Kozu followed close behind.
As the cliffs drew nearer, Sorrow started upward, as if making a dash for the summit, when a flash of light and heat temporarily blinded Safire. She cried out at the same time Kozu roared, and then they were half falling, half banking away from the lightning strike.
Safire wrapped her arms hard around Sorrow’s neck, closing her eyes as she clung on.
Suddenly, she was thrown forward. There was a crash of showering rocks and red sand as Sorrow tried to land on a precipice that was proving to be too fragile to hold him. Kozu landed farther up, on even less stable ground.
In a moment, they’d have to dive back toward the sea. But Safire could see the top of the cliffs from here, shrouded in mist. She knew the dragons wouldn’t get her any closer than this.
Letting go of Sorrow, she swung her legs over and slid down the dragon’s scaly hide.
“Saf!” Asha cried out.
Her feet hit the ground, which trembled and shook beneath her as more rock slid out from under her.
“Find somewhere safer to land!” Safire called back, ducking beneath Sorrow’s flapping wings and carefully beginning to scale this crumbling precipice, heading for higher and more solid ground. “I’m going up there!”
She contemplated the gap between this quickly dissolving outcropping and the large solid-looking rock beyond it. As more stones fell to the water below, she didn’t look down. Just threw all her weight into a jump.
Her feet landed firmly. Turning, she saw Sorrow leaping into the rain, while Kozu remained behind, massive wings beating.
“You need a weapon!” Asha called into the rain, unbuckling something at her belt. “Take this!”
The silver sheath of the Skyweaver’s knife winked as Asha tossed it through the air. Safire caught the cold, eerie blade inboth hands, then secured it to her belt. When she looked back, Asha glanced over her shoulder as Kozu dived into the mist below.
Safire turned and ran for the summit. As the lightning flashed around her, she carved her way through the trees. When the woods opened up and the ground leveled out, she saw them. Or rather: saw the shining silver blade, gripped in the hands of the empress.
Eris knelt before a stone slab, chained to the rock like some kind of sacrifice.
A whole meadow stood between them. And into that meadow, stepping between Safire and Eris, were a dozen Lumina soldiers, all drawing their weapons.
Her heart beat fast and hard in her lungs. She knew she couldn’t get to Eris in time. Knew she couldn’t get to Eris at all.
“Eris!” Her voice battled the wind and rain as she drew the Skyweaver’s knife. It wasn’t a throwing knife, but that didn’t matter.
Despite the wind and rain, despite the distance across that meadow, Eris looked up.
She saw her.
The empress saw her, too. Safire heard Leandra give a command. Saw the soldiers start toward her. But Safire’s eyes were on Eris. She squeezed the hilt of the Skyweaver’s knife hard in her hand.
And then she threw it.
Forty-Eight
The Skyweaver’s knife landed right next to Eris, the blade stuck halfway into the dirt.
The moment before Safire called her name, she’d already succumbed to despair. No matter what she did, they were going to take her hands. Going to watch her die here, at the top of the scarps. Why bother fighting anymore?
But then Safire called her name. And Eris looked up.
And everything changed.
With the knife in the dirt beside her, Eris now had what she needed to set the Shadow God free.
She just had no way to get to him.
The spindle is unnecessary,her mother had told her.
