My eyes flick down to the baby in my arms, and for a moment, the world narrows to just her. I watch her breathe—the tiny rise and fall of her chest, the flutter of her pulse in her throat, the way her small wings twitch in her sleep. So vulnerable. So precious. So completely dependent on me to keep her safe.
When I look up again, my eyes have hardened.
“How do you want to handle it?” Klauth tilts his head to the right—a gesture I’ve learned means I have his full, undivided attention. The Dragon King is listening.
“Feed false information to random people.” The strategy crystallizes in my mind as I speak, each word building on the last. “See what happens to narrow it down.” My eyes flick over to Thauglor. “So far, I can speak mind-to-mind with Thauglor, and he can speak to you, Klauth. That’s how we’ll share important information from now on. Or using Xero.”
I look at my two mates standing beside me—Corvus with his war drake’s calculating gaze, Solaris with his amber eyes still soft from the earlier vulnerability.
“I can also talk to Solaris mind-to-mind.” I reach out and rest my free hand on Corvus’s arm, feeling the warmth of his skin through his sleeve. “My other mates I can connect with through direct contact.”
I let the information hang in the air for a few minutes, watching my dads process it. The implications are significant—a secure communication network that no spy can intercept, no matter how deeply embedded.
“It makes sense, come to think of it.” Thauglor paces, his movements restless with building energy. The claws on the tops of his wings click against each other as he thinks—a sound I’ve heard my entire life, a sound that means his brilliant mind is working through a problem. “You suspected one of the teachers after you hatched when Mina was a student.”
He stops in front of Klauth, and something passes between them—some shared memory, some old wound reopened.
“We never figured out who it was.” Klauth’s voice is heavy with decades-old frustration. “Then again, that attack when I hatched couldn’t have been pulled off by one insider.”
My blood runs cold.
The sensation starts at the base of my spine and spreads outward, raising goosebumps along my arms despite the warm evening air.That level of attack takes planning. That takes resources. That takes multiple people working in perfect synchronization.
“Mom told me about the day you hatched.” I adjust Nova in my arms, holding her closer, as if proximity alone can protect her from threats that existed before she was born. “I agree—to be that coordinated is more than a one-person job.”
I look around, find a stick lying in the grass, and crouch down. The earth is soft beneath my knees, slightly damp from recent rain. I draw a basic map of the school in the dirt, the lines rough but recognizable.
“My guess would be a minimum of three people involved to coordinate everything.”
I point to the section representing Shadowcarve; the stick leaving a dark mark in the soil. “Someone here to tell my grandfather that Mom was there.”
I feel the woman in question approach—Mina’s presence is familiar, comforting, tinged with the floral scent she always wears. She stops just behind me, close enough to hear, and I continue explaining without turning around.
I point to the location of the dungeons next; the stick dragging through the dirt. “Someone to not only unlock the dungeon but abduct Leander. Someone had to be keeping an eye on him and his movements.”
The picture is forming now, dark and ugly and undeniable.
“Then, third, someone tracking Vaughn to know when he returned—to send his assailants in after him.” I point to Malivore, completing the triangle of betrayal.
The longer I focus on the drawing, the faster clarity finds me. The scattered pieces are aligning, clicking into place like a lock accepting the right key.
“Minimum of three people.” I stare at the crude map, my sapphire eyes tracing the lines, the distances, the logistics. “My gut says four.”
I bite my bottom lip, tasting the faint copper of blood where my fangs catch the skin. Four spies. Four traitors. Four people who have been working against my family for longer than I’ve been alive.
“I think ye’re onto something.” Solaris wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me against him, his warmth seeping into my side. Nova makes a soft sound at the jostling, then settles again. “So, are we looking for staff members or students? The students from Mina’s time are long graduated.” He pauses, and I feel him stiffen slightly as a new thought strikes him. “Do they have children enrolled now?”
The question hits like a sledgehammer.
Generations of spies. Families of traitors. The conspiracy isn’t just old—it’s hereditary. Passed down like a dark inheritance, woven into bloodlines, embedded so deeply it’s become part of the institution itself.
“We’re going to have to look into that when we go back in on Monday.” Klauth’s smile is forced, not quite reaching his ancient eyes. He spread his arms wide, herding us back toward the stairslike a shepherd guiding his flock. “Let’s return to the others and enjoy our time with our families.”
But my mind is still moving a million miles a minute as we walk.
Who were the original people who were after Mom? How many of them are still at the school? How many spies do both nests have? The questions spiral through my consciousness, each one spawning a dozen more. The puzzle is vast; the pieces scattered across decades and continents, and I’ve only just seen its edges.
“Raven?”
