The door closed. The fragile lattice of strategy in my mind collapsed. I let out a rough sound of frustration, eyes squeezed tight as if I could trap the pieces before they fell. They slipped anyway, sinking beyond reach.
A breath left me slow and heavy. I dipped my hands into the basin and splashed water over my face. Cold bit into skin, ran down my neck, soaked into my collar. It did nothing to quell the unrest.
It still refused to align.
Nienna’s palms settled on my shoulders. Bittersweet agony pressed into tight muscle, thumbs working along the line of my spine. A low ache flared, then eased beneath her touch. I leaned into her, surrendering to it as she worked out the worst of the knots.
“What is it?” Her breath tickled my ear, warm against damp skin.
“Nothing.” The word felt hollow—because it was true.
The answers were out of reach. There wasn’t anything left to do but wait.
The next day unfolded much the same. Hard riding from dawn until the sky bruised toward evening. We drove the horses until foam laced their bits and their flanks trembled beneath saddle and cinch. Each mile shaved off the distance to the Craggs. I kept my thoughts unfocused. When I focused too long on a problem, I missed what stood before me.
By the time we reached Danesburg, my bones hummed with fatigue.
Ronan crowded into the small council room that night, maps spread across a scarred table. Lanternlight cast sharp shadows along his jaw as he spoke of what we might find at first light, and how best to wield Nienna’s dragons.
“If he reached the Pass of Thousands, we guard it and leave it,” I said. I needed time—space to see the board clearly.
Ronan’s lip curled. “You’re going to let him go.”
“I will not cross the Craggs.” My voice carried no room for argument.
But, as usual, the boy ignored the boundary.
“After what he did to my sister. Your wife.” His palm struck the table, wood rattling beneath the blow. His eyes cut hard as drawn steel. “You’re just letting him run free.”
“I will let him run,” I ground out. “Vellos can deal with him. The dragons are to guard our borders. And Radaan shall be safe from his meddling.”
Uncertainty nagged at me, something uneasy in my bones. There was a falsehood there, a discordant note I could not silence.
“I refuse to send my riders to shield a kingdom too weak to defend itself.”
“They’re not your dragons to command,” Nienna snapped.
Flames flared across his skin in answer. They licked over his knuckles, charring the edge of the map. The sharp scent of smoke curled upward.
“You’re a cowar–”
I lunged. I seized his burning wrist and wrenched him back from the table. Fire leapt to my overcoat as he grabbed my lapel, embers biting through cloth.
My free hand closed around his throat. I drove him into the far wall, away from the curtain and timber. Plaster cracked beneath the impact. “Choose your words with care, boy,” I snarled, inches from his face.
Nienna seethed. “Ronan, you storming fool, the room!”
“Call me a coward,” I said low, tightening my grip, “and you’ll discover whether I truly am.”
He drew a dagger and slashed toward my side.
A ceramic vase shattered against his skull.
Flame vanished in an instant. Embers clung to my jacket as Ronan sagged, eyes rolling back. I released him. His body struck the floor with a dull thud. I brushed at the smoldering cloth, the acrid stink of burned wool rising between us.
“I swear—you two!” Nienna’s fury filled the room.
Outside, a dragon screamed, the sound long and furious. Likely Gyrak.
