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)
“She recognized her loss of advantage. Look south,” Tairn announces, and my head swivels.
“I can’t see that—” My vision shifts just like it did after Threshing, and the battlefield comes into startling clarity. But it’s not Andarna’s eyes I’m looking through; it’s Tairn’s. “Far.”
Whatever hordes had waited to launch have taken to the sky a mile from the city gates, leaving behind a line of a dozen—no, eleven—venin-carrying wyvern on the ground behind them. I can’t make out the dark wielders’ features, but it isn’t hard to spot Theophanie’s silver hair or the enormous wyvern she rides.
My heart lurches. The one in the center looks bigger than Codagh.
“Because it is,” Tairn relishes. “It would be my finest kill to date.”
I blink, and my vision returns to my own. The last thing I want is to put Tairn anywhere near that enormous wyvern, but there’s no way the city can withstand the coming assault. If Kaori and the others fail their orders, none of us will survive without falling back and abandoning the civilians.
“Our orders are to occupy or kill Theophanie.” I draw and hold more power, heating my skin to a noticeable burn. “The fact that there are more than a hundred wyvern between us and her that also happen to threaten the city—”
“Agreed,” Tairn interrupts and banks right, soaring toward Draithus.
“Why would riders develop farsight if you can see that clearly, anyway?” I ask.
“The privilege of our sight is afforded to few,” he comments.
Go figure.
Rain sizzles as it hits my face, and I spot Glane and Cath high above a line of gryphons on the northern wall while Cuir flies lower in formation, all picking off wyvern trying to dart by the city on their way to the valley beyond. Rhi and the rest of the squad will stop them before they get to the pass. Wait…Cuir? “Isn’t Bodhi supposed to be—”
“We all make our own decisions.”
Xaden’s going to be pissed.
I scan the horizon for him. The officers have a dozen dragons in the sky, but there’s only one blue above the southern end of the city, and it’s not Sgaeyl. “Where are they?”
“She has withdrawn from me,” he admits with a mental growl.
A string of curse words flows through my head as we approach the city, and I gather more power, letting it scald and smolder deep within me. “Probably doesn’t want you worried.”
“Which has the opposite effect,” he retorts as the horde passes a line of stacked wyvern carcasses to the east. They’ll be at the gates in less than a minute, and there are too many to target.
At least I don’t have to aim.
“Pull the riot back to the airspace above the city.” I drop the conduit, letting it fall against my forearm, and lift both hands to the rain as energy sears my lungs, building to a burn I can’t contain for much longer.
“Done.” He banks slightly left so our course is set for the horde and not the city, and the multitude of color in the sky shifts, concentrating above Draithus.
I’d bet my life that not a single dragon in the sky questioned Tairn’s immediate authority over the airspace.
“Carr’s teachings might actually come in handy.” I focus on the horde, then splay my hands wide and release the built-up energy. Power erupts with a white-hot snap, jolting my spine as I drag my hands downward, and I let go as lightning cleaves the sky in too many columns to count.
“Ten bolts,” Tairn announces with a swell of pride as thunder reverberates through my body and wyvern fall. “Seven struck.”
Determination expands my chest. Yeah, I can do this. I lift both hands, draw power voraciously, then wield again just like before. Columns of lightning crash, though not as powerful as the first strike, and I take out five wyvern, according to Tairn.
“Four,” he announces after the next strike.
Again and again, I draw energy recklessly, counting on volume, not accuracy. Everything in my body burns like I’ve been tied to a pyre, but I push onward.
“Six. Three. Eight!” Tairn keeps count with each wield.
We have time for one more as we near the northeast edge of the walls, and I draw in Tairn’s scorching power like breath, then wield.
“Six!” he announces, and I fall forward, my head swimming as the ones I didn’t kill fly at us in a swarm and breach the city airspace. “Hold tight!”
“We can’t—” I grasp the pommels, and Tairn pulls into a climb so steep the edges of my vision blur. The wind feels so fucking good against my face, but it doesn’t touch the fire in my lungs. I fight for breath against the force crushing my chest and only manage once Tairn clears the cloud of wyvern and levels out for a precious second.
“You cannot fight if you burn out. Water!” Tairn orders, and I rip the waterskin from its strap behind the saddle, pull the cork, and chug. It hits like butter on a frying pan, and my stomach instantly rebels. “Keep it down.”