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)
“The Earl of Lewellen said you’d be in here. Orders aren’t optional, Riorson, even for nobility. We need to go.”
“Promise me,” Xaden says, stroking his thumb under my ear and completely ignoring his best friend.
“You’re leaving?” I swing my gaze back to Xaden’s, realizing that’s why the messenger had tracked him down. “Now?”
He leans in, blocking out the rest of the world. “Promise me, Violet. Please.”
He’ll never go too far, never lose his soul, so I nod. “I promise.”
Xaden’s eyes slide shut for a heartbeat, and blatant relief shines from their depths when he opens them. “Thank you.”
“I know you can hear me.” Garrick raises his voice. “Let’s go.”
“I love you.” Xaden kisses me hard and fast, and it’s over before I can even process it’s actually happened.
“I love you, too.” I grab his hand as he withdraws. “Tell me what the king gave you.”
He takes a deep breath. “He gave me back my title and the seat in the Senarium.”
Holy shit. My lips part.
“Not just Aretia, either…he gave me Tyrrendor,” Xaden says slowly, like he can’t believe it, either.
And he doesn’t want it. My chest clenches. “Xaden—”
“Don’t wait up.” He presses a kiss to the inside of my wrist, then strides toward Garrick. “I’ll be back by eight a.m. to sign that accord,” he calls back over his shoulder. “Try to stay out of trouble while I’m gone.”
“Be careful.” He’s the Duke of Tyrrendor. This is so much bigger than how I feel about him now. There’s an entire province depending on him.
I need to find a cure, and that means saving the alliance tonight…
Even if it means I’ll be a traitor by morning.
If I’m to be court-martialed for helping Braxtyn defend his people, then I shall welcome the trial. All who channel from dragon and gryphon alike should flourish under the wards, and now Aretia will be that haven should one of the others ever return.
—Journal of Lyra of Morraine
—Translated by Cadet Jesinia Neilwart
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Iwant to be on the quest squad,” Ridoc whispers at my side as we cross the enclosed bridge to the Healer Quadrant, my heart strangely steady considering what we’re about to do.
“For the last time, there’s no quest squad,” Rhi hisses at him as the bells announce midnight’s arrival, muffling the sound of rusty hinges as Imogen opens the door ahead of us. “There’s a very small, very skilled group going with Violet to find Andarna’s kind.”
“Sounds like a quest squad to me. Given Riorson’s recent promotion, he should be able to pull some strings with Grady, right?” Ridoc checks over the daggers sheathed along his right side, like he’s afraid he might have missed one. Hopefully we won’t need them. “What do we all think?”
“I think you should shut the hell up before you get us caught and killed,” Imogen says over her shoulder, walking into the mage-lit tunnel.
Ridoc rolls his eyes and glances in my direction as we cross into the Healer Quadrant. “Still sounds like a quest squad.”
“If I had a say, I’d take you,” I promise, pulling the door shut once we’re all inside.
The tunnel is empty—all the beds have been cleared since yesterday morning’s attack, which feels like a decade ago. We find the darkest stretch between mage lights and lean against the wall just out of sight of the infirmary doors.
“Now we wait,” Rhi mutters, drumming her fingertips on her folded arms.
It isn’t long before we spot Bodhi and Quinn making their way toward us from the opposite direction with Maren in their wake, pillow lines etched on her face.
“You ready to do this?” Bodhi asks me, keeping his voice down as he reaches us. “You really want to do this?”
“No second thoughts,” I assure him, lifting my chin. “Whatever it takes.”
He nods and glances over our party. “Everyone know their assignment?”
“I don’t,” Maren whispers, looking at us like we’ve lost our minds. “Is this some kind of hazing ritual?”
“It’s best you don’t know until we need you.” I pull the vial of concentrated, purple valerian root tincture from my left pocket. “It’s for your own safety—and plausible deniability—that you trust us. For now, just stay here with Imogen.”
Maren glances at each of us as if deciding, then nods.
“Then let’s go.” Bodhi gestures toward the infirmary, and I take the lead.
Gods, I hope I’ve thought of everything. If one thing goes wrong, we’re fucked.
The five of us approach the infirmary doors, and I knock lightly four times. Please be here.
“Remind me how you know this guy?” Bodhi whispers.
“I saved his life during navigation last year,” I answer, then hold my breath as the right door opens silently.
Dyre pops his head out, his brown eyes crinkling as he smiles. “I did everything you asked. Come on in.” He holds the door open, and we all slip inside as quietly as possible.