enough. Or quick enough. She ripped us straight out of the sky like a pair of pigeons in a windstorm.”
“Who?” Xaden asks, steadying his friend’s arms when he wavers.
“Their lightning wielder,” Garrick answers. “She let me go to deliver a message.”
Theophanie.
“To me?” Xaden asks, his brow furrowing.
“For both of you.” Garrick retreats a step, then swings off his shield. “They’ve reached the walls of Draithus. She said if that isn’t threat enough, you have five hours to bring Bodhi and Violet or she dies.” He glances at me.
You come or she dies. Isn’t that what the Sage said? But why Bodhi? And who could she possibly—
No. I shake my head, and my stomach lurches. There’s no possible way the irids would let her put hands on Andarna, if Andarna is even still on the Continent.
“Who—” Xaden starts, then falls silent and stares at Garrick’s shield. “Fuck.”
I drop my gaze to the shield, too, and my heart drops out of my chest.
It isn’t a shield; it’s a green scale that matches the exact shade of my armor.
Not Andarna…Teine.
Theophanie has Mira.
But even harder than taking a life is doing nothing while one is extinguished beside you. Keep your eyes forward, Mira.
—Page seventy-one, the Book of Brennan
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
“We fly for Draithus. They’ll attack as soon as they get what they want.”
“And leave Sorrengail to die?”
“Who says she’s even still alive?”
The voices of arguing, armed riders blur as I stand between Xaden and Brennan near the center of the dais, staring at the updated map on the Assembly chamber wall.
“There are thousands coming up the pass out of the city. If Draithus falls, they’re all dead.”
“We have a six-dragon riot stationed there—”
“Ten now that the line has fallen back.”
“Don’t forget the nightwing drift.”
“Against hundreds of wyvern?”
“And at least a dozen dark wielders.”
“Whoever goes isn’t coming back from that.”
“Then you send us.”
“We’re not sending cadets into combat!”
“It was our dragons who woke us. End of debate. We’re going!”
I barely hear any of it. Only one thought matters: Theophanie is done waiting for me, and she has Mira.
She has my sister.
And our last words were in anger.
Fear threatens to worm its way past the rage boiling in my blood, and I fight to deny it entry. Mira doesn’t have time for my fear. It’s a four-hour flight to Draithus, and if we don’t leave in the next half hour, we’ll be too late—not just for Mira but for the thousands of civilians as well.
How did this happen? A harsh red line on the map spans from what had been the eastern front directly to Draithus. They’ve surged in the last twenty-four hours, ignoring everything else along their path, concentrating on this one target when easier, comparable cities remain untouched.
“Not all signets are equal. I know she’s a Maven, but is she more powerful than you?” Brennan folds his arms at my right as the others continue to argue.
“Yes,” I answer. There’s no point lying.
“We’ll be walking into a trap.” His gaze locks on the flag representing Draithus.
“Flying, and who said you were coming?” I counter. The space between the flag and the Cliffs of Dralor seems impossibly small for so many people to flee, and the climb is hellacious. They won’t all make it.
“She’s my sister, too,” Brennan states.
He has a point.
Xaden stands silently in front of the throne, his arms crossed as he studies the field to the north of Draithus, where Theophanie has demanded we meet. “We don’t have enough riders to retrieve Mira, defend Draithus, and protect the pass.”
“No.” Brennan sighs and examines the map more closely. “We’ll have to prioritize an objective. Maybe two.”
Xaden nods.
“We can’t just leave people to die,” I protest.
The arguments between cadets and officers grow louder, and the pit in my stomach deepens. I should be with my squad, but I’ll be damned if I stand patiently and wait for others to decide my sister’s fate.
“What would you do if they were your citizens on the other side of the border?” Cat yells across the room from where our squad stands in loose formation. “Or are you thinking like true Navarrians now that you’re tucked in safe behind your wards?”
A smart-ass captain snaps something back at Cat that I can’t hear over the din, and Sloane charges. I nearly jump over the table, but Dain gets there first, hooking his arm around her waist and hauling her back as she swings. The second he sets her on her feet, those fists are aimed in his direction, and I wince as he lets two make contact before trapping her wrists and leaning in low. Whatever he says must register, because she gives a curt nod, then retorts with a glare and walks back into formation, where Rhi is waiting with what looks like a scathing lecture.