Page 155 of Three Dark Kings and the Gilded Serpent

A vow between us. Against each other. For her.

Power floods my Voice as I say, “We may yet be destined to end each other, Vampyr.”

Fangs descending, he replies, “A promise sealed in blood, Lethian.”

A vow that does nothing to assuage the dark question rising within my mind.

Are we fated to betray Thyra?

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Thyra

The farther Nara carries me away from the border, the more my mind clears.

Taking a careful glance back to the north, away from the groups of Ember Fae on the dunes, I acknowledge what I’ve been trying to ignore.

Across the border, my eyesight reveals to me the wooden catapults, whose existence will have been interfering with my power.

The last Oracle vision I had was of Maxim’s mother drawing blood binds onto his arms even as his fire burned her.

If only I could know her motivations and intentions.

The mountain range grows more jagged the farther we travel while the towers along the border behind me become the size of my thumb.

I keep my eye out for the path Miriam described as a lava trail, which will lead to some sort of cascading rock.

Soon enough, I spot a path of what looks like molten stone flowing across the top of the mountain range. At the same time, I’m aware of the Ember Fae out on the dunes dispersing.

Judging that I still have two hours before the sun rises, I urge Nara toward the molten stone, veering sharply left, closer to the eastern edge of the mountain range.

The dusty plains in the east loom beneath dark clouds, the air becoming grittier the closer we get.

Just as we reach the very edge of the cliff where the molten lava trail curves precariously alongside a sheer drop, a rush of wind billows around us, driving Nara back.

She gives me a warning yip a second before the roar of wind blocks my ears and dust obscures my sight, and Nara pulls up sharply to crouch at the edge of this cliff.

The cause of all this wind storms up in front of me.

Eagles. At least thirty of them, their wings beating, their talons ripping the air.

And at their head, soaring over me in a brutal rush⁠—

“Azul!”

At my cry, he banks sharply right, the other birds following him, none of them wearing saddles or carrying riders, all of them flying in unison and keeping close behind him.

“It’s okay, Nara!” I leap from her back, but I stand like a shield in front of her just in case Azul has bloodshed on his mind.

Hurriedly tugging on the hood and cowl that form part of my Ember warrior’s garb, I pull them over my mouth and eyes and brace against the new rush of dusty wind as the birds circle back toward us, keeping to the eastern side of the burned-out cliffs.

Any higher and they could be visible from within Ember. We’re lucky this section of rock isn’t manned with more Ember Towers. The nearest tower is miles south and situated on the next rise of eastern mountains.

Azul shrieks as he lands in a wash of wind, his crimson eyes wilder than I’ve ever seen.

The flock continues to take a wide circle, dipping behind the cliff, keeping out of sight while Azul comes to a stop on the narrow trail and folds his wings to his sides.

The last time I saw him, he was injured in the bloodlands.