The dragon shuddered, but obeyed, curving to give me a better vantage—without carrying me toward the battle.
The radiance flashed again, then vanished as a dragon passed overhead. Panic coiled through me. Were they blocking him somehow?
“Get the dragons away from him!” I pointed to where Kallias should be. I didn’t understand his power—or his god—but I needed him safe.
“Your Majesty–”
“I saidget them–”
“Nienna Draconis, I swear—! Let me land!” Mikal wrenched his whole body, seating me firmly in front of him.
Elmo followed his movement with a growl of displeasure, diving for the camp.
“I’ll fly straight back and keep them away!” His voice rang in my ears.
I bit my lip, tasting blood. For now, I was a distraction, keeping my dragons from aiding the fight.
The landing was jarring. Claws gouged trenches through the soil as Elmo skidded to a halt. I wrenched free of Mikal, stumbling down the beast’s leg. My foot caught, and I fell to my knees but flung an arm back toward him.
“Go!”
Elmo’s roar shredded the sky as he surged upward. A man ran to me, hands clamped over his ears, doubling over before offering a rough hand.
“Your Majesty! Your neck!”
I glanced down at my dress. White now marred with scarlet—not another’s blood, but my own.
Freya burst from between the tents, skin pale as ash. “Nienna! Dragons above, what happened?”
I accepted the man’s aid and rose, fingers brushing at the wound. “Take me to the healer’s tent. I need to get cleaned up.”
“You’re well? It’s not deep?” Her shaking touch cupped my cheeks, eyes wide with horror.
“Now, Freya!”
She seized my hand, and we hurried through the tents, entering a pristine space lined with empty cots. A man in black robes froze, color draining from his face as he hurried toward us.
“Your Majesty! Sit, sit!” He was older, balding, a halo of gray hair crowning his head.
Stifled gasps filled the air as I perched on a cot, pressing my mantle chains flat. My breath came fast; hands trembled with lingering adrenaline. Even so, I needed to set my sights on Kallias.
I had to see Elohios’ blessing with my own eyes—to know his god had not abandoned him.
“Water, quickly!” The healer barked, and a young boy darted forward with a cloth and pitcher.
I held still as they dabbed at the torn flesh, the gash trailing from cheek to neck. Pain registered at last, hot and bright, piercing through the fog of panic.
“We’ll need to remove your mantle,” the older man said, dipping his chin. “Perhaps your tent would be better suited–”
Distant cries of soldiers pierced the air, and I scanned the small space. Soon it would be flooded with men far more wounded than I. Shaking my head, I fumbled with the mantle’s links.
“You’ll be needed here,” I said, voice hardening at the edges. “See to my wound—then I’ll be on my way.”
Freya pressed her lips tight, withholding comment as she helped me slip off the mantle and set it beside me. She loosened the laces of my dress, tugging it just enough for the healer to reach the cut trailing along my collarbone.
Tallon’s hands had been jittery, as if still new to his power. My stomach recoiled at the memory of him manipulating my blood in the negotiation tent. That phantom tickle lingered beneath my skin, vile and unwelcome.
The healer tilted my head to the side as the first soldier was brought in. I forced the horror down, listening to his screams and the healers’ murmurs.
