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“I think you’re wrong,”Jaxus said from where he sat. “I think they need to go…and I think I need to go with them.”
“Excuse me?” the elder challenged.
Jaxus stood when addressed, hands clasped behind his back. A military stance if I ever saw one.“Forgive my intrusion, but I believe you are wrong.”
“Go on,” she said calmer than the Regent would have been under the same disrespect, which impressed me.
“Nyx is of the Asra line.”
Brows were raised. I had not known that would hold any significance in this place.
“He tells me he will take command of the dragons of all Twelve Kingdoms when he returns. I have spoken with him at length, and while he cannot change the ways of the fae overnight, with help, he could make the necessary changes within the ranks of the legions who will face the battles ahead. He is the right dragon to be in command. They cannot win this war without him, and if the Twelve Kingdoms fall, we will eventually, too. I think he is needed at their helm to win this war, and we need to know the threat against us.”
“How will going with him help?” a male from the end of the row demanded.
“How else will we know what we face?” Jaxus stood firm in his conviction.
“We do not need to know the details of a war that’s not ours!” The male stood, knocking over his chair.
“With respect, I believe our future could depend on his success. The undead have been gone for centuries. Who knows what armies they have amassed in that time? If the kingdoms are turned, our forces would never be a match. We are at risk, too.” Jaxus believed it—I could hear it in his voice. “Any who go can swear the blood oath as well. Would you not risk a few for the sake of our entire population?”
Glances were exchanged, and then the elders stood and drew into a huddle. The head elder cast her arm over the group, and to my astonishment, their murmuring was silenced.
“Concealment magic,” Jaxus told us.
They spoke at length, some more animated than others, but after a few long minutes, they retook their seats. Their faces gave nothing away, and I held my breath and Zaria’s hand.
The head elder addressed Jaxus. “If you feel so strongly, will you volunteer to go with him?”
I rocked back. Was this happening?
“I will,” Jaxus said without hesitation.
“Put together a team. You and two others. Choose wisely, Jaxus. As soon as Nyx’s wings are healed, all will swear the blood oath, and may the Goddess grant good flight.”
It was over with her words, and the elders left the small hall.
I turned to Jaxus in absolute disbelief.
FIFTY-EIGHT
NYX
The fire pit in the village was the center of the celebration. My wings were healed, and I could fly. Emrys’ family cooked us a feast in celebration, and we ate while sitting around the fire, telling stories.
Jaxus had chosen his two with him—Augustus and Xavi, who had aided me today in testing my wings. I figured any dragon I could trust with my safety in the air, I could trust in battle.
We had all sworn a blood oath before the council that afternoon, and we would depart the hidden valley at first light, so this was our farewell.
Jaxus and Zaria were deep in conversation. Fire burned in my veins every time Jaxus leaned toward her. I kept seeing it, and I knew he was pushing me deliberately.
I glared him down to no avail; he only had eyes for my Sol.
“What’s wrong?” Zaria asked, slipping into my mind.
“Nothing.”
She looked sideways, her eyes telling me she wasn’t fooled.
