“What did you do!” Mira drops to her knees and pulls Mom’s body from Brennan, her hands furiously seeking what mine just had, any sign of a heartbeat. “Mom?” She shakes her violently, but Mom’s head rolls onto her shoulder.
“Mom!”
I can’t breathe. She’s the tide, the storms, the very air, a force too big to be extinguished without ripping the world itself apart to the core. How can she just be gone?
“I’m so sorry.” Sloane cries softly.
“What did you do?” Mira yells again, the full force of her wrath turned on Brennan.
“Xaden needs you,” Andarna says, but I can’t move. “Tairn and Sgaeyl wait with him.”
“We need to get them out,” Aaric says, and there are hands—his, I think—on my shoulders, pulling me up off the floor and guiding me backward.
Mira follows, hooking her arms under Mom’s and dragging her from the chamber. Sloane helps Brennan, and then we’re all in the tunnel. Someone else carries Mom. One of the first-years?
Mira’s hands are on my face, searching my eyes, as a shape blocks the entrance to the tunnel. “Are you all right?”
“I couldn’t stop her.” Was that my voice? Or Brennan’s?
Heat flares, intense enough to suck the oxygen from my lungs, but it doesn’t touch us.
Andarna is in the doorway, her wings flared to stop the flame that circles the chamber, flowing in from six above and the one who makes all the difference. A pulse of energy runs through me in a wave. The wards.
When Andarna moves, my gaze wanders up the mended wardstone to the iron flame that burns black on top.
It’s all that’s left of my mother.
Most generals dream of dying in service to their kingdom.
But you know me better than that, my love.
When I fall, it will be for one reason only: to protect our children.
—RECOVERED, UNSENT CORRESPONDENCE OF GENERAL LILITH SORRENGAIL
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
Thud. Thud. The sound echoes down the ward chamber. “Wyvern bodies,” Andarna tells me, pivoting to peek her head through the doorway. “Please forgive me.” Her golden eyes blink.
Forgive her?
“She made a choice,” I whisper, but the tears falling down my cheeks aren’t quite as resigned, nor are the sobs racking Mira’s body, and the blank stare on Brennan’s face is anything but peaceful as he removes his flight jacket in slow, jerky motions and drapes it over Mom’s body.
I’m not sure how much time passes as we’re ushered down the tunnel and through the narrow passage. The stairs are a blur.
“You are alive. You will live today. You will wake tomorrow,” Tairn promises me as I force one foot in front of the other.
“Xaden?” I reach through the bond, but his shields are up.
“He lives.”
Thank you, Dunne.
That’s gravity, right? He’s enough to keep my feet grounded. To keep the sun rising.
“He’ll put her body in the quadrant,” someone tells Brennan. A dragon must have brought Mom’s body out of the ward chamber.
We emerge from the southwest tower to the sounds of victory. Cheers and cries of thanks to the gods. Infantry, healers, riders, and fliers alike clog the hallway with their hugs, but we make it through.
Mira, Brennan, and I stand in the doorway of the courtyard, watching the celebration break into full force. None of us seem able to move.
A face appears in front of mine. Brown eyes. Brown hair. Dain.
“Violet?” He lifts a blood-soaked arm to reach for me, then thinks twice. “Are you—”
“Move!” Rhiannon pushes him out of the way, her grin tired and so very beautiful. “You got the wards up!” She cups my face with both hands.
“Yes.” I manage a nod, my gaze skimming over her face. There are a few tears in the thighs of her leathers that might be stab wounds, but I can’t tell. “Are you hurt?”
“It’s nothing,” she assures me. “You should have seen it! The wyvern started falling from the sky like dead weights, and the venin panicked and ran. Leadership is hunting them down.”
“Good. That’s good.” I keep nodding. “The others?”
“Ridoc is all right. Imogen took a swipe on her side, but she’s barely complaining. Quinn has a busted cheek, but I think it’s mostly swelling, and I was just headed to check on Sawyer and the fliers. Want to…” She studies my expression. “Xaden?”
“Alive,” I croak. “According to Tairn.”
She glances at Brennan, then Mira before turning back toward me, understanding dawning as her face falls.
“My mom,” I try to explain, but my throat closes. “She. The wardstone didn’t have any power, and my mom…”
“Oh, Vi.” Rhi takes the step that separates us and pulls me in a hug.
It doesn’t matter that I shouldn’t, that it’s a shameful display of emotion, or that she wouldn’t want it. I break down and sob against Rhiannon’s shoulder, my breaths coming in heaving gasps. With every tear, I feel my feet gain traction on a spinning world, feel the first waves of shock start to pass.
When I look up, Brennan is sitting on the steps that lead into the administration building, looking ready to pass out as he gives orders, and Mira is nowhere to be seen.
“What do you need?” Rhi asks.
I reach out to Xaden, but his shields are still locked up tight, so I drag the backs of my hands across my face and try like hell to pull myself together. “I need to lay eyes on Tairn and Xaden.”
“In the front,” Tairn tells me, and I head in that direction, passing the negotiations between Melgren and Devera and pausing when I hear him laying out terms for our return. An attack, a horde that big? Bodies dropping all over the kingdom? There’s no chance leadership can hide this. It’s only a matter of hours before every Navarrian citizen knows they’ve been lied to. No wonder they want us to return.
I’m not even sure I want to come back. I make my way through the courtyard and then the archway, into the open air.
Open…graveyard.
Bodies of wyvern litter the ground with a few colors mixed in, but I don’t recognize any of the dragons I pass as I make my way to the looming shapes of Tairn and Sgaeyl near the edge of the ravine.
“Are you harmed?” I ask him.
“You would know if I were,” he says, his head swiveling as Andarna approaches, her right wing trembling as she flares them just before landing.
“You two need to catch up. Right now.”
Tairn turns a golden eye on me.
“Right. Now,” I repeat.
His attention fully shifts to Andarna, and I walk toward Sgaeyl, feeling Xaden beyond where she sits guard.
“Are you going to let me pass?” I ask her, keeping my eyes on hers and not the blood beard she’s sporting.
“You fought well today.”
“Thank you.” A reluctant smile tugs at my lips. “You did, too.”
“Yes, well, I’m expected to.” She shifts her forelegs, revealing Xaden standing at the edge of the ravine, his back turned toward me. “Be careful of your words.”
“That’s ironic coming from you,” I mutter but move forward, surveying him. There’s a laceration across his upper back, but that’s all I see as I walk to his side, keeping my toes a few inches from the edge, where his damn near hang over. “What happened?”