Total pages in book: 295
Estimated words: 282090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1410(@200wpm)___ 1128(@250wpm)___ 940(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 282090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1410(@200wpm)___ 1128(@250wpm)___ 940(@300wpm)
“I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t know.” Her wide, brown eyes search mine. “Not until the wyvern was dropped at the front gates of Samara. Mom arrived about ten hours later and told me the truth—told all of the riders the truth.”
I blink through the shock. “She just…told you.”
“Yes.” Her chin dips as she nods. “She probably figured out there was no lying her way around a giant dead wyvern.”
And we’d already been on our way here.
“Xaden.” I reach out, not because I don’t trust my sister, but because I trust him more.
“If she said your mother confessed, then she’s telling the truth. We’re at the edge of the city now, just flying with the stragglers.”
“And what, she just let all forty of you leave?” I step out of her hug and gesture at the dragons perched on the walls around us. There’s no way they’d let dozens of riders desert.
“She gave us an hour to decide, and half of us chose to leave. We flew into other riders on the way who’d been given the same ultimatum. Leadership decided letting us go was a safer choice than letting us stay and talk the others into leaving, or worse, leaking information, and besides, it wasn’t really our choice, was it?” She glances back at Teine.
That’s… not right. Why would Mom and Melgren let them just… go?
“I think she knew I’d find—” She looks over my shoulder and freezes, then starts to tremble as her pupils blow wide.
“Mira?” I glance back to the house and see exactly what’s shaken her.
Brennan hurries down the steps, his mouth curving into a smile I can’t help but mirror. All three of us are here, and there are no words for how complete it feels. My eyes burn, blinking back the bittersweet yet wholly joyous emotion that threatens to overwhelm me.
We’re finally together again.
“Brennan?” Mira croaks, and I move back a couple of steps to give them room. “How?”
“Hey, Mira.” He’s less than a dozen feet away, his grin widening.
“You’re alive?” She stumbles forward, shaking her head. “After…I mean… It’s been six years, and you’re… alive?”
“In the flesh.” He opens his arms. “Gods, it’s good to see you.”
She draws back her fist and punches him straight in the face.
The blood of life of the six and the one combined and set the stone ablaze in an iron rain.
—THE JOURNAL OF WARRICK OF LUCERAS—TRANSLATED BY CADET VIOLET SORRENGAIL
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
So. Much. Blood. “Get to the great hall and tell Ridoc Gamlyn that I need ice now!” I shout at a guard as we pass through the foyer.
“I’m fine!” Brennan manages to say around the handkerchief stanching the river of blood trying to pour down his face. He tests the cartilage and cringes. “Damn it, Mira, I think you broke it!”
“I heard a distinct crunch.” I glare at my sister over my shoulder as we walk into the office where we have history class. It’s set up for cadets, with a dozen chairs surrounding a hastily constructed table.
“You deserve it,” Mira calls out, shaking off the guard who reaches for her. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“Leave my sister alone,” Brennan orders, sitting back against the edge of the table. “It’s a family matter.”
“Family? Family doesn’t let each other think they’re dead for six years.” Mira leans against the wall to my right, putting me square between them. “The only family in this room is Violet and me.”
“Mira—” I start.
“Lieutenant Colonel?” Ulices interrupts, pushing through the guards, and this time his eye isn’t narrowed on me.
“Lieutenant Colonel?” Mira’s gaze swings from Ulices to Brennan, and she folds her arms across her chest. “At least playing dead for six years earns you rank.”
Brennan shoots her a look before turning toward Ulices. “I’m fine. Everyone can relax. I’ve had worse injuries sparring.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time I broke his nose.” Mira offers a saccharine-sweet smile to Ulices, whose eye narrows on my sister.
A guard squeezes past Ulices, handing me a piece of cloth wrapped around a thick icicle, and I’ve never loved Ridoc’s signet more. “Thank you,” I tell him. “And tell the same to Ridoc, please.”
“Deploy every rider currently not scheduled to scout the Tyrrish outposts as quietly as possible,” Brennan orders Ulices. “We need to know if other riders are deserting, or if they’re surging here in preparation to strike.”
“With all the extra riders we have,” Ulices mutters.
“Switch.” I issue an order of my own to Brennan, holding out the ice.
“What about the new riot?” Ulices asks. “Same procedure as the cadets’
arrival?”
“Riorson vouches for them, according to Marbh, but make sure the dragons do as well. Get them up to the valley.” Brennan nods, and blood trickles off his chin.
Gross.
“Switch,” I say again, waving the ice so he sees it.
Ulices glances at Mira. “You’re sure—”
“I can handle my own sister,” Brennan assures him.