Traitor
Date: 2016-01-02 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy; Young Adult; dragons; Magic; Middle Grade; Adventure; Medieval; Young Adult Fantasy; Fiction
Description: No amount of training has prepared Jaevid Broadfeather for the frontlines of battle. Now facing the true horrors of war, with Luntharda looming on the horizon, Jaevid has begun to question everything he thought about his heritage. The only thing keeping him going is his oath to protect his dragonrider brothers. But in an instant, even that slips through Jaevid's fingers as he steps from the safety of his dragon's saddle into the depths of his mother's wild homeland-the kingdom of the gray elves. Stranded in Luntharda with his partner Lieutenant Jace Rordin, Jaevid must finally confront the dem
Publisher: Month9books

Nicole Conway

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.

Copyright © 2016 by Nicole Conway

TRAITOR by Nicole Conway

All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by Month9Books, LLC.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

ISBN: 978-1-945107-11-5

Published by Month9Books, Raleigh, NC 27609

Cover design by Beetiful Book Covers

To my son, Ethan.

May you never be afraid to be the hero

The world had changed.

And so had I. Nothing was simple anymore. Nothing was as it seemed—or as I thought it would be. I always lived my life with one little shred of confidence. Even though I had no idea where I was going, be it to a prison camp or to the dragonrider academy, I at least knew exactly where I’d come from. My mother was a beautiful, gentle gray elf woman. My father was a cold, abusive, tyrannical human who made saddles for dragonriders. Those were facts I’d known I could rely on.

But as it turned out, not even that was true. Every passing night brought more dreams and more strangeness. Secrets were mocking me from the shadows of my past. I couldn’t shut out the noise anymore. And it was beginning to wear away what little bit of sanity I had left.

When I had first set foot into Blybrig Academy for Dragonriders as a terrified child, I was the very last person you’d ever want to stick into a dragon saddle and send off into combat. But now, as I leaned into Mavrik’s speed, feeling the strength of my dragon’s wings as if they were my own … I knew I wasn’t that child anymore. I couldn’t be.

I was a dragonrider—not only because I had been chosen, but also because Blybrig had made me one.

I’d fought through hell and back, been baptized in the inferno of combat and survival training to prove that I belonged here. Now I could stand and be counted among the men who called themselves the Dragonriders of Maldobar. I’d worked until I bled for every single step of progress. Was I terrified? Absolutely. Fear was a constant, but it paled in comparison to the sense of duty that burned in my gut now.

I wouldn’t fail. I wouldn’t falter. I would fight until my very last breath. Not for myself, or my own glory—I was fighting for the people I loved.

The battlefront was beckoning, and I couldn’t ignore that call. No dragonrider could. But I’d seen what it had done to others of my kind, and that impending reality was frightening.

You see, the battlefield changes everyone. You can’t get back what it takes from you, and you can’t erase the marks it leaves behind. I could look at my instructors and tell that much. Not all of them had gruesome physical scars, but they all had the same dead look in their eyes. It was the look of a soldier—the somber sense that they had seen things they couldn’t tell anyone about. They were living ghosts, mere specters of their former selves haunted by the things they’d done all for the sake of a blue banner bearing the king’s seal.

I poured my thoughts into my dragon’s mind. Our minds were melded together as one, so we exchanged wordless conversations as we darted through the steep, rocky canyons and soared over the sprawling, bowl-shaped desert valley. Blybrig was the only spot of civilization in sight. That stony fortress had been our home for so long now, and I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

But our time was almost up. We had to join my new squadron at Northwatch soon. I was supposed to be partnered up with my former instructor, Seasoned Lieutenant Jace Rordin, and act as his wing end. Together with our dragons, we would fly in combat until the war ended, we retired, or one of us got killed. That was the dragonrider way.

Jace had already left to rejoin the forces at the citadel. He’d given me a few days to gather my stuff and say goodbye to my family—which would have been nice if I’d had any worth speaking of. I hadn’t heard a word from my father, Ulric, since I’d started training. My half-brother, Roland, was the only one of my family members who had ever reached out to me. He was stationed with the infantry at Northwatch, too, and part of me was hoping I’d get to see him again.

As Mavrik and I reached the edge of the mountains that surrounded the valley, we soared higher and gazed out across the desert. The dark silhouettes of other dragons flickered against the blazing glare from the setting sun. The heat made the air ripple like water, and yet the mountains around us were crowned with snow. It was a beautiful contrast.

We flew until it was nearly dark, bolting through drills and running through every test of speed and aerial acrobatics we could. I pushed the limits of what I knew my body could take. It left us both exhausted when we landed back at the Roost. As I unbuckled from the saddle, Mavrik shook himself. He seemed glad to finally be free of my weight.

“Dinner?” I asked him as I took off my helmet.

He snorted in agreement.

I brought him up a bucket of cut meat scraps and refilled his water trough before I started taking off his saddle or my armor. It was a lot of work, and I had to make sure to check over every buckle and strap for possible damage. I stacked all our gear in the corner of his stall and sat down on the open ledge that overlooked the academy. My body ached from riding. My hands were sore and my palms were raw from gripping the saddle handles—even through my thick riding gauntlets. I was tired, filthy, and hungry. But this was my last time to watch the sun set over the academy. I didn’t want to miss it.

When Mavrik finished eating, he strolled over to flop down beside me. He curled his tail around his body and tucked his wings in close to his sides, resting his huge snout right next to me. I heard him puff a loud, deep sigh.

“I know what you mean.” I sighed, too. “I’ll miss this place.”

Mavrik’s catlike yellow eyes looked up at me, and an image of Felix and his dragon, Nova, popped into my mind.

Felix Farrow had been my best friend basically since we first met, which had been in our fledgling year of training. We’d been through a lot together since then, and still didn’t seem at all bothered by any of the bizarre things that were happening in my life. For that reason alone, I was determined to do everything I could to be as loyal to him as he had been to me.

“Yeah. We can’t let them go alone. Somebody’s got to keep that idiot from getting himself killed.” I smirked as I scratched his snout. It made Mavrik purr and his eyes closed. “Besides, there’s nothing left for us here.”

Once he was calm and settled in his stall, I carried all our gear downstairs to the tack room and stored it. It was dark when I started for the dormitories, so I didn’t think much of it when I passed people on my way. There were still plenty of students and instructors milling around, running last minute errands before they retired for the night. The few craftsmen that had come to make saddles and armor this year were already closing down their shops and dousing their forges.

I was looking forward to a hot meal and some sleep, maybe even a bath to soothe my aching shoulders, but someone suddenly grabbed my arm. I stopped, turning back to squint through the darkness.

At first, I barely recognized him.

It had been a year since I’d spoken to Bren, and he didn’t look at all like he had the last time we’d parted ways. Last I had seen him, he had been smitten with my former childhood friend, Katalina Crookin. They had both been in an apprenticeship to become blacksmiths, and Bren had demonstrated a lot of talent when he fixed my scimitar. He was kind of a simpleton, but I had to give him some credit. He had a good heart, and a sunny disposition that sometimes made me want to choke him. Despite that, and Katty’s fiery disapproval, we’d become friends after I had saved him from being mauled to death by a pack of wolves.

Seeing him now was sort of bittersweet, though. He still wasn’t even close to being as tall as I was—not that many people were—but he looked older. Much, much older. He had the beginnings of a short beard on his chin and there were heavy, dark circles under his eyes. His hair was longer, and he looked a little thinner. When he smiled, it put crow’s feet in the corners of his eyes.

“Jaevid Broadfeather? My, the Fates are kind. I was hoping I would see you. It’s been a long time, dragonrider.” He put out a hand toward me.

I smiled back at him and shook it firmly. “I’d say so. Glad to see you made it here without me this year.”

He laughed at that, but it was a hollow, forced sound. “Barely, I’m afraid.” I could see worry in his eyes as he turned away, nodding toward his forge. It was unsettling. “Could I get a hand?”

“Of course.” I followed him to his temporary shop. I half expected to see Katty there, unloading the wagon or closing down the forge for the night. After all, they were supposed to be partners. But there was no one else with him.

“I just need to get these last few crates stacked up,” he explained as he climbed up into the back of his wagon.

I joined him and started helping move the heavy wooden crates, one by one, into his work area. It brought back memories of helping my father when he’d brought me here to be his apprentice.

“Are you alone this year?” I dared to ask.

He swallowed stiffly. “Yes. It couldn’t be helped. Mr. Crookin retired. I guess last year’s run-in with the wolves and mountain cat was all he could take. And it’s too dangerous to bring Katty through the mountain pass right now. I left her at home with the baby.”

Through the gloom, I spotted the metallic glint of a wedding band on his left hand. It gave me a weird feeling. Not jealousy, though. Definitely not. I was actually wondering if he really was happy with Katty. He’d aged a good ten years in such a short time. Did that usually happen to newlyweds? “Congratulations. If I’d known I would have sent you a gift or something.”

Bren just shook his head dismissively. “There wasn’t really a ceremony to speak of. And Katty was calling all the shots. I tried to talk her down, but she insisted she didn’t want you to know about any of it.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” I hefted the last crate out of the wagon myself, carrying it over one shoulder and stacking it up with the others. “Maybe it’s not my place to ask, but is everything okay? You look … tired.” I tried to phrase it gently.

With the last crate out of the wagon, Bren started unhitching his team of horses. He hadn’t asked for my help with that, but I decided to give it anyway. He looked like he might drop from exhaustion at any moment.

“I wasn’t counting on being the sole provider this soon,” he admitted quietly. “I’m barely out of my apprenticeship, I’ve no funds built up, and I’m already here working the spring orders alone. Katty didn’t want to stay behind. The baby, well, that wasn’t exactly planned. We rushed the marriage because of it. As much as I need her here to help, I couldn’t risk hauling them both over the mountains right now. Not with the way things are.”

I nodded. “I’ve heard the animals are getting worse.”

“That’s putting it mildly. This madness—it’s spreading like a sickness all over the kingdom. There’s too many animals infected for it just to be a coincidence now. Every day we hear new stories of villages and cities being overrun. Creatures no one has seen in hundreds of years are suddenly stirring. It’s like the whole world is going mad.” Bren glanced sideways at me, like he wasn’t sure how I would take this. “People are saying it’s coming from the elven forest. That it’s something they sent to be a plague among us.”

“I hope so.”

His eyes got wide.

“Because if it is, then there might be a way to stop it,” I clarified.

“I suppose that makes sense,” he agreed. “Mithangol hasn’t been hit hard yet. Just a few cases of cattle and dogs. We’ve been waiting and hoping for orders to come down from the king, that soldiers or dragonriders would come to help us. But the king doesn’t seem to care about any of this. He only has eyes for Luntharda. Crushing the elven armies is all that matters to him. Meanwhile his own people are being stamped out like cockroaches.”

I put a hand on Bren’s shoulder. I understood now why he looked the way he did. I could sympathize—but only to a degree. I’d never been married, and I’d never been a father. The weight of being both, and then being forced to leave them behind so he could provide, regardless of what was happening in the world, must have been incredibly hard on him. No wonder he’d aged so much.

“Don’t give up.” I tried to sound reassuring. “As long as there’s even one dragonrider left to fight, then there’s still hope.”

Bren gave me another tired smile. “I know,” he said. “That’s why I came.”

I left Bren to finish his work and started back for the dormitory. The stars were out and the air was so clear I could make out the dusty, milky smear of dust painted through the night sky. It mixed with the glittering of the stars, like they were swimming in a thin cloud of white ash. The breeze felt cool on my skin, like a breath of relief from the hot desert daylight.

As I made my way through the compound, I heard voices whispering near the large, dome-shaped building where morning briefs were held. I could barely see a group of students huddled near the doorway, talking like they didn’t want to get caught. I knew they were fledglings because of their uniforms. They were wearing those trademark blue tunics with the golden eagle of the king stitched across the chest.

They all went silent as I walked past, staring at me like they hoped I hadn’t noticed them. It was strange to be looked at like that, not because I was a halfbreed—because I was the same age as they were. Most dragonriders were seventeen or eighteen when they started training. But I was a sworn-in lieutenant already. I had started my training when I was only fifteen, and now I was almost eighteen … even if I didn’t look it. We were the same age, but I outranked them.

Of course, they probably couldn’t tell that. Felix still teased me about looking like I was in my twenties. That was part of the reason I didn’t raise as many brows now when the older riders saw me standing in the lineup. At least I looked old enough to be there.

Wearing my fur-collared cloak, given to me when I took my oath as an official dragonrider for king and country, and sporting a scar from a shrike’s claw across my cheek, I probably looked like a seasoned rider. Especially to a bunch of fledgling students who didn’t know any better. I guess that was why they all went stiff when I stopped and faced them.

“Get back to your dorms,” I growled, trying my best to sound like Sile or Jace whenever they barked orders at me. “It’s past curfew.”

They scattered at the sound of my voice. Some even apologized as they scrambled back to their dormitory. Something about it made me smile. Sure, it was a little fun to order them around, but that wasn’t the main reason I liked it. I remembered being like that, scared to death of anyone who even looked like an instructor, and seeing it from the other side made me nostalgic.

The dining hall was lit and filled with the sounds of voices. Students sat at the long tables that stretched the length of the room, while instructors shared a table at the head of the room. That was where I sat down. A few of the other newly sworn lieutenants from my class sat around me, and we struck up a conversation. We started reminiscing, telling stories and recalling good memories about our own training.

I had my face down in a mug of spiced ale to take a few sips when I felt someone grab my long ponytail and yank it. It made me choke and sputter. I didn’t even have to look to see who had done it—he muscled his way into our group and slumped down into the seat beside me.

“What are you girls clucking about? You sound like a bunch of old hens over here.” Felix Farrow chuckled as he leaned his elbows on the table. He had been my best friend since the beginning of training, despite the fact that he was now a duke. Normally, his social standing would have forbidden us to be acquaintances, let alone friends. But apparently no amount of wealth or social prestige prevented him from teasing me like a ruthless big brother every chance he got.

I rolled my eyes at him and wiped the ale off my face. “Where have you been?”

“Finding out who my partner is. My orders are official now. I’m headed for Northwatch, with you, Jaevid.” It didn’t take him two minutes to start stealing food off my plate. He swiped a few slices of bread and stuffed them into his cheek.

Hearing that we’d be stationed at the same citadel made me exhale deeply. I was relieved. We’d assumed that’s where he would go, after all, top graduates were usually sent to the hottest points of conflict on the battlefront, and Northwatch was by far the most dangerous since it sat on the border with the enemy kingdom of the gray elves, but nothing was guaranteed.

“So who is it? Your partner?” I was dying to know. Everyone else was already paired up with a senior rider; someone they would shadow in combat until they achieved enough experience to be called a Seasoned Lieutenant. It was called being a “wing end” and while it sounded like an easy gig, it came with its own share of challenges.

Everyone else at the table leaned in closer to hear his answer. I could tell by the smug grin on his face that we were about to get an overly embellished version of the truth. He loved the attention.

“I got four bids from Seasoned Lieutenants to ride with me as their wing end. But there’s only so much of my greatness to go around.” He sat back in his chair and gave me a sarcastic wink. “I took one from a rider named Prax. They say he’s been at this since the war began. He’s refused dozens of promotions just so he could stay active on the battlefield. He’s supposed to be a real war dog. More importantly, he’s in Northwatch—where all the action is. And I mean, someone has to make sure this guy doesn’t get shot down on his first day.” Felix reached out like he was going to yank on one of my pointed ears.

I managed to deflect him with my fork before he could. “So do you know which flight you’re in, yet?”

“Nope,” he said with a sigh. “And you’ll find out before me, probably. I’ve already been cleared to run a few errands before I head north.”

“Getting married before you go?” I teased. He always bragged about how good he was with girls, but I’d never actually seen him get serious with one. I doubted marriage was actually on his agenda.

Felix grinned. “No way. I need to stop over at my estate and see my mom first. I’m leaving her with a lot of responsibilities that should have been mine. She doesn’t even argue about me leaving anymore, though. I think she’s accepted that I’m going regardless of what she says. I did promise her that once I’m promoted off the frontlines, I’d go back home and be the boring old duke she’s always wanted me to be.”

That surprised me. “You must be feeling really guilty about leaving her, then.”

“I actually thought about going back now that training is over. I guess I do feel kind of guilty,” he admitted with a shrug. “But when I heard there was a chance for me to go to Northwatch, I figured this was fate’s way of telling me my favorite halfbreed sidekick might need my help again.”

I narrowed my eyes at him dangerously, even though I was secretly overjoyed that he was coming to Northwatch with me. I couldn’t let that show. I had a reputation to uphold. “You’re calling me the sidekick?”

“Don’t look so happy about it,” he chuckled. “I may not always be around to watch your back, you know. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to learn how to be awesome by yourself.”

“Yeah. Right. Whatever you say.” I rolled my eyes and took another drink from my mug.

The dinner conversation rolled on casually. Everyone was excited and nervous, eager to talk about what was to come. Not all of us were going to Northwatch, but those who were definitely had a lot to think about. We were going into the very teeth of the war; to face the closest battlefront to the elven forest and all its horrors. We would see the brunt of what our enemy had to offer. Shrikes, evil magic, and poisoned weapons were waiting for us in the coming days.

My stomach began swimming with nerves when I thought about all that. It had been so long since I had even seen gray elves—well, apart from the dreams about my mother, but I tried desperately to push those thoughts from my mind whenever they arose. The prospect was daunting, and I wasn’t sure how I would react the first time one drew on me with intent to kill.

One by one, the others at our table started breaking off to go to bed. Tomorrow it would all be over. We had to go our separate ways, and for many of us, this would be the last time we ever saw each other. Some of us would die in combat. Others would be wounded badly enough to be honorably discharged and allowed to go back home. A few would go on to have long, distinguished careers. But one way or another, this was the end.

Finally, it was only Felix and myself left at the table. We sat side by side, staring at the nearly empty dining hall. Something about it made me even more anxious.

“You know, we first met in here.” Felix broke the awkward silence.

I remembered that day, which had coincidentally been my first day as a student. He had sat down with me at a table just across the room from where we were sitting now. He’d stolen some of my food and then sauntered off without ever introducing himself. That was how our friendship had started.

“Someone should have warned me about you then.” I smirked at him.

He laughed and elbowed me in the ribs, then he tried to steal my last bite of roasted potatoes. “Don’t be like that. You know you’d be lost without me.”

I tried to stab his hand with my fork, but I wasn’t fast enough. I could out maneuver him with a sword any day, but when it came to stealing food—it was like Felix had some kind of divine superpower.

“I’d definitely be a lot less hungry without you,” I said.

“It seems like it was yesterday.” Felix’s eyes got distant as he chewed the last bite of my dinner. “And now who knows what we’ll be up against.”

I sighed and pushed my empty plate away so I could lean against the table. “Can’t be anything worse than usual, right?”

He grinned at that. “Yeah. One thing I know I can always count on is that when I’m with you, there’s always a chance I’m going to get kidnapped, killed, eaten alive, or maimed.”

I smiled. “Never a dull moment, right?”

“Never,” he agreed.

We sat in silence again, watching as the last few students got up to leave the dining hall. The room was empty now, except for us. It was unbearably quiet, and my thoughts were drawn to the dark possibilities of what really was waiting for us at Northwatch.

“I heard a wild rumor that someone spotted Icarus in the royal city during the graduation ceremony,” Felix murmured like it was a question, even if it wasn’t one.

I shot him a look. “If you’re asking whether or not I saw Beckah, the answer is yes.”

His grin was so wide it was almost disturbing. “And? Did you guys, you know … ?” He let his voice trail off suggestively.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” I knew it was futile to defend myself now, he’d believe whatever he wanted, regardless of what I said.

“That’s a yes,” he announced proudly, like we still had an audience. “Well, congratulations. It’s about time. So, do I get a wedding invitation, or what?”

“It’s not that simple and you know it. You’re the one who said I shouldn’t mess with her in the first place. Sile would never let me marry her. He’d probably kill me if he knew I had even kissed her.” I turned my face away so he couldn’t see how badly I was blushing.

Felix gave me a sympathetic pat on the back. “True. You picked one heck of a challenge. Not to mention, she fights better than most of us do.”

There was a suggestive edge to his words. It made me immediately suspicious that there was something he wasn’t telling me—something about Beckah.

“What?” I looked at him squarely.

His expression became reluctant, like he wasn’t sure he should tell me. “Well, it’s just something I heard. I don’t know how true it actually is.”

I squeezed my hands into fists on the table. “What?” I repeated.

“Some of the Seasoned Lieutenants were talking about it. Icarus has made a few appearances at Northwatch, too. He and his mysterious rider, who calls himself Seraph, have intervened in a few skirmishes. Beckah’s been busy, and apparently, she’s becoming some kind of hero to the dragonriders there. They’re talking about Seraph like he’s some great savior who has stepped forward to end the war,” he explained, adding emphasis where we both knew the details had been skewed.

I sank back in my seat. Beckah was still passing herself off as a man in order to fight. Women were explicitly forbidden to be soldiers, even dragonriders, and I wondered how long she could hide herself and her secret behind that helmet. I was terrified of what would happen if anyone ever found out who she was. She was playing an incredibly dangerous game.

“Don’t worry, dummy. She’ll be fine.” Felix tried to reassure me.

All I could do was nod in reply. I was worried about her. I loved her. And as much as I knew she wanted to fulfill her destiny, the fact that I might hear about her being killed in combat through some kind of rumor like this was almost more than I could stand.

But there was nothing I could do. When she got her mind made up about something, Beckah was like a force of nature. Nothing could stop her now.

Nightmares weren’t anything new for me. I’d been suffering with bizarre and terrifying dreams for years now. I’d nearly forgotten what it felt like to sleep and wake up actually feeling rested and calm. That never happened anymore.

So I wasn’t thrilled to leave Felix in the dining hall and trudge to the temporary room I’d been given in the instructor’s wing of the dormitory. The unfamiliar surroundings didn’t help. It was a small, cramped room with only one tiny bed and no windows. The sleeping remedy Felix had been slipping to me didn’t help anymore, either. No matter how much of it I took, it didn’t make a bit of difference. The instant I closed my eyes, my dreams came alive.

They usually revolved around my father being the traitorous coward who had stolen the god stone from Luntharda for some conniving, murdering gray elf warrior. The details had begun to get hazier, though, and I still didn’t understand why the god stone was so important. I’d only seen it once, completely by mistake, in a prison camp outside of the royal city of Halfax. At the time, nothing about it had seemed all that special to me. It was just a big, round, green rock—not anything worth killing kings over. There had to be something else I was missing. The god stone had to be important, I just didn’t know how or why yet.

I packed up all my things and took a bath before I tried settling in for the night. As I lay awake, staring into the darkness overhead, I thought about my upcoming journey. Tomorrow I would leave for Northwatch. Felix was going to his own estate, so we wouldn’t be traveling together. And Beckah was somewhere out there in the void of war; so far away I could barely picture her face.

I was restless even before I closed my eyes, already dreading what my dreams would show me. But as I drifted off, I saw something I hadn’t seen in a very long time …

The maw of a deep pit opened up before me. All around was the jungle, dense, deep, and filled with bizarre sounds. As I stood on the edge of that cavernous hole, I could feel something welling up from inside it. It felt like energy, something ancient that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Cold, earthy-smelling air wafted past my nose, and my eyes were drawn to the moss-covered staircase that spiraled around and around, down into the depths of that pit.

“It’s time,” a voice whispered right beside my ear. It sounded like a woman speaking in the gray elf language, but it wasn’t my mother’s this time.

I turned around to see who it was.

My breath caught in my throat. I froze where I stood—nose to nose with a shrike. Its lean, powerful body rippled like water as a thousand mirror-like scales on its hide reflected the beauty of the jungle. Its wild eyes were the color of amethysts, sharp and predatory. I felt its hot breath on my face.

I was absolutely terrified. Without thinking, I took a step backward. My first instinct was to run. I had to get away. I had no weapon, not that it would have helped me much anyway. You couldn’t kill a shrike that easily.

Suddenly, I felt my feet begin to slip, I was teetering on the edge of that pit. I flailed my arms wildly to try to regain my balance, but it was no good.

I started falling into the darkness.

As usual, I bolted upright in my bed with a cold sweat making my clothes feel damp and clingy. My heart was pounding, and I was scrambling to catch my breath. I squeezed my hand around the bone-carved necklace my mother had given to me when I was a child. I never took it off. It was all I had to remember her by.

Just like all the other times I’d had weird dreams, the pendant felt warm to the touch. I could feel it pulsing with a radiant heat in my palm. It didn’t make any sense. It was just a piece of bone strung onto a resin cord. To be honest, I didn’t even remember my mother ever wearing it herself.

It took me a few minutes to collect myself and get moving. I changed into my uniform and gathered up the saddlebag that contained all the possessions I owned in the world—well, except for my old family home. I did own that, courtesy of my older half-brother. But frankly it could have burned to the ground and neither of us would have cared too much.

It was barely sunrise when I stepped out of the dormitory and started for the Roost. Jace was expecting me by the end of the day, so I needed to get an early start. He wasn’t my instructor anymore, so he couldn’t order me around like he had before, but I wasn’t dumb enough to think there weren’t plenty of other ways he could make my life miserable if he wanted to. So being late probably wasn’t in my best interest.

Felix was already gone. I knew it because when I walked into the tack room to get Mavrik’s saddle, all his gear had already been cleaned out. It upset me a little. I’d missed saying goodbye. And he hadn’t bothered to throw a boot at my head to wake me up one last time. Things were different now. We couldn’t act like kids. He had a lot of responsibility to deal with, and part of me wished I could have gone with him to his family estate. Felix’s relationship with his parents hadn’t been very good, from what I had learned. He was an only child, and his father had passed away suddenly last year due to an illness. And I knew he had to be worried about leaving his mother alone while he went off to war. Sure, he put up a tough front. He laughed everything off most of the time. But I knew Felix had been struggling with a rocky relationship with his mother for years now. He’d talked to me about it a little, and apparently she hadn’t wanted him to become a dragonrider in the first place. Now that he was the duke of the family estate, he was supposed to be taking care of her as part of his duties. He wouldn’t be able to do that very well from the frontlines, though.

I tried not to think about it too much. It was his business, not mine. I wasn’t going to try to tell him what to do. I wouldn’t have known what to do in his situation anyway. Besides, Felix was made of tougher stuff than I was. He could handle it.

Heaving Mavrik’s saddle and all my gear over my shoulders, I started up the stairs to his stall. He was being strangely silent this morning. Usually he was already filling my head with excited questions and swirls of curious color. I just assumed he was still asleep. After all, I had pushed him pretty hard yesterday. And we had a long way to go today; a little extra rest for him was probably a good idea.

But as I came to the door of his stall, he started sending me waves of worried blue-green hues. I could sense his uneasiness. He was nervous about something. With my thoughts, I asked him what was wrong even as I opened the door to go into his stall.

Then I got my answer.

My former instructor from my fledgling year of training, Sile Derrick, was standing in Mavrik’s stall. It looked like he’d been waiting for me. Immediately, my temper caught like a wildfire. Anger made my teeth clench and my vision go hazy.

I stopped in the doorway and stared at him, waiting for some kind of explanation. He’d obviously come here to talk. I wasn’t exactly opposed to that. There was plenty I wanted to say to him, too.

“I see you managed to survive,” he said coldly. He didn’t smile.

I didn’t smile, either. “No thanks to you.”

“That’s a bold thing for you to say to your instructor, boy,” he growled.

“You’re not my instructor anymore,” I reminded him. “In fact, I’m not sure what you are … except a liar.”

Sile’s face started to turn a furious shade of red. Even though it had only been a little over a year since I’d last seen him, he looked much older now. More of his hair had turned gray, and there were wrinkles on his forehead and in the corners of his eyes. He was thinner, and there was something disturbing about the wide-eyed way he glared at me. It was as though he half-expected someone to jump out from behind me and kill him.

“I never lied to you,” he snapped bitterly.

My temper stared to flare up. “You never told me the whole truth, either. Keeping the truth from me while acting like you don’t know anything about what’s going on is the same thing as lying. You’ve known about me all along. You knew what I was capable of—that’s how you knew I could heal your wife.”

He didn’t reply. I saw his hands curling up into fists.

“Don’t worry, I don’t expect you to start telling me anything useful now. You’ll probably leave me to flap in the wind with no idea what’s going on, as usual.” I turned away to put down all my equipment.

When he spoke again, his voice was strangely calm. “It’s not my place to tell you these things. My understanding of what you are is limited. Anything I told you would be a poorly educated guess.”

“Right. Well, whose place is it, then?” I narrowed my eyes back at him challengingly.

Sile stiffened. He glared at me with his mouth pinched up into an uncomfortable grimace. “You don’t understand,” he said quietly. “I made a promise. I swore on my honor I wouldn’t tell you anything unless there was no other choice. We agreed that the less you knew, the safer you would be.”

With my arms now empty of my gear and saddle, I stood up and faced him. I flexed my hands, curling my fingers as I summoned some of that strange power that made the air around me hum with wild energy. The heat of it tingled through my chest.

From where he was curled in the back of his stall, Mavrik hissed in disapproval. It made him nervous. But I didn’t stop.

The wooden floorboards under Sile’s boots began to groan, sprouting branches and leaves, which started to entwine around his legs.

“I’m not giving you a choice this time,” I threatened. “Tell me what you know.”

Sile watched the floorboards coming to life like it wasn’t a surprise at all. He didn’t even look scared. “Don’t try to intimidate me, boy. I’ve seen better tricks than this.”

“I know,” I snarled and flexed a bit more of my power. The dragons outside the Roost all sent up a chorus of roars at exactly the same time, answering my silent call like a clap of thunder. “Because you’ve been to Luntharda, haven’t you? Don’t try to lie your way out of it this time, Sile. I know all about it. You went in by yourself, and came out completely unharmed. Everyone says that should have been impossible—that the jungle should have eaten you alive. But now I know there’s only one way an outsider could have made it out without a single scratch.”

I took a bold step toward him so that we met face-to-face. If he was going to lie to me again, I wanted him to be looking at me squarely as he did it. I wanted to see the lie in his eyes. “You knew someone else with power like this. Someone who could make things grow. Someone who could control the jungle and protect you from it.”

Sile’s lip twitched.

“You knew my mother,” I growled through clenched teeth.

Sile’s mouth opened slightly like he was going to argue, but he didn’t. He never said a single word. He didn’t have to. I saw the answer as plainly as I could see the guilt and frustration on his face. I was right.

“Why did you go into Luntharda?” I demanded. “Did you go looking for my mother? Was it about the god stone?”

Mentioning the stone made Sile’s expression harden again. He looked away. “It’s not time yet for you to know that.”

“Why not?” I yelled as I lost my temper.

Sile, on the other hand, was still calm and collected. He didn’t even raise his voice. “Because you haven’t seen it yet. You haven’t seen what this war has done. The citizens of Maldobar are suffering. The poor starve to pay for a war that has turned the very balance of nature on its head. They live in anguish and ruin. But so do your mother’s people. And in many ways, they’ve lost much more than we have. You won’t understand until you see it for yourself.”

I was stunned. Sile was the last person in the world I would have thought might sympathize with the enemy. He was a retired, highly decorated dragonrider. He had fought and probably killed plenty of gray elves before. Hearing those words leave his lips, and seeing the devastated bitterness blazing in his eyes, made me forget how to speak.

Sile took a step toward me, kicking free of the floorboards that had begun to climb his legs. His expression was earnest as he put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it firmly. “If you value your life or those of your friends, then don’t speak of the god stone again. Not to anyone,” he warned. “There are ears everywhere just waiting to hear those words leave your lips. All they need is one excuse to put an axe to your neck.”

“That’s why you’ve been hiding all this time, isn’t it?” I dared to ask as I finally found my voice again. That truth had been staring me in the face all this time, but I had only just now been able to make sense of it. “That’s why someone tried to sabotage your saddle, and why the Lord General was going to execute you. It wasn’t some kind of ritual.”

Sile’s grip on my shoulder slackened some. Once again, his expression told me everything.

As long as I was on the right track, I decided to take it a step further. “You know something about the god stone, don’t you? Something worth killing over … ”

He didn’t speak. As his hand fell away from my shoulder, I saw him nod slightly—just once. He did know something. And whatever he knew was putting his life in danger. He was living in constant fear for himself and for his family. He probably felt like he couldn’t trust anyone after what had happened here at the academy, and now he was worried that anything he told me would definitely put me in that same danger. Why else would he still be trying to protect me?

My anger started to dissipate. I felt sorry for him. I didn’t understand why he was involved, or what had happened to cause all of this, but it was obviously affecting him. He had the same weary, dark circles under his eyes Bren had.

“We don’t have much time. You need to leave soon.” Sile turned away to look at Mavrik. “Don’t tell anyone you saw me here.”

I doubted anyone would believe me if I did. I wasn’t even sure how he’d gotten here in the first place. But as he started to walk away, I just had one more question.

“What about Beckah?”

Sile stopped mid-stride. He shot me a glare that probably would have singed my eyebrows right off my face if I’d been standing a little closer. “What about her?”

“I just wondered what made you change your mind about her. You trained her to fight. You sent her into battle without a wing end. You did everything you said shouldn’t be done for a girl.” I tried to at least keep my tone neutral, even if my questions were somewhat accusing.

I knew I had no place to interrogate him about his parenting choices. After all, he’d threatened to rip my ears off if he ever found me messing with his lovely young daughter. Unfortunately, that ship had sailed. I was in love with her. And now I wanted to know why he had gone from being adamantly against her being a dragonrider to training her for it himself.

“I did what had to be done.” He didn’t sound happy about it at all. “There’s a reason she was chosen. I may not agree with it, or understand it, but at this point those choices are no longer mine to make. All I can do is try to prepare her for the worst.”

“She could get hurt,” I reminded him. “Or killed.”

Sile snorted and cast me a dark, almost mocking smirk. “You won’t let that happen.” It sort of sounded like a threat.

“There may not be anything I can do about it, Sile. No matter how much I love her, I can’t bring people back from the dead. And at the rate she’s going—”

He was on me before I could finish getting the words out. He lunged so suddenly, I barely had time to react. He took a swing at my face, and I blocked. He tried to grab one of my arms and force me down into a grappling hold, but I knew these tricks already. I hadn’t just spent a year in absolute hell for nothing.

I twisted myself around, wrenching free of his grasp. Before I could catch myself or even think about it, my body reacted. I punched him hard across the cheek, twice.

I could have stopped there. I probably should have. Those hits had only been instinct, after all, and he was the one who’d started it in the first place. But it felt so good to get a little vengeance for all the frustration and lies. So I hit him again, one more time, right in the gut. That one was just for spite.

We broke apart and staggered back, glaring at one another. I was poised, ready to dive right back into the fight again if he sprang at me. My face was burning with rage as I waited to see what he would do.

I had a pretty good idea why he had jumped me in the first place. Now he knew how I felt about his daughter. Considering her current situation, it was probably a bad time to bring that up. Regardless, I had my own reasons for wanting to punch his nose in. I hadn’t completely forgiven him for holding out on me—keeping valuable information out of my grasp. Not knowing that stuff had almost gotten me killed several times now.

But Sile wasn’t going to budge. I knew him well enough to guess that much. He wouldn’t tell me anything, no matter how many times I hit him. He’d never tell me what he really knew about my past, my mother, or what my father stealing the god stone had to do with any of this.

“Not bad.” Sile laughed dryly as he wiped blood from the corner of his mouth onto the back of his hand. “Looks like you did learn something after all.”

“Why did you even come here?” I tried to sound intimidating. “Was there a reason? Or were you just checking to see if I was still alive?”

Sile let his arms drop. He stood, frowning at me like I was still a big disappointment to him. Before, that look had always hurt my pride and my feelings. Now it just pissed me off.

“No,” he said coldly. “I came here for two reasons. First, I heard about what happened on the island during the battle scenario. Is it true that your power didn’t affect any of the animals possessed by the sickness?”

I swallowed uncomfortably. I didn’t exactly have happy memories of the battle scenario. What happened on the Canrack Islands was supposed to have been our final test to see if we were fit for the battlefront. But it had ended up a complete disaster. The madness that was now spreading through the animals in Maldobar like a disease had already infected the whole island. We had barely made it out of there alive. Well … most of us, anyway.

“Yes,” I answered at last, letting my gaze fall to the floor.

Sile’s brow furrowed deeply, like this wasn’t part of his grand master scheme. “Then my second reason for being here will be much more difficult than we anticipated.”

“Why? What are you talking about?”

“You have to go into Luntharda.” He looked at me squarely, like he was daring me to refuse. “Knowing the jungle won’t obey you is going to make that very complicated.”

I practically had to scrape my jaw off the floor of Mavrik’s stall. “Are you insane? I can’t go in there! I barely made it off that island, and that was only because Felix dragged me out!”

“You don’t have choice.” Sile rolled his eyes like I was the one being unreasonable. “Your power hasn’t fully manifested yet. And you’re going to need it—all of it—very soon. So a ritual must be performed, you must be chosen publically, and we’re running out of time for that to happen. The longer we wait the further the sickness will spread. More and more people will die.”

“What ritual? How do you even know all of this?” I tried to ask.

He acted like he hadn’t heard my question. “The abilities you’re using now are child’s play compared to what you are truly capable of. You have to perform the ritual, otherwise you’ll keep collapsing every time you try to use too much power. That’s part of the balance.”

I was struggling to keep up with what he was saying. Actually wrapping my mind around it was something I’d have to work on later. I spent a lot of my spare time trying to figure out the things Sile told me, so it’s not like this was anything new.

“Are you even listening?” He swatted the back of my head to get my attention again. “Quit standing there gaping like a beached fish and remember what I’m telling you.”

“Sile, I can’t go in there,” I argued. “If the jungle doesn’t kill me, the gray elves definitely will. They hate me every bit as much as humans do. And they’ll hate me even more when they see me dressed like a dragonrider. They’ll cut my head off before I even get a word out.”

He gave me another weird, sadistic grin. It was probably the most disturbing thing I had ever seen. “You should be so lucky. Your mother’s people aren’t as forgiving as humans. And they don’t offer quick, painless deaths to their enemies.”

I swallowed hard.

“But you’ll be fine, more or less.” He didn’t sound worried at all, even as he grabbed the front of my tunic and yanked me closer. He stuck his hand down the front of it and started feeling around. I was about to take another swing at him when he pulled out my mother’s necklace.

I tried to snatch it back from him. “Hey!”

“Good. You still have it,” he said with a sigh of relief. “Keep it on you at all times. Never take it off. Understood?”

I shot him a glare. “It’s just a necklace. It doesn’t mean anything.”

As much as I wanted to believe that, my heart wasn’t convinced. A haunting memory from two years ago, when I was a fledgling, came back to me as soon as he brought it up. A gray elf had recognized it, and even asked where I’d gotten it. I had almost forgotten about that.

At the time, it hadn’t mattered. There had been other things I was way more worried about—like rescuing Sile and keeping my friends safe. Now, as I watched him examine the bone-carved pendant carefully, I started to get anxious. I was beginning to wonder how much I had been overlooking. All this time, everyone had been telling me to focus on my training, not to let myself get distracted, and to put all my other worries out of my mind. Had keeping my eyes fixed on that one goal made me blind to the hand of fate moving around me?

I was starting to think so.

“Sile,” I started to speak. My tone must have caught him off guard, because he dropped my necklace back against my chest and stared at me with concern. “I found a scimitar at my father’s house. It had the mark of a stag on the hilt. Someone told me it was the royal crest of the gray elves.”

He pressed his lips together uncomfortably, glancing down to my belt where I had the scimitar clipped against my hip. “I know. I gave it to your brother for safekeeping. I’m glad to see he kept his word.”

Closing my hand around the newly refurbished hilt, I drew the blade from its sheath so he could see how it had been restored. “I saw it in a dream, too. I’ve seen a lot in my dreams. Horrible things; things everyone else says can’t possibly be true.”

Sile took the scimitar from my hands and held it up to the light. The expression on his face was distant, maybe even a little sad. It was as though he was remembering something—something that had happened a long time ago. “The first time I saw this blade, the person who gave it to me asked me to destroy it,” he said in a quiet, somber voice. “I couldn’t do it. Even then, it just felt wrong.”

“Was it my father?” I guessed.

He didn’t answer right away. He just ran his thumb over the stag head engraved upon the pommel. “Until that moment, I wouldn’t have refused him any favor he asked of me. Your father and I were like brothers. We both served in the infantry as common foot soldiers. We went through training together. We were both newly married with young wives waiting for us at home, and neither of us had an extra dime to spare. We weren’t fighting for glory or because we even believed in the king’s campaigns. We fought to put food on the table. It was our struggles that brought us together.”

I watched Sile carefully as he turned the blade over, inspecting the runic marks engraved down the length. When our eyes met at last, he handed the scimitar back to me. “Your father was a different man back then. Much different than the one you know now. He was a lot like you, actually. I always admired his bravery—brave to the point of stupidity. Surrender just wasn’t in his vocabulary.”

I remembered Sile saying something to me like that before. Still, it was hard to imagine that he and my father had been close friends. It was even harder to imagine my father being brave or even friendly. I’d never seen that side of him. The Ulric I had known growing up was cruel, intolerant, and harsh. He hated me. He’d beaten me more times than I dared to count, and had basically abandoned me once I started my training to become a dragonrider.

Needless to say, I wasn’t in a hurry to start feeling sorry for him.

“Then it is true,” I replied, “what I’m seeing in my dreams; the gray elf warrior and the death of the king. It all happened, didn’t it?”

Sile wouldn’t meet my gaze again. “It’s not time to talk about that yet.”

I started to get frustrated. He was clamming up, right when I was about to get some good answers. “What about my father, then? He stole the god stone from Luntharda, didn’t he?”

That one answer would have been enough to satisfy me. But Sile wouldn’t give me anything. He just put his hand on my shoulder, like he was trying to reassure me. “Have some patience, Jaevid. I know it doesn’t seem fair. But you, of all people, should understand that there is no fairness in this world anymore.”

What more could I say? None of my questions were going to be answered—that much was clear to me now. Standing there arguing with him was pointless.

I turned my back to Sile long enough to pick up all my gear again, grumbling angry words under my breath the whole time. By the time I turned back around … he was gone. Sile had vanished like a ghost without a trace, and I was left standing there gaping at the patch of empty floor where he’d been only a few seconds ago.

My mind felt like someone had taken a jar full of moths and shaken it just to watch them panic. Thoughts and worries fluttered through my brain, frantic and directionless with no hope in sight. I was so confused about what he had asked me to do. It sounded impossible, not to mention suicidal. I was angry with him for even suggesting it, especially when he still wouldn’t tell me what was going on in the first place. I couldn’t see how going into Luntharda and getting disemboweled by gray elves or eaten by some monster would make things better for anyone, least of all me. Besides, it had taken me years to win the trust of my dragonrider brothers. Marching into Luntharda out of the blue would completely destroy that.

I wasn’t going to do it. My mind was made up even before I finished putting on all my layers of weatherproofed padding and battle armor. The work was a welcomed distraction, and I took my time fixing Mavrik’s saddle snuggly against his scaly hide. I buckled down my bag of possessions, checked every belt and buckle over again, and then took one last look at the view of the academy from inside Mavrik’s stall.

Sitting in the saddle with my legs fitted down into the sheaths on either side of his body, I was looking down Mavrik’s neck and snout at the steep drop to the ground below. The morning sun made the sky burn brilliant red and it cast a pink glow over the snow-crested mountains. My heart was beating with wild, anxious energy.

This was it—the turning point. The minute we left this place behind, my days as a student were over forever. There was no going back.

I gave Mavrik’s neck a pat. He chirped in response, and I felt the muscles in his shoulders grow tense under his hard, plated scales. He flexed, letting out a thunderous roar as we leapt into the air. He spread his wings wide, catching the wind and immediately surging upward toward the breaking dawn.

Northwatch was so close to the border of Luntharda it made me restless just to look at it. Less than ten miles away, the ominous wild jungle of Luntharda loomed with nothing to separate it from Maldobar except a big, man-made wall of stacked stone. I could imagine the soldiers inside the citadel always kept one eye trained on that wall, dreading the day they saw something nightmarish coming over it.

Over the top of the wall, I could see the dark, massive trunks of trees that stood like giant columns. They grew so close together, they seemed to make a wall of their own, and the interwoven canopy of their branches squeezed every drop of light from the air.

The tower of Northwatch itself was much more impressive, though. It was an enormous structure with many skinny slot-shaped windows and different tiered levels going up at least fifty stories into the air. It stuck out of the center of a city like a great black spike, visible from miles and miles away. In fact, it was the first thing I had spotted on the horizon that let me know I was getting close. The king’s gold and blue banners hung like frayed old rags, fluttering tiredly against a dull gray sky.

A snowbound city lay just outside the tower’s main gate. Three circular walls surrounded the base of the tower, each one with tall ramparts lined with what looked like giant crossbows made of wood and steel. I’d read about those kinds of weapons during my training. They were used to launch javelins at enemies on the ground or in the air, but it took at least two men to fire them. From the air, I could see infantry soldiers dressed in armor walking the ramparts, manning their posts, and operating the heavy gates leading in and out of the tower.

The lower levels looked plain enough from the outside, but the upper levels all had broad, open platforms where dragons could land. Huge arched doorways led from the platforms into the tower, and iron gates closed off all the entryways to keep enemy forces from slipping inside. It truly was a fortress—a structure made of dark stone and iron—and nothing about it was beautiful at all. Jace had jokingly called it the “spearhead of the war” once, and now I understood why.

It was growing dark when Mavrik and I made our final descent and circled the tower, looking for a good place to land. Fortunately, the platforms were lit with braziers, and I quickly spotted a few soldiers gathering on the end of one. They were waving green flags and giving me hand signals to land. After spending all day in the saddle, crossing most of the kingdom without stopping, I was happy to oblige. My rear end was sore and my back was aching from straddling Mavrik for so long. I was ready to pry all the heavy armor off my body as soon as possible.

As we prepared to land, Mavrik flared his powerful wings and stretched out his hind legs like an eagle. The floor of the platforms had been coated with something like tar mixed with gravel. It gave the dragons something to grip onto with their claws when they touched down. As soon as we landed, the iron gate at the end of the platform was cranked open, and a few more soldiers came out to greet us.

I let out a sigh of relief. When I pulled my helmet off, I got a deep breath of the bitterly cold air. We were farther north than I’d ever been before, and the air was so cold it almost hurt to breathe it in. It made my long, sweaty hair feel cold against my neck and back.

After unbuckling myself from the saddle, I climbed down and started to unfasten my bag. Being so far up in the air, near the top of the tower, meant the wind was howling. It made it difficult to hear anything.

But I did hear a voice shout at me, “Toss it here!”

I glanced back to see who it was.

Jace was standing right behind me, his steely eyes as piercing as ever. It was like staring a wolf in the eye, and when I was his student, it had been terrifying to try to meet his gaze. But I was used to it now.

I wasn’t surprised he had come out to meet me. He’d been expecting me to arrive all day, after all. I was a little shocked he was offering to help with my gear, though. He wasn’t usually so … friendly.

Until recently, he’d been my instructor at the academy; one of the men responsible for making sure I was ready for battle. Now he was my partner, so I started wondering if that meant things would be different between us.

“Hurry it up; we can’t have the gate open for more than a few minutes. Safety procedures.” Jace held out a hand expectantly, so I tossed my go-bag with all my equipment and possessions to him.

I carried my helmet under my arm as I followed Jace into the tower. Mavrik crawled along behind us, chirping curiously at the unfamiliar surroundings. As soon as we had all passed into the entryway tunnel, a pair of infantrymen turned a huge crank that dropped the heavy iron gate back into place. I have to admit, having that metal partition made me feel a little safer—but only a little.

Jace gave me a quick tour of the upper levels of the tower. All the dragonriders posted here were housed in the top ten floors. Even our dragons had their own floor that had been designed like a large stable. It could accommodate several hundred of our scaly companions but there wasn’t much room to spare. They each had a stall that felt cramped. It was just big enough for a dragon to squeeze in, curl up, and sleep. The floors were covered with old hay and there were water troughs that Jace said were refilled daily.

Everything in the tower seemed dark because of how few windows there were. It was like we were all living on top of one another, with barely enough room to breathe. Because of that, the air had a twinge of salty sweatiness to it that reminded me of the gymnasium at the academy where we had combat training. Man-smell.

I got Mavrik settled into his stall, which wasn’t easy. He didn’t like the close quarters. Lucky for me, he was too exhausted to give me much trouble about it. After I fed him, filled his water trough, and rubbed down his back where my saddle had probably made him sore, his big yellow eyes started to get droopy. He yawned widely, showing me all his jagged fangs and the back of his throat, before he flopped down and put his snout on his tail. As I left his stall, he sent cozy, satisfied colors swirling through my brain.

I didn’t dare have any expectations about what my room was going to look like. Turns out that was a good thing. I probably would have been disappointed otherwise.

It wasn’t much better than Mavrik’s stall, to be honest. Granted, we were on the most dangerous and active battlefront in the kingdom. Things were bound to be rugged. When Jace let me in and tossed my bag onto the floor, he gestured to the cramped little space that we would be sharing. There wasn’t much to it: one small, skinny window, two rickety single beds on opposite sides of the room, and one washstand with a cracked mirror.

“Just be glad you aren’t on the infantry floors,” Jace said with a smirk. “There are four of them in a room this size.”

“Oh.” Frankly, I was just relieved to see a bed with my name on it. I went over to sit on it. The mattress sank horribly, and it smelled like it had been used—a lot. But I was too tired to care. “So do we get to go out into the city at all?”

Jace shrugged. “Occasionally, when we aren’t on waiting shift. There are about two hundred riders here. We all answer to Colonel Bragg. He runs this tower and every rider in it. He’s your new boss. Chances are, you won’t meet him—and that’s a good thing. You don’t want to meet him. Meeting him means you did something stupid and he’s about to hang you by your toenails for it.”

I made a mental note of that as I started unbuckling my cloak and taking off all the layers of my riding armor and weatherproofed padding beneath. I dressed down to my plain uniform, kidney belt, vambraces, and boots. Since that’s all Jace was wearing, I reasoned it was probably okay for me, too.

“Like I said,” Jace continued, “we’re all in one of two shifts. We call them squadrons. There’s Blue Squadron and Gold Squadron. We rotate duties to keep everything running as smoothly as possible. Waiting shift means you are on standby, ready to deploy immediately when the battle horn sounds. You can’t leave the tower during that time, and you’re expected to devote your spare time to resting and keeping up with your training. Then there’s working shift, which means you’ve recently come back from battle. You’ll be responsible for helping maintain your area of the tower, mucking dragon stalls, repairing gear, that kind of thing. When one squadron does deploy, we do what we can to make sure all the work gets done. We all do our part to keep this place livable. When you’re on working shift, you can leave the tower for short periods of time, but never without your wing end. Just because you’re on working shift doesn’t mean you can’t be called up for duty if there’s a dire need.”

“So which squadron are we in?” I stood up as Jace waved for me to follow him back out into the hall.

I tried to ignore the wide-eyed stares I got from all the other riders who were hanging out in the halls. It had been a while since I had gotten stared at like that; it bothered me a lot more than I expected it to. It was almost as though I could sense their emotions—which ranged from shock and awe to outright rage and disgust. None of them looked excited to see a halfbreed wandering around in a dragonrider’s uniform.

“Blue Squadron. We’re on working shift, so you and I have been assigned cargo duty. We’ll be moving crates of supplies into the tower.” Jace glanced back and gave me a sarcastic look I’d only seen him give one other time—when he was teasing Felix about his mother. “Try to contain your excitement.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sounds better than mucking stalls.”

Jace finished up the rest of his tour without any more of his weird jokes. He showed me the dining hall, the saddle rooms, the armory, the battle planning rooms, the community washroom, and the infirmary. Everything was clean. Well, as clean as you can imagine with that many men living in close quarters. Jace emphasized again and again that I was going to have to carry my own weight, clean up after myself, and not create work for anyone else.

“Places like this can be a hive for disease, so we try to keep things regulated. No outsiders are allowed in, human or otherwise,” he warned. “No visitors. No lady friends. We can’t run the risk of any incidents. It’s as much for our protection as it is for theirs. So you’ll have to save your girl-handling for when we go out.”

I couldn’t tell if this was another one of his jokes or not.

“Any questions?” He finally stopped when we were standing back outside our room.

I thought for a moment. “Just one.”

Jace arched a brow expectantly.

“How many of the other riders here know I’m a halfbreed?”

That question made him frown. His brows furrowed, and he moved his jaw around like he was chewing on the inside of his cheek. “None that didn’t need to know. I told the other members of Blue Squadron. That’s it.”

“That explains the staring, then.” I sighed and shook my head.

Jace frowned harder. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve already proven yourself. Word travels fast here. After what happened on the island, you’ll be fine.”

It was my turn to give him a sarcastic look. “Do me a favor, then. Eventually, someone is going to have a problem with me. They always do. I’m not dumb enough to think a rumor is going to change that. And when it does happen, let me handle it. I can defend my own honor.”

His frown wavered. He looked confused. Then he returned my smirk and gave a snort. “No problem.”

Turns out, there were a lot of traditions when it came to new lieutenants arriving on the battlefront. Jace informed me that I had a lot to do. I tried to be enthusiastic because from the sound of it, he had been the one responsible for planning everything. But I was so tired from flying all day; I wasn’t sure I was up to it.

“I already paid off a few guys to cover our shift unloading crates,” Jace said as he stepped into our room long enough to grab our cloaks. He shoved mine into my hands on his way toward the large staircase that led down and out of the tower. “We’re going out with the rest of the riders in our flight.”

“Flight?” I asked as I followed, trying to buckle my cloak over my shoulders without tripping down the stairs.

“The two squadrons are split into two legions, and then again into two flights. There’s sixteen riders per flight, and we always fly and operate as a group in battle,” he explained. “The flights tend to be competitive between one another, so watch your back.”

I wasn’t sure how to take that. “Why? What’ll they do?”

“Usually just pranks. Nothing serious. It’s mostly just a distraction. After you’ve spent some time knee deep in blood, you’ll welcome any distraction you can come by. Trust me.”

The stairs seemed to go on for an eternity. It took forever to get to the base of the tower, and by then, my calves were practically screaming. The thought of going back up all those steps to get to our room made me want to throw up.

There was a group of thirteen other riders waiting for us by the large open gateway that led out of the tower into the city beyond. They were all dressed in their casual uniforms, and most of them looked a lot older than I was—which wasn’t exactly shocking. I doubted many teenagers got to walk through these halls as sworn-in lieutenants.

When the other riders saw Jace, they started calling out to him, laughing and taunting him for making them wait so long. Their smiles looked friendly enough. But when they saw me, their smiles all begin to fade one by one. They stared. No one said a word, and the silence got tense.

I glanced at Jace’s back. I thought he had told them about me already. That’s what he’d said, wasn’t it?

He kept right on walking in their direction, but their tense expressions made me stop short. I couldn’t decide if they were glaring, or just looking at me like a mutant at a freak show. I did know that if this devolved into a fight, I was vastly outnumbered.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jace demanded suddenly. He was looking at me like he was afraid I was about to do something embarrassing.

I bowed my head a bit, unable to hide my apprehension as I trudged toward him again.

Behind Jace, one of the other riders let out a deep, booming laugh. It caught me completely off guard. He was an impressively huge man who loomed over everyone else, including me. He was bulky to boot, and looked like he could have cracked me in half with his bare hands if he wanted to.

The big man walked right up to me and planted one of his monstrous hands on my shoulder. He shook me a little, and my life flashed before my eyes. It wasn’t very often I had to look up to anyone else these days. But this man loomed over me like a giant. He had to be almost seven feet tall.

But that wasn’t what struck me the most about him.

“I hope you don’t scare this easy in battle, rookie,” he chuckled and patted the top of my head roughly like he was comforting a puppy. He had a broad, cunning smirk and a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. It made my throat swell shut immediately so I couldn’t make a sound.

This man—his build, the sound of his voice, his smile, even the dark golden color of his hair—he looked just like Felix! Granted, Felix wasn’t nearly this tall. He was shorter than me, in fact. But the resemblance was downright creepy.

I started to get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I may not have been all that experienced when it came to matters of love and relationship, but I could put two and two together. Immediately, I glanced over at Jace because he was the only other person around who I thought might notice the resemblance, too.

Jace met my gaze with a knowing expression. He winced, nodded, and looked away quickly.

Great.

“I’m Lieutenant Darion Prax,” the big man announced.

My bad feeling got even worse. It was like there were snakes swimming around in my gut. I could barely look him in the eye as he offered to shake my hand. Felix was going to be flying with this guy. This wasn’t good.

Prax practically shoved me toward the rest of the riders. They probably mistook my lingering shock and horror as nervousness, because they all gave me that same gruff, warm greeting. They teased me about being a rookie, but meeting them didn’t scare me nearly as much as the idea of Felix meeting Lieutenant Prax. That was going to be a horrible, awkward, and destructive moment for sure.

We left the citadel as a group and crossed through the gates and under the ramparts on our way to the city. All the way, I got harassed for being the new “baby” lieutenant. Jace told them every embarrassing thing he could remember about me, and they all got a real kick out of hearing I had been caught ballroom dancing with another student. I was beginning to realize that moment of utter humiliation was likely going to haunt me until the day I died. I also realized that being the newest lieutenant meant you were doomed to be everyone’s favorite joke.

As we made our way into the city of Northwatch, the topic of conversation gradually shifted to arguing over where they were going to take me for my first drink. They bickered about bars and taverns, and Jace gave me a nudge to get my attention. He handed me a small cotton drawstring bag with the letters “LT” stamped on the front. I could feel coins rattling around inside it as I tucked it into my pocket.

“Your first pay,” he said quietly. “You get to buy us all a round of ale with it. Congratulations.”

I laughed. “Right. Lucky me.”

The consensus was reached that we were going to a tavern near the citadel—one that was apparently a dragonrider favorite. They called it the Laughing Fox, and insisted that place had the best-looking barmaids in the city.

From the outside, it didn’t look like much. The battered wooden sign hanging over the door had a picture of a smiling fox painted on it, and the roof was slumped like the buildings on either side were squishing it. But one look through the windows gave me hope. Warm light came from inside, and when Prax opened the door, the smell of spiced ale and roasted meat made me dizzy with hunger.

We claimed a table at the back of the room, close to the fire that roared in a big stone hearth. Everyone unbuckled their swords and cloaks as they settled in, making a lot of racket that didn’t seem to bother any of the other patrons. In fact, none of them even looked up. They must have been used to hearing dragonriders and soldiers carry on. We were undoubtedly the loudest group in the room.

Two young barmaids brought us a round of warm ale, which I paid for, and several platters of roasted pork and potatoes, fresh bread, and soft cheese. I got ribbed a few times about the pretty girls, but I didn’t notice if they were human or not. I was too interested in the food. I hadn’t eaten all day, so judging anyone’s looks was not topping my list of priorities.

I started piling food onto my plate and gulping it down while Jace told them about my little show at the officer’s ball when Felix got into a fistfight with an infantryman. I wasn’t embarrassed by that story, though. I’d broken up the fight, spared Felix from getting his face bashed in, and managed not to look like an idiot in the process. That didn’t happen often for me.

“So, this Felix,” Lieutenant Prax chimed in, “I hear that’s the boy who took my bid to be my new wing end. Tell me about him. I only got a few stories from the instructors. Jace is keeping a tight lip about him. I guess he only likes bragging on his students with pointy ears.”

I grimaced. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jace’s mouth twitch. Thankfully, I had a mouth full of food so I didn’t have to answer.

A passing barmaid stopped to giggle. She had a tray of empty mugs in one hand, shapely hips, a low cut blouse, and a coy smirk on her lips. She grabbed the tip of one of my ears and tugged at it playfully. “He’s cute, even with the ears.”

I caught her giving me a wink. It made me blush and choke on my food. Women never looked at me like that.

“Gods, woman! Don’t you know men don’t want to be called cute? Puppies are cute. Babies are cute. But never tell a man he’s cute!” Prax started teasing her, and I saw yet another disturbing similarity between him and Felix. They both liked to flirt it up with girls.

“Oh, forgive me! I’m sure he’s very rugged, too,” the barmaid teased. She gave my ear one more tug before she walked away.

Jace snorted like he wasn’t impressed. “Don’t get too excited, Jae. These barmaids will flirt with anyone who might give them a big tip. They know new lieutenants are good for that. They’ll sucker you right out of every cent you have, so keep your coins in your pocket.”

“Ah yes,” Prax agreed with another booming laugh. “But it’s good fun to watch them try. Now, tell me about that boy I’m supposed to ride with. Felix Farrow, right? Isn’t he the duke’s son?”

Once again, I was really glad to have a mouthful of food. I had a legitimate excuse to look at Jace expectantly along with everyone else.

I guess he didn’t appreciate that, though, because he shot me a scathing glare before he answered, “Yes. Word is that now he’s taken charge of his family’s estate. His father passed away last year, so he’s the new duke of Farrow Manor.”

“Hah! A duke before he’s even set foot on the battlefield? That’ll be a good show,” one of the other riders in our group muttered. He sounded sarcastic and annoyed at the idea. “Those noble types always think they can order you around even if they’ve never held a blade in combat before.”

The others grumbled in agreement.

“Felix isn’t like that.” I sat up a little straighter as all eyes turned to me. I didn’t get many chances to speak up in Felix’s defense, but I certainly wasn’t going to sit here and let anyone badmouth my best friend. “His family has pressured him not to be a dragonrider from the start. He chose this because he wants it, and he’s dedicated to the cause. He’s a good fighter, and a loyal friend.”

“Is that so?” Prax was smirking at me tauntingly. “You act like you know him well.”

It was almost impossible to look at Prax when he was grinning at me like that. It was like seeing a much older Felix sitting across from me, giving me that same grin he always did when he was about to try to steal something off my plate.

“I do know him well. Better than anyone. We’ve been in training together since we were fledglings. I’m proud to know him.” I tried to sound confident.

Prax elbowed Jace a few times, nearly making him spill his mug of ale. “You hear that? A noble who’s befriended a halfbreed! Forgive me if I sound condescending, but I’ve never heard of such a thing. This Felix must be an interesting fellow indeed. I look forward to meeting him.”

One glance at Jace’s uncomfortable scowl, and I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only one who was dreading that meeting.

“Y-yeah,” I stammered nervously. “It’ll be great. I’m sure you two will get along … really well.”

Thankfully, the subject changed quickly after that. We drank and ate for several hours while the rest of the riders in Emerald Flight introduced themselves. Most of them were seasoned lieutenants who had seen more than their fair share of battle. But there were a couple of other riders who hadn’t been out of the academy for very long. Even though they all made an effort to be friendly, I could tell they were being cautious. No one wanted to be the first to ask about my mixed racial heritage.

Finally, Prax was the one who couldn’t hold in his curiosity anymore. “Jace warned us about, well, you know.” He leaned in toward me and lowered his voice. “The ears ’n whatnot.”

I smiled at him. “I’m glad he did. I’m guessing you wouldn’t have been this nice about it otherwise.”

Prax nodded in agreement. “I’ll be first to admit it, we were all pretty put off by the idea, at first. I mean, no one likes for the lines of loyalty to be blurred. But he said you were a fine rider—finest he’s seen in a while. He told us about what happened during your battle scenario. You’ve got guts for a rider who hasn’t even seen battle yet.”

I tried not to blush because that definitely wasn’t manly. The amount of ale I’d been drinking didn’t help me much, though. “I’m glad you approve. Honestly, I was surprised Jace asked me to be his wing end in the first place.”

“If you’re as fast as he says, then we’ll be glad to have you and that wild dragon of yours running point for us,” another rider from down the table chimed in and raised his mug. “A toast, to the newest blood in Emerald Flight!”

We all raised our mugs together.

“May the enemies of Maldobar hear legend of the mighty dragonriders. May they shake in terror! May they twist with dread! And may they all remember this battle cry—for it brings a fiery death!” Prax’s voice boomed so loudly everyone else in the tavern started staring.

“Thunder!” All the dragonriders at our table shouted in unison. We clanged our mugs together and took a drink.

I couldn’t keep from grinning as I joined in. It was the first time in my life I’d ever felt truly accepted by this brotherhood. I’d been a student, which did count for something. But this was entirely different. This was where I belonged. I was now and forevermore one of them. These men were my brothers, and we would fight and die together.

I had assumed that the goal of the evening was for me to get to know all the other riders in my flight. I’d expected the eating, the drinking, and the voluminous debates over pretty girls and battle scars. But that, I thought, was where it would end.

I was wrong.

The goal, which I only became aware of after it was far too late, was to get me as drunk as possible without killing me—and that last part was iffy. It was another rookie tradition, evidently. And the riders in my flight must have been having a blast watching me because they laughed and cracked jokes the whole time.

I barely made it back up all those stairs to our room. Jace walked behind me the whole way with a hand on my back to keep me from falling to my death. It was a good thing, too, because it felt like the whole world was spinning. Or maybe I was spinning. I couldn’t tell the difference. My head lulled beyond my control. My face felt hot. When we got to our room, I couldn’t even figure out how to open the door.

“You’re not much of a drinker,” Jace observed under his breath as he pushed me out of the way. He herded me farther down the hall to a different door.

I guess I was at the wrong one.

Once we were in our room, I staggered to my bed and fell face-forward onto it. “This hurts,” I managed to groan. “I feel sick.”

“You better not throw up on your bed,” he warned. “It’ll reek in here for days. Here, use this.”

A bucket hit me in the back of the head as I tried to sit up.

The room was still spinning all around me as I turned around to sit on the edge of the bed and position the bucket between my feet. “Jace, did you notice Lieutenant Prax—”

He cut me off immediately, “We are not talking about that right now.”

“But they look exactly alike—and, and I would know!” My stomach was swimming and churning dangerously.

All three of the Jaces standing across the room from me rolled their eyes. “Just hurry up and puke so I can get some sleep.”

I obliged.

My stomach rolled painfully and the next thing I knew, I was lying on my back with a cold, wet rag draped over my face. All I could do was groan. My head was throbbing, but at least I didn’t feel quite as sick anymore.

“You need to drink some water.” Jace appeared over me with a cup.

I sat up slowly, gritting my teeth against the painful knots that twisted in my gut. Sipping the water did make me feel a little better, although it still looked like the room was sloshing back and forth whenever I tried to look around. It made me nauseous all over again, and I was fully expecting to reunite with that bucket at any moment.

“Felix is going to be so upset when he finds out.” I could only imagine how that moment would play out. It was bound to be world-shattering for him. “Do you think maybe they won’t notice?”

Jace gave me an exasperated stare. “Only if they’re both blind, deaf, and brain damaged. Look, it’s best to just stay out of it. Family matters are for family members. Let them take care of it. As far as I can tell, Prax isn’t even aware he has a child. He never married. For all we know, they could be cousins. And Felix’s mother is a high noble. Slandering her name in any way is a punishable offense, even for a dragonrider.”

“You did it before,” I reminded him. “At the officer’s ball. You said you courted her.”

His mouth scrunched up like he’d tasted something sour. “That was supposed to be a joke, and the lot of you were too stupid to know any better.”

I couldn’t answer. I was too busy throwing up into the bucket again.

“Just drink the rest of that water and go to sleep,” he said with a heavy sigh. “You’ll have a ripping headache tomorrow, but you’ll live.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.” I groaned again.

He chuckled on his way back across the room to his bed. I watched him sit down and start unlacing his boots, trying to focus through the way everything still seemed to be swirling and twirling around me. I managed a bit of clarity just in time to see him taking off his tunic while he changed into his bedclothes.

I immediately wished I hadn’t.

Jace had scars all over his body. His skin was literally an anthology of violence, and it told a long, gruesome story. The worst by far were the ones around his wrists and neck. I wasn’t sure, after all things were still hazy, but those marks almost looked like they had been made by shackles.

I tried not to stare, but it was impossible. I had seen wounds before. I even had a few scars of my own. But judging from the size of some of those marks, Jace was lucky to be alive. It was a sobering thing to see.

“You know, I don’t know anything about you.” I tried to sound casual as I looked away. “We’re going to be partners from now on, so maybe we should get to know each other better. Do you have a family somewhere?”

“No,” he answered sharply.

“You mean you’re not married?” I tried again.

“No.” His unwelcoming tone didn’t change.

“So how did you become a dragonrider?”

“I was given a dragon.” His answer was sarcastic, and I couldn’t understand why. He said it like it was some kind of bad joke. He wouldn’t even look my way as he pulled a clean shirt over his head and settled into his bed.

He was putting up walls faster than I could come up with ways around them. But I wasn’t giving up that quickly. If I was going to be fighting side-by-side with him, I wanted to know something about him. “What did you do before you were a dragonrider?”

Jace made a noisy, annoyed, growling sound. “Jaevid, let it alone. What I was or what I did before this doesn’t matter. It’s irrelevant.”

“We’re supposed to be a team. We’re supposed to watch each other’s backs,” I countered. “So it’s relevant to me.”

He was silent. After a few uncomfortable minutes, I decided he wasn’t going to say anything at all.

“I just want to know if I can trust you,” I added.

That must have made him angry because his tone became venomous. “I will do my job, rookie. Don’t insult me by doubting that.”

“What happened to your last wing end?” It was a bad time to ask about that. I knew it even as the words left my lips. But I still tore open that old wound shamelessly. I wanted to make my case. I knew his last partner had been killed in combat—that was the whole reason he’d gone to Blybrig to be an instructor in the first place. He had been scouting for a new wing end.

“He fell behind.” I couldn’t see Jace’s face, but I could hear the tension in his voice. It sounded like he was clenching his teeth. “I told you that already. He couldn’t keep up.”

“So you just let him die?” I pressed. I don’t know why. Maybe I was too drunk to be sensitive. Or maybe I was hoping he’d get caught up in his emotions and tell me something useful about himself on accident.

“No,” Jace snarled furiously. He turned over to give me a smoldering glare. “Are you always this obnoxious? Shut up. Go to sleep.”

I saw what looked a lot like grief cross his face. Whatever had happened with his last partner, it had damaged him somehow. And he wasn’t over it yet.

I didn’t ask any more questions. Even though I couldn’t fall asleep right away, I stayed quiet and listened to the sounds of the tower. Men walked past our room with their armor clinking. Unfamiliar voices echoed down the hallways. The faint roar of dragons lulled me to sleep, and for an instant, I almost forgot where I was.

Then the battle horn sounded.

Fear shot through my body like a bolt of cold lightning. At first, I thought it was real. And then I noticed that I wasn’t in my bed. I wasn’t even in the tower anymore.

I was clinging to the back of a shrike, sitting in a saddle made from layers of soft animal hide.

Even in a dream, riding on a shrike felt completely different from riding on a dragon. They were much smaller, and so fast it was downright terrifying. The saddle fit down the length of the shrike’s back, and flexed with its spine as it zipped through the air on translucent feathered wings. I could feel every movement the creature made, and I had to press my body down against its back so we could fly together without becoming unbalanced. I had to move as it moved, as though we were one with our balance and weight in perfect synchronization. It was a lot more difficult than sitting in a dragon’s saddle.

All around me, the Kingdom of Maldobar spread out like a carpet of familiar landscape features. I’d spent so much time as a fledgling memorizing all the different parts of Maldobar, right down to the last mountain peak and river bend because it was part of my training as a dragonrider. I wasn’t going to be very effective or useful if I got lost. Judging by the landmarks, I knew we were on the northern battlefront—somewhere very close to Northwatch.

It was hard to pinpoint my location exactly because of what I saw right in front of me. There was a lot on my horizon. The rolling hills of the valley rushed up to meet the ominous boundary where our two kingdoms met. The dark forest of Luntharda, the land of my mother’s people, looked like a sea of rippling green leaves and white snow that stretched on forever. Even from a distance, I could sense the power of that place. It was like a wild, untamable beast crouching on the edge of Maldobar. Seeing it like this made my body shudder with anxiety.

I clung to the bone-carved handles on the shrike’s saddle as we skimmed the clouds. We were flying high, using our speed and the shrike’s mirror-like scales to camouflage ourselves. I didn’t know why, but I was terrified. It was as though I was fleeing from something, although every time I looked back, I couldn’t see anyone chasing us.

Pain struck me suddenly, hitting me right in the chest. I winced, looking down at what appeared to be the broken-off shaft of an arrow. How long had that been there? I didn’t remember being shot. Just by the look of it, it had been a few minutes because there was already a lot of blood running down the front of my clothes.

I was beginning to feel faint. I gripped the saddle as my head spun. Underneath me, the shrike let out a whine of concern. It turned its head to the side, gazing back at me like it was worried—or maybe just making sure I was still alive.

“Hurry,” I heard myself say.

But the voice wasn’t mine. It sounded like someone else; someone who spoke the elven language far better than I did. Not to mention, it sounded like a girl.

The shrike poured on more speed. We passed dozens of plumes of black smoke that rose above the clouds. I didn’t pay much attention to them at first. There were so many, and most were far away in the distance. I just assumed they came from cities, mines, or recent battles where dragon fire had been used to turn the tide. After all, large amounts of dragon venom could smolder on its own fuel for days.

Then I got close enough to actually smell the smoke.

The awful stench made me choke. My shrike sneezed and growled bitterly. Down below, I couldn’t make out exactly where it came from. We were so far up, and there was so much of it. But that putrid black smoke made my eyes water and my throat want to close up.

The shrike didn’t want to get any closer, but I wanted to see where that smell was coming from. I already had a good idea what it was. I’d smelled something sort of like it before in a prison camp outside of the royal city of Halfax. This was much worse, though.

As we broke down through the clouds, dipping quickly into view, I got my first good look.

Suddenly, it all made sense. All the training. All the preparation. All the yelling, beatings, and hours spent learning to hide my emotion behind the steel visor of my helmet. It was because of this.

The silence was haunting. Miles of carnage and ash spread out below me as far as I dared to look. The bodies of gray elves and human men were twisted together like a flame-scorched briar patch. I saw their milky, glazed eyes staring up at me. Their gazes seemed to follow me as we zipped past.

Dragons lay with their scaly hides pierced by so many arrows they looked like porcupine quills. Shrikes were torn apart like children’s toys. They all lay together in the stillness of the cold spring air.

The smell of it all stung my eyes and burned my throat. It made my insides turn sour. I urged the shrike to pull away, and he beat his wings harder to surge back above the clouds.

I thought I had gotten away from it. I just wanted that horrible image out of my mind. But as soon as we pierced the clouds again, I looked out over the horizon and saw other plumes of black smoke.

There were more than I could ever count.

My mother’s pendant was burning against my chest like a red-hot coal. The pain of it pressed against my skin made me bolt awake. I yanked it off as fast as I could.

My hands felt tired, like I really had been clinging to the saddle of that shrike. My body was damp with cold sweat, and my heart was still pounding as I looked around the small, dark room to steady myself. Everything was calm and quiet. Jace was sleeping with his back to me, and the bucket was still sitting on the floor beside my bed in case I got sick again.

I certainly felt sick, but it wasn’t from drinking too much ale now. I was shivering as I pulled back the blankets and sat up on the edge of my bed, letting my feet rest against the cool floor. I was trying to sort it all out in my mind. I’d never dreamed about riding a shrike like that. Until recently, I’d never dreamed about them at all. The tone of my nightmares had definitely changed. I could feel it—like the weight of impending doom on my chest. Something was coming.

The longer I sat, the cooler the pendant became, until at last I was able to put it back on and tuck it under my shirt. I pressed my hand over where it hung against my chest. Sile had warned me not to take it off. He acted like it was very important.

Now I was beginning to question why my mother had given it to me in the first place.

I was lost in thought, remembering my encounter with Sile. I sat that way for hours before I eventually decided to get up. It was early, but I knew I wasn’t going to be able to get any more sleep.

My commotion while I was gathering my things for a bath must have woken up Jace because he rolled over to glare at me like an angry dragon. “Do you ever sleep?”

“Not as often as I’d like.”

He didn’t say anything else as I left for the community washroom. But when I came back, he was wide-awake. In fact, he was doing pushups upside down in a handstand against the wall.

I just stood in the doorway for a moment and watched because I’d never seen anyone do pushups like that before. It looked like something I might break my neck trying to do.

“You need to keep up the habit of training every day,” he warned as he finished his last set. He did a fancy backflip and landed on his feet. “You’d be surprised how much you’ll backslide in just a week or two. Too much ale and sleep will make you go soft in the waist.”

“Right,” I answered as I shuffled over to my bed and started getting out my uniform for the day.

“Hurry up and get ready. Our work shift starts in an hour.” Jace wiped the sweat off his face and neck onto one of his tunic. Then he put it on—which I found a little disgusting.

I didn’t dare say anything about it, though. I put on clean clothes, buckled my kidney belt around my waist, and kept my opinions to myself. If Jace wanted to stink all day, then that was his business.

“After our shift, we hit the training rooms and spar until dinner,” he said as he laced his vambraces around his forearms.

I was busy doing the same thing. “Jace, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

He shot me a dangerous look, like he suspected I was about to ask him more personal questions about himself. “What is it?”

“My older brother is stationed here, too. Well, he’s actually my half-brother. He joined the infantry and left home. I haven’t seen him since I started training as a fledgling. I was wondering if I could to try to find him.”

I was fully expecting Jace to refuse. Dragonriders and infantry didn’t mix. I knew that. But I couldn’t come here and not try to find him. Roland had been looking out for me when he gave me the house my father had left behind. He’d even written me a letter, which I still had crammed into my stash of personal belongings. If there was even a chance I could see him and thank him, I wanted to take it.

Jace looked curious. He perked an eyebrow like this was news to him. “You have a brother?”

“Roland Broadfeather,” I answered. “I just want to see if he’s okay. It wouldn’t take long.”

He made an unhappy, grumbling sound as he sat down to put on his tall black riding boots. Finally, he rubbed his forehead and let out a noisy groan. “Fine. But we’ll have to make it fast. We’re not supposed to be down there in infantry territory.”

He kept on muttering under his breath the whole way down a dozen or more flights of stairs, winding a path through the tower I knew I wouldn’t be able to duplicate on my own. The inside of the tower was like a labyrinth of narrow passages lit by torches, and all the intersections and hallways looked exactly the same to me.

But Jace seemed to know precisely where we were going. He led us to a place where one of the halls opened up wider in front of a pair of large, iron doors. There were a few infantrymen dressed in their battle armor standing outside to guard the entrance, keeping track of who came and went. They stared at me as Jace and I approached. I saw one of them rest his hand on the pommel of his sword, like he wanted me to know he didn’t trust me.

We stopped a few yards away from the soldiers. I was so busy watching for one of them to draw a blade, I forgot why we’d even come until Jace gave me a nudge that nearly made me trip over my own feet.

“Go on,” he huffed. “We’ve got things to do.”

I had to swallow my dread. I didn’t want to talk to these guys; they were practically snarling at me. But there wasn’t any other choice, and I couldn’t back out now.

I started toward the soldiers. As I approached, one of them rolled up a scroll of paper. It must have been a roster of names because I could see lines and lines of writing on both sides of it.

In the interest of survival, I got straight to the point. I explained who I was, and that I was looking for my brother. When I asked if I could see him, the soldiers exchanged a dubious glance.

“We don’t have any halfbreeds here,” one of them snapped. He’d apparently taken that suggestion as an insult.

“He isn’t one,” I clarified. “He’s human. His name is Roland Broadfeather. I just want to talk to him.”

They were silent for a moment. The one holding the scroll examined me up and down like he was trying to decide if he could take me in a fight or not. I knew he couldn’t, but now wasn’t the time to start that kind of nonsense.

“I know him,” the other soldier said at last. “But he’s never mentioned you before.”

“Would you have?” I asked him bluntly.

He grinned dangerously. “No, I suppose not. But you’re out of luck anyway. Broadfeather mobilized with the rest of his battalion a few days ago. They were sent to retake Barrowton.”

That was not at all what I wanted to hear. Roland was fighting. And I wasn’t there to make sure he made it back alive. “Do you know when they might come back?”

The soldiers glanced at one another again and exchanged a shrug. “Depends on if they can take the city quickly or not,” one of them guessed. “Barrowton was overrun. It’s a regular beehive of those silver-headed demons. I wouldn’t expect to see anyone come back for another month, at least.”

I thanked them and went back to where Jace was waiting, tapping his foot impatiently. He met me with another serious but curious frown. “Well?”

I saved my explanation until we had rounded a corner and put some distance between the infantrymen and ourselves. As I told him everything they had said, Jace’s expression darkened. I caught a glint of dark suspicion in his eyes as he glanced sideways at me.

“That brother of yours, can he do any of the magical stuff you can?” he asked.

I frowned back at him challengingly. “I don’t know. We’ve never really been close.”

Jace had always been a difficult person for me to read. He didn’t say anything else about it as we made our way back to our section of the tower. But I wondered what he was thinking. I wondered why he wouldn’t tell me anything about himself. Surely a man his age, somewhere in his late thirties, had a family, even if he wasn’t married. He had to have parents, or siblings, or cousins.

We’d used up all our breakfast time indulging my curiosity, so when we got back to the dragonriders’ level of the tower, we went straight to work. Our job was simple—painfully simple. We were moving crates of supplies off the pulley-operated elevator system that ran from the ground level to the top floor of the tower.

I couldn’t help but be amazed; I’d never seen anything like it. A huge shaft went straight down the center of the tower, plunging into darkness, with several stops on a few floors along the way. A wooden platform suspended on thick ropes could be raised and lowered by operating a huge crank on the ground level. Jace said they had a team of draft horses hitched to it that operated the crank and moved the elevator up and down.

“A lot better than carrying these crates up fifty stories,” he pointed out as we worked. Together, we were moving the crates from the platform onto two rickshaw carts that we were supposed to use to get them from the elevator to the storage rooms.

I leaned over the edge to peek down into the dark shaft that plummeted straight down below us, marveling at how the ropes had all be strung together so that they were synchronized perfectly.

“Why can’t we use this?” I asked. “You know, instead of walking up the stairs every time?”

Jace grabbed the back of my tunic suddenly, jerking me back into the elevator. “First, because of stupid people like you who decide to lean over the edge and fall to their deaths. Quit that. Don’t you have any sense at all?” he growled as he got back to work loading the rickshaw. “Second, because the stairs serve as a deterrent to keep people from leaving the tower any more than necessary. It’s better to keep everyone in one place in case we’re needed on short notice.”

Walking up all those stairs was definitely a good reason for me not to leave unless I absolutely had to. Doing it sober was bad enough. Trying to climb them after the members of my flight had coaxed me into drinking too much ale was absolute torture. I wasn’t eager to repeat that scenario anytime soon.

It took eight trips and most of the day to move all the crates from the elevator to the storage room. We only stopped once for a quick bite of lunch. By the time we unloaded the last crate, my clothes and hair were soaked with sweat. Now I understood why Jace hadn’t cared too much about how dirty he was this morning.

When we were finished, we didn’t stop to rest. As soon as our shift was over, Jace led the way to the sparring room so we could train together. It was a decent sized room with skinny windows on three sides to let the cold, fresh air blow in—which felt amazing after working for so long. The ceiling was a lot higher, too, and there were an assortment of different training weapons hanging on the far wall.

A few other men were already practicing. Some were sparring with swords, and others were grappling on the floor. Jace must have had something more intense in mind because he plucked a wooden scimitar that was a similar size and weight to mine off the wall and tossed it to me. Then he took two swords for himself and nodded toward one of the big sparring circles painted on the floor.

I’ll admit, I was nervous. I had sparred against Felix and all the other avian students in my graduating class more times than I could count. I’d even sparred against Sile a time or two. But I had never once locked blades with Jace—not like this, anyway.

He had a reputation for being especially brutal. I wasn’t sure what to expect from him when it came to style and technique. I’d never seen him really fight anyone.

Our eyes met from across the sparring mat as the atmosphere between us changed abruptly. My instincts came alive, and all my senses snapped into focus. I forgot about how tired I was and I couldn’t feel how my back and arms were aching from working all morning.

“You’ve learned to fight human enemies,” Jace said as he paced the outside of the circle, spinning both of the swords over his hands with effortless speed. “Fighting against gray elves is completely different. Like our dragons, we hope to never fight on the ground. But if that becomes necessary, you need to know what you’ll be up against.”

I stepped into the sparring circle with my mind quiet and my breathing calm and steady. I never took my eyes off him. “And what is that, exactly?”

“They’re smaller, faster, with reflexes that border on the supernatural. Their bones are as hard as metal, and their strength is impressive for their stature. They will hit you hard. And they will hit you often. Their strategy is to overwhelm you, to put you on the defensive immediately.” He stared me down like a wolf, powerful and likely to strike at any given moment. I could see that dead soldier’s look in his eyes. “But their weakness is their independence. For whatever reason, they don’t fight together as a unit.”

I narrowed my own eyes and tightened my grip on my scimitar. “Shouldn’t we have learned this at the academy?”

Jace stopped his pacing and he turned to face me with a humorless smirk on his lips. “Probably. But the ruling powers decided that the role of the academy is to produce as many effective riders as quickly as possible. Some things had to be cut from the curriculum in order to meet the demand of riders to replenish the ranks. And let’s face it, not all of you are cut out to put your sword and flame against a gray elf.”

I sank slowly into a defensive stance and raised my scimitar as a signal; I was ready. “Let’s get on with it, then.”

His dark eyes glittered with feral energy as he snapped his arms out wide, a sword in each hand. That was all the warning I got. Jace rushed me like a hurricane, striking with speed and precision I’d never experienced from anyone. Sure, Felix hit with incredible force, but his blows were slower and easier to predict. Sile was fast, but his aggression made him reckless and careless when it came to defensive maneuvers.

Jace was as close to flawless as I imagined a fighter could be.

We blurred through our best combat moves, testing each other at every potential weak point. It didn’t take Jace more than a minute to find one of mine. He feigned a strike, which I fell for like a complete dummy. In a blur, he disarmed me and my scimitar went clattering across the floor as Jace planted a kick squarely in my chest and sent me flying.

I hit the ground hard, gasping for breath. There was a boot print on the front of my shirt and I could see stars winking in my vision as I got back to my feet and picked up my weapon again.

“Don’t be stupid,” he snarled. “On the battle field, you’re always one stupid mistake away from having a blade hilt-deep in your gut.”

I watched as he stepped back and assumed a defensive stance. It was my turn to strike first. There was a flicker of a smirk on his lips—which I could only imagine was his way of taunting me.

“You have some of that gray elf speed in you. I’ve seen it before,” he said. “So use it.”

My blood was boiling. I was making rookie mistakes. I couldn’t afford to be this sloppy. It wasn’t just my life on the line now; I had the rest of my brothers in Emerald Flight to think about.

“You want me to use a gray elf skill on you? That’s new.” I glared at him with renewed energy.

“I want you to do whatever you have to in order to stay alive.” He curled a finger at me, taunting me further by inviting me to attack him. “Now shut up and hit me … if you can.”

The weather turned foul on the day Felix was supposed to arrive. Powerful storms weren’t uncommon here, and the already dismal skies were growing even darker. Thunder growled over the mountains, and the temperatures plummeted below freezing. From the safety of the tower, I watched the king’s banners whipping in the violent winds. Snow mixed with frozen rain made the platforms miserable to land on. Soldiers were frantically spreading salt over them to keep them from freezing over.

I’d only been in the tower for a few days myself, but I already felt like a caged animal trapped behind these stone walls. The howling wind was like music to my ears, and the cold made me feel alive again. I breathed it all in as I watched the sky.

I saw her an instant before I heard the sound of her roar. Felix’s dragon, Nova, came in with her wings flared and her legs outstretched for landing. I winced when she finally touched down. Her feet slipped and slid dangerously on the icy platform, but she managed to stick the landing.

Right away, the soldiers working the platform cranked open the iron gate. Several of them rushed out to help guide Nova into the tower, and I followed to meet Felix as he came in out of the storm.

Prax hadn’t been able to trade his shift in the armory, so he’d asked me to come and meet Felix for him. I was more than happy to stand in and spare my best friend from that moment of personal horror for as long as possible. Just seeing Nova lumbering into the tower, shaking ice and snow from her wings, made me grin. She was making irritated chirping sounds and twitching the end of her tail like angry cat. I guess she didn’t like the cold any more than Mavrik did.

I felt Mavrik’s emotions swell in my mind. He could glimpse into my thoughts, and I guess seeing Nova got him all worked up. He started sending me excited swirls of pink and orange. Apparently they had some sort of dragon-romance brewing—or so Mavrik thought. I couldn’t tell that she was willing to give him the time of day.

He chattered at her musically when she crawled past his stall on the way to her own bed. Then he stuck out his chest, raised the black spines along his back, and tried to puff himself out to impress her. It didn’t work. She just stopped and sniffed him a few times before moving on.

I gave him a sympathetic pat on the snout. “Sorry, buddy. Looks like she’s playing hard to get this time.”

Mavrik grumbled his agreement and curled up in his stall again, snorting an irritated breath over the end of his tail.

Suddenly, someone punched me in the arm. I swung back immediately without looking. There was only one person in the world who did that to me.

“Miss me?” Felix laughed as he took off his helmet. His lengthy, dark golden hair was a tangled mess from being crammed under it for so long.

Despite the inevitable chaos he was most likely about to endure when he met his partner, I was still glad to see him. Of course, I couldn’t tell him that. The laws of masculinity forbade it. “Nah, not really.”

“You never were a very good liar.” He gave me one of his usual smirks, but I noticed right away that something was off. He wouldn’t look me in the eye for very long, almost like he was trying to hide something.

I followed him to Nova’s stall, and stood by the door while he got her settled in and took off her gear. I was silently wondering what was going on, or if something had gone wrong with his mother. He looked tired—which was completely understandable. Flying in weather like that was like being sloshed around in a bucket full of icy water.

Once Nova was settled, I picked up Felix’s bag and nodded down the corridor that led into the tower. “Quite a place, huh?”

He nodded, but still wouldn’t look my way. “No kidding. I couldn’t see much, though. This storm is pretty bad. My visibility was lousy.”

We walked together in silence almost the entire way to the room he was going to be sharing with Prax. With each step, I realized more and more just how awkward and quiet he was being. I started to get afraid that maybe his mother had already told him about Prax. Did he know? Was he upset? Should I even say anything about it until he brought it up on his own? Jace was right; it was a personal family matter. It wasn’t any of my business. I shouldn’t be sticking my nose in it unless I was invited to.

When we got to the door, Felix hesitated. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek vigorously and his brow was furrowed. We stood there for a few seconds while he just stared at the door like that. Eventually, he seemed to snap out of it. He flicked me a glance, forced a smile, and reached out to take his bag.

I hesitated to give it to him. “Is everything all right?”

Our eyes locked, and I saw it plainly; there was worry and absolute sadness written all over his face. I’d never seen him like this before. But he acted like he was ashamed of it; like he’d done something really horrible and he didn’t want me to know about it.

So I dropped his bag on the ground between us, put my boot on it, and crossed my arms. I wasn’t moving until I got some answers. “What’s this about?”

I was expecting him to scowl or maybe even fight back a little. But his shoulders dropped and he looked away dejectedly. “Fine. But I’m not talking about it here. Is there somewhere we can go?”

I knew of a place that was sure to be deserted at this time of day. After we threw his bag onto his bed and took off his outer layer of armor and padding, I led the way up to the sparring room. I knew everyone was bound to still be working their shift jobs, so we had the room to ourselves.

Felix glanced around for a moment like he was taking it all in. Then he strolled over to one of the windows that lined the two exterior walls, staring out at the raging spring storm that was wailing against the glass. He had that strained expression on his face again, and I noticed he was clenching his hands into fists so hard his knuckles were white.

Standing behind him, I decided to wait until he felt like talking. It didn’t take long. After a few minutes, he turned back around and leaned against the wall.

“The king issued a decree demanding that all gray elf refugees in Maldobar be immediately deported from their residences and taken to Halfax.” He didn’t mince words or dance around the topic, but he couldn’t hold my gaze while he spoke. “The prison camp at Halfax has been rebuilt. It’s much bigger than it was before. I passed over it on my way to my family’s estate. I could see the smoke for miles and miles. When I got back home, I heard about the decree. The gray elves are being taken there by the thousands every day from all corners of the kingdom—men, women, and children. And judging by the smoke rising out of that cesspool, it’s not a big mystery what is happening to them there.”

My heart was beating so loudly, and the silence between us was so heavy, I knew he would be able to hear it.

“It isn’t right. Those people came here for shelter.” Felix looked up at me at last. I saw bitter wrath blazing in his eyes. “The king isn’t interested in winning this war—he’s interested in exterminating their entire race.”

I was so stunned by what I’d just heard my reactions were delayed. Panic made my blood run as cold as the freezing rain outside. I was angry. I was speechless and utterly horrified. All I could say was, “Why?”

Felix shook his head. “Does he need a reason? He’s the king. His word is law. No one can refute it.”

My legs were beginning to get weak. I turned around to lean against the wall. A few seconds later, my knees buckled and I found myself sitting on the floor next to him.

“I gave word to every servant in my household to give secret refuge to any gray elf they found on my family’s grounds,” he said very quietly as he sat down next to me. “I signed up to be a soldier, to fight in defense of Maldobar. But I won’t be anyone’s executioner. It’s one thing to fight their warriors on the battlefield. It’s another to butcher innocent civilians.”

Doubt crept into my mind. What was I doing here? It was only a matter of time until I was sent to fight. In a few days, or maybe even hours, I could be facing this same choice—to kill my mother’s people or not. And what would I do then?

“As far as I know, halfbreeds are exempt from the decree. Technically, people like you aren’t even supposed to exist, right?” Felix gave me a nudge like he was trying to cheer me up. “I’m sorry, Jae.”

“I saw Sile before I left Blybrig,” I blurted suddenly. I don’t know why I told him. Sile had warned me not to tell anyone. But Felix was one of the only people in my life I knew I could always trust.

His brows went up in surprise. “He came back? Why?”

I bowed my head slightly and buried my face in one of my hands. “He told me to go to Luntharda. He said he wanted me to see what my mother’s people were going through. He said there was some sort of ritual that I had to perform in order to tap into my full power.”

Now Felix was the one being quiet. When I looked at him again, I could almost see the wheels turning in his eyes. He was busy thinking about something. “So I guess this means your power does have something to do with the gray elves,” he whispered.

I cringed. “I guess so.”

“Do you think he knew this was coming? This mass genocide?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “He didn’t say anything about it. But then again, he probably wouldn’t have told me even if he did know.”

We sat there without saying a word for what felt like a long while. In that time, my fears and worries ran rampant through my brain. I was confused. I didn’t know what part I had to play in all this, or what my power, the god stone, or my dreams had to do with it all—but there was no escaping it now.

“So that just leaves one question,” Felix said as he let out a deep sigh.

I was really curious how he had narrowed everything down to one question. I couldn’t even wrap my mind around most of what was happening now. I sent him a dubious look and waited to hear what that one question was.

He laughed humorlessly, like this whole situation was cruelly ironic to him. “What amazing, unexpected thing are we going to do next?”

Hearing such awful news from Felix had effectively distracted me from what was sure to come next. He was a new lieutenant, which meant he had a night full of brotherly bonding and excessive drinking ahead of him. Not to mention, he was about to meet his partner—the man I also suspected was his real father.

I should have warned him.

As soon as I heard the sparring room door open, I regretted having talked myself out of it. There definitely wasn’t time bring it up now. Jace, Prax, and a few of the other riders in our flight were coming our way.

“Thick as thieves aren’t they?” Prax chuckled as they gathered around us, laughing and peering curiously at their newest rookie.

Felix and I got up right away. I kept my mouth shut while my best friend started introducing himself around the group. He shook hands with the other men, smiled, and carried on like nothing was the matter.

That is, until he got to Prax.

“I’m Lieutenant Darion Prax,” he said in his cheerful, booming voice. “I take it you took the bid to act as my wing end?”

Felix hesitated when the big rider extended one of his hands to shake. Seeing them standing together, face to face, was downright eerie. Felix wasn’t nearly as tall as Prax was, but his brawny build was practically the same. They definitely had the same wavy, dark gold hair, although Prax’s was beginning to turn gray. They had the same face-shape, the same casual demeanor, and the same cunning twinkle in their dark eyes. There was no way they couldn’t be related. They just had to be.

The longer I stood there comparing all their similarities, the harder it was for me to keep my expression neutral. Anxious tension put a hard knot in the back of my throat. I started noticing the way everyone else in our group was looking at them, too. Jace and I weren’t the only ones who were seeing it now. The question was … would Felix and Prax notice it, too?

Prax’s hand hung out there, waiting to shake Felix’s, for what felt like an eternity. I sucked in a sharp breath.

Then Felix smiled. He laughed. And he shook Prax’s hand like nothing was wrong. “Yes, sir. You came very highly recommended. I look forward to riding with you.”

That was it.

They went on talking like nothing was wrong. In fact, they seemed to really be hitting it off. They were laughing and talking, already acting like they had known each other for years. I didn’t see any hint of recognition in either of their faces.

As we all started to leave the sparring room, I stepped in closer to Jace wanting to ask him about it. Before I could get a word out, Jace punched me in the side hard enough to make me stagger and wheeze. He shot me a scorching glare of warning and growled, “Stay out of it. It’s none of our business.”

I wheezed again and nodded.

Once everyone had gotten off their daytime work shifts and met down at the bottom of the tower, we set out into the city for another welcoming party. Everyone started bickering like a bunch of angry hens about which bar was best, and yet we ended right back at the Laughing Fox again. I was starting to suspect this was a typical routine for them. No wonder it was known as a “dragonrider bar.”

Knowing the evening was going to be geared toward getting Felix as drunk as humanly possible, I was extra cautious about how much I was drinking. Felix unfortunately had no idea what was going on. I sort of doubted he would have put up much of a fight, though, even if he had known. Four mugs of ale in, he was starting to slur and was having a hard time sitting upright. But I’d seen Felix drink a lot more than that, so I knew we still had a long night ahead of us.

I sat next to Jace and nursed my one mug all night. Thankfully, no one noticed. Or if they did, they didn’t care. Felix was their victim tonight, so I was left alone for the most part.

That is, until one of the barmaids started getting a little more friendly than usual with me. I still remembered what Jace had told me about them—how they were just after tips and being a new lieutenant made me an easy target. So the first time she ran a hand through my hair teasingly, I didn’t think much of it. Granted, I wasn’t exactly used to being petted like that, but it didn’t really mean anything.

Or so I thought.

She was pretty, I guess. That was this bar’s claim to fame, after all. But I tried not to make too much eye contact with her. She had ginger-colored hair tied up in ribbons with a few curly pieces framing her face. She batted her eyes at me, and always made a point to touch me somehow whenever she came around the table to bring us another round of ale or food. The other riders in my flight noticed, and the heckling inevitably started.

“Guess she’d like to take a nibble of those pointy ears, eh?” Prax laughed.

“You should have seen him juggling the girls at last year’s ball,” Felix chimed in. “It’s like they didn’t even notice he was a halfbreed. Totally not fair.”

Beside me, Jace snickered in agreement. “It’s the cheekbones. Women go stupid for that kind of thing.”

Despite my best efforts to keep it in, my face was burning with embarrassment. I couldn’t even think of anything to say in my own defense. Not that it would have done me any good if I’d tried.

Thankfully, I got a good excuse to leave the bar for a few minutes when Felix started to get sick. After six mugs of ale, I knew he was bound to pass out or throw up—maybe even both. So when he started weaving dangerously in his seat and complaining that his stomach hurt, I knew it was time to go outside for some air.

“Come on. Let’s take a breather,” I said while trying to coax him out of his chair. I let him lean on me as I hauled him out the back door of the bar.

Felix didn’t put up much of a fight. But he did insist, amidst his slurred words, that we were coming back for more. The rest of the riders in our flight, Jace and Prax included, cheered him on as we went. I guess they approved of his determination to jump right back into a fresh mug of ale as soon as he was finished.

No one could ever accuse Felix of being a lightweight. He could drink with the best of them. But those men in our flight were really putting him through the ringer tonight. We barely made it out the back door before Felix was on his knees, throwing up in the alleyway. I couldn’t do much for him except make sure he didn’t choke or pass out.

“You should probably take a break,” I suggested as I watched him heave. “Have some water or at least eat something before you drink anything else, yeah?”

I couldn’t understand his reply. It was garbled as he started throwing up again. He definitely needed to drink something other than ale or liquor if he was going to make it through tonight with his dignity intact.

The weather outside was still miserable. Where we stood in the dark, narrow alley behind the bar, there was snowy slush gathered along the sides of the cobblestone street. The wind was still blowing fiercely, and without my cloak, I was feeling every puff of frigid air against my body.

Felix was standing up again, wiping his chin on his sleeve, and squinting at me like he was too drunk to remember who I was. I started to loop one of his arms over my shoulder when a sound made us both stop cold in our tracks. It wasn’t anything either of us had ever heard before—at least, not like this. But as soon as we heard it, both our gazes snapped upward to the tower that loomed over us.

The battle horn was blaring.

We hurried back inside where Jace and the others were putting on their cloaks and getting ready to leave. No one was smiling or laughing anymore. We only waited long enough for Felix to pound a glass of water before we left the bar in a hurry, the horn still blaring in the cold night wind. Torches were being lit along the ramparts, and I could see the dark silhouettes of soldiers running to and fro. People were trickling out of their houses and shops, holding candles and wearing heavy coats, to peer curiously up at the tower.

No one in our group spoke as we jogged all the way back through the gates into the tower. We ran up the stairs, and everyone was thoroughly winded and sweaty by the time we made it to the dragonriders’ levels. Inside, the halls were packed with men and gear. It didn’t take us long to figure out that Gold Squadron was being deployed to Barrowton.

Memories of my training in the academy, of many sleepless nights spent dreading the mournful wail of the battle horn, came rushing back as I stood against the wall with Jace and the other riders of Blue Squadron. We watched as those being mobilized rushed to prepare. They came out of their rooms fully dressed, their helms under their arms and go-bags over their shoulders.

As the riders of Gold Squadron filed down to the stable, we followed in complete silence. My nerves were drawn tight. I was on edge watching all these steel-eyed men gather in full battle dress to hear Colonel Bragg give them a quick brief of their situation. It wasn’t something the rest of us were required to hear, but it wasn’t something I would have dared miss.

The atmosphere was tense and so quiet you could have heard a pin drop as he explained they would be departing immediately, keeping tight formation because of the storm. They would be making for Barrowton for a dawn surprise assault. Things weren’t going well in the effort to retake the city, apparently. The infantry on the ground had called for aid.

And the Dragonriders of Northwatch would answer.

All I could think about was my brother. Roland was at Barrowton. He was one of those infantrymen calling for help. I couldn’t even consider that he might already be dead. Roland was strong. He would survive—or so I prayed.

There were about fifty riders in Gold Squadron, and watching them all mount up with their armor gleaming was a beautiful sight. Something about it made emotion stir in my chest. I was proud to be counted among them, but I was also terrified of when my own day came to be standing where they were.

The heavy gates of the tower were rolled open. One by one, the riders filed out into the howling spring storm. It was like watching bats exiting a cave as they all spiraled and swarmed at the top of the tower, waiting until everyone was out to assume their formations. They vanished like phantoms into the gloom of the cold night, leaving us all in a state of numb silence.

Then came the boom of a familiar roar.

I knew it right away—even before I saw the shape of a monstrous, winged black beast sailing past the tower. Icarus let out a second, bellowing roar that shook the very foundations of the tower. He spat a plume of flame that lit up the dark, illuminating the black-armored rider sitting on his back.

All the dragonriders standing around me inside the tower cheered in triumph. They chanted the name “Seraph” over and over like it was some sort of battle cry. Just the sight of Icarus was absolutely terrifying. I couldn’t blame them for being inspired by it. But knowing it was the woman I loved sitting on his back, riding toward blood and doom, made it impossible for me to join in.

“They’ve lost almost ten thousand men trying to retake that city,” Jace said quietly as we all sat around a table in the dining hall. We’d gone there with the intention of finishing up Felix’s welcoming party, but no one seemed to feel much like drinking anymore.

“It’s idiocy,” another rider muttered in agreement. “Barrowton is overrun. We cannot take it back. Not without burning it to the ground.”

Prax shook his head. “Colonel Bragg would never support such a decision. There are still too many civilians trapped inside. The gray elves are wise to keep them alive. It’s the only thing that prevents us from raining dragon fire upon their heads.”

Without thinking much about it, I had started fidgeting with my necklace. I twisted it in my fingers thoughtfully, listening and trying to process it all. I didn’t offer my opinion. I didn’t have much of one yet, anyway. After the news Felix had dumped on me earlier, seeing the other riders deploy, and catching a glimpse of Beckah as she followed them into battle … I had a lot on my mind.

“That she-elf harpy must be leading the forces out of their jungle again,” I heard someone else growl bitterly. “She’s the only one who has been able to rally their forces in the past.”

Jace snorted with disgust. “It should have been us. We should have been sent to retake the city.”

“You just want another crack at her, eh?” Prax chuckled softly, like he was trying to ease some of the tension in the room. “She slips through your fingers like hair through a comb. Face it, Rordin. You’ve met your match in that witch.”

Hearing something even remotely personal about Jace made me snap out of my trance. “What are you talking about? What witch?”

“The princess of the gray elves. She’s the only one to ever outmaneuver him in the air.” Prax was grinning knowingly at Jace, who was scowling down into his mug like he wished we would change the subject. “He takes it rather personally.”

Even Felix was acting curious now. “How do you know she’s a princess?”

“The gray elves dress their royalty in a long war headdress. It’s easy to spot; you can’t miss it. It has the white horns of a deer on it,” Prax explained. “Jace has brought down all three of the princes before her in an effort to demoralize our enemy into surrender. They may not be fond of fighting together as an organized unit, but they won’t fight at all without someone to lead them. But now he’s met his match in that crafty little she-demon.”

“I wounded her last time, and you know it,” Jace snapped in angry defiance. “She went limping back to her forest before I could catch up to her. It won’t happen again. She won’t escape me twice.”

Memories of my last dream flickered through my mind in an instant. I still remembered vividly what it had felt like to be clinging to the back of a shrike, wounded, and fleeing toward Luntharda. I’d never had a dream quite like that before. That is, I’d never been someone else in my dreams. I’d always been myself, usually invisible and irrelevant to whatever was happening around me. But that time, I’d been a wounded gray elf—a wounded female gray elf. Surely that was just a coincidence, wasn’t it?

The sick, swirling sense of dread in the pit of my stomach begged to differ.

Prax leaned over to me, interrupting my moment of private panic, and murmured, “She lost him in the clouds. Their speed and the camouflaging scales of a shrike make it near impossible to track them when they hide like that.”

“I’m not deaf, you know.” Jace slammed his mug down on the table, making all the dishes rattle. “Mark my words. I will have her head on a pike the next time we meet.”

A few of the other riders sitting around us laughed and rolled their eyes. They started going on about how embarrassed they would be if a woman had shown them up like that. I wondered how they would feel if they knew their so-called hero, Seraph, was a woman, too. I doubted they would find that very funny.

“So, what are the chances of us actually getting called up to Barrowton?” Felix piped up. I suspected he was changing the subject on purpose. He was the only other person besides Sile and myself who knew who Seraph really was.

Thankfully, it worked.

“The only reason we would be called is if they need reinforcements or if there’s another battle elsewhere that requires our attention,” Jace answered. “We’re immediately put on waiting shift. The next horn that sounds is meant for us.”

“And so we wait,” Prax agreed.

I noticed there was something strange in the pocket of my pants—something I definitely hadn’t put in there—when we got back to our room later that night. Jace was busy grabbing up things to take to the washroom, so he didn’t notice when I pulled a small square of folded paper from my pocket. I was baffled. How had that gotten in there?

Then I remembered the barmaid at the Laughing Fox. She’d been awfully touchy feely with me, which was beyond strange. Human girls weren’t usually so eager to be friendly with me. She must have slipped it into my pocket when I wasn’t paying attention.

At the risk of being teased in case it was something embarrassing, I waited until Jace had left to take his bath before I read it. It was just a small slip of paper with a few plain words scribbled on it. But the sight of them made my adrenaline surge:

On the roof. —B.D.

I quickly grabbed my cloak and sword, just in case, and started out the door. The tower was fairly quiet this late at night. Only a few people were still milling around in the halls, and none of them gave me a second look as I slipped to the staircase and started to climb.

It wasn’t far up to the top level of the tower, just four or five flights. But the roof was barred by a large iron-reinforced door, made like a hatch, which was held closed with two bars of solid iron. Each one of those bars weighed nearly a hundred pounds, so it took me a moment to move them so that I could open the door. As soon as I did, fierce cold wind came howling into the small, dark corridor. Another narrow staircase led up to the very top of the tower, which was open to the stormy night sky.

Against the roaring winds and frozen rain, I saw the shape of someone standing at the top of that staircase. At first glimpse, it looked like a knight; a petite man clad in armor that shimmered like obsidian glass and adorned in painted golden wings, even on the gauntlets and helmet, giving the wearer an angelic appearance.

I stretched out my hand toward the black armored knight, who had started descending the steps. Once we were both inside, we began working together to push the door closed again to keep out the cold.

Then she took off her helmet.

Beckah’s long dark hair fell down over her shoulder in a braid. Some of her bangs were sticking to the moisture on her forehead and the sides of her face, and her lightly freckled cheeks were flushed from the cold wind. When her bright green eyes looked up at me in the darkness, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

I kissed her. It was a much deeper, more passionate kiss than any we’d ever had before. She put her arms around my waist and hugged me close, and for a long time we just stood like that. I couldn’t believe how much I’d missed her in such a short amount of time. Under all that armor, she was still the simple, beautiful girl I’d eaten peaches with on the beach in Saltmarsh. She was still the Beckah I loved.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered as she laid her head against my chest. “I’ve missed you so much.”

I ran my fingers through her soft hair and wished I could have said the same to her. But I couldn’t. I didn’t want her to be here, on the battlefront, risking her life like this. I wanted her somewhere safe. Unfortunately, the world seemed to be running out of safe places to be.

“How did you know I’d be at that bar?” I asked.

She pulled back some—just enough to give me a coy little grin. “I saw Felix and Nova arrive this morning. Lucky for me, dragonriders gossip worse than old ladies in a knitting circle. I had heard you both wound up in the same flight, so I knew you’d be coming out tonight. I followed you all to the bar, then I paid off that barmaid to slip my note to the naïve-looking halfbreed in a dragonrider uniform,” she explained.

She sounded rather proud of herself, and I have to admit, she was much sneakier than I had given her credit. I already knew she was smarter than I was, which could be scary at times. It was a good thing, though. She probably wouldn’t have lasted this long, disguising herself as a man and fighting in battle alongside dragonriders, if she hadn’t been so clever.

“I thought you were going to Barrowton,” I said. “I saw you leaving with them.”

Beckah put her head back against my chest and sighed. “I am going, but not yet. I had to see you first. Besides, I can’t fly with them in their formations; it would be much too risky. It’s better for me to arrive fashionably late to see where I’m most needed once the battle is underway. Icarus’s presence alone makes the enemy forces scatter and panic. He takes good care of me, you know.”

I held her tighter. Once again, I didn’t trust myself to say anything because I might slip up and tell her how I really felt. I didn’t want her involved in this. I didn’t like that she was fighting. But I knew better than to start that conversation. This was where she was meant to be, and how I felt about it didn’t matter. Arguing about it wasn’t going to make any difference.

“There’s something else, Jae. Something I have to tell you.” Her voice grew softer so that she was nearly whispering. “I’ve thought every day about what you told me in Halfax, about your father and the god stone. But it wasn’t until I came here that I started to understand what the stone might mean in all this.”

Now I was the one pulling back so I could look her in the eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“The god stone,” she stared up at me earnestly, as though she were afraid I wouldn’t believe her, “it’s precious to the gray elves somehow. I’m not sure why, but they’re desperate to get it back. So desperate that they are willing to send their soldiers on suicide mission after suicide mission just to find it.”

“How do you know this?”

Her expression faltered. She looked down and didn’t say anything at first. Then she spoke in a quiet voice, “You’ve heard of the city called Dayrise? It was once a place much like Barrowton—a flourishing trade stop near the border of Luntharda. It’s nothing but ashes now. Icarus and I hid out there for a while when I first began to fight.”

Beckah’s voice became unsteady. She put her hands on my chest, although I couldn’t feel any of her warmth because she was still wearing her riding gauntlets. “I couldn’t bear to stay there for long. It’s essentially a mass grave. But I found one building still standing. Inside it were the remains of a dozen or so gray elves. They weren’t much more than charred bones gripping rusted swords, but one of them had used the point of a dagger to etch something into the walls. Two words … ”

“Return it,” I finished for her.

Her eyes grew wide. For an instant, she almost seemed afraid of me. “H-how did you know that?”

“Those words have been echoing in my mind for years now,” I explained. “Until now, I didn’t understand why. Beckah, what if I’m the one who is supposed to return the god stone to Luntharda? What if that’s why I’m having all these dreams?”

“Jae, you can’t be serious.” Beckah was shaking her head in protest. “Regardless of what your father did, that doesn’t mean you have to be the one making amends for all his mistakes. Going into that jungle is suicide, even for someone like you. You saw what happened on the Canrack Islands. Your power was essentially useless there. How do you know it will be any different in Luntharda? And even if you made it to one of the gray elf cities, the likelihood that they would even listen to—”

“I know that!” The words came out much more harshly than I intended. I was so frustrated by it all, but I tried to soften my tone when I spoke to her again. “You told me once, when Icarus first chose you, that you felt like there was something you were supposed to be doing. That’s how I feel now—like every force in the universe is pointing me toward something that I’m supposed to be doing. I don’t know what’s waiting for me at the end of all this, and frankly thinking about it terrifies me. But I may not have a choice.”

She didn’t look convinced. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and she took a step away from me.

I wasn’t letting her get away that easily. I knew she could be stubborn, just like her father. So I put my arms around her again and dragged her toward me. She resisted a little, at first. Then I kissed her again. And the second our lips touched, I felt her begin to relax.

“You know just as well as I do that feelings like these are impossible to ignore. I can’t outrun them. I can’t push them away. I’ve been trying to do that for years, and it’s driving me insane,” I said once I was sure she would hear me out. “I’m not interested in dying, either, just for the record.”

“Please don’t do anything stupid,” she muttered angrily.

I smiled and put one of my hands against her cheek, brushing a bit of her hair away from her eyes. “I’ll try. At least, no stupider than usual. I don’t have any plans to go tromping through that jungle, believe me. Felix and the others need me here.”

There were tears in the corners of her beautiful green eyes as she looked up at me again. Her lip was trembling as she spoke. “So do I, Jae. I can’t lose you. I should have listened to Mom. I should never have fallen in love with a dragonrider.”

“That’s not fair.” I wiped away one of the tears that was sliding down her cheek. “You became one, too. I’d call that a double standard.”

I managed to solicit a weak smile from her. “It doesn’t count if I’m not official.”

“Oh it definitely counts.” I laughed and tugged on her cheek playfully. “Besides, now you know how I feel every time I see you flying off without me.”

We both became quiet as we stood in the dark, with nothing but the sound of the wind howling outside the tower to fill the silence. I let my forehead rest against hers. She always made me feel braver than I knew I was. Her strength gave me strength. I prayed I made her feel the same way.

Because we were both going to need it.

I couldn’t sleep once I got back to my room. Everything was pitch black. Jace was sound asleep in his bed. Except for him stirring and wheezing every now and then, everything was completely silent. But my mind was restless with the possibility that my suspicions were correct. Was the god stone really the cause of this war? Was it so important to the gray elves that they were willing to risk all out war for two decades just to get it back? I didn’t see how it could possibly be worth all that trouble. There were just too many unanswered questions.

It took forever for me to finally drift off. And when I did, I only got a few short hours of sleep before it was time to get up and start working again. We all had to work extra hard to carry the load of Gold Squadron while they were away. That meant longer shifts for everyone, and even some different jobs just to pick up the slack.

Jace and I wound up working a second shift mucking out dragon stalls, which is gross anyway but even worse when you’re cooped up in a tiny room with not much ventilation. We worked all day, taking breaks only long enough to grab a gulp of water or a bite to eat. There wasn’t even much time to talk, not that anyone seemed to feel much like talking. The atmosphere was still just as tense as it had been when Gold Squadron departed. It was like we were all holding our breath and straining to listen in case the battle horn sounded again.

Two days later, at the end of yet another long workday, the tension had begun to ease off a little. Everyone in Emerald Flight was settling down at one of the long tables in the dining hall. Strong ale and hot food always got the men talking, so I settled in to listen and enjoy my meal. Sitting between Felix and Jace, I had a front row seat to the antics of my comrades. Fortunately, tonight I wasn’t the focus of their abuse.

One of the riders was busy teasing Felix mercilessly. I guess him being the newest between the two of us made him the target of choice. “So Long-Hair-And-Pointy-Ears tells us you’re a duke already. The duke of Farrow Estate, no less! A bit young for that, eh? Can you even lace your boots up by yourself?”

“Isn’t that what servants are for?” Felix just laughed, like he was taking it all in stride. That’s how he handled all their teasing—even when the subject was about how similar he and Prax looked. He just sloughed it off like it was nonsense.

It was a good thing, too, because that was becoming one of their favorite topics to taunt him over.

“I hear your lovely mother had quite an eye for dragonriders back in the day,” another rider chimed in. He was one of the younger lieutenants who had graduated only a year or two ahead of me.

That was a step over the line. We all knew it. It was one thing to compare them or tease them about having the same awful taste in liquor, and a completely different thing to bring a guy’s mother into it.

Those of us who could get away with it snuck him a punishing glare for even going there. He flinched and cursed, so someone must have kicked him under the table. I wished I were sitting closer so I could have kicked him, too.

Now it was a salvage mission. Everyone tried to keep laughing, but it was painful and obviously forced. We were all sitting stiffly, bracing for what had the potential to be explosive, unpleasant, and maybe even deadly.

Felix just rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard that one before. Jace beat you to it last year.”

“Bah! Jace isn’t old enough to remember it.” Prax’s booming voice was so loud it filled the whole dining hall. “Those were grander days, when the war had just begun. And I was a much younger, much better looking man.”

“It’s hard to imagine you ever being good looking,” Jace sneered, carefully trying to steer the subject away from Felix’s mother.

It worked, thank the gods. Prax started trying to defend his masculine beauty, whatever that was, and Jace baited him on. I let out a breath of relief and glanced sideways at Felix, who still looked blissfully unaware of what we all suspected was more than just a long string of bad jokes at his expense. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed just how much he and Prax favored one another. Maybe he really was brain damaged.

Despite Jace’s repeated warnings that I should keep my nose out of it, I wondered once again if I should tell him. On the one hand, Jace was absolutely right—it wasn’t any of my business. But then again, Felix was my best friend. Not telling him felt cruel somehow, almost as though I were betraying him.

I was at war with myself over it by the time we finished dinner and retired to our rooms. Since my life had fallen back into a comfortable, fairly predictable routine, I could move around and function without giving it much thought. Jace noticed I was distracted, though, and he called me on it while I was packing up a few things to take to the washroom.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said as he planted himself firmly in front of the door. “You need to let it go. A man’s personal life is his own business. Felix is more than capable of handling this without anyone else meddling in it.”

I frowned. “How did you know I was—?”

“Because you’ve had that same stupid scowl on your face this whole time,” he interrupted.

I didn’t like being chastened like I was still some sort of kid, especially not when it came to stupid scowls. Jace had no room to talk. “Well, you would know, I guess. I’m supposed to be partnered with you until death and I still don’t know anything about you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jace snapped. “Whatever or whoever I was before this is irrelevant.”

“It’s relevant to me,” I snapped back just as fiercely. “This isn’t just a job for me. It’s not just a payday, and I’m not here to be a tourist. Being this—becoming a dragonrider—is all that saved me from ending up in a mountain of charred corpses in some prison camp. I don’t expect you to understand that at all. But it does matter to me who I’m partnered with. The heart of the man standing next to me in battle always matters.”

When he didn’t retort, I picked up my stuff and stormed past him toward the door. I was muttering under my breath, wondering out loud why he had even chosen me to be his wing end in the first place. Just because I could do a few nifty magic tricks? So what. Big deal. My power had barely been enough to get us through the battle scenario. I doubted it would do much for me in a real battle.

Jace grabbed my arm in a vice-like grip to stop me before I could get out of the room. His eyes met mine, and there was an eerie stillness in his gaze. “I do understand that. We have a lot more in common than you realize. But unlike you, I choose not to wear it on my sleeve. Some things are better left in the past.”

I didn’t know how to take that. At least, not at first. But the words came to me suddenly, and I felt bolder in that moment. “There’s a difference, between wearing it on my sleeve … and not being ashamed of it.”

He let me go, and we stared each other down in silence. I could never tell what he was thinking. His gaze was as unreadable as the stars in daylight. But whoever he was, or whatever he had been before he became a dragonrider, he was apparently determined never to let that history surface. He’d buried it deep. I just wondered if he had done it out of necessity, or out of shame.

Once we had both settled in for the night and the tower had gotten quiet again, I found myself toying with my necklace as I lay awake. I started thinking about things I hadn’t in a long time—like the paludix turtle and how the gray elves had treated us after we had helped set them free. They had been kind enough to share their food, though I suspected that was only because we had stuck our necks out to save them from the slavers.

That had been my last face-to-face encounter with my mother’s people. It had been years ago, and yet the memories were still fresh in my mind. I remembered the way that young gray elf man, Kiran, had looked at my necklace. He’d acted like he recognized it, though I couldn’t imagine why. In all my years living with my mother in the gray elf ghetto, I had never seen anyone else wearing one before. To my recollection, my mother hadn’t even worn it. That’s why I’d never thought much of it in the first place. If it had been truly precious to her, wouldn’t she have worn it herself?

I was so caught up in my thoughts and memories that the sudden blare of a horn made me bolt upright. Across the room, Jace did the same. Through the darkness, we exchanged a meaningful look.

It was the battle horn blaring again.

I wish I could say that I was cool, calm, and collected as I gathered my armor and dressed for my first battle. But I wasn’t. My heart felt as though it had quit beating. I couldn’t keep my hands from shaking. Cold sweat poured down my back as I quickly dressed in the layers of weatherproofed padding. I had to clench my teeth to keep them from chattering as I buckled on each piece of my armor. I’d done this a thousand times or more, and yet now it was a struggle just to remember which piece went where.

When I thought Jace wasn’t looking, I checked to make sure Beckah’s good luck token was still in its usual place tucked under one of my vambraces. I always kept it with me now. Seeing it gave me courage. It was just a handkerchief—one she had embroidered with a blue and black dragon—but it meant the world to me. Especially right then.

I went to grab my helmet, but my hands were still trembling so badly that I dropped it. It went clanging across the room and I cursed out loud. The noise must have alerted Jace to what a wreck I was because he turned around and examined me up and down. Without saying a word, he walked over and began adjusting the straps to my shoulder pauldrons.

“T-thanks,” I stammered.

He made a disapproving sound and gruffly lifted one of my arms up to check the buckles on each side of my breastplate before he was satisfied. Then he picked up my helmet from where it had rolled partway under the bed.

“Stop thinking,” he said as he handed it back to me. “You’ll make yourself sick and now is not the time. Follow your training first. And if that doesn’t work, follow your instincts. Every ounce of sweat you spilt in the academy was in preparation for this moment.”

I took a deep breath to steady myself and nodded.

“You’re a dragonrider. And we are called to be bold when no one else dares to be.” Jace took a step back to pick up his weapons from where they always hung off the footboard of his bed. He carried a pair of short swords in a cross-shaped dual sheath that buckled onto his back.

I fastened my own weapon to my hip, letting my fingers graze over the pommel of the scimitar for a moment. Jace was right, as usual. Now wasn’t the time to start losing it. I had to pull myself together. I had a job to do.

We started for the door. But before we could leave, Jace paused. He turned to me with a strange expression. “You want to know something about me?”

I was too shocked to respond right away.

“My last wing end died because of me. I assumed he could keep up. I took a bid with him based only on what everyone else had told me about what he was capable of. They said he was fast enough. They said he could handle flying point. When he died, I vowed never to make that mistake again. I vowed that my next wing end would be someone I knew could match me in every way. It would be someone I had personally scouted and trained with. There would be no room for doubt about his ability. I wouldn’t leave anything to chance, and I wouldn’t take anyone’s word for it—not like last time.” His gaze was fierce, almost like he was thinking about punching me. But maybe that was just because talking about himself, his past, and his feelings made him really uncomfortable. “So now I live with the knowledge that his death was my fault. I have to carry that to my grave.”

Words failed me. What could I say to something like that? I felt pity for him. But I also felt a touch of pride that he thought I was worthy. That’s when I realized why he had told me this; he was trying to reassure me. I could handle this. He wouldn’t have brought me here, to fight by his side, if he hadn’t been absolutely sure that I could handle it.

“Let’s do it, then.” I extended a hand toward him.

He grasped it firmly. “Just don’t do anything stupid. War heroes often die too young.”

Jace and I left our room dressed from head to toe in gleaming battle armor with our fur-collared blue cloaks sweeping the ground at our heels. My heart was still hammering in my chest, but I refused to let my thoughts waver back toward the fear churning in my gut. I let one hand rest on the hilt of my blade, my helmet tucked under my other arm.

As we strode down the hall, other riders fully outfitted for war began emerging to join us in our final march to the dragon stables. I spotted Felix through the crowd once, though only for a moment. He and Prax were standing together, looking like a mirrored reflection of the same person in their armor. It was a bittersweet sight.

I stepped into Mavrik’s stall and immediately got to work preparing his saddle. He craned his huge head to watch as I checked over all the buckles and straps, the same way I had since the beginning of training. It wasn’t anything new to me. I probably could have done it blindfolded. But right then I was still a nervous wreck.

Mavrik chirped at me anxiously, stirring in his bed of hay as I slung the saddle over his back.

“We knew this day was coming, right?” I muttered to him as he craned his neck and started sniffing at my hair. “Are you ready?”

He snorted, sending a blast of his hot breath across my face. That usually meant, “yes.”

With his saddle in place and all my gear strapped down and set, I stood outside the stall to wait. I knew what was coming next only because I’d seen it already a few days prior. All around me stood my dragonrider brothers, the proud warriors of Blue Squadron. No one spoke. No one looked around. Straight ahead and several stalls down, I could see Jace’s back. He was standing at the ready, too. Once we were airborne, I knew I had to find him again so we could keep to our formation.

Colonel Bragg came out to give us his briefing. When he began to speak, the atmosphere in the room grew heavy and intense. This wasn’t going to be good news, and I think we all knew that. If we were getting called up in addition to Gold Squadron, then something must have gone horribly wrong.

“By now you all know about the situation in Barrowton. The city is occupied by a large number of enemy forces. They are keeping the villagers there as hostages, but have not welcomed any form of negotiation.” Bragg’s voice carried down the corridor. “Two legions of infantry have been lost trying to retake the city without any further civilian casualties. Those campaigns have failed. Your brothers in Gold Squadron were deployed to coax a response, to hopefully force our enemy into a new course of action. News arrived earlier today that half the squadron has already fallen. They encountered resistance unlike anything we have ever faced before. We are the cavalry, gentleman. Our enemy is fierce and desperate. Do not hold back. We cannot lose this city.”

I was starting to get a bad feeling. I remembered what Beckah had said about Dayrise, and how it had fallen just like this. It was nothing but ruins now. There hadn’t been any survivors in that situation. That meant my chances of ever seeing Roland again were slim to none. In all likelihood, he was already dead.

And I was about to join him.

“We have been given permission straight from the throne that if the citizens cannot be evacuated, and if the enemy cannot be overthrown by any other means, then we are to raze the city with fire until there is nothing left,” Bragg continued. It was clear in the way he looked at us and by the tone of his voice that he sincerely didn’t want that. Who would?

“If that order comes down, I expect you all to respond accordingly. I pray whatever gods may be watching this will have pity on us.” Colonel Bragg bowed his head. We were dismissed, and we all filed back into our dragons’ stalls to mount up.

I hoisted myself into Mavrik’s saddle, fitting my boots down into the sheaths on either side and double-checking my safety straps. I put on my helmet and riding gauntlets, then leaned down to pat Mavrik’s neck a few times. I’m sure he could tell I was nervous. Likewise, I could feel his unease. His big nostrils were puffing as he breathed in deeply, and his muscles were flexed and taut under his scaly hide. The pupils of his eyes narrowed to hair-thin slits as he crawled out of his stall, snapping anxiously at any of the other dragons that got too close.

In a noisy stir, we all lined up in the narrow corridor that led out onto the platform. The gates were rolled open, and one by one the dragonriders of Blue Squadron took to the air. The line moved slowly, at first. It gave me far too much time to begin thinking again. My stomach was tangled up in horrible knots, and I couldn’t keep myself from gasping for breath. My thoughts were a swirling torrent of pure panic. Terror welled up in me like I was drowning.

And then it was my turn.

Mavrik crawled through the gates and out onto the platform. The air was cold, but the storm had long passed. It was still very dark outside, and yet a thick fog had settled over the city. Far below, I could barely see its lights winking in the night. A drop of fifty stories made my stomach churn and my head feel dizzy. But Mavrik didn’t give me long to contemplate it.

We leapt into the air as one, wings stretched out to catch the northern winds. I felt weightless for a second or two, and then Mavrik’s powerful wing beats carried us higher and higher. As we spiraled around the tower, I saw the host of other dragonriders circling overhead like a column of roaring black bats.

I let my eyes fall closed and reached out with my thoughts. I could feel the other dragons, their voices like whispers scurrying across my brain. It was strangely comforting, giving me a sense of control.

Mavrik and I joined up with Jace and his dragon, Ghost, as soon as we found them. I hung close at his side, flying in tight formation as we circled the tower and waited for all the dragonriders to take flight. When we saw the gates roll closed and the torches go out, I knew it was time to go.

Barrowton was waiting.

Jace began relaying our battle plan to me as soon as we were on our way. Using our complex code of hand signals, he advised me to hang back with him near the rear of the group. Our speed was our greatest strength, so we had to conserve as much strength and energy as we could until we arrived on scene at the battle.

“We should hit Barrowton at dawn,” Jace signaled. “We’ll go high, use the light of the rising sun to hide our approach, and make our first sweep toward the greatest threat point. Stay close.”

I gave him an affirmative gesture and followed as he ducked under the immense formation of dragonriders, slowing his pace and falling toward the back of the group. We stayed back there, biding our time and conserving our speed, until Barrowton was finally in sight.

I was busy going over battle tactics in my head, things I had learned through all my time training at Blybrig, when I first saw it. An all-too-familiar plume of black smoke was rising out of a charred mass of buildings. The city sat uncomfortably close to Luntharda, which had probably been a good thing when our kingdoms weren’t at war and the city was used as a trade stop. Now, it just put the inhabitants of Barrowton on the enemy’s doorstep.

From a distance, it looked like someone had kicked open a hornet nest. The glistening shapes of shrikes zipped through the air faster than I could count, battling dragonriders. Columns of dragon flame burst into the air spontaneously. On the ground, infantry forces were trying to breach the city from all sides, but had been outflanked by gray elf legions who rained down heavy fire with bows and arrows.

As we got closer, I was able to see more and more detail. And what I saw made me absolutely sick with fear.

The gray elves were using beasts from their jungle home as war beasts. Creatures I had no names for roamed the battlefield, charging like mad into the Maldobarian lines. Some looked like giant boars with long barbed tusks, and others like big reptilian monsters with scaly hides and long, lashing tails.

The war beasts were cutting through the infantry lines over and over, and it looked like the soldiers weren’t able to do anything to stop them. Even the cavalry horses bucked and panicked when threatened by a boar’s jagged tusks or the bellowing charge of those apelike creatures.

“What the hell are those things?” Jace was signing frantically.

I had no idea. But it looked like they were most likely the reason we were about to lose the battle for Barrowton.

I watched as the ranks struggled to scramble fast enough to reassemble formation before they were charged again. They couldn’t do it. Each pass from one of those creatures sent bodies flying in all directions. Some men just dropped their weapons and fled. Meanwhile, the gray elves were firing volley after volley of their poison-tipped arrows.

A blind fury boiled in my veins and I leaned down against Mavrik’s back. Roland might still be down there. And somewhere else in this fray, the woman I loved and my best friend were fighting, too.

I wanted a crack at some of those monsters.

If I could get close enough, then maybe I could use my power to drive them away. Or at least I might be able to confuse them long enough for someone else to kill them. Either way, Jace had said we were going for the greatest threat point. So I waited for him to choose our first target and set my focus there.

Jace led our aerial assault at blitzing speed. His dragon, Ghost, snapped his wings in close and dropped into a steep dive while Mavrik and I hung close at his side. Shrikes blurred past us like tongues of mirrored lightning. When gray elves began training their bows upon us, we spiraled to avoid the shots. I felt the air humming off the arrows that zipped past my helmet.

I tried to reach out with my thoughts, to reach the creatures that were running amuck through the infantry lines, but it was a mess. The battle raging all around us formed a confusing chorus of whispers in my mind. It made it nearly impossible to focus. Shrikes, dragons, and horses were all familiar sounds to my mind’s ear. The gray elves had their own war mounts and monsters, and their voices were all foreign to me. I couldn’t make sense of them.

My brain seemed to swell with the overload of battle. I heard the cries of the wounded; dying pleas resounded all around me. Desperately, I tried to push it all away and focus on our first target. Jace was zeroing in on one of the giant boars, and he gave me the signal to strike with him. I stretched my thoughts toward the beast, calling for it to acknowledge me.

It wasn’t clear to me if whatever madness was infecting the wild things of the world was also afflicting these creatures, but when I got no response I began to suspect that might be the case. I tried calling to it again, all of them this time, asking for them to depart and leave us in peace.

The creatures answered me with a reply like a tolling bell in my thoughts. It was so loud it made my teeth rattle—there could be no peace. Their rage for having been summoned from their jungle was wholly justified, and not so easily appeased.

We were seconds from contact.

I felt Mavrik’s sides swell as he took in a breath, preparing to shower his burning venom upon our enemy. I tried one more time to will the beasts away from our infantry. I poured as much will into my command as I could, which seemed like a great idea at the time.

I guess I had forgotten what happened when I let myself go like that.

Burning heat surged through me, roaring through my body like an inferno. The noise of the war suddenly seemed to grow faint. I heard only the voices I chose to hear. My vision sharpened. My instincts came alive.

I was losing control again.

My body moved without my permission. I couldn’t stop it. I was guided by those primal urges that welled up from deep within. I steered Mavrik with my thoughts and brought myself closer to the ground, skimming over the battlefield.

Jace started giving me angry hand signals to get back in formation. I wanted to obey. But I couldn’t. He couldn’t see what was happening to me—that my eyes were glowing and my canine teeth had become pointed fangs—because I had my helmet on. He’d witnessed me go into this state more than once now, and I think he understood that there wasn’t anything I could do to control it.

A sense of authority swept over me. I felt like a king among commoners. I could sense the aura of power that rolled off my body like a rippling heat. Standing up in the saddle, I walked down the length of Mavrik’s back while he glided over the battlefield, just out of reach of sword or spear. I bade him duck lower at the first opening he saw, and when he did, I leapt into the air.

My feet hit the ground and I kicked instantly into a roll to absorb the force of the impact. As I stood, I pulled my scimitar from its resting place. It was all one fluid motion, perfect and effortless. Around me, infantrymen looked at me with awe. They probably couldn’t believe I had just willingly dismounted my dragon. The gray elves looked equally confused, like they weren’t sure what my angle was.

I quickly answered their puzzled glares when I ripped off my helmet and dropped it at my feet.

When the gray elf warriors saw my face, the way my eyes were glowing like lanterns, they immediately began backing away. Some of them even threw away their weapons and dropped to their knees. They spoke to me in their native tongue, crying out desperately and calling me by a name I’d never heard before—Lapiloque.

I hadn’t come for them, though.

I stepped through their ranks, which parted for me like a sea of sword and shield. One of the monstrous boars was charging straight for me. I could feel the earth trembling with its thundering steps. It was huge, nearly ten feet tall, with wickedly barbed tusks jutting from its lower jaw and a mane of quill-like spines down its back.

This beast had ignored my command. It had defied me. I wouldn’t tolerate that kind of insubordination.

I raised my blade toward the boar, daring it one more time to disobey. But it just kept coming, barreling toward me and snorting with rage.

“So be it,” I murmured.

My body moved, seeming to know just exactly what to do next. I snapped into a wider stance and swung my blade wide, slicing the air and leaving behind a rift of power that burst forth with brilliant green light, emitting waves of raw energy.

The boar slammed right into it, and immediately began squealing in panic. The rift swallowed it like a gaping maw, leaving nothing but echoing shrieks of fear and a radiant white-green light that began to grow smaller and smaller until at last it died away.

A single seed, about the size of a pumpkin seed, fell to the ground where the boar had been.

All around me was silence.

I could feel the anxiety and quiet horror in the air as the eyes of soldiers, both human and elf, stared at me. I made a point not to look at any of them as I bent down to pick up the seed, slipping it calmly into my belt and looking skyward.

Mavrik answered my unspoken command to return. I could easily pick out the sound of his roar even in the midst of battle. Slipping my blade back into its sheath, I reached skyward and caught one of the handles of my dragon’s saddle as he swooped low. I was pulled skyward by the force of his wings, ripped off the earth and carried back into the churning, war-lit sky.

I began looking for another target—another rebellious child to punish. But something cut through my mind like a cold splinter. It wasn’t something physical. It was a sound; a sound I knew.

I heard a dragon’s agonized bellow. It wasn’t just any dragon, though. Over the swell of noise, the cries and clashing of blades, and the roaring drone of combat, I knew it was Ghost.

It pierced me to the very core and snapped me out of my trance.

I looked around frantically, searching the sky for Ghost and Jace. I spotted them in the distance, darting in frantic evasive maneuvers as a pair of shrikes chased after them viciously. They were flying directly over Luntharda, skimming dangerously close to the tops of the trees. I could see arrows flying, and the shapes of riders on the shrikes’ backs. One of them was wearing an elaborate, colorful headdress with white horns.

It was the gray elf princess.

I snarled and bared my teeth. Mavrik did the same. We turned and swept higher, beginning our pursuit.

Ghost had already been hit multiple times. Arrows were sticking out of his scaly hide, and yet he refused to go down. He was in pain. I could feel it. The poison from the arrows was coursing through his body, making each breath and wing beat a struggle. But he was fighting desperately to stay airborne—fighting because he knew if he fell, his rider would die.

“Hold on,” I growled. “Just hold on.”

I saw the gray elf princess draw back another arrow. It was as though it all happened in slow motion.

The arrow left her bow, blurring toward its mark, hitting Ghost right in the back of the skull.

The dragon lurched. His wing beats stopped abruptly. In my mind, his voice went silent.

That sudden silence jarred me violently.

Ghost’s limp body plummeted from the sky with Jace hanging onto him for dear life. It was a horrible moment of déjà vu. I had seen another mentor of mine, Sile, fall from the sky like this, but I had managed to save him.

I didn’t know if I would be able to duplicate that miracle now, though. We were still so far away. I urged Mavrik to go faster, and he poured every ounce of his speed into our pursuit.

The green canopy of Luntharda swallowed Ghost and Jace. They disappeared, and I frantically began trying to detect whether or not Jace was still alive. I was already weakened from the amount of power I had used to deal with the boar. I could barely grip the saddle handles as Mavrik stormed forward, swerving past other dragons and shrikes that passed us in the air. My head was swimming, and my extremities were becoming numb. Pressing through all the noise and the growing exhaustion that made my senses sluggish, I focused only on Jace.

I could still feel the presence of his life force. It was faint. But it was there.

I knew what I had to do.

“Get as close as you can. Then put me down,” I panted.

Mavrik growled in reluctance. He cocked his head to the side so that I could see one of his big yellow eyes. He didn’t approve of this plan.

“It’s okay, buddy.” I patted his neck. “I have to do this. It’s my fault he got pinned down in the first place. We abandoned him. I can’t do it a second time. He’s still alive. That means he survived the crash. I can get him out of there. I’m the only one who can.”

Mavrik sent me worried hues of blue and orange and flashes of memories from the battle scenario. He was worried I wouldn’t be able to make it out alive by myself, let alone with Jace. I couldn’t really argue his logic. There was no guarantee.

And there also wasn’t any other choice.

“As soon as I’m off, I want you to go find Felix. Do whatever you can to back him up. Understand?” My voice got tight. Emotion made my chest feel heavy. “And when this is over, if you can’t feel my presence anymore … then you are free to go back home. That was our deal. Remember?”

Mavrik made a sorrowful series of chirping sounds as he acknowledged my last request. He spread his wings wide, ducking down under another dragon, weaving out of the way of a shrike or two. Ahead of us, the jungle grew closer and closer by the moment.

When we were close enough, he dropped even lower and started a steep turn. I pulled my legs out of the boot sheaths again, and kicked away from the saddle. In a matter of seconds, I was on the ground, watching my dragon disappear into the battle-ridden tangled sky.

I didn’t have time to reflect. My legs were already getting wobbly. I’d used so much power, and whatever I still had left in me was going to serve one final purpose. I was going to heal Jace and get him out of that jungle alive, even if it killed me.

I owed him that much, at least.

I staggered over the boundary that separated our kingdoms, passing between the trunks of the giant trees of Luntharda. They loomed all around me like moss-covered columns, their interwoven branches blotting out the light of the sun and the cold wind of the springtime. It was an entirely different world; slathered in varying shades of green, and filled with alien sounds that came from all directions. The air was thick and humid, and it smelled of rich, moist earth. Behind me, the sound of the battle was distant and easily forgotten.

I had nothing to guide me except my power, which allowed me to pinpoint Jace’s location amidst a riot of whispering voices. I didn’t see any animals, so at first, I wasn’t sure what was making all the racket in my brain. Then I realized—it was the trees.

I stumbled into the crash site so suddenly it caught me completely off guard. Ghost’s body had broken through the canopy and lay still, tangled up in branches and vines that had snagged on him as he fell.

Only a few yards away, I found Jace.

He was dying. I knew it right away. Lying on his back with his legs bent in the wrong directions, there was blood coming from his mouth and ears. He couldn’t move, and based off what I could sense, most of the bones in his body were broken.

I fell to my knees beside him, pushing away limbs and leaves that had fallen on top of his body. “Jace! I’m here!”

He blinked at me confusedly, like he wasn’t sure who I was at first. “You came back.”

“I’m so sorry, Jace.” I tried to apologize. I shouldn’t have left him. I’d broken all the rules of my training and let myself get carried away. “I can fix it. I can get you out.”

“It’s all right,” he said in a strangely calm, quiet voice. “It doesn’t hurt. I don’t feel it. Just let me go.”

“I can’t—” I started to argue.

“I’ve waited a long time for this.” He wouldn’t let me finish. “I’ve paid back my debt.”

Whatever debt he was talking about, it would have to wait or be paid back with something other than his life. I wasn’t about to let him down again. I could save him. I could heal his broken body. It might cost me my own, but that was the price I would have to pay for leaving him in the first place.

I put my hands on his chest, letting my eyes roll closed as I called forth whatever remained of my power. It was going to be costly. I probably would pass out, which was essentially a death sentence in Luntharda based on everything I’d heard and studied. But I was okay with that. He would live. That’s all that mattered.

“When this is done, I want you leave this place,” I told him. “Run. Don’t look back. And don’t waste your efforts trying to carry me out. You won’t have that much time to spare.”

The drain was immediate. His failing body gobbled up my power greedily, drinking it in and beginning to repair all that had been so badly broken. I felt bones knitting back together, flesh mending, and the surge of energy flowing through every muscle.

Jace took in a shocked, violent breath. He gripped my arms suddenly like he wanted to push me away. But my work was nearly done.

As the last drop of power left my body, the darkness began closing in. All strength left me. I was numb and paralyzed as I fell sideways onto the soft jungle floor.

That was when I saw him.

He was standing between two enormous ferns, peeking out at me with those eerie, color-changing eyes. He wore intricate, colorful battle attire, carried a longbow in one hand, and had red war symbols painted on his body. His long white hair had been woven into hundreds of braids and was pulled back away from his face. As our eyes met, I wondered if this was good luck … or an extremely bad coincidence.

“Kiran,” I managed to rasp his name.

His eyes widened with recognition.

I knew he had seen me heal Jace. There was no question about it. He had that same, awe-struck and slightly mortified expression the other gray elves had when I revealed myself on the battlefield.

Jace was beginning to sit up. He was panting for breath, feeling over his freshly healed body with amazement written all over his face. He obviously hadn’t noticed we were being watched.

That didn’t last long.

With a flash of light glinting off hundreds of mirror-like scales, a shrike landed between Kiran and us. It let out a piercing shriek, regarding Jace with its peculiar gleaming green eyes. There was primal intelligence behind them, and I could feel its presence faintly bleeding into my overexerted brain. It was curious about me, not sure what to make of my mixed scent, and trying to decide if I was a threat or not.

Jace, on the other hand, it definitely didn’t like. When he scrambled to his feet, drawing both of his swords, the shrike hissed and flared its translucent feathered wings. Its long tail lashed slowly to and fro, and the muscular shoulders of all six of its legs rolled like a cat waiting to pounce. They were in a standoff, each waiting for the other to make a wrong move.

Then I saw her. Or rather, I caught a hint of movement out of the corner of my eye. I couldn’t move my body, but I saw a bit of sunlight gleam off the point of a blade that was poised right behind Jace’s neck.

He was absolutely clueless about it, though, until she spoke.

“Drop your weapons, pig.” a young woman’s voice snapped bitterly. Her speech was rough, like she wasn’t used to the human language, but she seemed to have a fairly good handle on it.

Jace let out a curse when he realized he’d been ambushed. He dropped both his swords.

“Hands behind your head. On your knees,” the she elf commanded. She began pacing a circle around Jace as he obeyed. At last, she stepped directly into my view.

I couldn’t see her face—not at first—because she still wore the royal battle headdress Prax had told me about. It looked like a mask with an attached mane of brilliant colored feathers, leaves, and shrike scales that hung all the way down her back. It had a pair of slender white deer horns that swept back from over the ears. Those, I understood, were the true mark of gray elf royalty.

Her clothes were equally bizarre. I’d never seen gray elves dressed in their traditional style before. All the elves that had lived in the ghetto where I grew up wore human-looking clothes. But these were more exotic, more beautiful, and far more revealing.

She sported a pair of baggy, dark blue silk pants low over her broad hips. They ballooned out a bit and were gathered at her feet. She wore a short tunic of the same fabric and style, cut low across her chest and gathered at her ribs and wrists—leaving her entire abdomen bare. A long, banner-like belt was strung around her waist on golden cords. It was so long in the back that it dragged the ground like a train on a gown, and it boasted an intricate embroidered design in the shape of a stag’s head. The front was just as ornate, but it was set with jewels.

There was no doubt she was royalty. She walked with poised, predatory grace. I could see her multicolored eyes studying Jace carefully through the holes in her mask. She glanced at me quickly, and then leveled her blade back at Jace’s throat.

“You should be dead,” she insisted. “I saw you fall.”

Kiran suddenly emerged from his hiding place. He kept his head low as he went slinking up to the princess, cowering like a submissive puppy. He pointed at me and began speaking in the elven language.

My mind was so hazy I could barely piece together what was being said. It didn’t sound good, though. Kiran used the word “caenu” several times, which generally didn’t bode well for me. It was the word they used for all halfbreeds, and it basically meant the same thing as “filth” in their language.

The princess set her harrowing gaze upon me again. Jace flinched as she began to walk toward me, but she left no room for him to try anything funny. She ordered Kiran to draw on him and make sure he didn’t move. With a poison-tipped arrow aimed squarely at his nose, Jace didn’t move again.

The gray elf princess crouched over me. She pulled back her battle headdress, sliding it up onto the top of her head, to get a better look. I couldn’t move enough to look back at her, though. All I could do was stare at the tops of her black leather boots.

She grabbed my chin, turning my head to look directly into my eyes. Her face was devastatingly beautiful … and yet eerily familiar. It was as though I should have known her, though I couldn’t imagine how.

I watched her nose wrinkle in disgust as she regarded my dragonrider armor, my pointed ears, and my long ash-gray hair. She dropped me back onto the ground and actually wiped her hand off on her pants like I might have some kind of disease.

Then Kiran spoke, and I actually caught what he said this time. “No, no. He wore it. It must be under his clothes.”

The princess sneered down at me again. Curling her lip, she grabbed the front of my breastplate and stuck her arm down the front of my shirt. She went groping around under my clothes and armor until at last I felt her hand close around my mother’s necklace. She pulled it out, and with one quick jerk, broke the resin string.

I wanted to scream in protest. That was mine. She had no right to take it. But I couldn’t do much more than give a disapproving groan as she held it up to the light.

Her expression cleared like storm clouds breaking on a calm morning. Her eyes shimmered with mystification. Her lips parted, and I saw a hint of lovely color flush across her elegant cheeks. When she looked down at me again, her expression was much different. She seemed puzzled and slightly horrified at the sight of me now.

“Where did you get this?” Her voice held quiet suspicion as she spoke to me in the human language again. “Speak, demon!”

It took all I had, the very last of my strength and will, to get the word out. One word was all I could manage, so I chose it wisely and spoke it in her native language.

“Mother.”

When I opened my eyes to nothing but darkness, I just assumed I was already dead. I was delirious, and it seemed very likely that I’d probably been killed either by the gray elf princess or some horrible monster that had stumbled across me lying unconscious on the jungle floor.

Then I heard a sound like something or someone breathing next to me.

“H-hello?” My voice was hoarse, and for some reason, my throat was absolutely killing me.

“Keep it down,” a familiar tone answered. It was Jace.

I didn’t understand. But as my delirium began to clear, I became more and more aware of our situation.

It was bad. Incredibly bad—even by my standards.

I was sitting on what felt like a stone floor. It was cold to the touch, and the fact that I could feel it rather obviously let me know that I was completely naked. The gray elves had taken my armor and my clothes. When I tried to move, I realized I was tied up. My wrists and neck were tightly bound to what felt like a metal pole. No wonder my neck was sore. I couldn’t move my head or do anything about the blindfold that had been pulled over my eyes.

“Where are we?” I whispered. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere in the jungle. You were unconscious for a long time,” he answered. His voice echoed all around, making it impossible to tell how far apart we were.

“Are you tied up, too?” I asked.

“Yes. They took all our gear, clothes, and anything we had on us.” He paused a moment, as though he were thinking. Then he said, “Jaevid, they’re going to torture us. You need to prepare yourself.”

My insides wrenched up with frantic anxiety. I couldn’t breathe. Memories like nightmares of the battle scenario ran through my mind. I did my best to calm myself, to keep my head clear. Panic was the enemy. I knew that. Somehow, I had to keep my head on straight.

“This is my fault,” I realized aloud. “If I hadn’t let things get out of control—”

“Don’t even start with that.” Jace’s tone was serious. “It doesn’t matter now.”

My guts were writhing around like I’d swallowed a live snake. “There’s something I have to tell you. I should have told you before.”

He was quiet while I gathered my nerve.

I was going to tell him about my father. He deserved to know that our torture might be worse than expected because of that. If any of these gray elves remembered the horrible sin my father had committed, then they might also recognize that I favored him. We might be made to suffer even more.

I didn’t get the chance, though. No sooner had I opened my mouth to speak than I heard the sound of footsteps and angry voices coming toward us. I sat perfectly still and didn’t make a sound. Neither did Jace. Inwardly, I was paralyzed with fear. I didn’t know what was going to happen. All I could do was strain to listen and try to piece together the elven words to figure out what was being said.

It had been so long since I had even tried to speak my mother’s native tongue that my comprehension of it was poor. I caught only every other word. But from that, I could draw a few conclusions.

One of the voices I recognized right away. It sounded like the princess from before. “The halfbreed wore it. Some of the survivors from the cavalry claim to have seen him working miracles on the battlefield,” she insisted.

The man she was bickering with sounded much older, and apparently he was resolute against believing her claims about me. “Did you see any of these so-called miracles?” he demanded.

“No,” she admitted. “But surely you see the possibility. If he truly is the Lapiloque, then—”

“Silence, Araxie! Do not dare speak that blasphemy to me,” the man shouted suddenly. “That lineage died long ago. Any member of that bloodline is a traitor.”

“Let him be tested, then!” the princess yelled right back. “What harm is there in being sure?”

The man didn’t answer her. Or rather, it seemed like he was ignoring her outright. Their voices had come so close now that I knew they must have been standing close by, maybe even looking at me.

I tried to stay calm and to keep my breathing even. Of course, I was humiliated. I was completely naked while two strangers stood over me, deciding my fate. But there was nothing I could do except wait and see what fate had planned for me next.

“Show me his face,” the man ordered.

All of a sudden, the blindfold was ripped from my eyes. Light from two bronze braziers burning in a cavernous room blinded me for a moment. I looked up to face my accusers as I blinked away the spots in my vision.

I had been right. The female arguing with such spirit was indeed the princess. She looked down at me with a tense, unreadable expression. Her arms were folded under her chest and her muscular hips were cocked to the side in a defiant stance.

Next to her was a much older gray elf man. I didn’t recognize him at all, and yet I was sure he must be their king if only by the way he was dressed. He wore flowing robes of dark blue silk, and a waist wrap of gold that, even when tied, dragged the ground at his feet. The big bell cuffs of his gold-trimmed tunic touched the floor as well, and there was an intricate crown made of gold on his head. His silver hair was long and had been combed out to be perfectly straight, like a curtain of platinum that hung down his back.

The dark, weary circles and wrinkles around his eyes belied the ferocity in the way he was glaring at me. I got the impression right away that he wasn’t pleased to have me in his kingdom—not that I was necessarily thrilled about it either. Sile had told me to come here, but I sort of doubted this is what he’d had in mind.

To my right, I could see Jace was tied up right beside me, though I didn’t dare look at or draw any attention to him. Instead, I kept my eyes trained on the two royals standing before me.

The king leaned down to have a closer look at me, his multicolored eyes shining with severity and bitterness. I watched his expression sharpen. His eyes narrowed and his eyebrows furrowed deeply.

“Kill him,” the king snarled suddenly. “He is the spitting image of that demon pig—the one who started this!”

The princess, Araxie, didn’t seem convinced. “Perhaps it’s just a coincidence. After a while, they all look similar.”

“No! I know those eyes; they looked at me on that day. This is his progeny, and likely something foul Hovrid has sent to deceive and destroy us!” The king backed away from me, but his eyes never left mine.

I knew the rules. The memories of my interrogation training demanded I sit in total silence. I shouldn’t speak a word to these people. But emotion ran away with me before I could stop myself.

“I don’t know anyone named Hovrid,” I declared in the human language. I didn’t trust that my elven was good enough to sound anything but ridiculous to them. “I’m the son of Alowin.”

They both froze and exchanged a wide-eyed look. Then the princess began to grin smugly. “See? Just as I told you.”

Her father’s glare returned and was more dangerous than ever. I knew he probably spoke the human language, too. Or at the very least, he understood it. But he refused to speak it and kept snapping angrily in elven. “Don’t be a fool, child. We underestimated Hovrid once. I won’t make that same mistake again. Who knows what power he has amassed in this time? This creature cannot be allowed to live. Kill him immediately.”

Araxie scowled rebelliously. “And if you’re wrong? If he truly is her child—our blood—then what?”

The king glanced at me as he turned and began to walk away. His expression was different, though, at that suggestion. Rather than fury, I saw plainly a look of hurt, like betrayal, etched into his features. “Then I’ve expunged the last of the traitors from our line. Nothing more.”

With only the princess left standing before me, regarding Jace and me with a look of distaste, I thought it was over. I would be killed for association with someone named Hovrid. There was nothing I could do about that. But I decided quickly that if I was going to die, then I wanted to at least try and get a few answers first.

Araxie had just begun to walk away when I called out to her as best I could in her own language. “Did you really knew my mother? Alowin, I mean.”

She paused.

Without turning around I heard her answer, “Yes.”

“Why is he calling her a traitor?” I pleaded.

Araxie glanced back at me over her shoulder, and once again I couldn’t interpret her expression. She seemed sad, angry, and terribly afraid all at the same time. “Because she abandoned us when we needed her most.”

That vague, cryptic answer was all I got.

The princess left without another word, and Jace and I were left alone again. I couldn’t wrap my mind around what she could possibly mean by that. My mother had abandoned them? How? By becoming a refugee in Maldobar, maybe? None of it made any sense.

“I take it that didn’t go well.” There was a sarcastic flavor to Jace’s voice.

“No, not really,” I admitted. “But on the bright side, so far they only seem interested in killing me.”

Jace scoffed. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure I won’t be left out. I’ve killed three of their princes.”

He was probably right about that. They may not have brought it up because it was a given that he would die—but the jury was still out on what to do with me. Or at least, it had been. Now things were looking pretty grim in that department, too.

“Can’t you use any of that magic to get us out of this?” he pointed out.

I thought it over. “It depends, I guess, on how far we are from Maldobar. Remember before? I don’t last very long once I go into that state. And you can’t very well carry me out.”

Jace grunted in agreement. “Then we’ll have to bide our time and come up with a better plan. How long do you think we have?”

“I don’t know. Not long, probably.” I didn’t want to give him any false hope. The king obviously had a special sort of hatred for me. I doubted he would allow me any extra time to plead my case.

Now that my eyes were uncovered, I could see a bit more about our situation. We were tied up in what appeared to be some kind of stone chamber. If I stretched out with my thoughts, which was slightly painful after having recently used so much power, I could sense that we were underground. The voices of the jungle were distant and faint, and I could feel the presence of earth above and around us.

A swirl of color fluttering through my brain surprised me, but only until I realized who it was. I could feel Mavrik’s presence, his relief that I was alive, and his concern for me. He was looking for me.

I sent him my thoughts and told him what was happening … and what I suspected was to come. I wished I could have severed our mental bond so that he didn’t have to experience it right along with me. I asked him if Felix and Beckah were alive, and he confirmed that they were.

But the battle was over. Barrowton had been burned to the ground.

“Whatever happens,” I murmured aloud without thinking, “it was an honor to have flown with you.”

“And you as well,” Jace answered quietly.

I decided not to tell him I hadn’t been talking to him.

I wish I could tell you the gray elf king had a sudden change of heart. That Princess Araxie was able to reason with him, and Jace and I were set free. But when it came to luck, I’d never had much of any.

The king did change his mind about killing us right away, though. Instead, he decided to interrogate us. Day after day we were dragged away to another dark room and beaten, whipped, or flogged. Many times, I blacked out during it only to wake up and find myself tied to that metal pole again.

At first, they didn’t demand information. They just beat us. When they finally did start asking questions, though, it wasn’t at all what I expected. They demanded to know who I really was and for me to tell them anything I knew about this Hovrid person. Most of all, they wanted to know where the god stone was.

Needless to say, my answers were never satisfactory. I told them over and over that I was the son of Alowin, that I didn’t know anyone named Hovrid, and that I had no idea where the god stone was. Those replies never earned me anything but a more severe beating.

I honestly had no idea how much time passed, although it felt like an eternity. We never saw the sunlight or breathed the fresh air. They rarely brought us food, and when they did, it was mostly rotten scraps that left me feeling sicker than before. I was always weak from hunger and the beatings, and my throat was raw for want of even a few drops of water.

When they caught Jace and I talking, they gagged us, then there was nothing to ease the suffering. Sometimes, Mavrik would muscle his way into my thoughts and try to comfort me—but I quickly drove him out. I didn’t want him to go through this with me. I didn’t want him to have to feel me suffering.

The beatings began to get worse.

After they broke several of my ribs, I couldn’t even take a breath without white-hot agony stinging through my body. The first time they broke one of my arms, I begged for them to just kill me and be done with it.

Of course, they didn’t.

It was bad, yes. But listening to Jace take his beatings was much worse. I could hear his screams echoing off the walls from somewhere in the distance, hear him cursing them, crying, and pleading for death just as I had. Knowing there was nothing I could do made my mind go to dark places. It made me wish there was some way I could kill him, just to end his suffering so he didn’t have to go through this anymore.

It became such that the sound of footsteps or voices immediately made me go into shock. I panicked. My body trembled beyond my control, and I immediately started screaming through the gag they had tied over my mouth. I never knew which of us they were going to take.

This time, however, something was different.

Usually our torturers came in groups. I never saw exactly how many because I was usually blindfolded. But there was only one set of footsteps coming toward me, and no voices.

Still, I couldn’t keep myself from reacting with terror. I pitched against my bonds. I cried out for someone, anyone, to help me.

“Be quiet, caenu,” someone whispered to me harshly. Then he took the blindfold off my eyes and pulled the gag out of my mouth.

It was Kiran.

Crouching beside me in the dark, he was staring at me with a constrained look of horror from under the hood of a long dark cloak. I must have looked as awful as I felt. I couldn’t see clearly out of one eye because it had swollen shut, and I could feel the crusty sensation of dried blood around my nose and mouth.

He didn’t waste any time. From under the cloak, he took out a water skin and uncorked it. “The princess continues to plead for your life,” he said as he held it to my lips.

Fresh water filled my mouth, cool and delicious. I gulped it down as greedily as he would allow. I could taste that it was tinged with something herbal, but I didn’t bother asking what it was. Whether it would kill me or make me feel even the slightest bit better, I didn’t care.

“W-why do they keep asking me about Hovrid?” I managed to rasp. “Who is that?”

He must have believed me, because he flashed me a slightly sympathetic glance as he pulled a small bundle of rough cloth from his clothes. It was bread—coarse, dark bread. He began pinching bits of it off and feeding it to me slowly. It hurt to swallow.

“His name is spoken like a curse among our people,” Kiran whispered. “He was an infamous traitor, the eldest son of Alowin, the last Lapiloque. He started this war.”

That new information settled over me like a foul stench and left me reeling. Could this Alowin—Hovrid’s mother—possibly be the same woman who was also my mother? Surely not. My mother would have told me if I’d had any gray elf siblings.

Right?

After letting me take a few more gulps of water, Kiran shuffled over and began administering the same care to Jace. He was a lot less responsive, though. His face was swollen and battered such that I barely recognized him. He didn’t speak or make a noise. The only way I could tell he was even alive at all was because I could see his chest rising and falling as he breathed.

“I came because the end is coming soon, caenu,” Kiran said as he cradled Jace’s head and poured water down his throat. “King Erandur is out of patience. Princess Araxie still argues with him, but he has decreed that you both will be executed at dawn. There isn’t much time.”

I wasn’t as upset about that news as I probably should have been. It actually came as a relief. “T-thank you, Kiran,” I said.

He stood up and hastily gathered his belongings. “I have not forgotten what you did for me.”

Smiling hurt, thanks to my battered face, but I made myself do it anyway. After all, he might be the last person I got to smile at. And I was glad he had survived and made it back to his people.

Kiran came back over to put the blindfold on my eyes, but before he could put the gag in my mouth, I felt him hesitate. “If you truly are Lapiloque,” he whispered so quietly I could barely hear him, “then you must put an end to this war.”

“I d-don’t even know what that is,” I told him.

“Lapiloque. It is the name we use for the one who speaks for the will of nature. The shepherd of all wild things. The stonespeaker.”

In the distance, I could hear voices echoing off the walls. Our time was up. They were coming closer. Kiran swiftly put the gag back in my mouth. I heard his steps retreat into the distance and then vanish altogether.

I knew the gray elves were coming for us. They were going to carry out the king’s command. I should have been terrified, but I was too distracted to think much about how my life might be about to come to a violent end.

I was turning Kiran’s words over and over in my head, hoping for a revelation. I wondered why the princess was so adamant about sparing me. I wondered if I truly was this Lapiloque—this stonespeaker—everyone kept talking about. If I was, then what did that mean? Was my fate tied to the god stone?

Most of all, I wondered if my mother had been keeping a lot more secrets from me than I’d ever suspected. Actually, I couldn’t afford to think otherwise now. My time with her had been brief, but sweet. She’d loved me and yet she’d hidden everything about herself from me. I didn’t understand why. Maybe it was to protect me. But now I needed to know the truth.

Sile had told me to come here, that some ritual had to be performed, and that the power I would wield would make the tricks I could do now look like dumb parlor tricks. If that was true, if I was capable of much more, then I might actually be able to grant Kiran’s request. I might be able to tip the scales and end this war somehow.

The problem was, I didn’t have much time left.

I could tell by the number of voices filling the room that at least three gray elves had come to fetch us. They cut our bonds just long enough to yank Jace and me to our feet. Then they promptly tied our hands again, tighter than ever, before herding us out of the chamber. It was the first time we had left that room together.

We began climbing stairs. Even with the bit of food and water Kiran had given me, my body was still weak and battered. I didn’t last long before my legs buckled. When they did, the gray elves dragged me my by arms.

We went up stairs for what seemed like an eternity, then we began turning corners and weaving a path I knew was leading us out of the underground. I could sense it. And I could smell it. Until now, the air had always been cold and damp, as though we were in some sort of cave. Now I caught puffs of fresh, warm air flowing from the surface.

In the distance, I could hear the booming sound of drums. Then there was light. Even through the blindfold, I could see it and feel it on my skin. There was the smell of the jungle, of the plants and trees, and the rich soil.

When the drums abruptly went silent, I could hear the voices of other people—many of them. I wasn’t sure exactly how many until the blindfold was ripped from my eyes. The light blinded me at first. It stung my eyes and confused me. But as my vision cleared, I started to realize the situation we were in.

Jace and I stood on the front steps of an ancient temple. If not for the fact that we were both about to die, I would have been distracted by how incredibly beautiful it was. Giant, moss-covered trees towered all around us. They were so big that the gray elves had cut away some of the bark and carved spiraling staircases into their trunks.

The temple itself looked like it was in the process of being devoured by the jungle. Enormous roots had grown over it, cracking through stone as though it were as brittle as chalk. Moss grew all over walls and flowering vines were choking out ancient stone statues in the courtyard before us.

There must have been nearly a thousand people gathered to watch whatever horrible thing was about to happen to us. Gray elves of all shapes and sizes, men, women, and even children looked on with mixed expressions of hatred and disgust. They cursed at us—at me particularly—and spat in our direction. Thankfully, I think Jace was too delirious to appreciate anything anyone said. He was weaving on his feet, looking like he might collapse at any moment.

I heard Princess Araxie before I saw her. She was standing with her father, hissing furious words at him. “This is blasphemy! We will be cursed for it. It is forbidden to carry out such a sentence on this sacred ground,” she insisted.

If the king was listening to her, it didn’t show. He wouldn’t even look at her. His gaze was focused squarely upon me with a mixture of controlled rage and sorrow churning in his eyes.

He didn’t waste any time. The second he raised a hand to the mob gathered before us, they all went silent. You could actually hear the wind rattling the leaves and the alien, melodic calls of birds.

“This one has murdered three of my sons. He would have done the same to my daughter, if not for the mercy of the gods that brought her home to us,” the king began proclaiming. He spoke in their native language, so I knew Jace didn’t comprehend any of it—not that it mattered. He was so out of it, he probably wouldn’t have understood anyway.

“And this one claims to be the heir of Alowin.” The king turned his scathing glare back to me. For a moment, I caught another glimpse of that strange sorrow wrinkling across his brow, as though I’d hurt him somehow. “He carries the totem of the Lapiloque, and works miracles. But I say to you, that lineage died with my sister when she betrayed us and fled to the human kingdom! She bore no heir. The line of the Lapiloque is dead. This abomination has been sent to mock us. He has the face of the one who defiled this temple and stole the god stone. He is an instrument sent from Hovrid to destroy what remains of our people!”

As badly as it hurt, I couldn’t keep my eyes from growing wide as I stared at the king. Alowin—my mother—was his sister? If that were the case, then that would mean I was related to the king of the gray elves. I was … royalty.

I took a panicked breath and flexed against my restraints. I wanted to know if it was really true. But before I could get a word out, the guards watching me noticed I was perking up. They immediately kicked out my legs, forcing me to my knees before the king.

“He has tried to make himself look like us.” The king curled his lip in disgust as he glared down at me. “And yet he wears their mark and fights with those demons.”

A few people in the crowd began spitting and cursing at me again.

The king grabbed a fistful of my hair. I’d always worn it long because of my mother. She’d insisted on it, saying that it was a matter of pride to gray elf people that they never cut their hair.

The king took a long, curled knife from inside his robes. I thought this was the end. Maybe he would slit my throat. Maybe he would ram it into the side of my head. Either way, I was going to die.

I felt the cold of the metal touch the back of my neck, then a violent jerking, tearing sensation. The king tossed my severed, ash-gray ponytail down before me. The crowd cheered.

“You are not one of us,” he growled as he gave a motion to the guards still holding my arms.

They began dragging me up to my feet.

Once I was able to look him in the eye again, I studied the king’s face. I searched for any similarity between him and my mother—any tiny detail or feature that might mark them as siblings. But I couldn’t find anything.

So I asked him, “Are you really my uncle?”

He didn’t answer. His expression cracked for a moment, breaking into something stricken and tragic. Then he turned away as though he couldn’t bear to look at me for another second.

“Take him to the pit and be done with it,” the king ordered. “Then do the same with the demon pig. Their bodies will be offerings to Paligno.”

Araxie began cursing loudly in elven. The drums began thrumming. As the guards took me down the temple steps and out into the courtyard, the crowd parted for us. They yelled curses and profanities I’d never heard before.

Then I saw it.

Before me was something I had already seen over and over, without ever understanding what it was. A huge open pit delved down deep into the darkness of the earth. A staircase overgrown with roots went around and around until it disappeared down into the cold gloom. My heart lurched, remembering the dreams I’d had of this place—a place I’d never seen in person until now.

The guards brought me to the edge and forced me to my knees again. Looking down, I could imagine if I fell in, I might find myself falling forever. But that wasn’t what scared me. No, it was the cold steel of a sword’s blade on the back of my neck again.

I knew what was coming next. I shut my eyes tightly. I heard the nearly musical humming of a blade being swung through the air. I waited to feel pain, or release, or anything at all.

But there was nothing.

In fact, there was no sound at all. The drums stopped. The crowd was completely quiet. Even the wind and the birds seemed to have gone silent. I could only hear my own heart pounding in my ears, reminding me that I was still alive.

I opened my eyes. At the same time, the hold the guards had on my arms began to slacken. The one brandishing the sword suddenly dropped it. Then they both began backing away from me.

I dared to look up, to try and see what was happening. Her eyes, shining with cold light like two stars, met mine. I sucked in a sharp breath.

She looked just like my mother. But it couldn’t be her. My mother was dead. And this being, whatever it was, was hovering over the expanse of the bottomless pit before me. With her body draped in billowing robes of purest white, her bare feet stood on nothing but air and the outline of her body rippled like a reflection on water.

“M-mom,” I managed to rasp.

She smiled and reached an alabaster hand out toward me. “It’s time, dulcu.” Her voice echoed through every corner of my brain, but I never saw her lips move.

I was about to ask what she was talking about. Then a commotion behind me made me glance back. All the gray elves gathered at the temple were kneeling. One by one, they all dropped to the ground and prostrated themselves. Even Araxie and the king bowed in reverence, hiding their faces in shame.

“Only the blood of the traitor and the hands of the speaker can restore the balance,” another voice spoke to me firmly, sending chills over my body. “You must return it.”

I immediately looked back and found my mother was gone. In her place was something else—a being I had no name for. And yet it felt as though I knew it, or had known it, for a very long time.

It hovered over the expanse of the pit, exactly where my mother’s image had been. It was about the size of a small horse. Its lean, graceful body was covered in a mottled mixture of shimmering white fur and pearlescent white scales. At first glance, I would have mistaken it for a stag if only for its size, shape, and the large pair of sweeping white horns that grew from its head. But it wasn’t a deer, even if it did have cloven hooves. Its muzzle was tapered and much shorter, and a pair of long fangs dripped below its jaw line. A flowing mane of pure white hair grew from its head all the way to the end of its lion-like tail.

The creature began walking toward me on nothing but thin air. Two piercing, glowing green eyes blazed with ancient power as they gazed at me steadily. At that same moment, I felt the bonds on my wrists vanish. My hands were free, so I started to get up.

Everyone else was trembling with fear. Some of them were even praying and wailing in sorrow. But I didn’t feel afraid or intimidated by this creature. I actually felt calm, peaceful, like someone had wrapped me in a warm blanket.

The animal walked until it was hovering just in front of me. Then it lowered its head. I reached out my hand, and the strange beast rested its nose against my palm. I could feel the strength of its breath like a storm front’s mighty gust. My heartbeat thrilled at the contact. All the pain in my body seemed to melt away. I felt stronger. My mind was sharper. My senses were honed. Heat and power rolled through my body, and yet I didn’t feel like I was losing control.

“You are my chosen servant,” the creature spoke in my mind again like a harmony of voices, male and female. “You will carry the banner of my will unto the world.”

All the whispers from my dreams, the subtle words spoken to me through the years that I thought had foreshadowed my inevitable destiny, seemed to bubble up from my subconscious. It all came down to this one moment, this single touch, and a choice. To accept this fate, or to continue to struggle against it like I had for so long in my ignorance.

I didn’t have to speak out loud for the creature to understand me. Just like with Mavrik, our thoughts and desires were melded. We were one in our innermost minds. So when I accepted, the creature simply began to fade. It dissolved into the air, becoming a fine glittering mist that was carried away into the jungle without another sound.

When I opened my eyes again, I knew something was different. There was a peace in my soul that had never existed there before. I had been sleeping, but there were no more nightmares. There was no more fear. I didn’t feel stretched thin or strained, like I was trying to cram myself into a mold that didn’t fit. I wasn’t soaked with sweat or filled with panic. I could take deep, calm breaths and enjoy the fact that my mind was relaxed and quiet.

Lying on a soft pallet made of animal furs, I could tell that I was inside a hut of some kind. Sunlight winked through the thatched roof and the smell of freshly cut wood and burning incense floated in the air. As I sat up, I realized I was wearing new clothes—gray elf clothes. There was a long, bell-sleeved tunic of dark blue draped over my shoulders and a dark green pair of baggy pants tied around my waist. I had to admit, they were pretty comfortable compared to the heavy wool clothes I usually wore. Most importantly, my mother’s necklace was hanging around my neck again. I immediately wrapped my hand around it, giving it a grateful squeeze.

“How are you feeling?” I recognized Araxie’s voice right away—even when she was speaking the human language. She was sitting in the corner of the small room, watching me with a guarded expression, like she wasn’t quite sure what to make of me yet.

“Good.” I had to laugh because it had been so long since I had actually felt good when I woke up. “What happened? Where am I?”

“Not far from the temple grounds.” I could see Araxie’s color-changing eyes sparkling as she watched me. “You passed out after Paligno gave you his blessing.”

“Paligno?” I had a feeling I knew what she was talking about. I just wanted to be sure.

“The god who first seeded this earth,” she said. “Do you really not know the ancient stories? Alowin never told you?”

I bowed my head slightly. “We didn’t have a lot of time to discuss things like that before she died.”

Araxie’s expression was sympathetic. “What is your name?”

“Jaevid,” I answered. “But you can call me Jae, if you like.” I ran a hand through my now chin-length hair. It surprised me a little. I’d almost forgotten the king had cut it so short.

The silence between us was awkward and tense. I could tell just by the way she was chewing on the inside of her cheek that there must have been a lot she wanted to say.

“Thank you,” I offered at last.

That must have jarred her. She frowned and sat up straighter. “Why would you thank me?”

“You tried to save me. It didn’t work, but you did try.” I smiled at her. “I’m grateful.”

Her eyes narrowed a bit, like she wasn’t sure if I was being serious or not. “Ever since I was a little girl, I have prayed that Lapiloque would return to us somehow and end this war. You aren’t what I expected, but who am I to question the will of the gods?”

“I don’t think this is what any of us expected,” I agreed.

Araxie sat quietly for a moment or two, twirling a lock of her silver hair around one of her fingers. Finally, she spoke in a quiet voice, “My father is in mourning. He is filled with shame for almost killing the one who speaks for the god stone. He should be here to greet you but he won’t leave his private chambers.”

I was disappointed to hear that. He was my uncle, and even if we’d gotten off to a horrendously bad start, I still wanted to talk to him. I wanted to get to know him, and try to understand what had happened that made my mother leave her people for Maldobar. For now, I decided not to press the issue, though.

“And my friend?” I asked. “The human who came here with me, where is he?”

Her expression tightened and she looked away uneasily. I knew she had some history with Jace. A lot of bad blood ran between them. “Alive, but only barely. We have done all we can, but his injuries are great. He fell under a fever two nights ago and our healers cannot break it.”

“I need to see him.” I tried to sound firm, but gentle in my request. After my encounter with Paligno, I was only beginning to understand my place in this world. But I did know enough now to suspect they probably wouldn’t refuse me anything I asked. I wasn’t going to use that as a license to be a jerk. After all, she was my first cousin. For me, friendly family members had always been hard to come by.

Araxie tucked some of her long hair behind one of her pointed ears and huffed unhappily. “Why do you favor him? He is a murderer.”

“We’re all murderers now,” I reminded her. “War tends to do that to people.”

She didn’t like that answer. I could tell, even if she didn’t argue. “Very well, then. Come with me.”

I started to stand, but my knees nearly buckled underneath me. Before I could fall, Araxie seemed to appear out of nowhere and helped me steady myself. She was petite, a full foot shorter than I was actually, and yet I could feel strength in her that probably surpassed my own.

“S-sorry,” I stammered with embarrassment. “I feel strange. Like I’ve been asleep for a long time. How long was I out?”

“Three days.” Once I was confident enough to walk on my own, she stood back and took a long length of black silk from a hook. She began to roughly wrap it around my waist several times before tying off the ends and tucking them in. “The power of Lapiloque has been sleeping inside you for a very long time, but it can only be awakened when you accept Paligno’s blessing. Things will be different now. Now that the ritual has been completed, you will embody his power and be able to control the things of nature.”

I realized that this must have been the same ritual Sile had told me about. “And if I had refused?”

“Your power would have faded away and been given to another,” she replied matter-of-factly. “There must always be a Lapiloque. It is the balance, you see. So long as the stone endures, so too must the speaker endure with it.”

Her vibrant eyes caught mine under the dim light. She held out two more things for me to take, both of which I had given up as lost forever. One was the scimitar—the one with the stag’s head on the pommel that had been robbed from the King of Maldobar years ago. I took it and slid it into my waist wrap. The other was the handkerchief Beckah had given to me before my avian year of training. It was stained with sweat and blood now, and some of the edges were getting ragged, but the sight of it made me smile.

“I know this beast,” Araxie muttered as she pointed to the image of Icarus, the black king drake, embroidered onto the fabric. “I have seen it in battle. This is a woman’s token, is it not?”

I blushed. “Yes. It was a gift.”

“From the one who rides the black dragon.” She sent me a satisfied grin. “I knew it must be a woman when first we fought.”

“How?” I was curious how Araxie had figured that out. Granted, Beckah was definitely a woman, but I thought she’d done a pretty decent job of obscuring that fact so she could fight.

“Because I’ve never met a man, human or elf, who could match me in battle. When she bested me, I knew it must be a woman.” She twirled a hand in the air like it was obvious as she swaggered away.

When she opened the door of the hut, the sounds and smells of the jungle rushed in at me like a warm tidal wave. For whatever reason, I’d just assumed we were on the ground. We definitely weren’t. We were at least a hundred feet in the air, inside a hut that hung off the side of a giant tree. Gazing out, I could see the endless expanse of the forest all around us. Other huts like ours clung to the sides of the trees, connected by the spiraling staircases engraved into the bark. There were swinging bridges and intricate terraces that formed a network—a whole village far above the jungle floor. Its beauty was staggering, and I was immediately transfixed by it.

Araxie had been exactly right—things were different now. There wasn’t any stress or strain on my body to feel the world around me. I didn’t have to focus or force myself to listen to the voices of the jungle. It didn’t cause me any discomfort. They were a part of me, every bit as constant as Mavrik’s presence in my mind.

Araxie stood beside me in the doorway. I noticed she didn’t look nearly as mesmerized by this place as I was. If anything, she looked deeply worried. Something was still bothering her. I certainly wasn’t any kind of genius when it came to women and the way their minds worked, but even I could tell that much. She was frowning and chewing on the inside of her cheek again, looking around like she was expecting something bad to happen at any moment.

“Come along, if you still insist on seeing that murderous friend of yours,” she said and gave me a nudge out the door.

“Jace,” I corrected her. “His name is Jace.”

She just wafted a hand in the air like it didn’t matter what anyone called him.

We left the hut and began making our way down the elaborately carved staircases and across the swinging bridges that led to the ground in a zigzag pattern. On the way, I realized Araxie wasn’t the only one acting tense around me. The villagers we passed wouldn’t even look me in the eye. They bowed their heads or turned their faces as though they didn’t want to have anything to do with me.

Eventually, I got up the nerve to ask Araxie what was going on.

“They are ashamed, too.” She glanced back at me with a small, reassuring smile. “Because of what happened they fear you will refuse to help us now.”

Directly in front of us, I saw a young woman with a pair of toddlers, trying to herd them out of our path. She appeared flustered and afraid, and she kept casting panicked glances in my direction. Suddenly, one of her children broke free of her grasp and came running toward me. She cried out in alarm, calling for him to come back.

The little boy, who couldn’t have been more than two, didn’t pay her any attention. Instead, he wrapped himself around one of my legs. He gazed up at me with big, curious eyes sparkling in all different hues. When he grinned at me, I bent down and picked him up. His poor mother was pale with fear. She stood by, clinging to her other child while she glanced between Araxie and me like she wasn’t sure what to do.

“Funny thing about being a halfbreed—if I didn’t know how to survive a little abuse, then I wouldn’t have any friends at all,” I said and smiled as I handed the child back to his awestruck mother. “Don’t worry about it. You’re not the first ones to beat me within an inch of my life. I doubt you’ll be the last.”

I almost ran into Araxie when I turned back around to keep following her. She had stopped to watch and was gazing up at me curiously. “You don’t look anything like her,” she said quietly. “But when you speak, I hear her spirit.”

“My mother?”

She nodded. “I was just a little girl when she walked among us. But she taught me so much. We all loved her, Jaevid. That’s why no one understood it when she left. I think it hurt my father most of all because she had always been something of a mentor to him, even if she was the younger of the two. He trusted her above all others. Without her, he … seemed to think his fate was sealed to fail.”

“She never mentioned any of this to me. I didn’t know I had any family here.” It was a little painful to admit that. I didn’t understand why my mother had kept this all from me.

“There must have been a reason,” Araxie decided. “She always had reasons for everything she did.”

I wanted to believe that was true. And yet when it came down to it, I was forced to acknowledge the hard truth that I hadn’t really known my mother at all. I’d known her smiles, her love, and her gentle words. Those things were important. But now I was wishing she had told me more about herself, her family, and what my future might be like.

Araxie gave me another nudge, pushing her shoulder against mine to get my attention. She offered a tentative, comforting smile. It made her already pretty face glow with otherworldly beauty. And once again, I got the eerie sensation that I’d seen that smile somewhere before.

“It seems like you’ve had an interesting journey,” she said. “You should tell us about it. It might help everyone feel more at ease if they knew where you came from and how you got here.”

She was probably right about that. And telling them about my past might actually help me start to piece together some of the mysteries in my life. I also had a faint hope that it might help guide my steps in the future.

Our eyes met again, and that’s when it hit me. All of a sudden, I realized who she reminded me of. She favored my mother. They had the same face shape and that familiar glittering energy in their eyes. When Araxie smiled, it was even more obvious. The family resemblance was strong.

And for whatever reason, that put a twinge of jealousy in my gut. I looked so much like my human father. Now that I’d met her, I started wishing I looked a little more like my mother’s side of the family.

I kept those thoughts to myself and followed her down to the ground toward the ancient temple. There was so much to take in—villagers going about their daily lives all around me—I didn’t realize where we were going until I was standing on the stone front steps.

We entered the temple through a pair of massive double doors. Inside, a long atrium boasted a domed ceiling that was open to the jungle above. All manner of plant life was spilling down into it, growing down the walls and filling the spacious room with the smell of flowers and earth. The floor was adorned in a beautiful mosaic of Paligno, the stag-like creature who was supposed to be a god, standing amidst a sea of stars.

“Seems like an odd place to torture your prisoners,” I pointed out.

Araxie didn’t look back as she led the way deeper into the temple. “Believe me; I have no preconceived notions that Paligno won’t punish us somehow for this sacrilege. But if there’s any excuse for it, it’s only that we have nowhere else to go. Sometimes I think the only reason we haven’t suffered any divine wrath is because we are already living in hell.”

“What do you mean?”

“First, see to your friend. We’ll discuss the rest after,” she whispered quietly as we came to a stop at an open doorway. Beyond it, a few oil lamps created heavy shadows in a small, windowless room. I could smell incense burning, and the familiar sickly sweet scent of infection.

Jace was lying on a pallet on the floor with a few old women, who must have been healers, seated around him. They were burning medicinal herbs that filled the air with fragrant smoke and making poultices to help cleanse his wounds of infection.

When I entered, however, they all bowed their heads and began to clear the room. They didn’t go far. In fact, there was quite an audience of people gathered in the doorway, pushing and shoving to watch. It was bizarre, and I could sense their hopeful apprehension at what I was going to do.

Even though it had been a few days since our last beating, Jace didn’t look good at all. He looked worse, actually. His face was more ashen. There were dark circles around his eyes. His body was covered in a sheen of sweat and his breathing was shallow and labored. He was in pain. I could sense it. I could taste it like a coppery flavor in my mouth.

I knelt down and put my hand against his forehead. “Jace?”

He didn’t respond.

Through that small amount of contact, I could tell he was fading. He wouldn’t live much longer. Not unless I intervened. I wasn’t sure what to expect from my power now. Things were definitely different, and I honestly wasn’t sure what I might be capable of, be it good or bad.

But for his sake, I had to try.

Before, whenever I healed someone, it always caused a stretching, straining sensation that drained me to the point of near exhaustion. Now, it was as simple as reaching out to hug someone, and it gave me a warm feeling very similar to that. It was comfortable.

I simply took some of the power that now flowed freely through my veins and used it like a thread to stitch his broken body back together in my mind’s eye. I saw the palm of my hand beginning to glow with radiant green light. I felt Jace’s heartbeat quicken. His body grew tense. I flushed the fever from his system—the infection, the suffering, the broken bones—I took it all and washed his body clean of every ailment.

And at the end, when my work was done, I was completely at peace. That is, until I got a glimpse of something I hadn’t intended to.

It only lasted a second or two, but it left me reeling: the image of a young boy standing barefoot in the ashes of a burning city, his clothes tattered and his tears making clean streaks down his face. He looked terrified. And he looked quite a bit like Jace. There were chains around his neck and wrists, binding him to the saddle of a black horse. I saw the reflections of flames in his eyes, burning brightly against a dreary sky.

And then it was gone. I took in a sharp breath. I’d been able to meld my mind with animals before. That wasn’t difficult. But for as many times as I’d healed people, I’d never gotten anything in return except violently ill. I’d never been able to glimpse into their minds.

Until now.

I looked down to find that Jace’s physical appearance had changed. He looked like himself again. The swelling, bruises, and fever were all gone. His skin had a natural, healthy glow to it and his breathing was calm, deep, and even. He didn’t appear to be aware of what I had seen in his mind. A nightmare or a memory … or perhaps both.

From the doorway, I heard whispers of amazement from my captive audience. Some of them had started chanting what I suspected were most likely prayers. It was weird, and it made me pretty uncomfortable. I wanted to leave.

I glanced over at Araxie, who was quietly stepping into the room. She squatted beside me and studied Jace with a steely expression. “Will he live?”

“Yes.” I was confident about that much, at least. “He just needs to rest now.”

Without needing to look up, I could feel the pressure of her intense gaze upon me. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

I had to laugh. “Yeah. A few times.”

There wasn’t any time to celebrate my ability to heal people without almost killing myself in the process. From outside the temple, the sound of horns blaring echoed through the halls all around us. I looked at Araxie. The color was draining from her face.

She cursed in the elven language and jumped to her feet, stealing out of the room without an explanation. I followed her as she walked briskly back out onto the temple’s front steps, right into the face of absolute chaos. Gray elves were running everywhere, screaming as they frantically tried to gather up their belongings and family members. They were coming straight for us, fleeing into the temple.

Araxie didn’t run. She stood firm, her eyes narrowed, and her silver hair flying. I heard her make a sound, like the shrill call of a bird, and from overhead there was an answering, shrieking sound that I knew all too well.

Her shrike landed before us, snapping its jaws eagerly as she stepped lightly to the saddle and unhooked her blades, bow, and quiver. Her sharp eyes tracked to me, and at once I understood. I’d seen that look before—though not on her face.

Something was coming.

As villagers ran past us, packing themselves into the temple for shelter, I shrugged out of the long, bell sleeves of my tunic and tied them around my waist. I couldn’t afford to have them getting in the way. I drew the scimitar from my hip and took a place beside Araxie. The heavy temple doors shut behind us, sealing off the temple, but we weren’t alone. Other gray elf warriors dropped from the trees armed with their bows, spears, and swords.

Kiran was among them. He came over immediately and stood beside me, glancing me up and down swiftly as though he were surprised to see me out here with them. “Those clothes don’t suit you,” he muttered as he pulled an arrow from his quiver and strung it along his bowstring.

“I agree.” I smirked.

“Hush!” Araxie hissed, raising a hand and calling her warriors to attention.

We stood frozen, listening to the forest around us. At first, everything seemed normal. I started to wonder if it had been a false alarm, although I didn’t know what we were looking for to begin with. Then I felt it.

Weight settled over my chest, squeezing at my mind uncomfortably. It was a burning, stinging sort of pressure, and it offended that part of my soul that was now fused with Paligno. The balance was compromised. The wild was turning on itself.

The jungle at the far edge of the temple grounds began to move, shuddering violently a few seconds before the monsters burst through it. Two primate-like beasts with stumpy hind legs, huge muscular front arms, and wooly hides mottled with crystalline-looking growths and moss stormed the clearing. Each one was at least fifteen feet to the shoulder, and I could sense the raw brute force of their strength.

Whatever they were, they were possessed by the sickness—the rage that was also infecting animals in Maldobar. Their gaping, toothy maws foamed. Their eyes were so bloodshot that they seemed to glow red. They wouldn’t be deterred. They had come for blood.

Araxie never flinched. She tilted her chin down toward her chest, her eyes never leaving her enemy, and gave the command to open fire. Arrows hummed through the air, but even I could tell that wasn’t going to do much besides make these animals angrier than ever. Their hides were bound to be too thick for an arrow or a sword to pierce.

I was trying figure what to do, or if there was some way I could help. Without my dragon, I wasn’t sure what use I would be. All of a sudden, I felt something—something new. It was like a tugging on the back of my mind, like someone was poking me repeatedly to get my attention. It wasn’t Mavrik or any other presence I was familiar with.

I turned my focus to it. Tingling heat swept over my skin, and thoughts started whirling through my brain almost faster than I could comprehend. They were a flurry of pictures, of scenes like from my dreams. I saw someone else fighting a creature like this, wielding power over the jungle. Then I remembered something my mother had said to me before. My dreams weren’t dreams. They were memories.

I knew what I had to do. I sheathed my blade and glanced at Kiran. “Watch my back.”

He nodded.

While Araxie led her warriors in an assault on the monsters, I let my mind retreat to the fountain of power bubbling up from inside me. I flexed my will, calling on the jungle to observe my place as Paligno’s chosen one—just like the figure from my vision.

And this time, it obeyed without question.

The ground rumbled. The trees groaned. Before me, the earth split and a fissure opened up. It spouted roots and vines by the hundreds. They surged skyward like a living tied, twisting together and taking on a humanoid shape.

My golem lumbered forward at my command, bigger than both the simian creatures that bellowed at it in fury. They charged, and I braced for impact.

The golem moved when I moved, driven by my gestures, and I managed to grab the first of the creatures by its scraggly neck. It pounded its giant fists into my golem’s head, snapping vines and roots with each blow. It was much stronger than I anticipated. But I felt no pain, and neither did my elemental creation.

I grappled with it, flinging the beast to the ground just as the second one mauled me. My golem stumbled under its weight, and I pitched to try to fling it off.

But I wasn’t in this fight alone.

Araxie was incredibly fast. And her aim with the bow was flawless. She fired a shot straight into a weak spot under the primate’s arm, piercing softer skin and making the beast howl in pain. It fell off my golem, giving me a chance to wheel around and pin it.

The first monster was getting up, dazed but undeterred. It began thundering toward the fight again, slinging foam as it roared. One golem wasn’t going to do it.

I needed to try something else. Something new. I tapped into those memories again, searching for something more powerful to try.

I drew my scimitar again and raised it skyward, pressing power into the metal until it glowed with energy. Then I plunged it into the ground. A shockwave went out around me, spreading like a ripple on a pond. It made a low, concussive sound and for a few seconds, there was silence.

Suddenly, a chorus of screeches went up from the trees around us. Shrikes descended like a flock of ravenous crows, blurring through the air and attacking the first monster mid-charge. Maybe it could have handled one or two shrikes without a problem, but the primate wasn’t able to deal with thirty or so. Jaws laced with venom bit at the creature from all sides, overwhelming it and bearing it to the ground. It pitched and flailed, trying to beat them off. But there was no escape.

Without my will to drive it, the second beast was ripping my golem apart like a scarecrow. At least it was distracted. I turned just in time to see Araxie pouncing fearlessly from an overhanging limb, her bow drawn taut with three arrows notched. She fired all three at once, finding yet another soft spot on the back of the simian’s skull—just like she had with Ghost.

The creature froze instantly. Its bulky arms drooped. It made a sad, gurgling sound and fell face-forward onto the ground … and it didn’t move again.

Standing over her kill, the gray elf princess looked wild. Her formal dress was tattered some, and her hair was falling out of its intricate braided design. She looked at me, and I understood why Jace had had such a hard time fighting her. She was truly a force to be reckoned with.

The gray elf warriors rallied quickly, falling back to the front of the temple and forming a line in front of me. Araxie strutted proudly in front of them, her shoulders back and her chin tilted up with pride. She wasted no time putting them to work. Injuries had been minimal, so there were plenty of hands at her disposal.

I watched them split off. One group formed a scouting party who left to secure the perimeter of the village and make sure there weren’t any more surprise monsters coming to visit. The rest began cutting the dead animals apart.

“Nothing will be wasted. Meat is too hard to come by not to harvest everything we possibly can.” Araxie glanced me up and down as she sauntered over to stand with her arms crossed, an authoritative scowl on her face. “I suppose I owe you my gratitude. This is the first encounter in years where we haven’t had to bury any of our own.”

I wished I could have felt happier or more proud about that. “So this sickness isn’t just affecting the animals in Maldobar,” I realized aloud. “How long has it been here?”

Araxie and Kiran exchanged a glance like they suspected I might be out of my mind.

“Jaevid, it began here.” Araxie cleared her throat. “It seems there is much more you don’t know.”

Araxie tried insisting that I should stay in my own hut. I guess it was strange for the stonespeaker not to be staying with the royal family, and the hut in question had been cleared out especially for me. But I couldn’t accept that. I wanted to stay near Jace. I knew when he finally woke up he was probably going to be confused and afraid of our hosts. That was totally understandable. And I definitely had a lot of explaining to do. Poor Jace knew basically nothing about my past or anything I’d been through before he became my instructor.

Boy was he in for a surprise.

The gray elves brought back all our armor and gear, fixing up the stuffy little room in the temple as comfortably as they could with another bed and soft fur pelts on the floor. The villagers still wouldn’t meet my eyes for more than a second or two, though. I wondered how long that would last. It was beginning to make me uneasy.

The morning after those simian beasts had attacked, I stepped out of the room Jace and I were sharing to find a heap of stuff piled all around the doorway. I almost tripped over it. There were pots, bits of jewelry, weapons, and portions of food wrapped up like presents.

“Gifts from the villagers.”

Kiran was standing off to the side, just out of sight. The sudden sound of his voice about scared me to death.

“Gifts? Why?” I squatted to pick up a dagger made of strange white material. It wasn’t bone. In fact, it almost felt like some sort of wood.

Kiran smirked. “Word has spread of what you did—singlehandedly bringing down two graulers. You saved many lives.”

I rolled my eyes. “Technically, Araxie killed the second one.”

“It seems she’s willing to give you the credit if it will help smooth things over.” He shrugged. “So now everyone is thankful to have Paligno’s blessed one among us again. It is the first time in a decade they’ve had anything to celebrate. A small victory.”

“I’m still waiting for someone to explain that to me,” I reminded him.

“Soon, caenu. King Erandur has emerged from his mourning to announce there will be a great feast tonight. I suspect you’ll get all the answers you can stand there.”

I studied him carefully. “So why won’t you call me by my name? By now I’m sure you know what it is.”

“Does it matter what I call you?” He arched one of his eyebrows.

“Calling me a piece of filth isn’t exactly a pet name,” I pointed out.

Kiran grinned devilishly, almost like he was hoping I would want to fight about it. “You misunderstand. Gray elf men must never be too friendly unless they are family.”

“Oh really? Why is that?”

“Because we compete for the same thing,” he said as he made a curvy outline of a feminine shape in the air with his fingers. “We are rivals until one of us takes a mate.”

I chuckled. “I’ve already chosen mine. And I doubt very much she’d be someone you would want, unless you’re interested in human women.”

He furrowed his brow, but didn’t look quite as disgusted as I’d expected he might. “Oh.”

“So call me Jae.” I started moving some of the gifts around to make a path so I could at least get out the door.

Kiran wandered over to help me. I noticed he was also examining every gift, like he was trying to decide if it was something he might want or not. He picked up the dagger I had been examining earlier, testing the point by pricking his own finger. It was definitely sharp.

“See anything you like?” I decided to give him that invitation, since I didn’t see myself trying to haul all of this stuff out of Luntharda anytime soon.

He flicked me a disbelieving look. “You don’t know what this is, do you?”

I could only make a pathetic guess. “A nice knife?”

“A greevwood blade,” he corrected me. “Very rare. Very difficult to harvest. Greevwood trees only grow deep in Luntharda. Once you cut away their flesh, you only have a few hours to shape it before it hardens. Then it can never be cracked or broken. Blades made from it will never go dull.”

I studied the blade with a new appreciation. “I see.”

“No, you don’t.” He twirled the blade over his hand as though he were testing its balance. “That is not what makes them so rare. Greevwood trees are flesh-eaters.”

That struck a chord. All of a sudden, I remembered reading about these in my studies as a fledgling rider. There were trees in Luntharda known to be carnivorous, and they were considered highly dangerous.

“The roots grow out over the ground like a spider’s web,” he continued. “They are covered in many tiny hairs. When touched, they release a dust in the air. I forget the human word for it.”

“Spores?”

He nodded. “Yes. When you breathe it in, it makes your body go numb. You become paralyzed and very easy to digest by those hungry roots.”

I shuddered and looked at the blade more carefully as he offered it to me. The idea of a tree eating anything was downright creepy. I didn’t like the visual at all.

Kiran smirked. “You see? This is not a trinket. It is a valuable gift.”

“Understood.” I took it from him and slipped it into my belt.

He finished helping me sort through the gifts, moving as many of them into my small room as we could fit. The commotion must have been louder than I realized because it woke up Jace, who started groaning and rolling over. He appeared delirious at first, like maybe he thought we were still at the tower in Northwatch.

Then he bolted upright and his eyes shot to me with utter terror. He spotted Kiran and scrambled off his sleeping pallet, snatching up the nearest thing he could use as a weapon—which wound up being one of his own boots.

“It’s all right, Jace.” I tried to sound comforting. “Relax. Everything is fine.”

He clearly didn’t believe me, not that I blamed him. He snarled at Kiran, brandishing that boot threateningly as he backed himself into a corner. His hands were clenched until his knuckles were white and his chest was heaving in frantic breaths.

“Kiran, can you give us a few minutes?” I decided it was probably better to do this without a gray elf looming in the room. Once he was gone, I shut the door, which wasn’t much more than a curtain strung over the entrance, and started to explain.

It took a long time, even though Jace knew I wasn’t exactly normal to start with. After all, he’d seen me heal people before. But there was still a lot to tell. Starting from the beginning, with my encounter with the slavers, my nightmares and visions, my discovery about my father, how Sile was involved in everything, and the fact that I was apparently the chosen servant of an ancient forest deity … it would have been a lot for anyone to take in.

Jace took it better than I expected, though. He only cussed at me a few times. Sitting on his pallet again, angrily lacing his boots and vambraces up, he shot me several scathing glares. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

“I didn’t tell many people,” I admitted. “I was afraid of what would happen, or that I’d be accused of being a traitor for something that isn’t my fault. I can’t help what I am, or what I can do. The dreams I had were terrifying to me. And I had no way of knowing what they were supposed to mean.”

He didn’t look sympathetic. He shot me another punishing look and stood up to buckle his kidney belt around his waist. “And now we’re stuck here with the savages, being held captive until they decide to butcher us again.”

“I don’t think that’ll happen,” I said. “We’re not captives anymore.”

“You aren’t,” he corrected me and put an accusing finger in my face. “I’m still the one who murdered three of the king’s sons. The magical elf rock didn’t choose me, idiot.”

I scowled back. “You think I’d just toss you to the wolves? I’ve already stuck my neck out for you. Araxie wanted to let you die. I wouldn’t allow it.”

He snorted. “Maybe you should have.”

“My sentiments exactly,” a sarcastic female voice chimed in. Araxie was standing in the doorway, her hips cocked arrogantly. She was looking at Jace appraisingly, like she was sizing him up in case she found a good excuse to kill him later.

He started to glare bitterly back at her, his lip curled into a challenging sneer. But for whatever reason, he seemed to have a hard time keeping that expression up for very long. Maybe it had something to do with the way the light of our oil lamps made her darkly tanned skin gleam like bronze. Or maybe it was the way her long, platinum colored hair flowed over her chest all the way to her narrow, bare midriff.

Whatever it was—the longer Jace stared, the less angry he looked. I saw him swallow stiffly.

Araxie obviously wasn’t as impressed with him. She just made a dismissive pfft sound and looked right back at me. “My father desires that you come and join us tonight for a feast in your honor. You and your human pet.”

Jace growled a few profane words under his breath that I couldn’t quite make out. He turned around and started angrily fidgeting with his sheath and twin swords.

“We’ll be there,” I told her.

The princess flicked a quick, spiteful smirk at Jace’s back. “Excellent. I hope you’ll both enjoy our hospitality.”

“I’ve had about all of their hospitality I can stand,” Jace muttered after she had gone. “That little witch is just waiting for a chance to put a blade through my neck. You just wait. They’ll find some excuse to do it. I’ll be roasting on a rotisserie with a big fat apple in my mouth by nightfall.”

I smirked and shook my head. “On the contrary, Jace. I think you like her.”

The whole village had worked tirelessly all day to prepare for this feast, and they wouldn’t let me lift a finger to help. A bonfire was built in the middle of the courtyard, stacked high with the pieces of my golem that couldn’t be used for anything else. By the time it began to grow dark, things were beginning to get lively. Lanterns were lit throughout the tree-born huts and walkways, making the jungle around us sparkle like a sea of warm yellow stars. Slabs of meat from the graulers had been marinated in fruit juices and herbs and now sizzled over red-hot coals. Barrels of wine and strange smelling breads were passed around.

A group of older men and women were playing bizarre pipe instruments and beating on drums. They filled the clearing with music, which in turn got the young women dancing. Children ran to and fro, chasing each other and laughing. Young men and warriors sat together in small groups, talking and eyeing me from afar. I couldn’t tell if they were just curious or trying to decide if I was a rival or not.

Jace must have been incredibly nervous. I couldn’t think of any other reason he’d stick so close to my side as we approached the festivities. I’d managed to talk him out of carrying his weapons, since that would definitely send the wrong message. He wasn’t happy about it. Not one teensy bit. And I had a sneaking suspicion that he was sticking so close to me not because I made him feel any safer—but because he planned on using me as a living shield if things went badly.

Blankets and furs had been spread out on the ground for everyone to get comfortable on. I found a place next to Araxie to sit down, but I still didn’t see her father anywhere. She smiled at me, and passed another quick, unenthusiastic look at Jace who sat down on my other side and began to sulk.

Araxie was dressed in fancier, more intricate clothes than usual. Although, they still showed way more female skin than I was used to seeing. There were colorful feathers and beads woven into her hair, and a bit of red paint dabbed onto her lips and in a pretty flower design on her forehead. Long dangling earrings made of hammered copper hung from her pointed ears, and there was a string of crudely cut precious stones around her neck. Most of the young women were dressed up sort of like that, but her attire was decidedly more extravagant. It marked her as a notch above the rest on the social ladder.

“Father should be here soon,” she said as she passed me a goblet of what smelled like some sort of sweet, fruity wine. “Does your pet want anything?”

Jace’s jaw clenched as though he were gritting his teeth. He scowled, crossed his arms, and looked away. Thankfully, he didn’t retort. Since I wasn’t interested in repeating my last experience with alcohol, I passed the goblet of wine to him. He sniffed it, curled his lip, but took a drink anyway.

When King Erandur finally made an appearance, the music fell silent. No one spoke or moved, apart from leaning so they could get a glimpse of him. I thought at first it was only because he hadn’t come out of his chambers in several days.

I was wrong, though.

The king had cut his hair. All those flowing locks of silvery white were gone. His hair was as short as mine now, lopped off right at his chin.

“Why did he do that?” I gave Araxie an uncomfortable glance because I had a feeling it had something to do with me.

“To express his shame and sorrow for what was done to you,” she whispered.

The king didn’t look happy at all about being here as he made his way to where we were sitting. Araxie scooted away from me, offering him the seat of honor between us. But before he could sit down, I decided I needed to do something to smooth things over.

I stood up swiftly and stepped toward the king. He regarded me with a wide-eyed, cautious expression and hesitated, as though he wasn’t sure what to expect from me. Granted, I probably did look much more intimidating now that I wasn’t beaten to a pulp. I was younger, a lot taller, and far more muscular than he was.

Sitting on the ground behind me, Araxie was watching me like a hawk. In fact, everyone in the whole village seemed to be holding their breath to see what I was going to do.

“Lapiloque—” the elven king began to address me.

I hugged him.

Sure, I was well within my right to be furious for what he had put me through. He’d nearly killed me. No amount of chopped off hair was going to fix that. And yet I wanted to get past this somehow. I wanted to get to know him. He was family.

King Erandur was completely stiff. It was like embracing a corpse. So I didn’t force-hug him for long. I squeezed him once, just for good measure, and stood back to smile.

“I’m glad to officially meet you, Uncle,” I said.

Erandur’s mouth was hanging wide open. It was awkward. I could tell he was struggling to regain some of his composure. At last, he extended a hand toward me with uncertainty written all over his face. “I am … pleased to have the honored Lapiloque amongst my people again.”

Araxie giggled. She was smiling from one pointed ear to the other. I guess from where she was sitting, it looked like things were going well. That was reassuring.

I wasn’t so sure, though. The king wouldn’t acknowledge me as a blood relative. I didn’t know if that was because I was expected to act as Lapiloque first, and as family second—or if it was because he still harbored a lot of resentment toward my mother.

I hoped to get to the bottom of that as we all sat down again. The music resumed, and the villagers began passing around big platters and bowls of food. It was a different way of eating a meal than I’d experienced before. They didn’t make themselves a plate—they just ate a few bites off the platters as they were passed around over and over.

The food was delicious, though, and even Jace seemed to be enjoying it. He never said that out loud, of course, but I noticed he was eating a lot. He also apparently liked their sweet wine, too, because he refilled his cup four times before I lost count.

The feast also brought out a side of the gray elves I’d never seen before. Young women in their flashy, revealing clothes danced together before the light of the roaring fire. They smiled and swayed their hips in teasing ways, stopping only long enough to pull other people up to join in. It didn’t take long for the men to take them up on that offer. They approached me, too. Thankfully, I was able to respectfully bow out of every invitation. I had a good excuse. Despite lots of practice and coaching, I was a horrible dancer, and the way the gray elves did it was even more bizarre than what I’d attempted before.

Araxie had been sitting quietly beside her father while we ate and drank, but her eyes never left the dancers who were frolicking in the firelight. When another pretty elf woman came over to invite us to join in, she jumped up and linked arms with her. The two women giggled and wandered back toward the bonfire, disappearing into the crowds.

Now I was alone with Jace and the king—neither of which were making for very good company so far. Jace was scowling at the dancers, although I noticed his eyes were scanning the crowds like he was watching someone in particular. The king, on the other hand, had produced a long wooden pipe and was puffing smoke rings over the rim of his wine glass.

Great. Lucky me.

After what felt like an eternity of sitting next to each other and awkwardly avoiding eye contact, King Erandur finally spoke up, “My daughter speaks very highly of you.”

I spotted Araxie through the moving crowds. She was smiling and moving with the music. The firelight gleamed off her silk clothes and jewelry. “I feel as though I haven’t done anything to deserve that kind of loyalty from her. But I’m thankful. I owe her a lot already.”

“She is a good judge of character,” he said as he puffed another smoke ring. “Far better than I am, it would seem.”

As long as he was talking, I decided this was as good a time as any to start trying to get some answers. Too bad there wasn’t a smooth way to broach that topic. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that there’s a lot we need to talk about.”

“Yes. I know.” His reply was hushed and somber. When I turned to meet his gaze, I was surprised to catch him staring at me with that mournful look in his eyes again.

“I hate to spoil the party, but there’s a lot of people losing their lives in a war that—as best I can tell—my father is responsible for. I’d like to do what I can to put an end to it.” I wasn’t going to try to justify what Ulric had done. He didn’t deserve that.

“Answer me this first.” Erandur began studying me intensely. “How did my sister die?”

I let my gaze wander back toward the bonfire. Talking about my mom was still difficult. And it was even harder to do it with someone like Erandur, even if he was her brother. “Of a sickness. I honestly don’t remember much beyond that. I was young, and losing her meant I had to go live with my human father, who had nothing but hatred for me.”

The king sat quietly, as though he were reflecting on those words.

When he didn’t speak up, I kept talking. I realized this was my chance to argue my mother’s case and heal some old wounds. “We lived in a refugee ghetto in the royal city. Our house was tiny, but she could make anywhere feel like home. She grew things all the time. Our house was always filled with all sorts of flowers and vegetables. She never told me anything about you, or Araxie, or that she was the Lapiloque. When she gave me this necklace, I had no idea it meant anything at all.”

“That is the totem of the Lapiloque,” Erandur explained. “It is passed on to whoever inherits the gift. Legend says that it is carved from the bone of Paligno.”

I instinctively ran my hand over the smooth, white bone pendant. “It’s the only piece of my mother I have left.”

“And the human man? Your father? Did she marry him?” His voice was stiff.

I frowned. “No.”

“Did she love him?”

That was a difficult question for me to think about. As a child, I’d never paid much attention to which men my mother seemed to prefer, so I had to think it over. “Ulric had another family. He had a human wife and children. Whatever relationship he had with my mother began and ended with me—at least, that was the impression I was always given. I already told you how he felt about me. I never saw any evidence that he felt any differently about my mother. He never talked about her at all. And she never told me that she cared for him, either.”

Erandur let out a deep sigh. He bowed his head slightly as though in resignation. “Then I am the biggest fool of all. I assumed that when she left us, she simply betrayed us. I thought she had run off with that human man who came here to plead for forgiveness for the sins of the traitor who took the stone.”

“Sile Derrick?”

He shot me a suspicious look. “You know him?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “He and my mother were definitely conspiring about something, and I believe that something was me. But I don’t think there was ever anything romantic between them. Sile has his own family, and it’s always been clear to me that he loves them deeply.”

“When she left with him, it tore my people apart. They lost faith in my ability to protect them. Lapiloque symbolizes the blessing of the gods upon us. It is an immense responsibility and one that we have always taken very seriously.” Erandur’s tone was still cold. His expression had become hard and fierce as he glared straight ahead. “What you see before you is all that remains of my once proud nation. Two thousand men, women, and children where once I governed hundreds of thousands throughout this land.”

I found myself at a loss for words. Looking around at the people who were dancing, laughing, and enjoying their meal … it put guilt like a heavy weight in my chest. I’d assumed that this was only one small settlement—a tiny piece of a much larger population. Hearing that this was all that remained of them was nothing short of horrifying.

“Because of the war?” I asked.

He snorted as though he wished that were the case. “Some, yes. But the jungle has devoured more than the human ranks ever could. When Paligno’s curse began to spread, many fled to your human kingdom. I assumed they had found refuge there.”

I was starting to feel sick. Refuge? No. They’d found a new form of hell. They’d been forced to live in squalor, starving and constantly abused by city guards. They’d been rounded up and driven to prison camps or sold as slaves. And now they were being murdered.

“The curse will only grow worse. Like with the graulers,” Araxie’s voice chimed in suddenly. She had come up behind us to eavesdrop without either of us noticing. “When the god stone is removed from its sacred resting place within the tomb, the balance is thrown off. All of nature turns upon itself violently in order to find it and restore it. That is what we call Paligno’s curse.”

“You mean like the madness? The same one that’s spreading through Maldobar now?” Jace surprised us all when he spoke up. I hadn’t even realized he was listening in.

Araxie nodded. I saw their eyes meet briefly. “Most likely. It begins with the animals. First the lesser, stupider ones go mad. Then more and more dangerous creatures will be wakened to ravage the earth until the stone is found and brought back to the tomb.”

“And where is this tomb?” I demanded.

Erandur stretched out a finger, pointing to the cavernous pit where Paligno had appeared to me. “Down the stairs into the dark, that is where you’ll find the tomb of a god’s mortal body. Paligno once walked the earth along with the other ancient gods, seeding it with all manner of life. When he died, his physical body was entombed there, although his spirit endures eternally through the god stone. It acts as a host to his essence. Lapiloque is his fleshly servant chosen to carry out his will. The two must always exist.”

It was time. Hearing that and understanding now the true purpose of my birthright, I knew I had to tell them everything. And just like with Jace, it took a long time. There was a lot to tell.

I was nervous about how this news would be received. Even so, I didn’t spare any details. I told them all about the details of my dreams and nightmares, the visions of my mother, and the gray elf warrior murdering the King of Maldobar. I told them about my encounter with the paludix turtle, and how my powers had grown steadily over the years. When it came to Sile, I tried to be as forthcoming as possible without painting him in a negative light. He obviously knew a lot about what was going on, and he’d gone to great lengths to keep me ignorant of it. But he had insisted that I come here so I could see the suffering of my mother’s people—and I made sure they knew that.

Of course, they had a few questions. Well, more than a few actually. Araxie didn’t know much about human culture, so I had to explain a few things to her—like who the king’s elite guards were. They seemed to be taking everything well, nodding and listening, until I mentioned the king’s recent decree that moved all gray elves to the prison camps. I think they understood right away that was the same thing as a death sentence.

Araxie sat back. Her face was pasty white with horror. I could see her chest rising and falling with furious breaths. At last, I guess she couldn’t take it anymore. She stood up and stormed away from us without saying a word.

I didn’t blame her at all for being upset. I wasn’t exactly happy about it, either. The King of Maldobar was committing mass genocide against people who had come to him for peaceful refuge. It was inexcusable.

But where Araxie expressed brazen rage, her father simply bowed his head and closed his eyes. “Please forgive her. She is young.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” I replied. “If anything, I should be apologizing to you all. I was given this responsibility to help you, and I haven’t done anything. I’m sorry that it’s come to this. And I will do whatever I can to set things right.”

Erandur looked at me squarely—without frowning or glaring this time. For the first time, I got the impression he was actually seeing me. “Are you sure about that?”

I nodded firmly, although I felt he still knew something I didn’t.

“I think I can answer your questions about your dreams, Nephew.” He put his pipe back in his mouth and began puffing on it again. “I believe it’s time you learned a bit more about your relatives.”

My head was spinning, and it wasn’t from ale or wine this time—although I did feel like I needed to throw up. I left the feast early and started back toward the temple. I wanted to lie down and think things over for a while. I didn’t know what I should do, or even what I could do.

One thing was certain, however: I had to do something … because this infamous traitor they all called Hovrid was my brother.

According to Erandur, my mother had been married before, but her husband had passed away. She’d had another son, much older than I was, named Hovrid. He hadn’t been born blessed with Paligno’s power like I had. The way Erandur explained it, that wasn’t altogether abnormal. Sometimes that blessing even skipped generations. It was rare, and it wasn’t something my mother or anyone else got to choose. Only Paligno could pick the one who would be Lapiloque.

But for Hovrid, being passed over had been difficult for him to swallow. He’d harbored a lot of resentment toward my mother, who he blamed for having not been chosen. He hated her for it. He’d tried many times to reach the stone, to touch it or get a glimpse of it despite my mother’s warnings about what might happen. Touching it would drive a person to insanity. Glimpsing it, for those weaker in mind, might even have the same effect. Even I would have felt those effects if I had touched the stone before the ritual had been performed where Paligno had openly proclaimed me as his servant. No one was immune.

In the end, Hovrid driven himself mad, either from contact with the stone or from hatred and jealousy toward anyone else he deemed to be somehow superior to him.

He was sick in a way that couldn’t be cured. There’s no remedy for a wicked heart.

Erandur said that Hovrid had vanished a long time ago. They never knew where he went. And while they had tried to find him, scouring the jungle in hopes of bringing him back, other events had eclipsed the importance of his disappearance.

Namely, the theft of the god stone.

At last, the last few pieces of the puzzle were in place. The gray elf warrior from my dreams—the one who had butchered the King of Maldobar and his family—was Hovrid. He was the one who had urged my father to steal the god stone. And now, Erandur suspected he was the one ruling from Maldobar’s throne as a so-called king.

“Hovrid’s hatred for us is second only to his need to possess the god stone. If he cannot wield it, he will make sure no one else can,” Erandur had explained quietly. “We have all been deceived. We have spilt blood and destroyed countless lives warring against a false enemy.”

Those words were still ringing in my ears as I entered the atrium of the temple. Moonlight was spilling down through the opening in the ceiling. It made the large mosaic of Paligno sparkle under my feet.

“Tell me you can stop this.” A weak voice pleaded from the darkness.

It made me stop short. I turned around to see Araxie standing in a darkened corner, tears on her cheeks shining in the pale light, her expression wrathful.

“I’ve already lost a mother and three brothers to this war, Jaevid.” She started walking toward me slowly. “Likewise, I’m sure I have murdered just as many fathers, sons, and brothers from your homeland. I can’t justify it, though I want to. It has to stop. You have to return the god stone.”

That’s not all I had to do. She’d left too soon to hear her father telling me about Hovrid, but I figured she was probably already aware of who he was and that he was likely the culprit behind all this. I also suspected that she understood I would have to kill him in order to get the stone back. I doubted he would give it up easily. He’d spilt so much blood over it already, what were a few more drops?

“I will,” I promised, although I let my tone carry an edge. “But there’s something I need you to do for me.”

She didn’t hesitate. “Anything.”

“Teach me to fight like the gray elves do. I’ve seen how my enemy fights in my dreams. I’m no match for him right now. You said no man has ever beaten you in combat. So if I’m going to stand any chance against Hovrid, I’m going to need your skills.”

Araxie started to grin—but it wasn’t a friendly, warm, and fuzzy kind of expression. Her eyes burned like two cold stars in the darkness. I could see eagerness brimming in every corner of her face. “That, I can do.”

“And while you’re at it, you can teach me, too.” A heavy hand fell onto my shoulder. Beside me, Jace was wearing a determined glare.

“Teach a human dog the ways of my people?” she said like it was a deeply offensive, ridiculous idea.

“He can’t do it alone. There’s going to be an army of elite guards and dragonriders between the throne room and him.” Jace shook my shoulder gruffly. “We’ll have one shot at this. We need to even up the odds.”

I hadn’t expected him to be so comfortable with a plan to assassinate a king—even if it was Hovrid in disguise. But I guess hearing that he’d spent his life in sworn servitude to an imposter was enough to turn his loyalties. Or perhaps his loyalties were shifty to begin with.

“Human men are too weak.” Araxie flashed him a dismissive glance from head to foot. “You lack predatory instincts. Many generations of drinking too much liquor have made you fat and lazy. You won’t last a day.”

Jace narrowed his eyes challengingly. “Try me.”

Dragonriders don’t generally use bows in the air. Our weapon of choice is always our dragon’s flame. Bows can be clumsy in flight, and it’s difficult to aim while accounting for wind and constantly changing direction. At least, that’s what I’d always been taught. Now some riders had an uncanny amount of skill with it—like Sile and Beckah. But I’d only handled a bow maybe ten times during my training—just enough to establish that I definitely wasn’t some kind of rare, bow-wielding prodigy.

Big surprise there.

But the next morning, Araxie started her own brutal form of training, and teaching us to work with an elven bow was the first thing on her list. There were no more flowing, showy robes in my wardrobe. Jace and I were given the same sort of garb that gray elf warriors wore under their armor. It amounted to a pair of dark pants, a sleeveless silk tunic, and a pair of vambraces that were made with wrist stabilizers.

Araxie was also wearing something similar, though her pants were split up the sides to show off her legs and her shirt was shorter and much more fitted to reveal most of her midriff. She shoved a bow and quiver into our hands first thing in the morning and began leading the way out of the village.

Jace eyed the bow like he wasn’t impressed. “Never in a million years did I think I would be learning archery this way,” he muttered.

“From a gray elf?” I guessed.

He snorted and rolled his eyes. “No. From a woman.”

We weren’t alone as we began our dangerous trek away from the temple grounds. A few other curious warriors were following us—including Kiran. It was obvious they had a much easier time keeping up with the princess as she climbed over the railing of a high terrace and began running along the mossy, broad limbs of the trees. She moved like a jungle cat. She was sleek, quiet, and quick as a shadow as she stepped lightly through the trees with her weapons strung across her back. There was something dangerously beautiful about it.

I heard Jace cursing wildly under his breath as he eased out onto each limb, his legs wobbling at first. “Had to be heights,” he grumbled through clenched teeth.

That sounded weird to me, coming from Jace. He didn’t strike me as the kind of guy to be afraid of anything. “You’re afraid of heights?”

He shot me a dirty look. “Shut up. Usually there’s a dragon between the ground and me.”

I snickered and looked away. I was trying my best to keep up with the rest of the warriors. Amidst the sea of vibrant jungle all around us, the brightly colored clothes the gray elves wore made more sense. They blended in with the wild colors of the foliage, and the silk was light enough that the humidity and heat didn’t make me feel stifled as we moved.

We passed through the trees, going from bough to bough like a bunch of squirrels until Araxie froze. She called the rest of us to a halt with a raised hand. Everyone stopped and immediately dropped into a low crouch against the limb where we stood. Jace and I did the same.

Far below, I saw the reason we’d all stopped.

There was a herd of creatures moving through the tall ferns. They were peaceful, I suppose, because no one drew on them. They seemed content to move slowly through the underbrush, nibbling on the green ends of fronds. We all just kept quiet and observed.

The creatures below looked like some species of elk or deer, although each of them was roughly the size of an eight hundred -pound bull. They were muscular, more so than a horse, and yet somehow graceful looking with their long legs and thick necks. Their pelts were a ghostly white color, mottled with gray stripes. The males had long white antlers sweeping back from their heads. I counted about ten sharp points on each horn.

As the herd moved on, Kiran shuffled closer to me. “Faundra,” he whispered. “They are very strong and swift, and can jump a great distance even with a rider. Once we could tame them. Now they are the most likely to turn on us. It is too dangerous to go near them.”

I watched the last of the faundra disappear into the jungle. I could imagine how much damage even one of those beasts could do if it were possessed by Paligno’s curse. A whole herd would be deadly. It gave me a new appreciation for them.

Once the herd had moved on, Araxie gave a whistle and we all got back to our feet. She led the way through the trees to a place where we could climb down and there was a wide, open area between the trunks. The undergrowth wasn’t so dense there, thanks to the thickness of the canopy that blotted out most of the sunlight.

We waited while she descended first and paced the clearing like a cautious doe. She was scanning for any potential threat, and she checked the ground thoroughly before she signaled up to the rest of us.

Climbing down was harder than going up—especially without a staircase. I wasn’t sure Jace was going to make it. The other warriors were trying to help him some, but it didn’t make much difference. He was cursing wildly until I heard a cracking sound, which I supposed was his boot breaking off a ledge of bark he’d been standing on.

He beat us all to the ground because he fell the last few feet.

When the rest of us got down to meet her, Araxie was already busy setting up targets. She squashed a few red berries between her fingers and painted circles on big leaves before hanging them on the tree trunks. I didn’t have to ask what those were for.

Araxie wasted no time getting down to business. She instructed us to get ready, so Jace and I took off our bows and quivers. Elven bows were different from the human ones I had dealt with before. The string was made of some kind of thick resin, and the draw was incredibly difficult. The bow itself was almost as tall as I was, and had been painted to blend in with the jungle.

I had a difficult time drawing back the string until Kiran came over to show me a trick. “You start facing down. Use the strength of your legs, stomach, and shoulders.” He demonstrated the motion for me as he explained, “Chest out. Shoulders back. Now, twist up as you draw.”

I nodded and tried it. He was right. Using my whole body to draw the arrow was much easier. However, once I had the string drawn, my arms started to tremble under the strain. I clumsily fired an arrow toward one of the targets, but it just sailed away into the jungle. I didn’t even hit the tree.

Kiran laughed. “A good try. Now, do it again.”

Lucky for me, Jace wasn’t doing any better. Some of the other warriors were trying to show him the same drawing technique Kiran had taught me. Unfortunately, Jace didn’t have the same advantage of size that I had. I was several inches taller than he was, and he didn’t have the benefit of a gray elf’s unnatural strength.

It took all morning for us to get a beginner’s grasp on gray elf archery. By noon, we were both able to at least draw and hit the target—albeit not in the center. When we stopped to rest, my arms had gone from aching to being entirely numb.

But I was determined. I had to get the hang of this.

It took hundreds of shots and several days before I was able to get anywhere near the center of the target. Once he figured out how to draw, Jace actually did better at it than I did. He was too stubborn to give up, and I had to give him credit for that.

The gray elf warriors teased him in their native language while he struggled to fire shot after shot. They taunted him when they thought he wasn’t looking. And still he never gave up. He clenched his teeth and narrowed his eyes. The muscles in his arms and shoulders went solid, and the veins in his neck stood out against his skin as he drew back each arrow.

He was the first to hit the bullseye.

After that, the warriors quit teasing him.

Araxie wasn’t so easily impressed, though. She paced back and forth between us while we practiced, barking out orders and corrections. When Jace made that shot, she walked right up to him and commanded him to draw another arrow. I stopped to watch.

He obeyed, and she immediately began tweaking his position with a scrutinizing glint in her eyes. “Arms like this. String always at your cheek.” She talked in a quiet, sharp voice as she moved his body into the proper form. “Feet apart. Don’t flinch when you fire. Take a breath as you draw. Hold it until you release. Keep your eyes open.”

Jace gave a slight nod and stood firm, holding his position and his breath until he fired again.

It was another bullseye.

“Good.” Araxie gave him a satisfied smile. “Now do it again.”

They were standing awfully close. Even I noticed it. She didn’t seem quite as disgusted by him now. Or at least, she was so preoccupied with our training that touching him apparently didn’t disgust her anymore. Either way, it made me grin to myself …

… mostly because I could have sworn Jace was blushing.

Every morning Araxie took us out into the jungle to train. And each time, I saw more of my mother’s homeland for the wild, beautiful, and dangerous place it truly was. Being immersed in it was sharpening my senses. It quickened a part of my soul that had been lying dormant my entire life.

My power was growing stronger by the day, although I was hesitant to show it to anyone. The villagers were already wary around me, and I wasn’t sure how Jace would respond if I showed him some of the new things I was capable of. It wasn’t just the plants and birds that responded to my will, now. Tapping into those memories was awakening new abilities almost daily.

Moreover, I could sense the spread of Paligno’s curse throughout the jungle. It was all around us, looming like an oppressive heat in my mind that made me nervous. I was beginning to question if simply putting a stone back into its resting place was going to fix all this. It seemed a little too easy.

That’s why I felt compelled to seek out Paligno’s counsel every night. I’d been trying it for almost a week. After Jace and everyone else went to sleep and the village was quiet, I found a place in the atrium of the temple where I could sit and meditate. I was hoping that the usually silent god would somehow give me a helpful hint about how I was going to fix all of this. But I never got any answers.

And then I got another reckless and potentially life threatening idea.

The temple compound was pitch black as I slipped out into the night. Everyone except for a few warriors who were watching the perimeter was sound asleep. Overhead, oil lamps burned in the huts strung about the tree trunks. They glowed with a warm orange light through the slats in woven grass blinds or on the swinging rope bridges. Frogs and insects sang an eerie melody in the foliage, and the ground was wet with dew.

I walked to the edge of the pit where I had seen Paligno for the first time—the pit that had haunted me in my nightmares. It looked even more daunting in the dead of night. I could see the staircase winding around the edge, carved into the earth and overgrown with moss and vines. It delved so deep into the dark I couldn’t see the bottom. The air rising up from inside the pit was bitter cold and it smelled of rich, moist earth.

I took a deep breath and started down the spiraling staircase. The deeper I went, the less I could see. It was like being swallowed by the earth. I had to keep a hand on the wall just to make sure I didn’t accidentally wander too far to the side and fall to my death somewhere far below.

Once I reached the bottom of the pit, I could barely see the opening overhead anymore. All around me was pitch black. I decided to try using some of my newfound power.

Pulling a large, walnut-sized seed from my belt, I cupped a hand to my lips and blew gently onto it. The seed began to glow brightly, piercing the dark with radiant green light. Holding it out before me, I got my first good look at the cavern.

Directly ahead was an opening leading farther into the gloom like a tunnel. It was tall and circular, and by the look of it, no one had come down here in a very long time. The walls and ceiling were nothing but hard-packed dirt. Roots from trees and plant life hung down like spider webs and brushed against me as I started forward. Looking down, I saw only one other set of footprints in the soft soil apart from my own. But even they appeared to be old because dust had settled into them so that they were nearly unnoticeable.

When the tunnel came to an end, it opened into a massive circular chamber. I willed the seed to glow brighter. It filled the open air with more and more light, revealing something I’d only heard rumors about: Paligno’s tomb.

The ceiling itself must have been forty or fifty feet high, but there was no manmade grandeur about this place. There were no gilded adornments, gifts, burning incense, or indications that this really was a tomb. All I saw was a single slab of white stone about four feet high standing in the very center of the chamber. On it were the skeletal remains of something that looked like an animal. The bones were clean and pale like alabaster. The sight of it made me suck in a sharp breath.

I walked toward the makeshift grave, wary of the bones that lay there. The way the skull seemed to be staring at me through its eyeless holes was unsettling. My pulse was pounding in my ears as I dared to go a few steps closer to it.

As I drew nearer, I could see more clearly what it was. Or at least, what it sort of looked like. The skull had sweeping, elegant white horns on it, exactly like the vision of Paligno I had seen when I received his blessing. Before it was a small, bowl-shaped indentation in the white stone. It was empty now, but instinct told me this was the place where the god stone had once rested.

I let my fingers brush over that empty space, wondering at the irony of finding myself standing here. Years ago, my father had stood in this very spot to steal the stone. Thinking about that filled me with bitterness and anger. How could he be so foolish? Had he really thought there wouldn’t be consequences for taking it?

“Do not judge him so harshly, dulcu,” my mother’s voice spoke to me.

I turned around to see her ghostly image flickering before me again. Her eyes were shining like stars and her robes and hair flowed around her as though they were blowing in the wind. But there was no wind down here.

I can’t explain why I wasn’t surprised to see her this time. Maybe part of me had been expecting to find her here, waiting for me where this had all begun. The sight of her was no less difficult for me, though. It still brought back all those distant childhood memories, and it made me miss her terribly.

“Is this really you?” I asked suspiciously. “Or are you Paligno wearing this form so you don’t frighten me?”

She smiled. “He didn’t frighten you before, did he?”

“Well, no. I suppose not.”

“Those who are chosen to be Lapiloque are bound to him eternally. Their spirits are joined with his in life and in death. As long as he endures within the stone, I too endure. Our spirits are marked by him, and so they are bound together. So it is for all who are chosen by him.” She moved closer to me, although I noticed her feet weren’t touching the ground. She reached out a hand to touch my cheek, but I didn’t feel anything more than a strange cold chill on my skin. “And so it will be for you, too, dulcu.”

I tried not to let the sad expression on her face distract me from the reason I had come here. I needed help. I needed answers. And as far as I knew, this was the only place left where I might find them. “I understand what I have to do. I have to reclaim the god stone and bring it here to restore the balance and appease Paligno’s curse.”

Her hand fell away from me and she closed her eyes. “Yes.”

“And that means I will probably have to kill Hovrid,” I continued. “And I’m guessing he won’t give it up without a fight.”

My mother’s expression became tragic. She lowered her chin, looking away as though she were ashamed. “No. He certainly won’t. He is not unlike your father, who was a much different person when he stood where you are now. Ulric’s desires were not selfish when he took the stone. He wanted only to protect those he loved. The man he became afterward was the result of his sin. As you know, touching the god stone is dangerous for one without Paligno’s blessing. The single brush of a finger can drive a person into madness. Even now your father’s mind is still being poisoned by that contact. Hovrid is no different. His obsession cannot be quenched until he feels he possesses it entirely, both physically and spiritually. He won’t stop. He won’t be reasoned with.”

“I want to know what happened. I want to know why you left Luntharda, what kind of secret dealings you had with Sile Derrick, and why—” I hesitated on the most difficult question I’d ever asked anyone. “—why you decided to have a halfbreed child with Ulric.”

“Only the blood of the traitor and the hands of the speaker can restore the balance. That is the law set forth by Paligno when life was first seeded upon this world. None can overrule it. I knew this the moment the stone was first taken. Only the blood of the traitor, the one who had taken it, could absolve that sin. And only the hands of Lapiloque could touch the stone in order to put it back without being driven insane by it.” Her words rang clear and firm in the darkness of the chamber. “I left because there was no other choice. It was by the blessing of fate alone that Sile Derrick came to plead for Ulric’s sin. I could sense the goodness in his soul. I knew he could be trusted. And I knew I would need his help in order to set things right. I’m sure by now you realize that there is nothing Lapiloque can do to heal those afflicted by Paligno’s curse. They are beyond our reach. So in order to stop it from spreading, I had to leave. I had to find Ulric. I needed his blood, and Sile helped me claim it.”

It was a lot to take in. The more she explained, the more I began to feel the storm of confusion finally calming in my mind. Years of what I had thought to be random luck suddenly didn’t seem quite so random anymore. At last, I could breathe easier. I could shake off the feelings of uncertainty and frustration that clouded my thoughts.

“I intended to take you and the stone back to Luntharda to restore the balance. After all, you have your father’s blood. But when you were born with Paligno’s blessing, I realized that the simple plan I had concocted was not what destiny had in store for you. You were meant to be more than I had ever dreamed.” My mother smiled again with that parental adoration shining in her ghostly eyes. “I knew my work as Lapiloque was complete. You were the one born to bring peace and balance. You had to survive. So I sought out the help of the only human I knew I could trust to watch over you and guide you until it was time for you to know these things. Sile agreed wholeheartedly. He agreed that he would watch over you from a distance, and then when the time was right, he would prepare you for that moment when your destiny would be realized.”

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this? Why didn’t you tell me what I was?” I pressed.

Her smile faded a bit. “Because Hovrid knows there is only one threat to his plan to claim the stone’s power for himself. And that threat is you, dulcu. The one chosen to speak for the stone is the only one who could possibly take it from him and end this war once and for all. It was safest for you to know nothing so that his attention would never be drawn to you before you were old enough to stand against him.”

I stood in silence for a little while, thinking it all over. My questions were answered. I had everything I needed now—except for one last thing. “When you say that my blood will atone for that traitorous sin, what exactly do you mean? Am I going to die?”

My mother’s expression was unreadable. “I cannot speak for what Paligno will require of you.”

That wasn’t comforting at all.

I guess she could tell that her answer had made me uneasy, because she reached out to comb her fingers through my short, hacked up hair. Once again, I couldn’t truly feel her touch. To me, it only felt like a cold puff of wind.

“If you trust nothing else, trust that Paligno chose you deliberately for this task. You are capable just as you are to do what is necessary. Do not fear what you can do, for these gifts were given specifically to you for a purpose. And when the time comes, dulcu, you will be able to face this destiny without regret.” She smiled affectionately and planted a kiss against my forehead. It made my skin prickle. “I love you, my son. I am so very proud of the man you have become.”

Words failed me as I watched her image begin to fade. In a matter of seconds, I was left standing alone again, with nothing but the bones of a dead god to comfort me. I looked back at the skull, fearing it less than before now.

“I will do this. I will end this war and take back what was lost. But in return I want some assurance,” I said to it. I wasn’t sure if Paligno was listening, or if I even had the right to start making demands. Probably not. But he could smite me for my insolence if he wanted to—I was still going to ask. “Enough blood has been spilt. I want your assurance that the lives of my friends, of the people I love, will be spared. Will you grant me that?”

Of course, I got no answer.

“Araxie will lead you on the safest path back to the boundary of your kingdom.” King Erandur gestured to the map of Luntharda that was embroidered onto a large silk tapestry. He’d spread it out on the floor so that Jace and I could get a better look while we put together our plans.

Until then, I hadn’t realized how many cities the gray elves actually had in this jungle. It just seemed so wild and untamed when we went exploring every morning. The jungle itself was vast, and there were no clear-cut roads or paths anywhere—well, unless you were as good at finding your way through the trees as Araxie was. But scattered across the map, marked by different symbols, were the positions of a dozen or more large cities throughout the vast woodland.

We were sitting in the makeshift royal wing of the temple where Erandur and Araxie lived. They had made it as nice as possible, furnishing it in the gray elf style with furs and colorful woven rugs on the floor. We were leaning against silk, feather-stuffed cushions as we studied the map by the light of oil lamps.

“Where will you go once you are back in your own territory?” the king asked.

“Not directly to Halfax.” I glanced sideways at Jace to make sure he was listening. “We’re going to need some help, and I know where to get it. We’ll make for Barrowton. My dragon tells me the city is all but abandoned now, and I can reunite with him there. Then we will head straight for Mithangol to regroup and finalize our plan. During that time, you’ll need to muster what forces you can and prepare for our return. It’ll be a quick turnaround. Do you think you can manage it?”

The king nodded. He seemed confident, if not a little anxious about this whole idea. Granted, he wasn’t used to my level of crazy when it came to wild rescues.

Jace sat beside me, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. We’d been here close to three months now, and he had definitely taken on a different attitude about the gray elves—especially when it came to Araxie. Of course, I could tell he was trying not to show it, but I caught him looking at her often. When he did, his usually fierce wolf-like gaze softened and there was something almost desperate in his eyes.

Unfortunately for him, she didn’t appear to be on the same page. Or if she was, she was a lot better at hiding it. Her comments to him were still derisive and sarcastic for the most part. She still looked at him coldly, even if she did act a slightly more tolerant of his presence. I still hadn’t heard her say his name once, though.

I didn’t really blame her. He had killed three of her family members, after all. A few months of training and sizing each other up didn’t even come close to making up for that. But I still couldn’t ignore the change in Jace. He’d begun wearing gray elf clothes rather than his Maldobarian ones. He was hungry to learn their ways and had even started trying to speak their language fairly well—almost as well as I could.

“It will take three days to reach the boundary nearest to Barrowton,” Araxie said grimly. “It would be much faster to climb to the top of the canopy and hail your dragon from there to pick you up.”

I shook my head. “I can’t risk being seen. Mavrik tells me the dragonriders at Northwatch are running frequent patrols along the border. I’m sure by now most everyone thinks Jace and I are dead, so they must be anticipating a retaliation attack. We need to use that to our advantage, keep their eye focused here, so we can keep a low profile and do our work within Maldobar. At least if we make it to Barrowton, we can fly along the mountains and stay hidden.”

“We can’t spare any warriors to help escort us. It will have to be the three of us.” She frowned harder at the map. “All the other forces will have to rally here and prepare for your return.”

“Four, if you’ll permit,” Kiran spoke suddenly. He was standing in the doorway watching us with a determined look on his face.

Erandur was grinning like he found the warrior’s courage amusing. “You’re awfully young to be asking for such a thing. Have you even taken a mate yet?”

Kiran stiffened and I saw him clench his teeth slightly. “No. But I have already been to the human lands once. I know the way.”

“I suppose if you are volunteering, I see no reason why you shouldn’t be allowed to go. But I will let Araxie have final say,” the king said as he glanced at his daughter.

She never looked up from the map. “If that’s what he wants.”

“It is.” Kiran sounded more determined than ever.

“Then I’ll permit it, so long as you don’t slow us down.”

We went back to plotting our course out of the jungle. It was going to be a hard trek. We would have to pass through a grove of the greevwood trees and the ruins of the elves’ royal city. Neither were places Araxie seemed thrilled about going, but she advised that this would be the safest course.

“How did you make it here so quickly before? When you first captured us?” Jace piped up as we all took one last look at the map.

The princess scoffed at his question like it was a dumb thing to ask. “How fast do you think we got here?”

“It didn’t feel like three days,” he countered.

She rolled her eyes at him. “It was two. We are able to move faster when there are more warriors to guard the formation. We carried you in shifts. But human legs are slower and more easily fatigued.”

“Why don’t we use shrikes?” I was getting curious now.

“It is too dangerous. Paligno’s curse has spread further here than in your kingdom. Many of our mounts have already been infected, that’s why we cannot allow them to dwell among us in the village anymore. In battle it is less of a concern.” She hesitated and gave a sudden, bitter glance in Jace’s direction. “We all assume we are going to our deaths, anyway.”

Erandur began folding up the tapestry, sliding it to the side as if to end the subject there. I was grateful for that. “You should leave first thing in the morning,” he suggested. “I will have supplies readied for you.”

“When I have the stone and begin heading your way, I will send word. Even if Hovrid is dead, it’s likely some of the men who are still loyal to his guise as the King of Maldobar will be chasing us.” I reached out a hand across the space between us to shake his.

He grasped it firmly and smiled. “We will be waiting for you at the boundary, Lapiloque. Araxie and I will rally as many to our cause as possible.”

A strange silence settled over us as we sat together, feeling the weight of what was about to transpire. Erandur seemed to be the most optimistic out of all of us. Araxie, Jace, and Kiran all wore similar expressions of focused concern.

I was worried, too. I didn’t know what would be waiting for us when we returned to Maldobar. I didn’t know if Felix, Beckah, or my brother were still alive. I didn’t know if my plan would work, or what would happen if it were discovered that Jace and I were trying to slip back into the kingdom. We might very well be arrested as traitors—and rightfully so. We were about to commit the greatest act of treason possible against our so-called king.

After an uncomfortably quiet dinner, Jace and I got up to return to our room. As usual, there were more gifts piled outside our doorway. I had to rake a path clear so we could get inside.

“How does it feel to be a demigod?” There was a flavor of sarcasm to Jace’s question.

“I’m not sure,” I fired back. “How does it feel to be in love with the enemy?”

That shut him up.

He gave me a dirty look but didn’t say another word as we both settled in for the night. I guess I hit the nail on the head more squarely than I’d anticipated. It was a cheap shot to take, which made me feel a little guilty as I stretched out on my pallet and stared up at the ceiling.

I let my mind go quiet, sifting through the whispering voices in my brain that had become commonplace to me now. I looked for the one that was most familiar—the one I had pushed far away until now. Before, I hadn’t been ready to reunite with him, but things were different now. And it was time to get my partner up to speed.

Mavrik’s consciousness leapt out to greet me with excited swirls of color. I could feel him trolling through my memories, investigating me thoroughly like a dog sniffing over its master. I didn’t hide anything from him. When he was satisfied, I started relaying our plan to him. I asked him to meet me in Barrowton.

He reminded me of what I had wanted to forget. Barrowton was nothing but ash and cinders now. It was abandoned, which suited my plan but simultaneously filled me with sorrow and anger. More lives had been lost, swallowed up by the blazing forge of Hovrid’s war. He was trying to drive his own species into extinction … and he was succeeding.

At daybreak Jace and I were both standing on the front steps of the temple, waiting for Araxie and Kiran to emerge. The jungle was filled with the peaceful sounds of early morning. Birds sang high in the trees. The air was cool but comfortable, rich with the smell of plant life. I breathed it in deeply, realizing how much I was going to miss that smell.

I’d given up my comfortable gray elven robes for my dragonrider’s uniform and armor again. My scimitar was buckled to my hip, and my helmet and cloak were packed away into a bag I wore slung over my shoulder. I’d stocked it full of rations and a few useful tools I had found amidst the piles of offerings the villagers left me every day. I couldn’t take everything they’d given me, obviously, but the greevwood dagger was stuck down in the side of my boot, hidden and ready if I needed it. My mother’s pendant hung proudly around my neck. I wasn’t going to hide it under my clothes anymore.

Jace hadn’t been able to put on all of his old dragonrider clothes. They had been ripped and damaged during his fall, so he wore a hybrid of Maldobarian and gray elf attire that looked strange. His pants were more or less intact, but they were spattered with blood. So were his uniform boots, kidney belt, and cross-styled sheath for his swords. His tunic had been essentially destroyed, so he wore a dark green elven one in its place. The rest of his gear and armor were packed away in a bag like the one I was carrying.

He was shifting his weight anxiously from one foot to another while we waited in silence. I couldn’t tell if he was still annoyed with me for calling him on the obvious crush he had on my cousin or not. No guy likes having that kind of thing shoved in their face—especially when the girl in question hates your guts.

Kiran was the first to join us. He came out of the trees dressed in his warrior’s attire and carrying a spear, bow, and quiver. His long white hair was tied back in a long braid, and there were two red lines of war paint smeared down his cheeks.

“You really think your plan will work, caenu?” He gave me a teasing grin as he came to stand next to me.

“That depends, brevad.” I smirked back. I knew he was just calling me that to get on my nerves, so I’d taken to calling him the gray elven word for “short” just to even things up a little.

Kiran’s little taunting smile quickly turned into a scowl. He did not like his new pet name. “Depends on what?”

“On whether or not we make it to the border in one piece.” I laughed and gave him a rough pat on the shoulder, which only made him scowl harder.

“I take it you are all ready to go?” a female voice called out in a chastising tone.

All three of us turned around to see Araxie striding out of the temple. As usual, her clothes were exotic, revealing, and undeniably beautiful. It had to be painful for someone in Jace’s position to look at. Her baggy sirwal pants rode low on her hips and her midriff was bare thanks to the short, tight-fitted top she wore. She was carrying her own set of weapons, scimitars with a bow and quiver, and her shimmering hair was left to flow loosely all the way to the base of her back. She had purple and green war paint on her skin as well, outlining the curves of her muscular frame with ornate, swirling symbols. She also wore a small headdress with two short, white horns on them. That, I assumed, was to mark her as royalty. No one else wore white horns like that.

I noticed Jace’s eyes following her as she walked right through our midst and began leading the way into the forest. He didn’t say a word, but his mouth was hanging open like there was something he might have wanted to say.

Then he caught me staring at him.

I grinned knowingly. I just couldn’t help myself.

Jace’s face turned a disturbing shade of red and he let out a string of curses as he stormed away to follow her. Kiran and I casually followed, too. As bad as I felt about giving him a hard time, now I could better appreciate why Felix enjoyed teasing me about every girl he thought I liked. It was fun. And honestly, I was just glad I wasn’t the victim of the teasing for once.

We crossed over the boundary of the temple grounds and into the wild heart of Luntharda again. We didn’t usually go in this direction whenever Araxie led us on her educational sprints through the trees, so this was unchartered territory for me. We moved quickly and quietly, the way she had taught us, making as little a disturbance as possible as we slipped through the trees. I doubted I looked as graceful as Araxie and Kiran did while lightly stepping from one large tree branch to another. For them, it looked natural.

As I leapt from branch to branch, rolling and ducking while keeping up the rigorous pace, I felt more confident than I had when we’d started our training. I didn’t look at the ground. I wasn’t afraid of falling or tripping. I was focused on what lay ahead, on the next obstacle, and on keeping as quiet as possible.

Jace had improved some, as well, though he still muttered curses whenever we got a good glimpse of how far we were off the forest floor.

We moved fast. Araxie had led us ten miles away from the village before she allowed for a break. We all took a seat on an especially large limb and passed our water skins around so everyone got a few gulps. Far below, the jungle was calm. I couldn’t detect any glaring threats from Paligno’s curse for miles in any direction. So far, we hadn’t seen anything beyond a few herds of faundra, brightly colored birds, and a snake or two.

When we started up again, Araxie let our pace slack off a bit. We took our time, moving more carefully. I could tell she was growing more and more tense as night drew in. I wasn’t sure why until I finally glimpsed the haunting dark shapes of what appeared to be buildings through the trees. We had arrived at the gray elves’ royal city.

Or at least, what was left of it.

Just as with the fort compound during the battle scenario, the jungle had all but reclaimed the area. Paligno’s curse made the plants go wild. They were eating away at every trace of civilization, smothering buildings and covering the ground. From where we stood, high in the boughs of the giant trees, I could see the ruins of the city stretched out for miles.

The buildings were squared, made mostly from carved rock. Through the gloom of the evening, I could see a few sparkling remains of gleaming mosaics in the city squares and the sparkling of gold set into the domed roofs of temples. This place had once been grand and beautiful—an ancient civilization blossoming with power and luxury.

But now it was overgrown and eerily quiet. Roots had invaded the foundations of most of the buildings, cracking them in half like eggshells. There were no lights to be seen anywhere, and not a single soul in sight.

The expression on Araxie’s face was tragic. Her shimmering, multicolored eyes panned the horizon slowly. It was as though she were trying to keep her emotions contained—as though she didn’t want anyone to see how this place made her feel. I could imagine she had a lot of memories tied up in this place. It had been her home, once. And now it was more or less a mass grave for those who hadn’t been able to flee the city in time.

There were old bones in the streets. I didn’t notice them at first because many of them were covered with plant life. But I realized it after I accidentally stepped on a rib bone and crushed it. I was more careful then.

Darkness was falling when we came to the front steps of what must have been the royal palace. Sweeping stone steps led up to a broad open passage lined with massive, pear-shaped alabaster columns. Each one had been painted with flowers and creatures from the jungle—although that paint had now almost entirely been chipped away. I noticed the bases were plated in gold, though, and the floors were adorned with huge, magnificent mosaics made from chips of colorful rock and precious stones.

“What is this place?” Jace asked in a quiet voice.

Araxie’s reply was just as soft. She was walking close to one of those large columns, letting her fingers brush against it as she passed. “It was … my home.”

Jace studied her up and down, as though he wasn’t sure what to make of that answer. Or maybe he just wasn’t used to her talking to him without her tone dripping with disdain. “What happened?”

“It began here just as it did in your own kingdom. The animals, livestock, and birds all turned on us. We thought we could manage. We thought we could survive and defend our city. But it was a foolish hope. In the end, we had no choice but to leave. So many died, and we could not even return to bury them. Paligno’s curse spares no one. Its wrath will burn eternally if the stone is not restored.”

I put a hand on her shoulder, coaxing her to look at me. When she did, I could see the moisture of tears making her eyes seem glossy. She quickly turned her gaze away.

“Will we be safe here for the night?” Kiran sounded doubtful.

Araxie let out an uneasy sigh. “We should be, yes. So long as we are quiet and we do not make our presence obvious. Come, I know a place where we can build a fire.”

She led us deeper into the palace, our footsteps echoing off the high stone walls and vaulted ceilings. There were large bronze braziers lying knocked over on the floor. Empty porcelain vases as tall as I was were overflowing with the plants that had been put in them. The mosaics on the floors had been mostly covered by moss, and shallow reflecting pools contained nothing but still, algae-filled waters. Much of the palace was still fairly well preserved, if only because it was cut off from the natural light needed for the plants to invade. But there was still evidence everywhere of the struggle—weapons on the floor. Arrows and spears mingled with the bones of animals left to rot where they’d fallen.

It became too dark to see much of where we were going. That didn’t stop Araxie, though. She seemed to remember her way around this place as though she’d never left it. When we came to a hallway lined with old tapestries, some of them having rotted off their hanging rods and fallen into heaps on the floor. She stopped. At the end of the corridor were a pair of double doors. One was cracked open slightly.

“My old chambers,” she whispered as she pointed.

Beyond was a set of lavish chambers that looked nearly untouched by the jungle’s creeping grasp. It had been well sealed off. All other passages leading in and out were barred with metal beams. The windows had also been closed off. Nothing could come or go except through those double doors. Perhaps that was why the room looked as though it had only been abandoned months ago, rather than years.

Araxie went into her quarters and we followed her without hesitation. Inside, the air held a musky, stagnant odor like stale perfumes. There were plush, soft rugs stretched out along the floor, and intricately carved low couches all positioned around a shallow marble fire pit. Cushions were strewn everywhere, and it was obvious that in their final days living in this city, this was the only room the princess had been able to inhabit. Everything was covered with years’ worth of dust. Our presence had stirred some of it off the floor, making Kiran cough and sneeze as he slipped around to investigate.

Araxie’s dejected expression kept us all from saying or touching anything. It felt wrong. This stuff was hers, even if it had been abandoned when she and her family had fled the city.

She picked up a gold-plated hand mirror and dusted it off, briefly glancing at her reflection before putting it back down. “Bring in anything you think we can burn. Then we’ll bar the doors for the night. We should be safe here. My attendants and myself managed to take refuge here for two weeks before we fled. It’s well barricaded.”

Once we were settled in, sitting around the small fire we had built, a strange silence settled over us. Jace was just staring at the flames with his brow furrowed. Kiran was doing the same, but while spinning a dagger through his fingers over and over. I was sitting between them, nibbling on the last of my day’s rations.

Araxie was the only one who had seemed interested at all in sleeping. She unfurled a small sleeping pallet from her pack to curl up on, pulled down one of the old blankets that was left draped over a sofa, and turned her back to us.

“Someone should keep watch,” Jace murmured suddenly.

I agreed. “I’ll take the first one.”

No one argued me for it.

Kiran stretched out on one of the sofas and was asleep in minutes. Jace, on the other hand, sat up a while longer still gazing at the fire. I wondered what he was thinking so hard about. It was obvious that something was bothering him, or whom he might be thinking about. At last, he let out a heavy, defeated sigh. He laid back on one of the plush wool rugs, using his travel pack as a pillow. I knew he was asleep when he started to snore and wheeze.

Hours passed like centuries. I kept the fire burning low, adding a few chips of wood from a smashed up chair every now and then. The embers glowed and filled the room with a warm orange light.

When everything was quiet, I heard Araxie begin to stir. She rolled over, facing both the fire and me. It didn’t look like she’d slept at all. She had a thoughtful frown on her face similar to the one Jace had been wearing earlier.

“Something bothering you?” I asked.

Her eyes shimmered strangely in the light of the fire, changing colors to match the movement of the flames. “There’s somewhere I want to go,” she answered quietly. “But I’m terrified to go there.”

“Why?”

“Because I was just a child the last time I went.” She looked at me squarely. “And I’m not sure if I would be welcomed back.”

I thought about that for a moment. “Is it close by?”

Araxie nodded.

“Then let’s go.” I stood up and dusted off the back of my pants.

Her eyes went wide and she sat up. “N-now? But what about them?”

I glanced at Kiran and Jace. They were both sound asleep and showing no signs of stirring anytime soon. “They’ll be fine. It’s close by, right? We’ll make it fast. They won’t even know we’re gone.”

She didn’t act quite as eager to get up and join me. More than once she flicked an uneasy, calculating glance between the rest of our group and me, as though she were still trying to make up her mind.

“If you don’t go, will you regret it later?” I asked again.

“Yes,” she answered in a faint voice. That was all the motivation she needed, apparently. She stood up and walked past me, her bare feet not making a sound on the marble floor as she brought me to a place in the corner of the room where one of the wooden panels on the walls could be pushed away to reveal a hidden door in the wall. It led into a small tunnel—so small that I barely fit. Fortunately, it was only a few feet long.

She opened another hidden door that emptied into a dark, disheveled library. The walls were covered in grid-like cubbies that were stuffed full of scrolls from floor to ceiling. Many of them had been torn from their resting places and scattered all about the floor. They were yellowed and curled with age and exposure to the moist air. I picked one up only to realize it was written in a language I couldn’t understand. It certainly wasn’t the human or gray elf language.

Araxie must have noticed my puzzlement. “We stored many texts here, records of times past from kingdoms long forgotten. Chronicles of an ancient past.”

I let the scroll slip from my fingers. It fell back to its resting place on the floor at my feet. “Seems a waste to abandon them here.”

“Perhaps one day we can return and restore them.” Her words were hopeful, but her tone betrayed how she really felt. She didn’t have much faith in our plan. Or at least, she didn’t believe she would ever get to live here again.

We continued on through the palace, slipping as quickly and quietly as possible through abandoned halls and ransacked chambers until at last we came to a grand but strangely cold staircase. It led downward into a darker part of the palace where the faint light of the moon could not reach. I hesitated to go down it because that dreary, ominous descent reminded me a lot of Paligno’s tomb.

Araxie didn’t seem too concerned with it though. She went on ahead and left me no choice but to follow. When the darkness became so thick that we couldn’t see anymore, I pulled another large seed from my belt and willed it to light the way. As soon as the air filled with its radiant green glow, I caught a glimpse of her face. She was staring at me with a mixture of awe and fear.

I just smiled at her. “Turns out those voices in my head are good for a few things.”

“So you really can hear them? The memories of your ancestors?” She stared at the glowing seed curiously. “My father told me that the Lapiloque can recall all the powers and memories of his past manifestations. Because you are joined with Paligno, you are also connected with those who came before you.”

I could tell she wanted to ask something—something I suppose she was afraid would offend me. It wasn’t hard to follow her logic. So I asked it for her. “Can I hear my mother’s memories?”

Her expression became timid.

“Yes,” I answered her with a smile. “But it isn’t just the memories of Paligno’s chosen ones. Sometimes, he lets me glimpse his memories, too. I think that’s how I was shown what Hovrid had done to the real King of Maldobar.”

Araxie took a step back, looking away as though speaking about this made her somehow uncomfortable. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. Perhaps Paligno is vesting more power and energy in you than the others.”

I understood why she was reluctant. Hope was a dangerous thing. And if she placed too much hope and faith in me, then by failing … I would be confirming that she had nothing else to hope for at all. If the chosen servant of a god couldn’t help them, no one could.

Neither of us spoke again as she continued walking, eventually bringing us to an arched stone doorway. It was beautifully engraved to resemble an arbor with the shapes of two women standing amidst the flowers. Beyond the doorway, I saw at last where we had come.

It was indeed another tomb. But this one wasn’t for a god.

Placed on a raised stone platform was a sarcophagus that appeared to be engraved from solid alabaster and adorned in golden details. On the top was the beautiful effigy of a woman lying on her back with her flowing hair spilling over the sides of the engraved structure. The statue had been made so that it looked like she was lying on a bed of ivy, and though her eyes were closed, her expression was peaceful and content.

Araxie stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the sarcophagus. Her expression tightened, and for a few seconds, she looked a lot like a frightened child. Her eyes were big and vulnerable and her brow was drawn up like she might start to cry.

I went past her to get a better look at the tomb and the statue of the woman carved into it. She was obviously a gray elf. Her ears were long and elegantly pointed. There was also a crown of flowers on her head. Her slender arms were crossed over her chest, and I could see that whoever had made this had paid special attention to every detail. They had even taken the time to paint golden details onto the flowers.

“Your mother?” I guessed as I glanced back at Araxie.

She didn’t have to answer out loud. I could tell just by the way her expression fell to anguish that I was right. Slowly and cautiously, she began to make her way closer to where I stood. Her eyes, however, never left the sarcophagus.

“Why did you think you wouldn’t be welcomed here?”

Araxie’s lips scrunched up like she was biting back emotion. “Because I am not the woman she was. This war has required me to become something she never would have approved of.”

“And what is that?”

“Cold,” she replied.

I felt her grasp the sleeve of my tunic as though she needed comfort, so I put an arm around her and drew her closer to my side. She laid her head against my shoulder.

“I was under the impression gray elf women could be warriors if they chose to be.”

“Yes,” she said. “But I am a princess. There are different expectations. Or at least, there were. When my brothers were killed, their responsibilities were passed to me. I am expected now to exemplify my people’s bravery. I can’t falter. I can’t show any weakness. I must be the knife’s edge of my father’s army.”

We stood in silence, showing a few minutes of quiet reflection and respect for the dead queen before either of us dared to speak again. I was thinking about her brothers, which inevitably brought Jace to mind. He’d been the one to kill all three of them in battle. Likely they hadn’t had a burial at all, let alone one like this.

“You know, I think Jace feels pretty bad about what happened with your brothers. I mean, now that he’s been here amongst your people, it does seem like he’s changed a lot.”

Araxie stared up at me like I’d suddenly grown a third eyeball.

“All I’m saying is that I’ve noticed he’s acting differently,” I amended quickly. “And to me, as an onlooker, I can tell he admires you.”

She snorted disbelievingly. “Probably because he’s not used to having his rear end handed back to him by a woman.”

I couldn’t exactly refute that. Jace was an extremely good fighter. He probably hadn’t lost many fights before meeting her.

“Do you think I should forgive him?”

Her question caught me completely off guard and it took a few seconds for me to mull that over. Forgiving someone for murdering your siblings was a tall order for anyone. I couldn’t imagine the grief she’d endured. And for her, losing them had changed the course of her entire life. It had left her with only her father to support her and it had also dumped a lot of responsibility squarely upon her shoulders.

“I think everyone deserves a second chance,” I decided at last. “Especially if they are willing to change. But I don’t think that kind of forgiveness can happen instantaneously. It takes time. You also have to look at intent. Until recently, you were enemies at war. The rules of war suspend normality. Under any other circumstances, I doubt he would have gone out of his way to hurt them—just as I’m sure you wouldn’t have hurt anyone if you were still just a princess and not also a warrior.”

She was studying me carefully, as though trying to assess if I had some ulterior motive. Finally, she turned her gaze back to her mother’s grave. “I suppose I hadn’t considered it that way.”

“I have a human half-brother, too. And I don’t know for sure, but there is a good chance he died in the battle for Barrowton. A gray elf more than likely killed him. Should I blame the warrior for doing that? Should I hate him for it? Every soldier that falls, elf or human, is someone’s father, brother, son, or husband. If we can’t forgive those deaths, then peace means nothing and Hovrid has already won.”

There was a tug in the back of my mind as we turned to leave the burial chamber. It made me pause. I listened to the whispers of those memories for a moment, and then decided to leave behind a token for the late Queen of Luntharda. It only seemed right for me to offer something to honor her memory. The queen had been my aunt, after all.

The power was new to me, something I hadn’t tried. I had manipulated life, things preexisting. But I’d never created anything before. With gentleness in my thoughts, I bade the ground open up just enough for two living rose vines to emerge and cover her effigy. The blossoms were each as big as a man’s hand and pure white. I had to take special care in crafting them, since there was no sunlight this far underground. But these wouldn’t require any, and their blossoms would never wither or fade. They would be as eternal as her memory.

Araxie appeared to be in much better spirits as we retraced our steps back to her chambers. She had a calm smile on her face and a more confident spring in her step. That blissful expression reminded me somewhat of my own mother. It made me miss her fiercely.

We had almost made it back to the library. The night sounds of the jungle still echoed through the cavernous stone halls of the palace. Without being able to see what might be lurking behind the next corner, I kept my senses on alert for anything that might be a threat.

But something else reached out and grabbed at my brain, instead. I stopped and stood perfectly still so I could be sure.

When Araxie went to walk on ahead of me, I reflexively grabbed her arm to stop her. She looked at me with a puzzled grin, at first. Maybe she thought I was playing around. My expression must have tipped her off that this wasn’t a game because her smile faded and her eyes grew wide.

I only had seconds. I dragged her behind me and planted myself between her … and him.

I spotted his silver eyes gleaming through the darkness. He was coming toward us slowly. Each of his paws was big enough to crush my skull without even trying. He moved toward us like a phantom, a soundless vapor with dripping fangs and curled talons as long as my finger.

He emerged from the library where I could only assume he had first picked up our scent. When Araxie saw him, she sucked in a sharp breath and grasped onto my shoulder. The intensity of her grip betrayed her fear.

The beast before me was different, however. I could sense his curiosity even from a distance, but I detected no fear. He was a predator, one of many in Luntharda, but he was a very clever one—even for a feline. At roughly six feet to the head, he could have easily ripped us both apart while we floundered around in the dark, trying to get away from him.

It was my presence that stopped him.

He wasn’t possessed by Paligno’s curse. He recognized me for who I was. I, on the other hand, didn’t know what he was exactly. If anything, he favored some species of tiger. He was sleek and powerful, with a long body and small, rounded ears.

When he stepped into the soft green light of my seed-spell, I could better appreciate his size. Dense muscles rolled in his shoulders. His fur was an exotic shade of smoky blue and it was adorned with black stripes and swirling patterns. There was a ridge of longer, spiky black hair that ran from his neck all the way to the end of his tail. His snout was longer and more tapered than a normal cat’s and I could see his black nose twitching as he smelled us.

“No!” Araxie hissed in warning as I started to move away from her.

I handed her the glowing seed and tried my best to reassure her with a smile. “Don’t you trust the Lapiloque?”

She recoiled. But when I started to move away again, she didn’t stop me. Instead, she kept her eyes focused squarely on me.

The enormous cat was nearly able to look at me eye-to-eye as I approached him. I was only a few inches taller than he was, after all. I reached out with my thoughts, not with humility as I always had before. It wasn’t my place to be humble anymore. I knew what I was now. Predator or not, king or not—I had authority here.

Paligno had given me that authority.

I asked him to acknowledge me, to show his respect for Lapiloque, the one who spoke for Paligno’s spirit.

His rounded ears perked and his wild silver eyes searched mine. He opened his maw to gape at my scent when I extended my hand. I could sense his strength just as clearly as I could sense how intelligent he was. He was mulling it over, sizing me up and trying to decide what to make of me. Araxie had said that the curse took the minds of dumber creatures first, that must have been why he was able to resist it. He had a proud soul, but a good and wise one.

I heard Araxie gasp when he closed his eyes and bowed his head, pressing his cheek against my hand. It was a gesture of affection. I smiled and let my fingers roam over his silky blue fur. I even gave him a good scratch behind the ears, just for good measure. That had always worked with Mavrik.

He made a deep, purring sound.

“I’m going to have to ask that you don’t eat any my companions,” I told him.

The cat made an annoyed grumbling sound in his throat. His bright eyes drifted toward Araxie. He licked his lips.

“Especially not her.” I laughed and gave his neck another scratch before returning to where the princess of the gray elves was still paralyzed with fear.

“He’ll be nice,” I assured her.

“H-how …?” she started to ask, but she must have thought better of it. After all, she’d probably seen my mother do similar things years ago.

We started back into the library and slipped quietly through her secret passage into her private chambers. The cat followed us and stood watching curiously as we disappeared through the hidden door in the wall. Thankfully, Kiran and Jace were still sleeping soundly right where we’d left them.

I let out a sigh of relief and tossed a few more pieces of wood onto our small campfire. Then I went over to wake Jace up for his shift at keeping watch. I decided not to mention the enormous jungle cat that was still lurking just on the other side of the wall. I could sense him there. He was waiting for us to come back.

Jace didn’t need to know that. He didn’t strike me as a cat person, so it probably would have just freaked him out.

By the time the sun had risen, we were already packed up and ready to move again. There was no time to waste. The sooner we made it to the border of Luntharda and Maldobar, the better.

We pushed open the doors of Araxie’s private chambers. Suddenly, Kiran let out a snarling battle cry. In the blink of an eye, he leapt forward with his bow in hand, ready to fire. Jace acted quickly, too. He drew his blades and immediately stepped defensively in front of Araxie.

Our blue-toned cat friend just looked baffled at first. But the sight of weapons put him on edge. He snarled, bearing his impressive teeth and bristling the black mane of hair that ran down his back. He snapped at Jace, although it was basically just a warning.

If he’d wanted to hurt us, he certainly could have.

“All right, everyone just calm down. He’s not going to hurt us.”

“That is a tigrex!” Kiran protested.

“And he is Lapiloque,” Araxie retorted. “Or have you forgotten? All creatures of nature must bow to him.”

Kiran shot her an exasperated look, but managed to keep his mouth shut.

I approached the cat and pressed my hand against his side, urging him to be calm. He obeyed, although he was still growling and eyeing Jace hungrily. It took me a few minutes to finally talk him into trusting us.

I was worried it might take me longer to convince Jace of the same. And petting him probably wouldn’t help, either. But after a few minutes of sizing one another up from a distance as we walked out of the palace, Jace actually took to it better than I thought he would.

The giant striped cat followed us, sometimes falling behind to sniff the air and twitch the end of his tail. His eyes were always moving, always watching. He was on guard, and I was glad to see it. I wasn’t about to complain about having another set of keen senses patrolling our surroundings for potential threats.

“Still full of surprises, I see,” Jace muttered with a strange smirk on his lips. He reached over and ruffled my hair.

I smirked. “You have no idea.”

He really didn’t. None of them did. The whispers in my mind, rippling echoes of battles past, promised powers I’d never even toyed with before. I was eager to try them out, to test myself against those who had come before me. But it wasn’t quite time yet for anyone else to know what I was really capable of.

The ruins of the gray elf city weren’t quite so daunting in the daylight. I’d always assumed the gray elves to be barbaric. As I walked past the crumbling remnants of marketplaces, temples, and intricate archways, I could see how the way they were being forced to live now clearly didn’t reflect the grandeur of their former lives. I was blown away by just how beautiful it was.

All around us, hidden under the overgrowth of foliage or peeking out of the rubble, were hints of what had been. Majestic statues of past kings gilded in gold and silver stood watch over the streets. Beautiful fountains that had long gone dry boasted glittering tile mosaics in vibrant colors. A small river snaked through the middle of the city, and there were many gracefully carved bridges crossing it. Flowering water plants grew near its banks and stones engraved with the faces of deities stared up from where they rested in the river’s depths.

Seeing it all brought up a strange mixture of awe, delight, and sorrow within my heart. I’d never been here before, and yet it felt like this place was somehow a part of me.

Jace was walking close behind Araxie as we crossed one of the bridges to the far side of the river. He stopped at the center to look down at the shimmering pebbles under the water’s crystalline surface.

“I always envisioned your people living in stick huts. You know, sleeping on the dirt, eating your enemies, and painting your faces with blood,” he said quietly.

Araxie paused. Her color-changing eyes reflected the movement of the water.

“That was just what we were told,” he went on. “That you were nothing but soulless savages squatting in the mud. Now I’m wondering if anything they told us was true.”

I didn’t dare say a word as I saw Araxie’s expression soften. She took a few careful steps toward him. Then she caught me staring at her. She stopped, frowned, and turned away to keep walking.

I cursed myself for being so obvious. If they were going to make any progress at all, I was going to have to give them some space. I just hoped I hadn’t blown their only chance to finally clear the air.

Araxie put us back on a rigorous pace through the treetops. Once again, we found ourselves being swallowed by the immense jungle as we left the gray elf royal city behind. Jace was busy making friends with the tigrex as we traveled. He’d been sharing bites of his rations, so the cat had really warmed up to him.

The only person who seemed to mind our new companion was Kiran, who still acted tense around the beast. I didn’t necessarily blame him for that. He’d probably grown up being terrified of superior predators like the tigrex. It was hard to shake that kind of thing off. He made a point to keep a wide berth between himself and the cat, and usually made sure I was standing between them.

The landscape had begun to change when we stopped for a quick meal. The jungle wasn’t quite so thick around us, so the air felt a bit cooler and freer. The trees were larger than ever, and their canopy was so dense that it choked out all sunlight. Only a faint greenish glow lit our path. Far below, the jungle floor was barren of the dense plant life that seemed to grow everywhere else.

As we all sat together on a branch, surveying the path ahead and the ground below, we passed our water skins back and forth. I noticed that there were a few places scattered in the distance where the canopy had been broken just enough for beams of glittering sunlight to filter through. The heavy humidity sparkled when it passed through the light, and the effect was as mystical as it was pretty.

I was sitting between Kiran and the tigrex—which Jace had now officially named Blue. I guess creativity wasn’t his strong suit.

Without the dense layer of jungle foliage beneath us, things were much quieter here. There were no birds or small animals to make shrill noises. Only the sounds of our voices echoed off the tree trunks. It was strangely calming.

That is, until Blue started to perk up. He stood and sniffed the air, his long tail swishing and his ears swiveling back and forth as though he heard something.

Whatever he was responding to, I didn’t see it. I couldn’t sense it yet, either, which was much more troubling.

I glanced at Araxie, who had already put her food and water skin away. She didn’t look afraid, though. In fact, there was a curious, almost excited glint to her eyes as she stood.

“What is it?” I whispered.

“The curse?” Jace echoed my concern. He already had his hand resting on the pommel of one of his blades.

She grasped his arm to stop him, but her eyes never left the forest floor. She was acting weird. The rest of us were watching her as she stood up on her tiptoes, leaning this way and that as though she were looking for something.

Kiran suddenly pointed to something in the distance. “Look there!”

“Sshh!” She squatted down. Her eyes were as big as moons and brimming with excitement as she whispered, “Not a sound. Do not move. They are coming closer.”

I still couldn’t tell what they were. It was as though my eyes were playing tricks on me. Now and again, I’d see what appeared to be movement, or something shimmering in the light, but I could never tell what it was.

And then all at once, I did see.

If they were some sort of animal, I had no name for them and nothing at all to compare them to. They were tall and lean, their bodies as transparent and fragile as wisps of smoke. They walked upright on two legs, with long narrow arms and hunched backs. They were enormous, so tall they could barely pass under the limbs of the giant trees without stooping, and yet they didn’t make a single sound as they moved. No crunching of footsteps. No panting breaths. Nothing but calm, eerily perfect silence.

It was completely surreal. There must have been a dozen of them slowly lumbering toward us through the tree trunks. They left trails of glittering white mist in their wake as their bodies rippled and wavered. Whenever one of them passed through a beam of sunlight, their form would glisten and sparkle like a riot of floating diamonds. It would seem to disappear completely, only to rematerialize once it was back under the cover of the canopy again.

“Mistherders.” Kiran breathed the word as though it were something sacred. “I thought they were just a myth.”

Araxie looked like she might cry. There was a childish, dreamlike sense of wonder on her face. “So did I.”

One of the beings was passing particularly close, and I had to resist the urge to reach out to touch it. I got no feeling from them, no sense of their presence beyond a strange chilling tickle in the back of my mind. Whatever these creatures were, they weren’t your usual jungle animals.

They were something more.

“I’ve only heard stories about them,” Araxie finally explained once we had set up camp for the night on the forest floor. Her expression was still dazed and dreamy, as though she were still looking at one of those ethereal beings. “My mother used to tell me that long ago, when Paligno first seeded the earth with life, he brought with him many great spirits to guard his precious creations and nurture them. Mistherders tended to the green places, the flowers and the fragile things. They were beings of peace, pure spirits of clean energy and gentleness that left the ground kissed with dew every morning.”

Jace had an equally entranced expression on his face as he listened to her. He was sitting hunched by the fireside with his chin resting on his hand. I had to admit, listening to her talk about them made me feel sort of pleasantly drowsy, too. It was like hearing a bedtime story.

We’d picked a relatively safe, hidden place amidst some large rock formations to set up our little camp. Here, the canopy was thinner. There was moonlight spilling through the tree limbs, casting long shadows over the boulders around us. You could even see a few stars peeking through.

Blue was curled up close by, warming himself by the light of our fire and purring loudly. Kiran was still nibbling at his dinner rations. And I’d unbundled my sleeping pallet and stretched out to rest my aching feet. All in all, we were as comfortable as we could be.

We’d been especially lucky. There’d been no trouble, no injuries, and no near-death experiences—which was a first for me when it came to carrying out one of my plans. Typically, any journey I went on was bound to be riddled with misfortune. But tomorrow, we would reach the boundary of our kingdoms, and I knew things would change after that. There, we would part ways. Araxie and Kiran would return to the temple and make preparations to receive the stone. Jace and I would return to Maldobar, making a straight path for Mithangol.

I still had some preparations to do on my end. I intended to get them done once everyone was asleep, though. I didn’t want an audience breathing down my neck while I was trying out some of my new abilities. Besides, the prospect of sending out messages to my friends, asking them to meet me at my old family home was daunting for me. I’d been gone a long time. By now, everyone I knew in Maldobar was probably assuming I had been killed in combat along with Jace. I wasn’t sure how they would respond to an invitation like this … or if they’d even get it to begin with.

“I’m going to refill our water skins. There’s a fresh spring only a short hike from here,” Araxie announced suddenly. She got up and started collecting them from all of our travel bags.

“You shouldn’t go alone,” Kiran protested. He still had a cheek full of food.

She gave him a scolding glare. “Actually, I’m the only one qualified to go alone.”

I wasn’t about to try to argue that with her and I guess Jace knew better, too, because he just shrugged and began poking at the fire with a long stick.

“I’ll keep first watch, then,” he volunteered. He sounded tired, like he didn’t exactly want to take the first shift. I was about to offer to take it for him when he shot me a dangerous glare out of the corner of his eye, like he was daring me to mess this up for him.

I didn’t get it. Not at first. Why would he care so much about taking first watch? What was the big deal? Whoever did it was going to have to keep an extra eye to make sure Araxie …

Then it hit me.

He wanted some alone time with her. I tried scrunching up my mouth and biting my tongue to keep from smirking. It didn’t work too well.

My message sending would just have to wait until later. I’d let Jace have his moment, if that’s what he wanted. But that didn’t mean I was going to sleep, either. I’d never thought there could possibly be anyone else in the world that was worse with girls than I was. Jace, however, was giving me a run for my money in that department. I wasn’t about to miss this.

After Araxie left with the water skins, I lay on my side with my arms folded. It was hard to be perfectly still for so long. I pretended to sleep for a good hour until at last I started to wonder the same thing that was apparently going through Jace’s mind, too.

“What the hell is keeping her?” he grumbled. I heard him as he got up and picked up his bow and quiver.

When he started to leave the campsite, I immediately got to my feet to follow him. I had to be sneaky about it, of course. So keeping a distance, I watched as Jace tracked her footprints through the boulders and ferns. It was easy enough. The soil here was soft and moist, and I could smell fresh water in the air. As we got closer, I could hear it burbling somewhere nearby.

When I peeked around a large rock face to make sure I was all clear, I almost got caught. Jace was only standing a few feet away from me, although he had his back turned. I scrambled back behind the boulder and waited a few seconds before I dared to peer around it again.

Jace was still standing there. He hadn’t moved an inch and he was staring straight ahead as though he were frozen in place.

Then all of a sudden, I saw why.

Araxie wasn’t naked. Not completely, anyway. She was wearing simple undergarments to cover all her private areas as she stood, thigh-deep in the moonlight water of a small lagoon. But that was as close to a naked woman as I’d ever seen—not that I enjoyed it. She was my first cousin, which made seeing her like that sort of … awkward and weird. Recoiling to my hiding spot behind the rock, I wondered if I should go back to the campsite right now or wait and see how this played out.

A female scream and a few curses in the elven language answered that question for me. No way was I going to miss this.

I dared to glance back around just in time to watch her hurl a rock at Jace. It missed him and went sailing right past my head. I practically felt the wind off it as it buzzed past me.

“Pervert!” Araxie was snarling like an angry shrike. She stomped out of the water and right up to Jace, who still looked like he was having a hard time remembering how to breathe and blink at the same time.

She slapped him, hard.

That woke him up from his trance. “What’s wrong with you?” he yelled back at her. “It’s your fault! I only came because you’d been gone too long! You never said anything about taking a bath!”

“My fault? Why you insolent pig! What else would I be doing?” She’d gone wild with anger. I cringed as she reared back to hit him again.

Her hand never made contact, though. He caught her by the wrist just in time and scowled at her dangerously. “Stop that,” he warned. “Obviously you’re fine. So I’m going.”

Araxie snatched her hand away from him with her cheeks glowing bright red. I wasn’t sure if it was from fury or embarrassment. “Am I to believe you came out here because you were concerned about me? Hah! I don’t understand you, dragonrider. You’ve brought my family nothing but grief and yet you can’t wait to throw yourself between me and anything you perceive to be a threat. Whose side are you on, anyway? Have you no loyalty to your own kind?”

Jace had begun to walk away. Her little rant put a stop to that, though. He paused mid-stride and turned around slowly. His dark eyes were colder than I’d ever seen them before.

“No. I don’t.” His voice was disturbingly calm.

Araxie was obviously stunned. She stood with her mouth open for a few seconds before she finally spoke again. “Then … then why? Why fight for them? Why kill for them? Was it for money?”

“Something like that.”

“You killed my brothers for money?” Her voice wavered, as though she could barely contain her emotion. I saw her wince as though the idea made her physically sick.

He rolled his eyes. “All dragonriders are paid, princess. Even Jaevid has received payment for his service to our so-called king.”

There was a look of quiet horror on her face that actually made me nervous. This wasn’t going well. In fact, we were well on track to this being a complete disaster. I had almost convinced myself that maybe I should intervene when Jace spoke up again.

“What? Your warriors aren’t paid?” he asked challengingly.

“No! No, of course not! To fight for our people is an honor, not some menial job. To accept payment is to be no better than a common mercenary!” She snatched her skirt off the ground and made a halfhearted attempt to cover herself. Before she did, though, I spotted something on her torso that made my stomach turn. It was a scar—a new one by the look of it—that appeared to have been made by some sort of puncture. My thoughts immediately snapped back to that bizarre dream I’d had about a wounded gray elf riding a shrike.

Jace grinned, interrupting my epiphany. It was a disturbing, satirical expression. “Oh trust me, mercenary work pays much better.”

“So that’s it, then? I have wondered since the first time I saw the scars on your body where you’d gotten them. I had my suspicions you earned them killing for sport.” Araxie glanced him up and down before curling her lip. “You disgust me.”

His confident smirk vanished instantly, and I prepared myself to break up what had the potential to be a very ugly fistfight—one that I doubted Jace could actually win.

“You think you know me, woman?” Jace growled as he took a threatening step toward her.

Of course, Araxie didn’t back down an inch. Instead, she stood up straight and met him eye-to-eye. Well, maybe not exactly eye-to-eye. She was almost a foot shorter than he was.

“I’ve dealt with enough monsters in my lifetime to know one when I see it,” she snapped fearlessly.

For whatever reason, Jace seemed almost pleased by that answer. “And what about slaves? How many of those have you seen, princess?”

Her expression faltered, skewing for an instant into what appeared to be confusion.

“In a palace like that, sitting on silk cushions, eating off gold and silver platters—I’m willing bet you’ve known a lot more slaves than monsters,” he went on. “But their lives don’t matter, right? They’re property, not people. You can crush them under your heel and get them to do just about anything for their next meal. Just tools. Cheap. Disposable. Replaceable. I know your breed just as well as you think you know mine. Royals and nobles, every one of you is exactly the same. You’re all too eager to prop your feet up on the living footstool of slavery, so don’t talk like you have any moral ground to stand on.”

Araxie narrowed her color-changing eyes, canting her head to the side as though she were trying to understand. “We never had … ” Her voice trailed away little by little.

I watched her look back to the thick, gnarled scars on his wrists and neck. I knew there were a great many more scars on his skin than what could be seen under the dim light of the moon. Most of them appeared to be old, although time hadn’t done much to fade them. His body was absolutely riddled with marks like that, although I didn’t know where he’d gotten them. Jace had outright refused to talk about his past with me.

When Araxie met his gaze again, all the rage in her expression had been replaced by something else—something that looked a great deal like sympathy. “You were a slave?”

He stiffened. His jaw clenched. “For a while. Then I became something worse.”

The mood was changing. It was subtle, but I could feel the boiling heat of resentment and anger between them beginning to calm.

I could only imagine that Jace didn’t want to look weak, so he didn’t move an inch when she reached out a hand to lightly touch the ring of scars around one of his wrists. He was awkwardly still, tensed up as though it took all his self-control not to tear away from her.

“From shackles?” she asked quietly.

Jace gave a single nod. He seemed to be having trouble just looking at her now. His eyes darted this way and that when she moved in closer. It was like watching someone pet a feral dog that cringed away, distrusting of even the slightest touch.

She held his arm up to the moonlight, observing all the marks there that the fabric of his elven-styled tunic didn’t hide. “How long did you live that way?”

“Ten years.”

“Ten years in chains?”

His frown deepened. “In one way or another. Not all chains are made of iron.”

Immediately, I thought of the vision I’d seen when I’d last healed him. It had been of a little boy in chains standing in the ashes of a ravaged village. I hadn’t thought much of it until now. I knew Jace wasn’t the sharing sort, so it would have been pointless for me to even ask. Now, however, I was beginning to understand what that image had actually been. That vision was of him. It was a glimpse into his past.

“And how does one go from being a slave to a dragonrider?”

“Not easily,” he admitted in a reluctant tone. “And not without losing any semblance of a soul. I suppose in that respect, I am some breed of monster.”

Araxie was gazing up at him with that look of sympathy still shining in her eyes. She didn’t speak for a while, and soon the silence became uncomfortable. Either something was going to happen, or they’d just have to stand that way forever.

Okay, I’ll admit I was rooting for Jace. I’d never seen him so open and willing to talk about himself. And more than that, I wanted to see that twenty years of hatred and war could be healed between our kingdoms.

“Do you hate me?” Jace suddenly broke the silence with a question that made Araxie frown.

She took a step back. “Sometimes. Yes.”

“Good.” Jace appeared to be satisfied with that answer. He bent to pick up the refilled water skins off the bank and slung them on his shoulder before he started walking away.

That made absolutely no sense to me. Apparently, Araxie felt the same way because she narrowed her eyes at his back. “Why is that good?”

“Because if you didn’t, then I’d want to stay here—regardless of whether or not Jaevid needs my help.”

He didn’t stop to look back. He was coming right toward me, making his way back to our campsite. I had to scramble to hide behind some ferns when he passed.

Once I was sure he was gone, I was beginning to feel pretty good about getting away with spying on them, that is right up until Araxie turned directly toward where I was hiding and let out an exaggerated sigh. “Come out of there, please. It’s disgraceful.”

I blushed beet red. My ears were burning as I stepped out of the ferns to face my cousin. I half expected her to be angry, but she just seemed deflated, even a little disappointed.

“I’m sorry for eavesdropping.” I kept my eyes trained on the ground since she still hadn’t put her clothes back on.

It didn’t seem to bother her if she was dressed or not, though. She took her sweet time wringing the water out of her hair and stepping carefully back into her silken robes.

“S-should I give you some privacy?” I stammered as I instinctively covered my eyes.

“Why?” She sounded confused at first. Then she laughed. “Ah. Forgive me. Sometimes I forget that you aren’t familiar with our ways. Baths are not private things to our people. It is not seen as sensual to bathe. In fact, we rather like bathing together in groups. It’s a time to be social and exchange gossip.”

I dared to glance up at her. Thank Paligno she had finished dressing by then. My nerves couldn’t take much more of this. “So then why did you scream at Jace for walking in on you?”

There was a conniving, almost smug little grin on her lips as she quickly wound her long silver hair into a braid. “Because I knew it would embarrass him,” she said. “And I think he’s rather cute when he’s embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” I hadn’t gotten that at all from the way he’d acted. I’d been worried about it actually coming to blows. “Are you sure he wasn’t angry? It sort of looked like—”

“Jaevid, how long have you trained with him? He was the one who taught you to be a dragonrider, wasn’t he? So don’t you know him at all? When he’s angry, he says nothing. He pouts like a big child. And when he’s embarrassed, he won’t shut up.”

I swallowed stiffly. “And you think he’s cute?”

She shrugged, and I could have sworn I saw a touch of blushing color her cheeks. “When he isn’t complaining or acting like a baby, maybe. Just a little.”

I probably could have spent all night trying to figure out the weird relationship that was brewing between my war dog of a former instructor and my warrior princess of a first cousin. But that would have been pointless. Women still confounded me for the most part. Without Felix there to spell it out for me, there wasn’t much hope for me sorting it out on my own.

Fortunately, I had greater concerns to worry myself with. Once Araxie and I arrived back at the camp, and I’d spun up a pathetic excuse about getting lost on my way back from using the bathroom, I volunteered to take my turn keeping watch. It was time to send out messages and rally what allies I could to my cause.

I had more than a few concerns. First of all, I didn’t know how many of my friends were still alive. It had been long enough that anything could have happened; more battles, the spread of the curse, or something else. Second, I didn’t know where they were. Third, I wasn’t sure if they would agree to help me once I explained what I intended to do. And honestly, I didn’t know if this would even work at all.

But I had to try.

When things became quiet and I was sure everyone else was sound asleep, I went around the campsite and plucked a few fresh leaves off various plants. I found the perfect spot and sat down on the ground, spreading them all out before me.

I was still learning the method tapping into Paligno’s power. Those whispering memories served as guides, feeding me instincts and memories that made the process easier. I couldn’t create something from nothing, that much they had made clear. All things came from something else—that was the very nature of life itself. So to fashion my messengers, I had to start with some kind of raw material.

Leaves would be perfect—or so I hoped.

I let my thoughts become quiet and focused as I sat cross-legged on the ground. I let those soft voices and flurrying memories fill my thoughts, whirling around me like flakes in a snowstorm. I saw what I had to do and allowed the instinctual responses wash over me. Stretching my hands out over them, I pressed my will into the fibers and tiniest parts of the leaves. They all began to glow with brilliant green light, slowly rising into the air and hovering around me. The air hummed with energy. It sounded like music, like rushing wind through the arms of the trees.

The tips of my fingers tingled as I bade them take form, and the leaves obeyed. Enveloped in light, I could see their shapes slowly changing. They began to look less like leaves and more like birds—beautiful birds with feathers as green and bright as emeralds.

I whispered my message to them, storing it inside their very essence. And then, one by one, I sent them away. One to Felix. One to Beckah. One to Roland. And lastly, one to Sile. I asked them all to come to Mithangol and meet me at my family home. I would come to them there.

With each message sent, one of the gleaming leaf-birds vanished into a puff of glittering mist and disappeared. Soon, I was left alone in the darkness of Luntharda again. Overhead, the moon had begun to sink beyond the trees. I found myself calling out to Paligno again, hoping that he would answer me somehow. I wanted assurance that I was doing the right thing and that this really was going to work. I wanted to be confident and fearless because that’s what this task was going to require.

Of course, just like all the other times, I got no response. No comfort. No voice from the heavens or the earth. There was only me and the music of the frogs and crickets.

It made me miss Beckah.

I was about to give up and go back to the fire so I could sulk and feel sorry for myself until my shift was over, but a new, curious, and familiar presence trickled into my mind. Immediately, I remembered that I wasn’t alone. I hadn’t been alone in years. Mavrik’s colors swirled in my mind’s eye and I found myself smiling at their customary patterns. He was checking up on me, as usual.

“Show me again,” I whispered as I sent my thoughts to him. “I want to see the place where you came from.”

Mavrik eagerly obliged. He was excited that I wasn’t pushing him away anymore. I guess he had missed me.

Even as I sat back down beside the fire, my mind raced on the wings of a dragon. I soared through his memories, along the steep cliffs where his kind nested on narrow ledges and in ancient sea caves. They rode the powerful winds that blasted the gray, jagged rocks. The air smelled richly of sea foam, and the waves crashed along the coastline like the pummeling fists of the gods, sending salty spray hundreds of feet into the air.

It was soothing. Every one of my senses was entranced. And when it was time for Kiran to take over the next watch shift, I let those visions lull me to sleep.

We were up and moving again by daybreak. With Araxie in the lead, we had expectations of making it to the edge of the jungle by dusk—which suited me perfectly. I’d rather get to Barrowton after nightfall when there was less chance of anyone spotting us.

High in the trees, we stayed clear of the marshy, swampy portion of Luntharda that lay below us. I picked up the pungent odor of the silt mud. It reminded me of an unfortunate incident in my fledgling year of training that had involved gray elves and a huge, angry turtle. I was more than happy to stay out of the mud this time.

Blue was still following us, although he stuck by Jace’s side most of the time. Apparently they had worked out some kind of truce that had evolved into a friendship. I feared that it was doomed to end once we left for Maldobar. Blue would never be welcomed there.

Jace had already lost his dragon in battle. He hadn’t brought it up, of course. It wasn’t his style to let anyone see him grieve … or feel much of anything, for that matter. But I had difficulty imagining that he wasn’t at least a little upset over it. Ghost may not have been bonded to him the way Mavrik was with me, but they had still fought together in many battles. It was depressing to think Jace was about lose another animal friend.

I kept my eyes trained on Araxie as we pressed on, leaving the swamps and smelly marshlands behind. My body was sore. My boots were making my feet raw from all the unnatural movements. Dragonrider boots weren’t made for this kind of maneuvering. My stomach was growling and aching, as though it were scraping the back of my spine.

I was hanging by a thread, watching every move Araxie made in anticipation of a rest. Just one swig of water, or a small bite to eat, and I felt like I would have been a little less clumsy and chaotic. Maybe then I could have at least stood without my knuckles dragging the ground.

When she finally raised a hand, signaling for the rest of us to stop, I collapsed into a sitting position on the edge of the branch, letting my legs dangle over the steep drop to the jungle floor. My armor had me smothering in the miserable heat and humidity, and I could feel that my clothes under my breastplate were drenched with sweat.

As soon as Araxie gave the go-ahead for everyone to relax, I took off my pack and unbuckled my breastplate so I could breathe and cool off a little. Then I went fishing through my belongings, desperate to find what was left of my food rations. It wasn’t much. We were all getting low on food now. I doubted we could afford to go another day without reaching the boundary.

“How much farther is it?” Jace asked as he looked despairingly at his own rations of dried meat and nuts. It was only a few handfuls—about the same as what was left in my bag, too. It was barely enough to keep someone from passing out from hunger and not nearly enough to satisfy a hungry soldier.

Araxie was sitting with her legs crossed, munching away. “Five, maybe six miles. We should reach it before dark if we do not stop or slow down.”

“In that case, I’m going to take care of some business before we get moving again.” Jace crammed what was left of his food in his mouth and got up. He stretched, groaning and rubbing his back as he wandered away into the cover of the leaves and branches.

I didn’t think anything about it. None of us seemed to, in fact. Kiran, Araxie, and I just went on eating without saying a word. I guess we were all too tired to make small talk.

My thoughts were wandering toward how I would have loved a cold bath. Even Blue was lounging comfortably nearby, licking his paws and yawning like he was wishing for a mid-afternoon nap. We’d gotten complacent.

And that was our first mistake.

Jace came back a few minutes later with his arms full of something that looked like fruit. Each one was about the size a man’s fist and was bright pink with yellow spikes all over them. I gathered by the way he was squishing one in his hand that they were softer than they looked.

He was grinning triumphantly as he showed off what he’d found. “These are fruit, right? Can we eat them?”

I would be the first in line to try one.

Then I saw Araxie’s expression.

She was sitting perfectly still. Her eyes as wide as saucers and brimming with horror. The look on Kiran’s face was eerily similar. Neither one of them made a sound.

“What?” Jace frowned down at the fruit in his arms. He’d picked about a dozen or so of the bright, prickly things.

Slowly and carefully, Araxie got to her feet. “Do not move,” she warned. I could see her breathing heavily. There was a fresh sheen of sweat on her skin as she slowly stepped toward him.

He obeyed, although he appeared just as confused as I was.

I could see the fear in Araxie’s color-changing eyes as she stood in front of him, carefully reaching out to take the piece of fruit from his hand. She held it like it might bite her. “Where did you find this?”

“Just over there. There were a bunch of them. These are just the ones I could reach.” Jace was staring her down as though he were searching for some clue about what was going on.

Meanwhile, Kiran was quickly and carefully gathering our belongings. His eyes never left Jace, and he did an excellent job not making a single sound as he worked. He didn’t so much as rustle a leaf.

I decided to do the same. I slowly buckled my breastplate back over my body and stood.

“What are they?” I whispered as I slung my bag back over my shoulder.

“The fruit of the greevwood trees,” she answered breathlessly. She’d begun taking the fruit from him piece by piece and carefully placing them on the branch a few feet away from our group.

I instantly remembered that name. Those were the carnivorous trees Kiran had warned me about. I’d even read about them some during my dragonrider training. No one had ever mentioned them having fruit, though.

“And exactly what the hell does that mean?” Jace sounded nervous.

Araxie flashed him a glance, as though she were silently trying to assure him that it would be all right. “They are very deadly. And their fruit is no different.”

“Is it poisonous?” I asked.

“No.” She shook her head. “But it will explode if you handle it too roughly.”

Jace swallowed hard. “Explode?”

Kiran came over to grab my shoulder and pull me back farther away from them. “Yes,” he answered. “Quite forcefully. One is enough to blow a man’s head clean off.”

“Great.” Jace sucked in a slow, tense breath. “And I picked a bouquet of them.”

“It’s all right,” Araxie insisted in a firm tone. “Stay calm. Don’t make any sudden movements. You made it this far with them. They must not be very ripe. The ones you find on the ground that didn’t explode on impact are far more dangerous.”

“Or I’m just cashing in on every bit of dumb luck I’ve got left,” he muttered.

She smiled, although I could tell it was forced and probably just for his benefit. She gently took the last two pieces of fruit from him and went to place them with the others that she’d neatly stacked well out of our path.

I let myself relax. Next to me, I heard Kiran let out a sigh of relief. Crisis averted.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had to take fruit so seriously—” I started to joke.

Araxie tripped.

She must have been too focused on the fruit to mind her footing. Her toes snagged on a vine, and she started to fall forward. In an instant, Jace snapped a hand out and grabbed her to keep her from falling. She didn’t hit the ground. But we all watched in quiet terror as the two pieces of fruit she’d been holding in her hands went flying through the air. They sailed past me, over Kiran’s head, and straight off the limb.

There wasn’t time to run. We only had seconds. The fruit fell, and Kiran grabbed the back of my neck and forced me to hit the deck. Araxie tried to do the same for Jace, but it was too late.

Explosions rocked the jungle around us as one piece of fruit set off another … and another … and another. The tree we were in shuddered dangerously. I caught a glimpse of Jace as he threw his arms around Araxie like he was trying to protect her.

I could hear wood splitting and limbs groaning and cracking in two. The branch we were standing on began to buckle under our feet. At first, I thought it was just breaking off, but then I saw the trunk splitting right up the middle. Not good.

Chaos erupted around me. A riot of branches, leaves, and explosions that made my ears ring. There was nowhere to run. My stomach lurched with the sensation of falling.

And all of a sudden, everything went dark.

When I woke up, I was lying on my back on the jungle floor staring up into the glare of fresh sunlight. Dust and debris hung in the air like smoke. Splinters of wood and leaves were piled on top of me. I couldn’t hear anything for the ringing in my ears, although it seemed like the explosions had finally stopped.

I was completely disoriented. I didn’t know what had happened. One look around answered that question, though. The enormous tree trunk lying on the forest floor, crushed and splintered from the explosive fruit, was a pretty good clue. Huge branches and leaves lay everywhere, and the new opening in the canopy overhead sent bright sunlight showering down over the jungle floor.

I could still feel everything, which was a relief. Sitting up, I dusted off my clothes and did a quick once-over to make sure everything was still intact—arms, fingers, legs, toes. I was bleeding from a few fresh cuts, but nothing serious.

“Jaevid!”

I looked up when I heard Kiran’s voice. He was running full speed toward me over the debris, leaping from one fallen branch to another.

“I’m all right,” I called out to him.

Apart from a deep gash on his arm that was bleeding out onto his clothes, it looked like Kiran had made it safely through the collapse of the tree, too.

I was still trying to get my ears to stop ringing as he grabbed the front of my chest plate and roughly started tying a strip of fabric over my nose and mouth. He ripped another strip off the end of his robes and did the same thing to himself, then began dragging me after him. “The air is filled with spores. We must find the princess!”

I didn’t need any more encouragement than that. We fanned out across the rubble, looking for Araxie and Jace. We called out to them over and over, but got no reply. There was nothing but eerie silence.

My panic turned to dread when I found Blue lying halfway under a huge limb. Most of his body was crushed. I could sense that his spirit was gone. There was nothing I could do for him now.

When Kiran saw what I had found, the color drained from his face. He started calling out even louder, scaling the fallen tree trunk like a squirrel while he searched for Araxie.

I could only assume he was thinking the same thing I was—that our friends had met a similar fate. They could have been buried so deeply under all this rubble we might never find their remains.

A new surge of adrenaline made my senses clear. I dipped into my subconscious, summoning a bit of Paligno’s power to try and feel for the spirits of my friends. It worked. I could feel them, their energy, resonating from the wreckage.

They were alive.

I found them together, tangled up amidst branches and vines that had shattered all around them. I yelled for Kiran, but didn’t wait for him as I started digging them out. There wasn’t time.

The energy coming off Jace was very weak.

When I moved the last few branches, I saw why. He’d been impaled through his chest and abdomen several times. The crude, bloody ends of splintered limbs were sticking out of his chest. Araxie was lying on top of him, shielded from the worst of it thanks to his efforts.

As I pulled her off him and rolled her over, I was relieved to find that the blood on her clothes wasn’t hers. She’d taken a pretty stiff blow to the back of the head and was barely conscious, but her injury wasn’t anything life threatening. Gray elves were a little more durable, after all.

I could see her eyelids fluttering and hear her groaning softly. She’d probably just have a nasty headache.

Jace was in worse shape. His eyes stared up at me, glazed and distant. I’d seen him look at me like that before. There was blood running out of the corners of his mouth and out of his nose. I could sense the severity of his wounds as if they were my own. Each second, each heartbeat, brought him closer to death. He’d punctured a lung and several crucial organs. He’d also broken his back in several places. I knew he wouldn’t last much longer unless I intervened.

“Help me pull him off,” I commanded as Kiran sprang over to observe. Together, we heaved Jace off the branches that had impaled him. It was hard, gory work that left us both spattered in blood. Thankfully, Jace was too far gone to even cry out. I doubted he could feel much at all because of how his back had been broken.

When we laid him out on the ground, I got to work right away. Healing was second nature to me now, so I didn’t even have to think about it. It came more easily than any of my other abilities, even now that I’d received Paligno’s blessing. I placed my hands upon his head and willed my power into him, mending his broken body piece by piece.

Familiar, soothing warmth spread through my mind, over my skin, and out through my palms. It must have hit him with greater force than ever before because I felt his body flinch and heard him make a hissing, gasping sound. His chest rose with a deep breath and he grabbed one of my wrists almost like he wanted to stop me, but I didn’t let up.

I knew my work was done when I heard Jace’s gruff voice mutter, “I’m gettin’ really tired of almost dying whenever I’m around you. No wonder you don’t have any friends.”

“I have friends.” I scowled as I sat back. He was obviously all right if he felt good enough to make wise cracks.

“What about her?” I noticed that his voice took on a much gentler, concerned tone as he gazed at Araxie. Even his demeanor changed as he moved closer to where she was lying nearby, still unconscious, but very much alive. “Is she …?”

“She’ll be fine. Might have a headache when she wakes up,” I assured him. “Looks like you get to live to be the hero this time, after all. You’re welcome.”

Jace just snorted. He was getting to his feet, feeling his chest and torso as though he were making sure I’d actually healed him. Maybe it was still a little hard for him to believe I could do that. He didn’t seem to dwell on it long, though. He bent down, slipped his arms under Araxie’s limp body, and picked her up. There was a worried furrow to his brow when her head lulled against his shoulder. She was totally out of it.

“Can’t you just heal her now?” He gave me a forceful look.

“There’s no time. We must go,” Kiran urged. “The trees will release more of their spores.”

With Jace still carrying the princess, we ran away from the scene of the carnage as quickly as we could. Kiran took the lead, although I had to wonder if he actually knew where we were going—especially when I began to notice the trees all around us looked eerily familiar. It was hard to tell which ones were greevwood unless you looked at the ground. It was riddled with a network of roots that played out like a spider’s web, looking to ensnare and devour anything that didn’t move fast enough over them. It made running difficult and tripping was not an option. Tripping meant being crushed to death by the roots and sucked dry of your fluids.

I did what I could to clear the way for us. I could reason with some of the trees, commanding them to let us pass without interference. That only worked for the trees that hadn’t been infected with Paligno’s curse, of course. The ones who resisted my authority released their spores anyway, which were invisible and basically undetectable. Every breath was a gamble.

Jace hadn’t stopped to protect himself from inhaling the spores. I noticed his steps were starting to slow. He stumbled and staggered, almost dropping Araxie several times.

Suddenly, his knees buckled. I caught him as he toppled backward. Beneath our feet, the roots began to writhe hungrily.

“My legs feel strange,” he slurred. “I can’t feel them.”

Kiran gave us both a violent shove forward. “Do not stop! Keep running!”

But Jace wasn’t going to last much longer. So I decided to try one of those crazy, amazing things again. Too bad Felix wasn’t there to see it.

I cut my eyes toward one of the trees nearby, stretching my will out to it and summoning forth a familiar ally. The vines that hung off its trunk all began to groan and shift. They twisted together, morphing into the shape of a staircase that led up into the tree.

“Go!” I shouted at my friends, who were just standing there watching in amazement.

I ran with them toward the staircase, continuing to weave it as we climbed higher and higher. The vines grew, forming new steps right in front of us, until at last we could step out onto one of the tree’s large branches. I was hoping that as long as we were up higher, the spores wouldn’t be as much of a threat anymore. We could pass through without falling victim to their paralyzing effects.

Unfortunately, Jace had already breathed in too many of them. His legs buckled again as soon as we started out onto the limb. He dropped Araxie and then fell on top of her.

Kiran and I didn’t have to speak. One glance and we both knew. If we were all going to make it through this, then we were going to have to work together. He was smaller than I was, so he grabbed Araxie and flung her over his shoulder. I picked up Jace and did the same.

Together, we walked the crooked branches carefully. It was risky when we had to cross from one tree or limb to another. Fortunately, I could manipulate the branches enough to make it possible, though they were a great deal slower to respond than the vines. Trees don’t typically do a lot of moving on their own accord. It made our progress frustratingly slow.

We didn’t dare stop until nightfall. We made a pitiful excuse for a camp and sat down to rest. It was too risky to go down to the ground again or start a fire since either would make us an easy target for a hungry predator. So instead, we found another broad, flat spot on a branch that was a good ten yards across. It was mossy and there wasn’t any exploding fruit in sight, so we agreed it would have to do.

Lucky for Jace, the effect of the spores didn’t last long. He was already coming out of it while we were unpacking what remained of our supplies and unfurling the bedrolls. He could already sit up, talk, and move his legs again. Kiran kept insisting that he drink lots of water to help flush the rest of the spores from his system.

Araxie was waking up, too. She’d been even luckier. Well, at Jace’s expense, anyway. She only had a good-sized knot on the back of her head and a fierce headache to show for all our near-death adventures.

I offered to heal her, but she cast me a scathing glare of warning. “I’m fine,” she hissed. I guess being hurt and carried around like a damsel was all her pride would allow for one day.

I let Kiran fill her in on what had happened … and explain to her that we weren’t sure where we were now. We were away from the greevwood trees—which was the most important thing.

She wasn’t happy. But considering that we were all alive and more or less intact, she didn’t complain. It could have been much worse.

Normally, not having a fire would have left us sitting in the darkness cringing at every sound. But we were high enough in the trees that a little moonlight managed to trickle down to where we were all sitting. Lying on her sleeping pallet, I could see the faint glimmer off Araxie’s multicolored eyes. She was staring at Jace—who was sitting dutifully beside her with a somber expression. He looked like some kind of guard dog, keeping watch over her without saying anything.

Kiran had told her, in a very abbreviated and unflattering way, how Jace had shielded her from what likely would have been her death. Of course Kiran wasn’t going to pass out any extra credit to someone he viewed as a rival. But credit had to go where it was due, and Jace had definitely earned it.

My stomach was growling angrily. There was no food left, no fire to keep us warm, and only another day’s worth of water. We had no idea where we were now or how far off course we’d wandered. Somehow, we’d have to make up all that ground tomorrow on empty stomachs. I wasn’t looking forward to that at all.

Kiran was busy tending to the deep cut on his arm. Despite my offer to heal it for him, he insisted he could do it himself and told me flat out, “Scars are to be worn with honor.” I assumed that was just another example of gray elf stubbornness and pride. I didn’t try to argue it with him.

Instead, I sat by and watched him make a poultice out of dried medicinal herbs from his bag. He smeared the paste over the wound and then wrapped it tightly with a strip of bandaging. When he was finished, he curled up on his pallet and immediately went to sleep.

Since Blue was gone, and my ability to sense presences in the jungle around us was now our only line of warning in case something came after us, I volunteered to take first round of watch over the camp. Jace wouldn’t have it, though. He was determined to take it, and I had my suspicions as to why. His motives were getting a lot easier for me to read now. Especially since his eyes scarcely left Araxie. The only time he wasn’t looking at her is if he was right beside her.

So I let him have first watch in the hopes that he’d do more than sit there and look stern. No sooner had I stretched out on my side to “sleep” than I heard him begin speaking quietly to her. I kept one eye cracked just a tiny bit so that I could watch.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for some time now—and trust me, I know this won’t change anything or make any difference at all,” Jace murmured without ever looking her way, “but I am sorry about your brothers.”

Araxie didn’t answer. Her brow was furrowed apprehensively, like she wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“You were right about me, you know. I was, and am still, very much a monster. I was promised absolution from my past if I did my job well. It was presented to me like some kind of redemption. Like I was proving my loyalty. The more of your people I killed, the more assured my freedom would be. I let that justify the things I did,” he continued. “I suppose that’s why the idea of dying has never frightened me. I realized too late that I’d only traded one form of slavery for another, so death in any form would be the only real freedom I could ever hope for. I found myself almost wishing for it, hoping that each battle would be my last. I thought it would always be that way … until today.”

“I don’t understand.” She began to sit up. The movement must have hurt that swollen, angry knot on the back of her head, though, because she winced and almost fell back again.

Jace caught her by the shoulders and held her upright.

They sat frozen like that for a few awkward moments, just staring at one another.

“I didn’t want to die,” he said stiffly, as though he were forcing the words out past all his internal fortifications. “I didn’t want to leave you behind.”

Araxie’s lips parted slightly. Her eyes widened, and I saw her begin searching his gaze desperately like she was hoping for something else.

I knew that look right away because Beckah had looked at me that exact same way many times before I’d eventually wised up and realized what it meant.

I guess Jace was a little more experienced than I’d given him credit for when it came to women. He got the message right away.

Without hesitating, he pulled her in close enough to press his mouth against hers.

I hadn’t quite made up my mind as to whether or not I would help him out if she started to lash out at him for it. She was fast enough that she might be able to snap his neck and both his arms before I even got to my feet.

Well, that and I suspected that if the situation had been reversed and I was the one going out on a limb with the girl I liked, Jace probably would have just sat back and laughed if I got beat up for trying to make a move.

Then Araxie grasped the sides of his face and kissed him back, and I decided that was a good time to roll over and give them some privacy.

After all, it’s not every day a guy gets to kiss a princess.

After a day like that, I was hoping for some good, meaningful sleep. Of course, it just wasn’t in the cards for me. As soon as I was settled in and my eyes rolled closed, I was yanked under the grip of another dream that refused to let my weary brain rest.

I found myself in a familiar place, which was a rare thing when it came to my usual nightmares. But that wasn’t a comfort to me at all. Standing in the middle of a muddy, trash-strewn street—I knew exactly where I was. I’d walked down this same street many times as a child. I stared up at the front door of the lopsided little hut where my mother and I had lived in the gray elf ghetto of Halfax. The last time I had seen it, there had been lights in the windows—evidence that a new family was living there. Now, however, I saw nothing but pitch black. The door had been kicked in, and the thin, grass-woven blinds on the windows had been torn away.

Up and down the street, the other huts looked much the same. There were no lights and no signs of life anywhere. I saw footprints—hundreds of them—leading from the empty doorways out into the street. They formed a rut in the middle of the road that led out of the ghetto.

So I followed them.

The trail led out of the city, through the gates, and out onto the open road for almost a mile. All along the way, personal items had been dropped and left behind. Bits of clothing. Shoes. I even saw a child’s doll made out of rags trampled into the grime.

I walked for what felt like hours. All the while, I noticed a bright red glow on the horizon. It was in the dead of night, and I was familiar enough with Halfax to know it couldn’t have come from any other city. But there was something else—something I was all too familiar with—that I knew had once been nearby.

A feeling of dread began digging deeply at my gut as I drew nearer and nearer to that place. Cresting a grassy hill, I looked down across the valley to where an ominous structure belched fire into the night sky.

Felix was right. The prison camp had been rebuilt.

From where I was standing, I could see the trail of footprints I’d been following led away across the grassy open fields directly toward the black iron gate of the prison camp and disappeared inside. I could see guards dressed in armor walking the perimeter and manning the ramparts.

A column of black smoke belched out of the center of the fortress, churning upward to blot out the light of the stars. I could smell it. I was now intimately familiar with that putrid scent and where it came from. I’d stood over the place in the center of the prison camp where they burned the bodies of the deceased captives once before.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. Horror froze me in place, staring at the prison camp without any doubts about what was happening there. Genocide. Mass, cruel, and unwarranted.

Suddenly, I felt every little hair on my body prickle. A strange warmth spread over me.

“Why are you showing me this?” I dared to ask.

The being standing beside me looked exactly like my mother, but I knew better. It wasn’t her. Her eyes had never been green and they certainly hadn’t glowed.

This was Paligno.

“So that nothing will sway you from what must be done to end it.” The god’s words hung in the air like a chorus of whispers. Among them, I could hear my mother’s voice.

“You think I won’t go through with my plan to kill Hovrid?” I tried not to take that too personally, although it definitely felt like a shot at my resolve.

Paligno turned slowly and focused an ancient gaze upon me. It was enough to make anyone feel two inches tall. “It is not in our nature to enjoy taking the life of another under any circumstance. But sometimes it must be done, as you have learned. The sacrifice of one life can ensure the freedom of an entire generation.”

I had to think about that. I’d never stopped or even thought to question myself about whether or not I would be able to kill Hovrid when the time came. He was my brother. Well, half-brother. Despite what he’d done, and was still doing, that was a fact that wouldn’t change. The question was would I let it change me? If he begged me for mercy, would I offer it? Was I going to let that family tie trip me up when everything else demanded that he pay for his crimes?

If someone didn’t stop him—if I didn’t take a stand—then he would continue butchering my mother’s people until they were gone. He would continue trying to defile and control the god stone, and Paligno’s curse would ravage all of nature until the balance was restored. I couldn’t let any of that happen. Brother or not, it made no difference.

“When I became a dragonrider, I swore an oath to obey the commands of the King of Maldobar.” I looked back at the prison camp and clenched my fists. “But he is not a king. I owe him no allegiance.”

Paligno just kept staring at me with those unfathomable, gleaming eyes. It was like stealing a glimpse of eternity—something my feeble brain could barely understand. It was as terrifying as it was comforting, though I couldn’t wrap my mind around that, either.

“Hovrid swore an oath as well. He sealed it with my essence,” the god said. “Before the end comes, I will hold him to it. I do not forget. Nor do I compromise.”

An uneasy silence settled over us as we stood side by side, watching the prison camp scorch the horizon. My mind was racing like wind over a dragon’s wings. I was thinking over the scenario that now lay ahead of me. Nothing about it was going to be pleasant. I knew that. And despite my best efforts to grit my teeth and bear it, it filled me with dread.

“Your father’s people will not understand,” Paligno said solemnly, as though the god could read my thoughts. I didn’t doubt that he—she—whatever it was—probably could. “Long have they lived and faithfully served an imposter, and are now caught up in his treachery. Their hands are stained with blood spilt to satisfy his rage. And when you reveal yourself to them, they will indeed call you a traitor. They will curse your name. They will scorn and despise you. They will even try to take your life. The truth you will offer will appear to them as the highest treason because they dwell in a kingdom built upon his deception.”

“It doesn’t matter what happens to me,” I replied. “I’d rather die a traitor than live as an indifferent accomplice and watch everyone else suffer.”

“Then when the time comes, you must not doubt me.” The god smiled knowingly, but it wasn’t a comforting smile at all. Something about it chilled me right to the marrow. It reminded me that although I’d seen Paligno’s true form and felt the peaceful warmth that came from his presence, I’d yet to witness his wrath.

In that cold, all-knowing sneer, I got my first real glimpse of it.

I was already awake when the sunrise gradually broke through the jungle canopy. It filled the air with a faint greenish glow as the light streamed through all the layers of leaves. The birds awoke to pour out their morning songs. Some of them sounded downright prehistoric, although I’d gotten used to all their bizarre calls since I’d been here. I was going to miss that.

A few of the more curious birds, with brightly colored feathers as vibrant as jewels, came close and even landed on my shoulders. I suppose they could sense who I was and knew they had nothing to fear from me. They appeared content to sit there, preening and making conversational chirping sounds.

Sitting a few yards away from where the rest of my companions still slept, I meditated on what my dreams had revealed to me. I was beginning to realize that the path that lay ahead wouldn’t be as clear-cut as I had originally thought. When it came time to finally lay out my plans for dethroning Hovrid to all my friends, my loyalty was going to be questioned. Every person I’d ever trusted or cared about might turn against me. But I had already chosen this course. I couldn’t turn back now. And for the first time, I felt sure and comfortable with the task that lay before me.

The longer I sat, the more my mind began to wander. Thinking of my friends in Maldobar made my chest feel tight with unease. Thanks to my mental bond with Mavrik, I knew Felix and Beckah had survived the battle in Barrowton. But I had no way of knowing what had happened to my half-brother, Roland. I could only pray and hope that he had survived and that he would be waiting for me at Mithangol with the others.

“You’re awfully cheery this morning. Something on your mind?” Jace was joking sarcastically as he sat down next to me. The sudden sound of his voice made me jump and all the birds around me scattered and disappeared into the trees.

Jace was still staring at me expectantly, waiting on my answer, but I just shook my head. I didn’t feel like sharing my thoughts just yet. Anything I said to him now was bound to ruin his unusually happy mood.

His whole demeanor had changed practically overnight and it was a side of him I’d never witnessed before. He was in love and it was painfully obvious. He now looked at Araxie like a blind man who was seeing a rainbow for the first time.

It made me miss Beckah terribly. Just the thought of her put a pain in my chest that took my breath away. I couldn’t stand still.

“Hey.” He caught me by the arm before I could slip away. For an instant, I saw that fierce, instructor-ish glare return to his eyes. “I’m serious. If there’s something—”

I cut him off before he could finish. “How do you think the other members of Blue Squadron are going to react to what we’re about to do? What about the rest of our dragonrider brothers? Do you think they’ll understand? Or join with us?”

Jace’s steely expression hardened. I could practically see his mind racing over those questions.

“It’s been long enough. By now, everyone most likely assumes that we’re both dead,” I continued. “If you go back, you’re going be associated with me as an accomplice, for better or worse. Those still serving Hovrid are going to use your past to defame you and make you out to be a criminal. Even if we do put the stone back and restore the balance, you will have to live with that stigma forever.”

“I’ve already been a criminal once, Jaevid,” he murmured darkly. “So that doesn’t exactly frighten me.”

“Then are you sure you want to go back to being one again?”

He hesitated. It was only a second or two, but it was enough to let me know that I had hit a nerve. Of course he didn’t want to go back to that. Who would? And now he was in love with Araxie. He had found a place here, in Luntharda where he could start over. What was there for him to go back to in Maldobar? He had no family—he’d told me that himself. He had no dragon, so it wasn’t as though he could go back to being a dragonrider. He had nothing there.

“Don’t talk circles around me like I’m some kind of idiot. Just say whatever it is you want to say,” he growled.

I leveled my gaze on him. “I want you stay here.”

Once again Jace fell silent.

“Stay here with Araxie. Start over. Let the past die with your memory in Luntharda.”

He slowly let go of my arm. “And what about you? You can’t fight Hovrid alone.”

“I won’t be alone.”

“You said it yourself—how do you know any of the other riders are going to side with you? Let’s say you do managed to kill Hovrid. When you do, all hell is going to break loose right over your head. Every rider and soldier in Maldobar will be coming straight for you. There won’t be anywhere to hide. You may not even make it back to the border with the stone. They will hunt you down like a dog and they will kill you.” His voice got louder as he started to get angry. It was attracting attention. Behind him, I could see Araxie and Kiran watching us suspiciously.

I straightened, squared my shoulders, and looked down at him—after all, I did have a few inches on him. “They will try. But I’m not that easy to kill.”

I met Araxie’s worried gaze. I wasn’t sure how I would ever explain this to her—at least not in a way that she would understand.

“I don’t have much family left in the world that would ever want to claim me, let alone care about me,” I said quietly so that only Jace could hear. “Those I do have are precious to me. By asking you to stay here, I’m entrusting you with one of those people. Do you understand how important that is?”

Jace scowled down at the ground silently.

I took that as a yes.

“Good.” I patted him on the shoulder to try and reassure him. “Try not to let her down.”

“No, you try not to let us down. Got it?” He returned the gesture and gave my shoulder a firm squeeze. “Fly hard. Fly fast. Don’t look back.”

I was back.

Standing on the boundary between Maldobar and Luntharda, I looked up and finally saw the starlit sky stretching out over a landscape I knew well. It was broad and beautiful, glittering with clean silver light that made the dew-covered grass sparkle across the grassy valley before me. It had been months since I had seen anything but trees and branches for as far as the eye could see.

I was standing on an all-too-familiar muddy road—one I’d never actually visited in person before. Not physically anyway. My dreams, however, had brought me here many, many times. This was the place where Hovrid had murdered the true King of Maldobar and duped my father into stealing the god stone for him.

This was the place where the course of history had changed.

Looking at the place where I knew the king had taken his last breath put a strange chill down my spine. It was the worst sensation of déjà vu I could imagine, although there were no lingering remnants of that incident now. No bones. No blood. No tracks in the mud. That had been more than twenty years ago, after all.

“This road will take you to the human city you call Barrowton.” Araxie spoke softly as she stood beside me, staring at me as though she were trying to read my thoughts. She hadn’t questioned my decision to go on alone. I suppose she trusted my judgment more than I had ever realized.

“I will send a sign when I’m drawing close with the stone,” I told her. “Be ready. Muster what warriors you can and anticipate a fight—I’ll likely have all the forces of Maldobar on my heels.”

She sighed uneasily. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her chewing on the inside of her cheek. “The people—our people—who are still in the prison camp … ”

“They will be set free,” I assured her.

Her expression darkened. “How can you be sure? What if the king who takes the throne in succession to Hovrid has the same hatred for us?”

I couldn’t help but smile. “He won’t. He doesn’t now.”

Jace was shooting me a puzzled look. I guess he hadn’t put together who would be in line for the throne. With the true king and all his progeny dead thanks to Hovrid, the next king would have to come from the most powerful noble family in Maldobar.

“There will be peace, one way or another,” I promised. “So wait for my sign.”

Araxie nodded quietly. I could sense her apprehension. She was anxious about what was to come. I was, too, in a way. I knew what had to be done, I knew I could do it; I just wasn’t sure what the cost was going to be, not only for me, but also for my friends and loved ones.

“Oh, and see that Jace doesn’t get himself killed.” I winked at her playfully. “That is, if you don’t mind babysitting my human pet.”

She managed a small smile in return.

I kept my farewells brief and set out down the muddy road under the cover of night. There was no one in sight for miles, no farms or houses. No one dared to live this close to the jungle of Luntharda.

It took me well into dawn to finally reach the remains of Barrowton. As the rising sun burned the horizon deep scarlet, I saw the charred remains of the city rise up before me. The smell of death was strong on the wind. Smoke still drifted out from behind the battle scarred walls.

I did my very best not to look into the empty eyeholes of the dead that still lay, unburied and forgotten, all around the city. Dragons, men, and elves all lay together in that mass grave, rotting away to nothing but bone under the summer sun. The faces were unrecognizable now, but I was still afraid to look—afraid of seeing the armor of someone I knew.

Normally, there would have been soldiers inside. Infantrymen who were supposed to be holding the city to ensure the elves didn’t try to retake it. Maybe even a few dragonriders flying patrol patterns. But the place was deserted. It must have been uninhabitable on the inside with no place left for anyone to hide out. That, or Hovrid had passed an order to have poisoned salts poured into all the city wells. Tainting the water supply like that was a sure fire way to make sure no one could ever live in that city again. It was a common war practice in Maldobar.

All of a sudden, an explosion of color erupted into my mind. Pinks, orange, greens, and blues swirled through my brain an instant before I felt the ground flinch under my boots.

Turning around, I was greeted by a blast of hot, smelly dragon breath on my face.

Mavrik pushed his snout against my chest and sniffed me vigorously. He chirped and growled, rubbing his head so hard against me that it nearly knocked me over. Meanwhile, he was sending me a storm of images—questions about where I had been.

“Easy, there. It’s good to see you again, too.” I was trying to keep my composure. I couldn’t, though. Not for long. I was so glad to see him. I wrapped my arms around his neck as far as they would reach and put my forehead against his scaly hide. “I’ve missed you, my friend.”

He made a deep grumbling, purring sound.

“We’ve got a lot of work to do.” I knew I didn’t have to explain. He could see the thoughts and worries that raced through my brain. He knew what I planned to do and exactly how dangerous I suspected it would be. “But once this is over, maybe we can both retire for a while.”

A sticky, prickly dragon tongue swiped my cheek. I gagged. Dragon spit is about as smelly as it gets. It’s a stink that lingers. And their tongues are a lot like a cat’s; covered in little prickly barbs that feel like sandpaper. Put that together and dragon “kisses” are not a great experience.

That is, unless that dragon happens to be yours and you have been separated him for a few months.

“Really? Come on.” I laughed and scratched that special place behind his ears that made him purr even more loudly.

He was content to crouch down while I fixed my bag to his saddle and checked things over. I was glad to find everything was exactly as I’d left it. Some of the leather had been roughed up and scuffed, but apart from that everything was in good shape. I could ride to Mithangol without having to make any resupply stops. It would take a day and a half, maybe two if the weather was bad.

Something behind me clattered noisily—almost as though someone had tripped over something.

Immediately, I froze in place. Mavrik’s lips curled back into a snarl. He began hissing and letting the black spines down his back bristle up. I put a hand against his neck to keep him steady. Then I slowly turned around.

Kiran was standing only a short distance away, his eyes wide with horror at the death and carnage all around us. He looked even more terrified when Mavrik flared his wings and snapped his jaws threateningly. The color drained out of his face until his skin and hair were almost the same shade of washed out silver.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded.

He suddenly seemed to remember that he wasn’t supposed to be following me. He dropped his gaze as though he were ashamed—or maybe just embarrassed that he’d been caught. “My loyalty lies with you,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “Please do not send me back. I want to help.”

“Does Araxie know you left?”

He shifted his weight uncomfortably. “By now I’m sure she does. I took my leave while they were … well, you know.”

“Ah.” He didn’t have to finish. I got the picture. “This isn’t a guided tour, Kiran. You know what Hovrid is doing to the gray elves in this kingdom. He’ll do the same to you if you’re caught.”

Kiran looked back up at me with a determined scowl. “I have to be here, Jaevid. I made someone a promise. I am not afraid.”

I was about to remind him that fear had nothing to do with it, but then I realized what he’d called me. He’d never used my name before.

“If you take your plans to your human allies without a gesture of good faith from the gray elves, they might not believe that we truly do want peace. Am I right? I will go with you as validation—so they will know we are in agreement.”

I had to give him some credit. He made a good argument. I couldn’t exactly disagree with that. “So be it. But you know, you’ll have to fly with me.”

His multicolored eyes went wide. “O-on your dragon?”

I glanced back at Mavrik, who was still growling and swishing his tail like an angry housecat. His yellow eyes were narrowed suspiciously in Kiran’s direction.

“If he’ll allow it.”

Mavrik snorted. He sent me a mental image of himself chewing on what looked a lot like one of Kiran’s dismembered legs.

I tried to reason with my cranky dragon. “Don’t be like that. He’s on our side. It’s just until we get to Mithangol.”

“He doesn’t like gray elves?” Kiran asked uneasily.

I gave Mavrik’s ears another scratch just to calm him down. “No. He’s just not happy about what your people did to me. You know, the whole torturing and trying to behead me business.”

“Oh.” He glanced between Mavrik and me like he wasn’t sure what to say.

I laughed. “Relax. It’ll be fine. Here, hand over your bag and let’s get going. We’re wasting time.”

Kiran reluctantly surrendered his belongings—all except for his bow and quiver, which he kept slung over his shoulder. He cautiously hedged toward Mavrik and waited while I buckled down his things to the saddle.

“I’ve never been so close to a dragon before,” I heard him mutter as I slipped my hands into my riding gauntlets and climbed into the saddle.

“Well, now you get to ride on one.”

He wrinkled his nose when I offered to help him up as though I’d insulted his ego somehow. In the end, though, he needed it in order to get up into the saddle.

I quickly showed him where to sit and hold on. The whole time, I noticed his hands were shaking. He still looked flushed and nervous. It made me smirk. I remembered the first time I had been in a dragon saddle. I’d been a nervous wreck, too.

Too bad the worst part was yet to come.

“Don’t lean against the pull of his speed,” I warned as I buckled myself in. I checked one more time to make sure Kiran was hanging on tight.

We took off into the early morning sky like a streak of blue lightning. Mavrik poured on the speed and broke the low-lying cloud cover until we soared above the clouds. Overhead, the twilight sky was still dark purple and dotted with glittering stars. Below, the clouds looked like milky cotton for as far as I could see in every direction.

I planned for us to stay above the clouds, hidden from anyone on the ground below, until we reached the Stonegap Mountains. There, we could keep close to the rock faces and mountain peaks, winding our way down to Mithangol. Hopefully no one would see us. We could stop somewhere high on the cliffs and make a camp just long enough to let Mavrik rest. It was too far for him to fly it all in one stretch, especially with two passengers.

All during our trip, I couldn’t keep my gaze from wandering to the east, toward the rising of the sun and the royal city of Halfax. There, all the way across the kingdom, was my enemy. He was enthroned behind halls of stone, protected by the same brothers in arms I had trained with. Just the thought of my graduation ceremony when I had knelt at his feet and swore an oath to him made my blood boil. It made me feel absolutely sick. I’d been right there, standing within arm’s reach of him. I could have ended it then. I could have set things right.

I wouldn’t let that chance slip by me again.

A new day was dawning.

Mithangol appeared like a cluster of warm lights tucked into the steep canyons between the mountains. It was late in the afternoon the next day when I finally spotted it. The sight filled me with anxiety and adrenaline.

I’d always been careful when approaching my hometown. I didn’t want to advertise my coming and going, or the fact that I had a dragon. Now more than ever, I took care to approach from the rural side of the city and circle at a high altitude until it was dark enough to land without being spotted.

As we wheeled in broad patterns over the city, I sensed the presence of someone else following us—two someones, actually. Nova and Icarus joined us in formation, flying off our wing and roaring in greeting. They were a welcome sight, even though both their saddles were empty. Mavrik sent me mental images of my family home as explanation. The windows were lit and there was smoke rising from the chimney. I had company.

My messages had worked.

I sent both dragons away so they wouldn’t interfere with our landing. Then I let Mavrik make his descent. I was trying to stay calm. I didn’t want to seem unsteady or like I was second-guessing myself. But my heart was pounding and my hands were sweating. As much as I wanted to be reunited with my friends, namely with Beckah and Felix, the fear of how I would be received almost made me want to turn around and run.

Would they be happy to see me? Relieved? Angry?

Mavrik flared his wings and touched down gracefully on the front lawn of my home. He let out a rumbling growl, which I interpreted as a complaint about flying so long with Kiran’s extra weight.

I patted his neck roughly. “Good work, buddy. You’ve definitely earned some dinner, but try to stay close by in case we have to leave suddenly.”

He chirped in agreement.

I helped Kiran dismount first. He’d taken his first dragon ride pretty well. Better than I’d expected he would, anyway. He hadn’t thrown up—which was good. He just looked a bit pasty in the face as he wobbled away from Mavrik and waited to catch the bags I tossed down to him.

No sooner had my feet hit the ground than the front door of my house opened. Light spilled out of the doorway, and I could see the silhouettes of people crowding to look out at us.

All of a sudden, one of them broke loose and began running straight toward me.

Beckah was barefoot, wearing only a thin white nightgown and a robe, both of which were falling off her shoulders as she sprinted over the grass. Her long dark hair blew around her wildly in the night air. As she came closer, I could see the tears streaming down her cheeks.

I dropped everything to rip off my gauntlets.

“Jaevid!” She screamed my name a few seconds before I caught her in my arms. Without all her armor on, she felt much softer. She felt fragile.

I squeezed her tightly and kissed her. It didn’t matter that anyone saw. I was so glad just to see her.

The others were coming outside now. The sight of so many familiar faces standing around me was overwhelming.

Then I saw Felix. He had stopped short, looking at me as though he couldn’t decide if he wanted to hit me or hug me. Beside him, I noticed his wing end, Lieutenant Prax, had come along as well. Sile and his wife were lingering on the front porch, watching with somber expressions. Next to them were a few other members of Emerald Flight—my comrades from Northwatch. They all stood by in silence, staring at me with mixed expressions of awe and suspicion.

Then I noticed the shape of someone else still standing in the doorway. It made me hesitate and pull away from Beckah slightly. I just had to be sure my eyes weren’t fooling me.

They weren’t.

Roland looked so different. The last glimpse I’d had of him had been years ago now, before I’d started my training to be a dragonrider. We’d both been children. Now we were both soldiers. And the war had changed us both.

He was bigger than I remembered. Granted, we were about the same height now, but he was far more muscular than I was. He had a short, dark beard and one of his arms was bandaged all the way to the shoulder and fixed against his chest in a sling. He was still wearing his casual infantry uniform and there was a sword belted to his hip.

When our eyes met, he nodded to me slightly. He’d never been one to say anything unless it was absolutely necessary.

“We all had the same dream.” Beckah’s voice was hushed. I felt her reach down to take my hand and squeeze it tightly. “We dreamt of you. You said you were coming here and that we should come to meet you. Please, tell us what’s going on. We all thought you were dead. That was three months ago. Where on earth have you been?”

I turned slightly and directed my gaze to where Kiran was standing beside Mavrik, holding both of our bags, and eyeing my crowd of friends warily. Everyone else looked with me. I knew Felix and Beckah might recognize him. They had met briefly before, a long time ago, during the scuffle with some slavers during my fledgling year.

The others, however, were strangers to Kiran. And not all of them were going to be thrilled to see a gray elf standing in the front yard.

“I guess you could say I got sidetracked.” I wasn’t sure where to begin. There was so much to tell, I needed to collect my thoughts before I started explaining things.

Beckah squeezed my hand again as if to get my attention. Looking down into her soft green eyes, I felt guilt rush over my body like a cold tide. She seemed restless and her face was thinner, like she hadn’t been eating enough. That one look from her could bring me to my knees. I knew that I’d hurt her. She’d been living with the assumption that I was dead. Now I was back and she had no way of knowing what I’d been through just to be standing there.

“I’m sorry, Beckah.” I tried to keep my voice low enough that only she would hear.

Felix apparently did, though.

Before I knew what was happening, he punched me across the mouth. It knocked the breath right out of me. Beckah screamed and immediately put herself between us. I stumbled back and rubbed my throbbing jaw.

“No! Sorry doesn’t cut it! Not this time,” he shouted and just kept coming, fists balled up for another attack.

“What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?” Beckah stormed up to him and shoved him back.

Felix had a crazed look in his eyes. “You don’t get to do this to me—to any of us. I buried you, you selfish idiot. Buried you on my family’s estate grounds. I’ve had to walk past that headstone for three months! And now you just show up like nothing ever happened?”

I didn’t know what to say. From where I was standing, I could see that he was biting back tears. His face was bright red and he looked like he wanted to take another swing at me just to get the point across.

I almost wanted him to. He was right. I’d never really stopped to consider what all of this must be doing to him, or what he’d been forced to deal with when I was presumed dead.

“Felix, you have to let me explain,” I tried to reason with him. “I never meant for any of this to happen. But it had to. I know it doesn’t make any sense to you right now. Please just hear me out.”

He was panting and his eyes were blazing with anger. Even so, I kept walking toward him. He could hit me again if he wanted. If that’s what it took for him to forgive me, I was willing to take it.

I gently coaxed Beckah out of my way so we could meet face-to-face, eye-to-eye. “For a while, I was worried you hadn’t survived the battle, either.”

“I’m a much better rider than you are, idiot,” he growled sulkily. “Of course I wouldn’t die.”

I chanced a smirk and stretched out a hand to him. “And you really think a little stroll through Luntharda would be enough to kill me?”

His eyes narrowed for a moment, like he was still making up his mind about whether or not to forgive me for disappearing. At last, he grasped my hand and yanked me into a gruff, brotherly hug. “I didn’t know what to think. I still don’t. Where on earth did you find him?”

All eyes were on Kiran again.

He’d dared to inch a bit closer to us, still holding all our luggage and dressed like a traditional gray elf warrior. His presence obviously had my dragonrider brothers from Emerald Flight on edge. They were glaring at him relentlessly.

“And what about Jace?” Prax spoke up in a hopeful tone. I suppose he was thinking that if I had survived, then maybe Jace had, too.

“It’s a long story, too long to tell while standing in the front yard.” I took Beckah’s hand again and nodded toward the house. “Let’s go in.”

Everyone started shifting toward the front door—everyone including Kiran. He was about to cross the threshold into my living room when a few of my dragonrider comrades stepped into his path. I could sense the tension in the air. This was about to turn into a fight.

“What is this creature doing here?” one of them demanded. He had his hand resting on the pommel of his sword.

Kiran didn’t respond. To his credit, he didn’t even look intimidated. Maybe he knew better than to do anything to instigate a brawl on my front porch.

The members of Emerald Flight, however, didn’t seem to have that same respect for my house.

“Stand down,” I snarled at them. I flexed a bit of my power, just enough to make every wooden board and beam in the house shudder.

Everyone stopped. They stared at me, and most of them looked shocked and unnerved. Even Sile was regarding me with a much more apprehensive expression. He was sticking awfully close to his wife and baby, as though he didn’t quite trust me anymore.

“This is my home. You’ll respect my wishes in it. Now move aside and let him enter.” I slowly panned my gaze over them, silently daring them to challenge me on this.

Not one of them did.

They stepped aside and let Kiran in without another word.

“So when do you tell us what this is all about?” Felix asked impatiently.

“Yes,” Prax agreed. “You’ve brought us all here, plus that pointy-eared friend, what is it you want from us?”

Slowly, I let my gaze travel around the room once again. I met the eyes of my comrades, of Sile and his wife, of my half-brother Roland, of Felix and Beckah, and of Kiran. One by one, I studied them and found myself silently begging Paligno for strength and wisdom.

The time had come.

“I’ve asked you all here because something must be done; something that on the surface will be extremely difficult to understand. Many of you will find it heinous. You won’t want any part of it. But if you’ll listen, maybe I can explain to you why there is no other choice.”

Felix was already shaking his head. “No other choice? Jaevid, what are you talking about?”

I looked at him squarely. I was still praying he would trust me now like he always had. I needed him on my side. “I’m talking about high treason.”

Cold, heavy silence swallowed every sound in the room. No one said a word. No one moved.

I closed my eyes.

“I’ve come to make traitors of you all.”

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I’d like to honor an amazing woman, Jimmye “Nanny” Watford, who passed away April 7, 2015.

During World War II she served as a civilian employee of the U.S. Navy at NAS Pensacola. She served as a volunteer with the Girl Scouts for over 20 years. Jimmye was an amazing artist and craftsperson. She loved reading, gardening, playing cards, sewing, quilting, and needlepoint.

Thank you so much for your love and support, Nanny!

You will be greatly missed!

***

I’d also like to thank my dear friends Katie, Lexie, and Casey for all your help and support. You ladies are my rock!

NICOLE CONWAY

Nicole Conway is the author of the children’s fantasy series, THE DRAGONRIDER CHRONICLES, about a young boy’s journey into manhood as he trains to become a dragonrider. Originally from a small town in North Alabama, Nicole moves frequently due to her husband’s career as a pilot for the United States Air Force. She received a B.A. in English from Auburn University, and will soon attend graduate school. She has previously worked as a freelance and graphic artist for promotional companies, but has now embraced writing as a full-time occupation.

Nicole enjoys hiking, camping, shopping, cooking, and spending time with her family and friends. She lives at home with her husband, two cats, and dog.

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KIRAN’S STORY

Nicole Conway

He wouldn’t even look at me.

Standing next to my father, the gray elf slave kept his eyes fixed on the ground. His forehead crinkled in an unchanging expression of distress. He was a pitiful sight, really, wearing only a tattered loincloth and a thick iron collar, from which a chain ran to my father’s hand like a leash.

I couldn’t imagine how much my dad had spent on this poor fellow. Slaves never came cheap, after all, and the fact that he was a relatively healthy young male suggested that Dad had probably spent far too much..

“Is this really necessary?” I asked, as I wiped fresh blood from my hands onto the front of my apron. “I don’t have time to train someone new. It’s easier for me just to do it myself.”

My father scowled. “Holly, we had to turn away four patients this week because we don’t have bed space. Another set of hands would help get things moving faster. And I don’t have to tell you that faster turnover means we can see more patients, and more patients means more money.”

“And an extra set of hands means another mouth to feed,” I countered. “Does he even speak our language? How am I supposed to teach him anything if we can’t communicate?”

Dad shoved the chain and a key into my hands before I knew what was coming. I nearly dropped both of them. “You really think I would buy a slave who couldn’t understand us? This one cost me a fortune. He better do everything I was promised he could.”

Ah, there it was. I glared up at my dad. “You borrowed from my dowry again, didn’t you?”

“When you inherit my practice, you’ll have all the dowry you need.” That was his way of sloughing me off while indirectly admitting that he had. Fantastic. My dowry was already pitiful, especially for a doctor’s daughter. And now, it would be nothing more than a joke to any prospective suitors. No reasonable man would want to marry a girl with nothing to her name.

Dad really had me this time. Now I had no choice but to stay here, elbow-deep in body fluids, working until my back was numb and tending to his patients from dawn till dusk. Mom would have been absolutely livid.

“I’ve got to make a few house calls this evening,” Dad prattled on, like there was nothing left to discuss. He started gathering his examination supplies into a big, black leather bag. “You’ll be all right till I return?”

I glanced uneasily at the elven slave anchored to the other end of the chain I now held. Good grief. Didn’t my dad have any sense at all? What if this fellow tried to hurt me? What if he tried to escape? There wasn’t a whole lot I could do to stop him in either case.

“Don’t look like that.” Dad patted my head like I was still a little girl. Annoying. “He’s quite tame. That’s what the broker told me. He’s worked in a household before, so he can be trusted. He’ll be a good help to you.”

I nibbled at my bottom lip. He certainly didn’t look threatening. He kept his head down; his shoulders slumped in total defeat. He was beyond filthy, too. Every inch of him was smeared in something like mud that reeked like rotting swamp water. Even his long, silver hair was caked with it. Gods and Fates, he didn’t even have shoes on his feet.

I saw Dad off, watching from the doorway of our three-story home which also served as our clinic. He walked briskly away down the cobblestone streets and disappeared into the gloom of the evening. Out front, a big green sign hung from a metal bar just above our door. Painted on it was a single word: CHIRURGEON. A surgeon’s office. This was where my father had run his business for more than thirty years.

And me? Well, I had been his assistant since I was old enough to walk and bring him tools or cups of water for patients. Mom had been very gifted at the apothecary arts. Now we were a team, Dad and I. There wasn’t a patient we couldn’t help in some way. At least, that’s what I told myself every time some poor sap limped through our door, bleeding from a gruesome injury.

I’d done it all. I’d sewn up or cauterized stumps left from missing limbs and digits. I’d even delivered a few babies. Was it pleasant work? No, of course not. But it was necessary, and I liked being useful. I’d be lying if I said the more serious injuries didn’t give me a little rush of excitement. Each one was a puzzle I had to put together, and I enjoyed the challenge—most days.

But that’s not to say I wanted to inherit the business for all eternity. The workload was already impossible for just my father and myself. And now, he’d bought this slave. I just wasn’t happy that he’d essentially been dumped into my lap like a stray puppy.

I sighed, checked to make sure the wooden placard on our door read “OPEN,”, and shut the door.

Facing the gray elf slave again, I got a strange squirming feeling in my belly. This was awkward—especially since I was the one holding the other end of his, er, leash. The gray elf still hadn’t looked up at me, so I couldn’t see much of his face through his clumped and grimy silver hair. He was muscular, though—I’d grant him that. At least he didn’t look scrawny or sickly like so many of the other slaves I’d seen. He was also taller than me—not that that was any sort of accomplishment. I’d always been short for my age and was most likely doomed to stay that way forever. “Sprightly,” my mom had always called it, because I was petite like she had been.

“Well, let’s see if we can’t get you cleaned up,” I said, which only made me feel even more uncomfortable.

The elven boy didn’t respond. But he did follow along obediently as I led him through the house and up the stairs to the third floor. That was where our private quarters were. I brought him into the washroom we often lent to patients and drew a basin of clean bathwater. Lighting the small coal fire beneath the porcelain tub it to warm it, I sifted through our soaps and oils till I found something that I hoped would make him smell better. His hair was a problem. I glanced at it, wondering if he’d let me cut it, or at least trim some of the big knots.

Without thinking, I reached out to touch a lock clumped together from scalp to end. When my fingers brushed through it, he flinched away and made a soft growling sound.

I yelped, cringing away, too.

Our eyes met.

Just the sight of his bizarre, color-changing irises made me gasp. I’d never seen a gray elf close enough to really get a good look at them. Their eyes were their strangest feature. Well, except for their silver-colored hair. His eyes shimmered in all different hues, like an opal in sunlight, and seemed to change depending on the environment. It was breathtaking.

“I-I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to scare you.” I struggled to sound less nervous than I was as I turned away to test the bathwater’s temperature. “I thought you might like a bath. And your hair’s a mess. You’ve got knots in there I’m not sure we’ll ever get out. How about I just cut it shorter, so it doesn’t get in your way?”

The corners of those piercing, animalistic eyes pinched up. His lips twitched in a snarl, making my heart do a panicked somersault.

“No. No cutting.”

I swallowed hard. “Of course. No cutting, then.”

His gaze drifted back to the floor.

I let out a shaking breath of relief. This wasn’t going well at all. I had to do something to put him at ease or we’d never be able to work together. But how do you make friends with someone your father bought?

“My name is Holly,” I said. “I know my dad purchased you to work here, but you and I are going to be spending a lot of time together, so I’d like us to be able to trust one another, okay? This is a good place. We help people here. You’ll have plenty of food and anything else you might need. You won’t be abused—that I can promise you. But we’ll have to work hard together, you and I.”

He didn’t reply.

“May I know your name?”

Seconds ticked by, but he didn’t make a sound.

I sighed in defeat. So much for that. “Listen, I’m going to take your collar off. If you decide to run . . . well, I suppose there’s nothing I can really do to stop you. Just please don’t hurt me.”

His eyes darted up to mine. They looked bluish green in the dim light of the bathroom. My heart started to beat faster.

“Okay. Just stay still.” My hands trembled as I inched towards him. I fumbled like an idiot with the key, reaching under his long hair to find the keyhole. I found it, at last, on the back of his neck. I had to get closer if I was going to unlock it. So I held my breath, inching even closer to work the tiny iron key into position.

I’d never stood that close to a boy before, elf or otherwise. He smelled like sour swamp water, unfortunately. Gross. The heat coming off his skin, however, made me blush. I tried my best not to touch him any more than necessary, and yet every time my fingers would graze the skin of his neck, I felt my face burn hotter.

Then he turned his head slightly and smelled me.

Oh, Fates. I could feel his breath on my hair and a slight rustle like he was sniffing the top of my head. He was smelling me, wasn’t he? Was I imagining it? Was this some sort of gray elf greeting ritual?

Thankfully, at that moment, the lock clinked and the collar fell slack around his neck. I took it off and tossed it to the floor, kicking it away from us. My heart was still racing and my skin was flushed. But at least he hadn’t growled at me this time.

“O-okay. I’ll let you have some privacy.” I tripped clumsily over my words. “I’ll try to find you something to wear.”

It was as good an excuse as any to dart out of the washroom and shut the door. I touched my chest to try to calm my racing heart. Good grief. He was just a gray elf. Why was I acting this way?

I gave him a good half hour to himself in the washroom, since I figured it would take at least that long to scrub the mud off his skin. Then I grabbed a bundle of clean clothes, gathered my courage, and knocked on the door.

“Hello in there? I found something for you to wear. I’ll just leave them here outside the door for you,” I called. “When you’re ready, I’ll be downstairs in the kitchen.”

This was his chance. If he wanted to run, now was the time. I wouldn’t even know about it until he was long gone. Minutes ticked by as I sat at our long kitchen table, sorting dried herbs and crushing them into powders that we could use to treat infection, fever, or any number of ailments. I’d almost stopped worrying about him altogether when I heard footsteps in the doorway.

He was staring at me. But it was different from before. He didn’t look quite as . . . savage now. The long-sleeved, white linen tunic and black wool pants actually fit him well. He still didn’t have any shoes—those I would have to order in his size—but apart from that, he looked much more civilized. Now clean, his skin was a beautiful bronze color. He’d washed and arranged his long silvery-white hair into a ponytail that revealed his pointed ears. He’d even managed to get out those awful knots. I now had a much better view of his face, which was a lot more handsome than I’d realized before.

I caught myself gawking at him.

“Well, you certainly look like you feel better.” I tried to sound casual and indifferent.

He didn’t comment as he came to stand over me, watching as I went on sorting the herbs.

“Lavender,” I explained as I held up a sprig of the sweet-smelling plant for him. “And this one is Rosemary. These are Chamomile blossoms, and these are Poppy seeds. We have lots more in the garden out back. Each one can be used to make medicines.”

He took the Lavender from me, sniffed it, and canted his head to the side. Then he carefully handed it back.

“We call this apothecary medicine. Do they have anything like this in your culture?” I decided not to look at him as I tried once again to get him to talk. Maybe staring at him was making him as nervous as I became whenever my dad loomed over me to inspect my work.

The chair on the opposite side of the table made a scraping noise as he pulled it back and sat down. “Yes,” he replied. “But not the same plants.”

I fought back a smile of triumph. “Perhaps we can learn from one another, then. My mother taught me this. I can teach you as well. And you can show me some gray elf methods, if you like.”

When I stole a glance at his face, I could see him studying me. His gaze was so intense. I felt like a deer being eyed down by a mountain cat.

“Where is she?” he asked all of a sudden.

“Who?”

“Your mother.”

A hard knot formed in the back of my throat. “She died three years ago.”

He didn’t seem to notice or care that this subject was difficult for me. “How did she die?”

“Giving birth to my brother.” I kept my answers short and hoped he’d let the subject drop.

“And where is he?”

I stopped working. Gazing at him from across the table, I let him see the pain in my eyes. Maybe then he’d understand I didn’t like talking about this. “He died, too. He was too small to survive. We tried to save them both, but there was nothing we could do. Some things are simply impossible to fix, even with medicine.”

His features were solemn and I could sense that he was thinking. He waited a long time before speaking again. “My sister also.”

“Also what?” I asked. Too late I realized what he’d been trying to say.

“She died,” he explained. I could see the way his eyes turned cold, as though he were steeling himself against showing any emotion the way I had.

“How?”

He made a breaking motion with his hands. “Her leg was wounded. She had a fever. We couldn’t do anything for her. The slavers stopped her suffering.”

Fresh tears were rolling down my cheeks before I even realized it. I tried to wipe them away before he noticed, but it was too late. “I’m so sorry. Sometimes when bones break, they get infected if they go too long without being treated. I wish I could have helped her.”

He began sorting the herbs into piles, stopping to smell them every now and then. “Would you help a gray elf slave with your medicines?”

“Of course,” I answered quickly. “No one should ever be left to suffer like that.”

He fell silent again. It was as though his thoughts had carried him far away. Likewise, my mind was consumed by memories of my mother. Neither of us broke the silence as we sat across from one another at the dinner table, sorting herbs by the light of the kitchen hearth’s embers.

Three weeks had passed, and still I didn’t know his name. Any time I would ask, he acted like he hadn’t heard me. It was painfully awkward to call him “Hey, you” all the time, but I was determined not to name him as though he were some kind of pet.

He was very helpful, though, which made my dad happy. Our new addition was a fast learner, and he could already make a lot of the herbal medicines without any assistance. He could sterilize our tools, bring food and water to the patients, and wash the dirtied linens. I’d even begun showing him some basic medical procedures, like how to stitch up minor wounds. As uncomfortable as I was with the idea of owning a slave, I had to admit that it was nice to have help. I actually had time to sit down and eat a decent meal more than once a day; normally, that would have been out of the question.

I just wished we had more to talk about. I wished we could be friends. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how naïve it was to even think about something like that. Why in the world would he want to be friends with me? My dad had purchased him from a broker like cattle or a piece of furniture. And now he was here, against his will, working, when he probably had a family somewhere who needed him.

No wonder he wouldn’t tell me his name.

Those thoughts made me increasingly frustrated as the days went by. It bothered me that my dad wouldn’t let him eat at the table with us, that he wouldn’t let me buy him any more clothes. The elf’s “bedroom” ended up being a pallet on the floor in our surgery room, which made me feel like an absolute liar for promising him a few creature comforts here. Dad accused me of being ridiculous. He was a slave, not a relative. And besides, sleeping on the floor here, with blankets, a pillow, and food in his belly was better than being in a prison camp . . . right?

I couldn’t argue with that logic. Not successfully, anyway. But that didn’t make me feel any better about it.

Looking up from my breakfast plate of a fried egg and toast, I stared at the gray elf’s back. He was perched on a stool at the counter, eating his own meal in silence. I could see the silhouette of his broad, strong shoulders against the thin fabric of his shirt. His long hair was wound into a complex braid that hung nearly to his waist. Now that it had been properly cared for, washed more than a few times, it shone like platinum in the morning light trickling through the kitchen window. I longed to touch it, but didn’t dare try. After all, the other times I’d accidentally touched him he’d reacted like he had brushed up against a hot stove and jerked away immediately. He obviously didn’t like it, and I didn’t want to offend him any more than necessary.

“Holly!” My dad burst into the kitchen with a wild look in his eyes. He was frantically putting on his bifocals. “There’s an infantry wagon outside.”

I gulped down the food in my mouth. “What? Now?”

He snapped his fingers at us. “Up! Both of you! Get the rooms prepped. There’s no time.”

“But they didn’t send us any warning! How many patients? We don’t have enough beds for—!” I protested as I wolfed down the rest of my breakfast and ran for my apron.

Dad didn’t stick around to give me the details. He was already headed for the door, propping it open for the soldiers to bring in their wounded comrades. I could hear the commotion it was causing outside—people were gathering to gawk at the latest victims of the war.

Together, the gray elf and I began turning back all the patient beds we had available. When we ran out, I put him to work making sterile pallets on the floor in the examination rooms, while I gathered trays of sterilized medical tools. We both stood back, mouths shut and eyes wide, as the infantrymen brought in their wounded one right after the other: twenty-two total. We weren’t going to have nearly enough room for this.

“Hurry, go put down more pallets in the surgery room,” I told the gray elf. “You can move your things into my room for now.”

He obeyed without a word, and I joined my dad by tending to the most serious injuries first. I’d been at this long enough to tell within a few minutes if a patient was going to make it or not. Ironically, it rarely had anything to do with the severity of their injuries.

It was all in their eyes. Some of them already had a glazed, faraway look—those were usually the ones who didn’t make it. The ones who stared back at me, even if they were terrified or in white-hot agony, had a better chance of surviving whatever had happened.

In this case, it was a surprise attack from the gray elf military. That much was easy to tell. The trademark barb-headed arrows were difficult to get out, and getting them out didn’t guarantee survival—not when the gray elves made it a habit to tip their weaponry in lethal poison. Sometimes, if we caught it early enough, we could counteract it.

But usually not.

By the end of the day, I was spattered with fresh blood from head to toe. My hair was a sweaty mess and kept getting in my eyes. My fingers ached from performing surgery after surgery, and my clothes were damp with sweat and blood. My ears were ringing with a high-pitched whine from listening to men scream and beg whatever deity was listening for help. I’d yet to see it do any of them any good, though.

My body was still twitching with adrenaline as I sank into a chair outside one of the surgery rooms to catch my breath. Of the twenty-two brought in, only twelve had survived. Seven were lost to the gray elf poison, two to internal bleeding, and three to wounds that had taken their lives before they’d ever gotten to our surgery table.

Our gray elf wouldn’t have to give up his spot in the surgery room after all.

Dad had ordered the bodies be wrapped in clean white sheets and taken out back. Our gray elf had been the one tasked with that chore because I certainly wasn’t strong enough to move the bodies of full-grown men. I didn’t think anything of it as I sent him on his way, which was rather dumb on my part.

Then I heard the sound of angry voices.

“Get your hands off him, you filthy sack of meat!” One of infantryman who had driven the wagon carrying his wounded comrades had cornered our gray elf near the back door. I could tell right away this was bad. The soldier was bowed up like an angry tomcat, fists clenched and teeth bared for a fight.

The gray elf didn’t seem afraid, though, even though the soldier was at least half a foot taller. He glared back at the infantryman, his back against the wall and his chest heaving in steady, deep breaths.

I knew a fight when I saw one, and we were seconds away from having a brawl in the hallway.

“Hey!” I yelled as I stormed towards them. I planted myself between them like a barrier. “There will be absolutely no fighting in my clinic! This man is helping us, which means he’s also helping you.”

The soldier gaped at me in shock. “He was handling the bodies of our dead, my brothers in combat that his people murdered! What sort of surgeon hires gray elves?” he snapped in a disgusted tone.

I narrowed my eyes. “The sort who gets twenty-two patients without a minute’s notice. Now if you please, sir, go back to the waiting area. I’ll bring you some tea and we can discuss this like civilized people.”

The only good thing about being a petite sixteen-year-old girl working in a place like this was that people were always surprised to see me here. I didn’t quite fit the typical stereotype of a surgeon or a surgeon’s assistant. Today, that was working to my advantage more than usual. The soldier was apparently so surprised he forgot all about the gray elf standing on the other side of me.

I pointed back down the hall. “If you please, sir. I’ll be right with you in a moment.”

The infantryman glanced me up and down, sizing me up one more time before he complied. I watched him stumble away, scratching the back of his head like he wasn’t sure what had just happened.

I let out a breath of relief. Crisis averted.

“Maybe you should wait outside until we get everyone settled in,” I suggested as I turned around. “I’m so sorry about that. These soldiers just came off the battlefront. I’m sure they’re all still a hot-blooded from combat.”

The gray elf was standing so close to me that we almost bumped noses. It startled me. I leaned back, instinctively putting a hand against his chest before I realized what I was doing. This time, however, he didn’t flinch or pull away.

His gaze traveled over me, moving so slowly I could have sworn I felt it tingling on my skin. I stood frozen, staring back and waiting for him to do or say something. Anything at all.

I didn’t realize he’d moved until I felt one of his fingers touch my cheek, combing a lock of my curly red hair away from my face. He seemed mystified by it. Or by me—I couldn’t tell which.

“You’re brave for so small a person,” he said.

I couldn’t decide if that was a compliment or an insult. I decided to be hopefully naïve and take it as a compliment.

“I have to be.” Not everyone was cut out to do what I did. Dealing with patients and their loved ones wasn’t for the faint of heart, especially when those patients were soldiers. Their tempers always ran close to the surface. Besides, I didn’t even think of it as being brave; I was only doing what was necessary.

“Holly!” My dad’s punishing voice startled me again.

I spun around and found him glaring at both of us. Oh no. I knew exactly what that must have looked like to him. My stomach swirled with panic.

“Come away from there and get back to work,” Dad growled. Then he turned his wrath onto the gray elf. “And you. I better not ever catch you touching my daughter again. I’d be happy to send you to the salt mines at Wolf’s Head before you could blink three times. Do we have an understanding, slave?”

I darted away before I could hear any more of the exchange. I didn’t think the gray elf would retaliate or say anything back. And I was totally embarrassed. I didn’t want to admit that I’d actually liked the way it felt when he touched me. More than that, I was upset and angry with my father because now he’d probably never do it again.

Two more infantrymen passed away before the week was out. The gray elf poison was too potent, and sometimes even my expert herbal remedies couldn’t rival it. The rest of our patients were on the mend, however, and things were looking better for them every day.

Despite my father’s reassurances that we would call for them if anything changed, a couple of the uninjured soldiers insisted on camping out in the hallway outside the examination rooms when they should have been waiting in the inn down the street.

Sure, I understood them wanting to keep vigil over their wounded comrades, but it was annoying to nearly trip over them every time I rounded a corner. And I always felt compelled to offer them food or tea while they waited. Anything to keep them calm and content.

Soon, though, food and drink weren’t enough to keep things amiable.

There was no hiding my gray elf helper—not when I needed his assistance changing bedding, feeding the patients, and measuring out medicines. And every time the soldiers saw him, the tension in the air became so thick you could practically taste it. Not that I didn’t understand their resentment; we were at war with the gray elves, after all. But still, he wasn’t a threat to them. He hadn’t even spoken to them.

In the end, though, that didn’t matter.

Dad was away again. He’d left to go on house calls while we had things under control at the clinic. It was late, well past midnight, and I’d finally finished final rounds, checking on all our patients. Everything was calm and quiet. Everyone had their medications and clean bandages, and was settled in for the night.

I took off my apron as I came out of the last examination room, carefully closing the door behind me. I was already thinking about the long, hot bath I’d most definitely earned. A bath and a bite or two of dinner was all I wanted before falling into bed.

Rounding the corner on my way to the kitchen, I nearly ran into one of the soldiers. He grabbed me by the shoulders to keep me from falling as I tripped over my own feet to get out of his way.

“Easy, miss,” he said. His words were kind, but I could tell by his tone that something was off.

And when he didn’t let me go, a cold pang of fear shot straight through my body.

“I-I’m fine. My apologies. I wasn’t paying attention.” I tried to move, to wriggle out of his grasp.

He squeezed me harder. “What’s the matter?”

“Please let me go. I need to get back to work,” I lied.

“Work? Right. Is that why you were undressing?” The look in his eyes was downright venomous. “Going to work on that gray elf slave? I’ve seen you skulking around with him. Heard the doc say he suspects you two are messing around, too. That’s pretty insulting, you know. Especially since you didn’t offer me or any of my men that same . . . courtesy.”

I balked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but that’s hardly any of your business, sir.”

“Feisty, aren’t you?” He grinned, showing his teeth like a snarling wolf. “Maybe you’d like to make things right, then? Why don’t you work on me tonight, instead?”

I swallowed. “My dad will be back any minute and when he gets here I’ll—”

“You’ll do nothing,” the soldier sneered. “Because he isn’t coming back. Not for a good long while, right? I’ve seen him come and go. He never gets back before dawn. And when he does, I’ll be sure to tell him what happened to his poor little girl when his gray elf slave suddenly turned on her.”

He squeezed my arms even harder—hard enough that there would definitely be a bruise to show for it. I fought wildly as he picked me up off my feet and slung me over his shoulder. I hit him anywhere I could, but it didn’t seem to faze him whatsoever.

Fear began to course through my veins as he lugged me around the corner and into one of the supply closets. It wasn’t a big space, barely large enough to fit both of us, but when he shut the door it was completely dark.

He started to tear at my clothes and I screamed as loud as I could. He clamped a hand over my mouth to silence me, and I bit down on the soft web of meat between his thumb and forefinger. I heard him curse. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and then—

The door burst open behind us with a loud crack.

The soldier turned.

Someone hit him—punched the soldier so hard across the nose I actually heard it break. He had no choice but to let me go, then.

As soon as I was free, I ducked around him and scrambled out of the closet as fast as I possibly could. I ran straight for whoever had saved me.

The gray elf caught me in his arms. He put a hand on the back of my head, carefully herding me behind him as the soldier started to come after both of us.

“Close your eyes,” the gray elf said quietly. I saw something in his expression that almost terrified me more than the soldier—almost.

This time, the predatory rage in his eyes wasn’t directed at me.

I obeyed. And while I didn’t actually see the fight, I definitely heard it. I heard them exchanging blows. I heard bones snapping and the sound of blood splattering on the floor. When it was over and everything became quiet, I was too afraid to open my eyes again, terrified to see who was left standing.

A warm hand cupped my face.

“P-please don’t hurt me,” I sobbed. I still hadn’t opened my eyes.

“I would not harm you,” a deep voice answered. It was the gray elf. I knew his calm tone right away.

Relief and the realization of what had almost happened to me swept through my body so suddenly my knees buckled. He caught me before I could hit the floor, and for a moment he stood very still, holding me against his chest. I could hear him whispering to me, gentle words in a beautiful, musical language I didn’t understand.

I started to feel calmer.

Behind us, the soldier who had attacked me was lying unconscious on the floor, bleeding profusely from his nose. One of his arms was twisted around in a position that told me it was most certainly broken—possibly in several places. I wasn’t in a hurry to fix it for him, though.

“My father will be back,” I started to worry out loud. “He’ll see what you did. He’ll never believe—!”

The gray elf pressed a finger against my lips and silenced me. “I will take care of it.”

“What? How can you?”

He didn’t answer. He lowered his finger and looked down at one of my arms. There were big bruises already forming where the soldier had grabbed me. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“No. I’m okay.” I blushed and looked away, trying to wipe my eyes as I pulled myself together. “Thanks to you.”

He nodded. “Good. Go upstairs. Do not come back down until morning.”

“What are you going to do with him?” I was almost too afraid to ask. “You aren’t going to kill him, are you?”

The gray elf smirked. He shook his head and pointed past me to the stairs. “Go on. Everything will be fine.”

Whatever he did with the unconscious soldier, I never found out. I didn’t necessarily want to know, though. As I settled into my bed, my hair still dripping wet from my bath, I curled into the fetal position and tried not to think about it.

It was hard. I was still scared out of my mind. Every sound made me tense up. My dad still wasn’t home, and I didn’t trust any of the soldiers in our clinic now. The only thing that kept me from spending the night hiding in my armoire was the knowledge that my gray elf savior was somewhere in the house as well. And he wasn’t going to let anyone hurt me.

I closed my eyes and thought about his words. Everything will be fine. How could he be so sure? Why had he even rescued me in the first place? Didn’t he know what would happen if anyone had caught him beating up an infantryman?

Just the thought made my toes curl and my fists clench with frantic worry. I couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to him. My father could never find out.

No one had ever attacked me like that before. Even weeks after it happened, I still found myself getting unreasonably anxious whenever Dad left me alone with male patients. The soldiers were long gone, but that didn’t matter. I still jumped at any sudden sound and found myself gravitating closer to my gray elf savior’s side whenever we were alone.

He didn’t seem to mind. I even caught him smiling to himself whenever I called him in to do some silly little chore just so I wouldn’t be alone. It was embarrassing, but I didn’t know what else to do. I’d never felt so vulnerable and helpless.

I even found myself begging my dad not to leave me alone at night while he went on house calls.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, as he carefully packed his black leather bag. “Mrs. Collart is going to give birth any day now. She’s on bed rest so she can’t come to the clinic. I have to look in on her. You’ll be just fine. Lock the doors if you’re afraid, but honestly, I don’t understand where all this paranoia is coming from.”

I fidgeted nervously with the strings on my apron. He still didn’t know about what had happened with the soldier. “Can’t you just see about her in the morning? I could go with you. I’ve never done any house calls before.”

Dad waved a hand at me dismissively. “You need to stay here and look after our patients.”

There really was no reasoning with him. This had been the routine for years and I knew he wasn’t going to change it now. I watched quietly as he finished packing up and ducked out the front door. Once he had vanished down the street, I turned the placard to the “CLOSED” side and locked the door.

It was very late when I finally finished tending to the last patient. I hurried through my bedtime routine, eating dinner and bathing before finally settling into my room for the night. Even behind the closed door, I didn’t feel safe at all.

I tossed and turned in a restless sleep. I’d begun having nightmares of soldiers sneaking in and attacking me, and tonight’s was the worst one yet. I dreamed I was back in that awful supply closet. My gray elf savior was outside beating on the door, trying to get in to rescue me. But the door wouldn’t budge. He couldn’t get in.

I screamed as I bolted upright in my bed. My heart was pounding and my cheeks were wet with tears.

All of a sudden, my bedroom door flew open.

I screamed again before I realized who it was.

The gray elf came rushing in, bleary-eyed and looking around in confusion for whoever was attacking me this time. I must have woken him up because he was only wearing pants and his braid was mussed up. When he realized there was no one else in the room he turned and blinked drowsily in my direction.

“Are you all right?”

I was shaking so badly I couldn’t speak. Whenever I tried, my throat seized up and I started to cry again.

I saw him let out a heavy sigh. His muscular shoulders slumped and he quietly closed the door again—but he didn’t leave. Instead, he sat down next to me. My bed lurched under his weight.

“Nothing is going to come in here without me knowing about it,” he assured me in an all-too-confident tone.

I sniffled and hid my face in my blankets. “How do you know that?”

“Because I’ve been sleeping just outside.”

I looked up. “What?”

He pointed to the door. “I’ve been just out there every night.”

“But . . . why?” I couldn’t believe it. I’d never seen any evidence of that.

He shrugged, and I could have sworn I saw him blush in the faint moonlight ebbing through my bedroom window. “I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

Now I was blushing, too. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.”

I studied him for a moment. His strange eyes sparkled as he stared back at me. Why he would do something like that for me—the daughter of the man who owned him? I knew what I wanted the reason to be. I also knew that I wanted, more than anything, for him to kiss me. He was handsome, even if he was wild looking with that strange white hair, pointed ears, and color-changing eyes. He was like something from a completely different world, ethereal and breathtaking in a way I’d never seen before.

“Can you sleep now?” he asked.

I shook my head.

He frowned and glanced around, at the door and then back to me. “Come here,” he said at last, as he gathered me into his arms.

Propped up in my bed, he held me against the warmth of his bare chest. I couldn’t help myself—I curled against him, relishing the feel of being cradled in such strong arms. I could hear his heartbeat in my ear and my head rose and fell with every breath he took. It was so soothing.

“Kiran.”

I glanced up when I heard him speak. “What?”

“That is my name. Kiran,” he repeated.

I wasn’t sure what to say. My heart was racing again, but this time it was for an entirely different reason. I was suddenly very aware of every single place our skin was touching.

“Kiran,” I whispered his name. Then a question rose to my lips. “Why did you save me? My father bought you—as though you were just an animal. My people enslaved you and . . . and your sister. No one would have ever blamed you if you had just looked the other way.”

I felt his fingers in my hair again, twisting gently at my curls like he’d never felt anything like them before. “Maybe.”

“So why?”

“Because I like you.” His answer was so simple it almost sounded like a joke.

“You like me?” I was about to protest, or demand a better explanation, but then he slipped his hand into mine. I watched him lace our fingers together and hold them up to the moonlight. His hand felt so strong, so warm and steady.

“I have another question,” I whispered.

I could hear the smile in his voice when he answered, “Yes?”

“Why didn’t you run away? When my father first brought you here and it was just the two of us. You could have left. I wouldn’t have tried to stop you. Even now, you could still run and make it miles from here before . . . ”

He brought my hand up to his mouth. I felt his lips touch my skin, and I totally forgot what I was saying. My heart started doing erratic flips like it was trying to burst out of my chest.

“Because I had already tried that,” he replied.

“Tried what?”

“Running.” His expression became distant again, and I thought about his sister. Was that when she had gotten hurt? While they were both trying to escape?

I was struggling to hold back all the other questions I wanted to ask. There was so much about him I didn’t know, and so much I wanted to learn.

“Go to sleep, Holly,” he said quietly.

I didn’t want to sleep. Sure, I was exhausted. It had been so long since I’d slept soundly. And having him there, so close, was more comforting than I could ever have expressed. I didn’t want this moment to end.

I tried to keep our conversation going. “I like you, too, you know.”

“I know.” He sounded so certain about that.

“Oh, really?”

“Mhmm.” I could hear that smile again. “Your face gets red whenever I touch you. Sometimes almost the same color as your hair.”

Crap. I was blushing like that now, probably. I squeezed my eyes shut and decided that maybe sleep would be less embarrassing. “My dad is going to freak out if he catches us like this, you know.”

“He won’t.”

“You sound awfully sure about that.” I let my eyes fall closed. It took a while, but I finally felt myself become completely calm in his embrace. The rhythm of his heartbeat in my ear lulled me to sleep. And this time, there were no nightmares. This time, I dreamed of a jungle so beautiful I couldn’t imagine such a place could ever be real.

Of course, it couldn’t last.

Even dreaming that we could ever stay together like that was ridiculous. As long as our kingdoms were at war, as long as he was a slave, and as long as I was the daughter of the man who owned him . . . we could never be together.

That reality came crashing in on me when I awoke the next morning to find myself alone in my bed, the sound of rain pattering on the windowpanes. It was so early the sun still hadn’t risen yet. I tiptoed to my bedroom door and pressed my ear against the wood; I could hear Kiran snoring on the other side of it.

Bless him, he really was sleeping in the hall to make sure nothing happened to me. It broke my heart. And now I knew I had to do something.

I had to help set him free.

He’d never be safe in Maldobar, not with the king’s cronies rounding up all the gray elves and forcing them to live in those awful ghettos. That is, until they were caught doing something “illegal.” Then they were sent to prison camps or sold into slavery.

No, he couldn’t stay here. I had to help him get home, all the way home, to his own kingdom. He would be safe there. He could have a real life . . . even if I wasn’t in it.

The question was how to get him there.

It wasn’t going to be easy. But everything had a price, and smuggling a gray elf back into his homeland was sure to be expensive. I just had to find the right palms to grease. Fortunately, being in the medical trade meant I had a few connections.

So I got to work.

I had to act like nothing abnormal was going on. No one could know what I was up to—not even Kiran. If he knew, he might try to talk me out of it.

I went about my usual routine over the next few days, taking time to carefully plan what I was going to do. Little by little, I started setting aside foods I knew would last the long, long ride from the royal city of Halfax, where we lived, all the way to the elven kingdom of Luntharda. It would take him days, maybe even weeks. I had to make sure he wouldn’t need to stop for a while.

When I did my weekly grocery run, I used the money Dad gave me to buy food and got a leather bag, a bolt of black wool fabric, and a pair of men’s black riding boots. I hid them under my bed along with the food I’d been storing away. At night, after I was certain everyone else had gone to sleep, I sat up by candlelight and began using the wool fabric to sew a long, black, hooded cloak. I used the leftovers to make a crude sleeping pallet and rolled it into a neat bundle that could be strapped to the bag.

The day before my plan was set to come to fruition, I dug through my dad’s closet and took out a nicer, albeit old and threadbare, outfit. The tunic, pants, and leather jerkin probably didn’t even fit him anymore. But these were normal-looking human clothes. They would be perfect. I also cleaned and mended an old wineskin Dad had discarded because it had a hole in it. I filled it with water before adding it to my stash.

Everything was nearly ready. There were only two pieces left to acquire before I was sure he stood a reasonable chance. That night as I lay in bed, listening to Kiran snoring outside my door, my mind was spinning with worries and anxieties that he might get caught or my dad would find out what I was planning to do. I couldn’t sleep a wink. And when the sun started to rise, I knew there would be no turning back now. Today was the day.

Kiran could tell I wasn’t acting right. I knew because he kept staring at me, giving me funny looks as though he wanted to ask what was wrong. I tried to reassure him, to smile and shrug it off by saying I just wasn’t feeling well. I must not have been very convincing, though, because he still seemed concerned.

Truth be told, I was concerned too. I wasn’t sure this was going to work. What if I’d forgotten something important? What if he didn’t make it? What if my dad sent the city guards after him?

I closed my eyes and said a prayer to anyone that might be listening. Please let him be safe. Please let him make it home.

That night, after Dad left to go on his nightly house calls, I closed the clinic early and hurried through the evening rounds. As soon as the last patient was squared away, I seized Kiran by the wrist and basically dragged him up the stairs to my room. His eyes were wide and confused as I shut the door and locked us both inside.

Then I showed him what I’d collected. One by one, I spread all the items out on the bed. The clothes, the food, the pack, the wineskin, and the bedroll.

He didn’t say anything at first. He just ran his hands over all the things I’d gathered and made, examining each one before he turned a puzzled gaze upon me.

“What is this?” he asked.

“You’re going home,” I told him. “Back to Luntharda, where I know you’ll be safe.”

His mouth opened in surprise but no sound came out.

I picked up the clothes and pushed them into his hands. “Hurry and get dressed. I’ll be right back.”

My eyes were tearing up as I left him there to change. I didn’t want him to go. That is, I didn’t want us to be apart. I wished I could go with him. I wished we lived in a different place or time, when we could have stayed together. But wishing never did anyone any good.

I’d wasted a lot of time on wishing.

Slipping into my dad’s bedroom, I took a deep breath and whispered an apology to him as I opened the top drawer of his armoire and took out the wooden box buried under his socks. Inside was a fist-sized black velvet bag filled with gold and silver coins—all that was left of my wedding dowry.

I tucked the bag into the pocket of my apron and put the box carefully back in its hiding place before returning to my bedroom. By the time I got back, Kiran was nearly finished changing. He was sitting on the edge of my bed, slipping on the knee-high riding boots.

He stood and straightened the high collar of the leather jerkin. I couldn’t help but admire him; those clothes definitely suited him. Stepping forward, I helped tuck his long white braid into the back of his shirt so it would be hidden and buckled the long cloak around his shoulders. With the hood up, no one would be able to tell he was a gray elf.

I packed all the traveling wares into the leather bag and threaded it across one of my shoulders. Then I grabbed his hand. Together, we made a break for the front door.

But when we got there, Kiran dug his heels in. He stopped in the doorway and wouldn’t budge another inch. He pulled me back and looked down at me with his expression riddled with intensity and concern.

“Why are you doing this?” he demanded.

I couldn’t look at him. It hurt too much, and I didn’t want him to see me cry again. “Because I can’t bear this anymore. You deserve better than to be anyone’s slave, Kiran.”

He placed his fingers under my chin and tilted my head back so that I had to look at him. “You could get in very big trouble for this, you know.”

He really had no idea. I might go to prison. And even if I didn’t, now I would have no wedding dowry at all. Not that it mattered. There was only one man whose wife I would have wanted to be.

“I’m not afraid,” I told him.

He smiled. His fingers brushed the side of my neck until his hand cupped my jaw. His beautiful, wild eyes went to my mouth and made my stomach do an excited flip.

But a commotion down the street made both of us jump. A carriage was rattling towards us. Now wasn’t the time or place. Someone might see us or recognize that Kiran wasn’t human.

I grabbed the hood of his cloak and pulled it down over his head to hide his silver hair and pointed ears. “Follow me.”

Hand-in-hand, we ran through the city streets. City guards were making their nightly patrol rounds. More than once, I had to yank him into a corner or through a back alley to avoid them. I knew if we were caught, we would be questioned. There wasn’t any sort of curfew in place now, but they would still be suspicious.

At last, I brought him to the front steps of an inn very near the city’s outer wall. I happened to know the owner quite well; I’d treated him for a bad eye infection not a year ago. He owed me big time. Without my remedies, he would have lost his sight in that eye—maybe even the eyeball itself.

I leaned over, gripping my side while I caught my breath. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Leaving Kiran to hide in the alleyway behind the inn, I quickly ducked inside. A few patrons were seated about the common area, enjoying warm brews and the light of the evening fire smoldering in the hearth. No one looked up to acknowledge me until the innkeeper poked his head out of a back room and waved.

“Holly! What brings you here at this hour?” He smiled cheerfully.

I tried to act casual. “Good evening. I’ve got a favor to ask. Is there somewhere we can talk?”

The innkeeper showed me to his office behind the bar, closing the door to give us a little privacy. “What’s the matter? You look awfully flushed, miss.”

I forced a smile. “Oh, I’m all right. Just a little winded. I don’t guess I’ve walked this far from the clinic in a while.”

“Well, what can I do for you?”

I started fingering the bag of coins in my pocket. “I wondered if you still had that horse for sale? And the saddle, too?”

He arched an eyebrow suspiciously. “What in the world do you need with a horse, Miss Holly?”

Casual. Act casual. “It’s not for me. It’s for my dad. You know he goes on so many house calls these days all over the city. I thought he might like having a horse to ride rather than going about on foot all the time.”

“A horse and saddle don’t come cheap.” The innkeeper still didn’t look convinced.

I took out the bag and poured the coins into my palm. “I believe this should cover it, and then some. You know, just to keep this a secret between us. I want it to be a surprise.”

I watched the innkeeper’s eyes widen at the sight of so much gold and silver. “Miss Holly, this is too much. The horse is just an old nag.”

“But it’s fast, isn’t it?”

Once again, his eyes became suspicious. “I suppose so.”

“Then I’ll take it. And the saddle, too.” I held the coins out to him. My pulse was pounding in my ears, and it took everything I had to keep from shaking.

Hesitantly, he took the coins. “Where did you get this money, child?”

I winced. I didn’t have a good excuse for that, but the truth still worked sufficiently. “It’s all that’s left of my wedding dowry. There was never much to begin with, and it seems silly to cling to it now. I’m going to take over the family business, become a surgeon like my father. That’s all the dowry I’ll need.”

I must have been a better liar than I ever realized. Either that, or I was performing well under pressure. He seemed to believe me, although he gave me a nearly sorrowful look as he took my money.

“You’re sure you don’t want the change?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Not so long as you promise never to tell anyone I was here tonight.” I added a cutesy, girlish wink for good measure.

He smiled sadly and patted my shoulder. “I promise.”

Gods and Fates, I hoped I could trust him.

I tried not to think about it any more as I readied the horse and brought it around to the alley where Kiran was still waiting for me. He eyed the creature anxiously, like he’d never ridden one before.

I started to panic. Didn’t gray elves have horses?

“I can manage,” he tried to reassure me as he took the reins.

I was so nervous I couldn’t keep myself from shivering. “Are you sure?” There really wasn’t time to give him a riding lesson.

Kiran nodded. He ran a curious hand over the horse’s neck with a mystified look on his face. “I’ve seen them ridden plenty of times. They move quite fast.”

“Hopefully it will be fast enough,” I muttered. “Do you know the way back? Can you get there on your own?”

He turned his gaze on me, emotions flickering over his handsome features so quickly I wasn’t sure what he was thinking. But there wasn’t time to sort it out. He had to go, now—before someone noticed.

“Kiran,” I started to speak, to warn him that he had better take his opportunity while he had it.

He cut me off by pressing his soft, warm lips firmly against mine.

The world spun for a moment. I steadied myself, putting my hands against his chest. His kiss grew deeper, more desperate and passionate by the second. I held onto him as tightly as I could, drinking in every little detail of how he felt, smelled, and tasted.

And then it was over.

I watched him climb up into the saddle, settling his feet in the stirrups and turning the horse around to leave the alley—and me—behind.

“I will come back,” he promised when he stopped and looked back. “Wait for me.”

I couldn’t speak. My throat ached to call out for him to stop. To come back. I knew he probably would have if I’d asked him to. But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t dare ask him to come back and be our slave again.

I loved him far too much to ask him to do that.

Standing alone in the dark of the alleyway, I watched Kiran gallop away into the night, listened to the clatter of his hoof beats fade to silence. He was riding away from me, but he was headed for freedom.

Wait for me.

His words echoed in my heart over and over again. I would wait, even if it took a lifetime. It would be worth it.

I would see Kiran again.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Map

Acknowledgements

About the Author

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Kiran’s Story