I stole a glance at him beside me. His face was closed, intense, pinned to the road. I knew the worry he carried. He’d made it clear he would kill the bastard if he found him, but in private, I could hear the doubt—the silent wish that Tallon had fled over the mountains.
It wasn’t weakness, nor love. They hated each other. Yet something lingered between them, a link of sorts. Kallias would defend me without hesitation, slaying anyone who dared bring me harm, but this anticipation—it weighed heavier than any battlefield. Stiff shoulders, spine rigid. He bore it alone. He wouldn’t share it with me.
That night, we slept under the stars. And the next.
Then Sol rose before us.
The Andeluith towered above her sisters. Matalino and Gyrak separated themselves from our caravan, climbing toward the peak. I doubted even they could reach it—the sun glaring off pristine white, air thin at such heights. They banked away from the city. Matalino rolled and dove in a motion that had me pulling the reins to stop.
“Kallias.” The word escaped before the combined roar of bulls reverberated over us, and the dragons dropped from the sky.
“They’re here,” I whispered, squinting at a tiny projectile that had missed Matalino. Small from this distance, but I knew its meaning.
“Ballista,” Kallias groaned. “Circle west! Give the city space to breathe!” he shouted, halting beside me.
The army erupted into organized chaos. Shouts merged with shrill neighs, hoofbeats thundered, Kallias spinning his horse to shout orders into Fallione’s ear.
Dragons hovered overhead, claws just above soldiers’ heads, searching for a place to land beside me.
But Tsunami ignored Ronan, soaring high, circling like a bird, wide above the city.
I gripped my reins tight, horse prancing beneath me. The beasts couldn’t act until we located Tallon and devised a plan. Kallias pointed skyward, bellowing orders for specific battalions. His stallion fought the bit, eyes rolling, the surge of men pressing him forward.
Gyrak roared, then flared his wings. Soldiers scrambled, darting from his outstretched claws. Ronan didn’t wait—he made a landing. One downbeat sent a man tumbling from his horse as the black dragon slammed into the ground. Gyrak’s head snapped to the sky, found Matalino, then clicked deep in his throat, tracking the remaining dragons.
My brother slid down Gyrak’s flank, jogging to us. His gloved hand slapped my knee as he scanned the clouds. “Red bannershang from the city! Ballistas on every level—it’ll be tough to get close!”
“Ground the dragons!” I shouted, voice lost in the chaos. “No dragon flies over Sol until we know where my friend is!”
“We’ll have to burn them out!” Ronan’s jaw pressed firm.
Sol had withstood every siege, never once falling to the Velli. None could breach her. She stood as a fortress carved from granite and white marble. Even if we bathed her in dragonfire, expending every last drop of dragonoil, our men would still have to fight in her streets.
“Do as I say!”
Dyre screamed overhead, high-pitched, calling for guidance. Gyrak barked a roar, tail tucked close, waiting for Ronan.
“Nienna!” Kallias jerked toward me. “To the middle!” He kicked his horse, and I shoved my brother aside.
We surged through a sea of bodies, joining cavalry streams, settling a safe distance from Sol. The army was setting up a protective circle, king and queen at the center.
The scattered rocks at our feet shook as dragons struck the earth, their bellows drowning out the clash of steel and the cries of horses.
Kallias’ stallion slid back on its hocks as he yanked the reins, whirling to face the city. Fallione dropped to the ground, features pale, staring at the towering Andeluith.
Tallon had taken Sol—the impenetrable fortress.
But why?
Chapter Thirty-Six
Kallias
Ipinned down the map, despite knowing we had no hope. There was no way into Sol without traversing the bridges at the foothills. All Tallon had to do was drop them, and all access vanished.
Aside from dragonback.
The city delved deep, burrowing into the mountain like a termite nest in a tree. Dragons could scratch only the surface. They would never fit in the tunnel beneath Clay’s home—and if Tallon held Sol, he had taken the Manor in the Mountains as well.
