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Rodriguez apparently had no similar qualms. His head snapped up. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, First Stone Keeper. I wasn’t challenging your position. Though, it sounds to me like you’re rather insecure about your own significance if you must bring it up every time someone speaks within ten paces of you.”

Zaira’s face flushed with fury, and I found myself covering my mouth. “How dare you—”

“Furthermore, stop trying to get me to stay behind,” Rodriguez continued, running right over her outrage and ignoring it. He glanced my way. “There’s no way I’m staying at Bloodwing. You need me.”

“Do we?” Zaira said sarcastically. “You’ve visited the dwarven realm often, have you? You know the path we must follow?”

“I know enough,” Rodriguez said, his jaw tightening. “I’m also a skilled healer and have a deep breadth of historical knowledge. Not to mention, these are my students you’re taking into danger. Unlike you, I feel some concern for their safety.”

Across the court, someone made a snorting sound. I looked over to see Visha, squatting on a bedroll, sharpening a dagger with a whetstone. She was dressed in black leather armor with a heavy red cloak overtop. A belt of blades sat low on her hips. Her violet eyes were on Rodriguez and the Stone Keeper, and her mouth curled in amusement.

“They’re grown adults,” Zaira scoffed. “They don’t need you to protect them. I assure you, Lord Sharma and I have things well in hand.”

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” Rodriguez said quietly. “If one of them should be injured—”

“I’m a healer as well,” Zaira interrupted. “Need I remind you? We do not require a second healer.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Visha muttered. She jumped to her feet, sliding her dagger into its sheath at her belt, and strode toward them.

But Kazmyn beat her to it. Zaira’s brother had been lounging against a pillar. Dark-skinned and handsome in an effortless way, I’d been a little surprised that he and Visha hadn’t immediately been taken with each other. Visha seemed to detest Kazmyn, though he was clearly smitten with her. Kazmyn strolled over, hands in his pockets. The halfborn young man wore a fitted charcoal jacket and a dark green scarf looped carelessly around his neck. His belt was full of small tools and knives that suggested he could pick a lock or stab you, depending on his mood.

“The two of you are adorable, you know,” he remarked. “Truly.”

“Shut up, Kazmyn,” Zaira snapped without looking at her brother.

“No, no. It’s true.” He smiled brightly with the look of someone who knew exactly how annoying he was being. “You both seem absolutely convinced you are personally responsible for keeping all of Sangratha from collapsing.”

Zaira glared at him. “That’s because we are.”

Kazmyn’s grin widened. He glanced my way. “I believe the dragon rider and the dragon might have a larger part to play.”

“No one is claiming they don’t,” Rodriguez said with forced dignity. “Of course Medra and Blake are essential to this endeavor.”

“And yet,” Visha drawled, stepping closer, “somehow we’re all listening to the healers argue loudly about who gets to be the most important.”

Someone coughed. Magda Stonefist was carrying a pack that looked twice the size of mine—yet she bore it like it was nothing. Her beard had been neatly braided and decorated with small bronze rings. Her gaze moved from Rodriguez to Zaira to Visha to Kazmyn. “I certainly hope we don’t have to listen to the four of you squabble the entire time,” she said pointedly. “I’ve taught many generations of students at this school, and I’ll tell you all here and now, I’ll have no qualms about making you march apart—or putting you over my knee if I have to.”

“Really, Magda?” Rodriguez said icily. “We are not children.”

“Then, stop acting like it,” she barked. “We’re all on edge. But we’re a squad.” She pointed at me. “We have a leader—Medra, and she isn’t a dwarf. Best get over that right now, Zaira.”

I colored and cleared my throat. Shit. I wished Blake was here to give the speech for me. “All of you are essential to this journey. We need each one of you.”

I looked around the courtyard at the members of our squad. Our two bickering healers—Zaira and Rodriguez—and Lord Sharma were also to act as strategists and planners. Magda and Kazmyn were our scouts, one far too smug, the other wiser than I thought any of us had yet to realize. Visha was our elegant highblood warrior, but she’d be supported by Blake and me, as well as Hawl and Sebastian Sankara.

I glanced across the courtyard to where Hawl was crouched with their back to us, one paw gently running over something small and orange and purring. The bear had taken one look at Neville and become completely enamored with the fluffin. Now they were acting like the little creature’s personal bodyguard. Considering the dangers we’d be heading into, Neville could do worse than an armored bear as his protector.

The significance of Blake and me forming a squad at Bloodwing to go up against the greatest threat Sangratha had ever known hadn’t slipped past me. Bloodwing Academy had always existed for a purpose: The school was an engine designed to feed the four great houses with highly trained personnel. And in times of war, those houses would take their warriors and healers and scouts and strategists and form them into squads of up to fifty, designed not just for fighting but for function. And then they’d fucking attack one another and struggle for position, power, and land.

We weren’t fighting for any of those things as far as I was concerned. We were fighting to protect the weak, to shield the innocent, to keep this world from crumbling to pieces. All eleven of us. Three highbloods, one blightborn, four dwarves, a fluffin, a bear, and me, a half-fae dragon rider. Had there ever been a more motley crew?

Kazmyn’s dark eyes were bright. “So, are we all going to pretend we’re not terrified and doomed to failure?”

“I am not terrified,” Zaira snapped. “And I do not fail.”

“You’re my sister, and I know when you’re lying,” Kazmyn retorted cheerfully.

Rodriguez gave an awkward laugh. “You two are really quite something.” He shook his head. “I’m not terrified, Kazmyn. But I am … appropriately concerned.”