Page 81 of Ashen Wings

“Right, but during that time, the continent is drained of its magic, the bond between rider and dragon is suppressed, and the veil between our world and Morvayne’s thins.”

“Okay, but why is unsealing the Ashborne tomb such a risk?” I ask. Either I’m an idiot or these three are withholding something big. After the last two days, I’m learning either are probable options.

“When we die, our souls pass into Morvayne’s court to face final judgement—either an eternity of peace in Solara or of agony in the ten hells of Nulith. Yet some refuse it. They linger in our world, bound to the blood moon’s cycle, waiting for a chance to return.” Jace brings the glass to his lips. “The Ashborne tomb stands as their purgatory, there are runes etched in its stones that seal the only gateway between us and them.”

My shoulders tense. “Oh.”

“Between us and blood-ravenous dead riders, you mean.” Roe scoffs, picking her nails.

“Now you see the problem, starling.” Jace takes another sip of his whiskey. “If we unseal it, we risk letting the worst of the dead cross back over.”

“We don’t have another choice. Either we unseal the tomb and risk a few wraiths coming back or we lose our chance at the guardian rising again. The decision is clear,” Isra says. Jace sighs like an exhausted parent.

“You still haven’t told me what it is Sea really wants. You know, the secret plan A?” My gaze jumps between Isra and Jace, now exchanging silent glances.

“Plan A is a non-option and not up for discussion,” Jace says.

“Then plan B it is.” Isra claps his hands together and paces to the windows.

“The Blightfangs won’t ever agree to this,” Jace snarls. “They’d rather the continent burn than unleash those soulless riders.”

“Surely, they’d understand. Tenebris can explain the stakes of the matter.” I scrutinize every little crease of Jace’s features.

“I cannot ask that of him. There’s more at stake than the circlet. If he were to go to the other Blightfangs, suggesting we defy Morvayne’s will, they could exile him. He risks not raising his hatchlings with Niaxa, and they’ve waited so long for a clutch of eggs,” Jace says.

Isra tips his chin to the doorway, now ajar. A gentle breeze rustles through the study that sends a cold chill up my arms. “There’s no harm in trying.”

“Tenebris wouldn’t ever agree.” Jace slings his merciless tone of command toward us.

“Tenebris doesn’t answer to any human, nor does he appreciate being spoken for in his absence.” A slim figure appears in the open doorway. Tenebris saunters in, claws curled at his sides and fangs bared. “A meeting in the war room without me, rider?”

“Bris, I⁠—”

The dragon raises a slender index finger, silencing the once mighty king with a simple gesture. “I’ll speak with the others. If they agree, we will retrieve the circlet.”

A satisfied smirk curls on my lip before I can suppress it. With only a finger, the dragon commands Jace like he’s a child. Fuck, if only I had the same ability maybe I wouldn’t have found my way into this mess.

Jace’s jaw ticks.

“Do not be foolish enough to make assumptions. If you seek my help, all you have to do is ask for it, rider,” Tenebris says. The dragon takes a seat beside me, his thigh mere inches from mine. “The Blightfangs will agree this is of the utmost importance. Pack for your mission, I’ll give you their answer in a few hours.”

By noon, we’ve packed and received a response from the Blightfangs. While the proposition was met with some grumbles of apprehension, Tenebris assured us their decision was unanimous. Retrieve the circlet, offer it to King Mercora, and secure a crossing authorization.

Now the flying armor, freshly delivered from Jace’s tailor, holds my waist a bit too tightly, the fabric a bit too rough against my skin. A quick glance at my reflection staring back at me from the fountain, is one I barely recognize.

Midnight leather molds to every curve. My hair, now plaited down my back, gleams pure silver in the daylight. I’ve never allowed the color to be this vibrant, this free of dye. A part of me relishes in the straight strands following the curve of my jaw, but another part hates them.

“We’ll fly to the peak together. Roe, Is, you ready for this?” Jace looks to the Jadetail curled beside Tenebris, now back in his dragon form.

“You’re lucky you weigh less than a mouse, little viper, or you’d be hiking,” Isra says, nudging Roe with an elbow.

“Oh please, Is. I’ve had enough of your intolerable jokes already today,” she says.

Roe scratches under Serelyn’s chin in an almost endearing show of affection. “Besides, Sera and I are old friends, aren’t we?”

The dragon snorts and cranes her neck, allowing Roe a better angle. My throat dries when Sera’s eyes lock on mine.

Daylight sparkles in her citrine gaze, like fractured crystals. Jadetails are said to have been born from the eternal storms circulating on the surface of our neighboring planets, and watching her glorious eyes, I believe it. Her scales weave down tucked wings and a long, jagged spine.