Page 190

“Not enough,” Hawl rumbled. They eyed me. “Now that you are here, they will likely kill me.”

I’d thought of that already, too. “We’re not as helpless as they might think.” I closed my eyes for a moment—taking stock of the sensation that had begun the moment I knew Orcades was gone. A strange feeling, like a rising current. A pulse in my blood. A hum under my skin. Whatever you wanted to call it, I felt something.

My mind went to Rodriguez and his stupid prophecy. I’d rolled my eyes when he’d claimed it was about me, but now I wondered. My blood was one of the things needed to reach the eggs—not dragon’s blood, mine.

“What are you thinking, little cub?” Hawl said.

“I’m thinking,” I said slowly, “that Rodriguez is going to be absolutely unbearable if we get out of this alive.”

The bear gave a great rumbling laugh that shook the tent. “Is that a pun?”

I smiled and lifted my wrists.

Chapter 63

BLAKE

Blood sprayed hot across my face as the Mortis boy I’d been fighting stared down at his chest, then dropped. I yanked my sword free and stepped back, breathing hard. Around me the cavern rang with the sounds of shouting and clashing steel.

Mortis had chosen the location for their camp well—a defensible spot up on a high flat ledge surrounded by tall pillarlike crags. But in every other way they were fools. After all, they’d thought baiting Pendragon was a good idea. They were losing now—and quickly. Half the tents around me had collapsed, the bright red and white canvas slashed and trampled.

I scanned quickly, checking on the rest of my squad. Visha was moving in a blur of silver, her daggers slicing viciously as she cut through two Mortis students who had come at her from either side. Sankara was near her, fighting like a fucking siege engine. His battle-ax rose and fell in beautiful, brutal arcs, every swing forcing those around him to give up space and move back. I didn’t see Kazmyn, but I had no doubt the rogue bastard was fine.

We’d left Rodriguez with Zaira at our new base camp; the scholar and the Stone Keeper weren’t warriors. Besides, when we’d gotten past the third ward, Neville had come racing toward us, his little pink tongue lolling out happily. I took his arrival as a good sign. The fluffin wasn’t stupid. If Pendragon and Hawl were dead, I didn’t think he’d look so happy.

Still, intelligent creature or not, we’d decided Neville’s time of running free was temporarily at an end. We’d tied him up back at camp for now. When we’d left, he’d been howling sadly at Rodriguez.

The third ward … I’d thought things were going to get easier, but it had been the most brutal of all, albeit the simplest. Zaira had looked ill when she read the inscription aloud. We’d thought there had to be another way. But there wasn’t.

A Mortis student suddenly came at me shrieking with what I think was supposed to be a battle cry. I met him head on. He had a spear—which was a bad choice in close quarters, especially as he didn’t really know how to use it. I knocked it aside, then drove my shoulder into his chest hard enough to send him reeling. He was so young, maybe a Third Year. His eyes were wild, and he was drenched in sweat. I almost felt sorry for him, but then my heart hardened. He’d probably volunteered to come. And he’d had a chance to change his house—Pendragon had offered everyone that much.

He slashed a knife at my face, and I grabbed his wrist, twisting it until the bone snapped. He screamed. I shoved him backward, ripped the knife from his hand, and buried it in his throat. He dropped to his knees, choking out on his own blood. I saw the shock in his eyes, and I knew what he must be thinking. We were highbloods; we were supposed to be practically immortal. Yet here he was, dying in a dwarven cave. I kicked him onto his back and left him there.

“Blake!” Visha’s voice.

I spun around. Silvio Santos had leaped up onto a rise of broken rock behind me. His fangs were bared in a cocky grin that made my pulse spike. Golden skin—that was soon going to be bleeding. Square jaw—that would be shattered once I got my hands on him. Hands—that were still intact, but not for long.

“Well, Drakharrow,” he called to me. “You finally caught up.”

I started toward him. Another Mortis student got in my way, and I cut them down without even seeing their face. Another came at me from the side. Sankara was suddenly there, his ax swinging, taking their head off before I even had to turn.

“Go.” Sankara clapped me on the shoulder briefly. “We’ve got this.”

I didn’t waste my breath answering. Silvio jumped off his little rock. He stood in a ring of stone columns. He’d clearly picked the spot intentionally. “Where is she?”

He laughed as I approached. “The devoted highblood husband.”

“We have the fluffin,” I said conversationally.

Silvio’s eyes widened. He hadn’t known that—not until now. Then his eyes narrowed. “You’ve got the fluffin. But it was my name Medra was screaming as I fucked her.”

My vision blurred with white-hot rage. “You’re going to regret ever saying her name.” Scales started spreading across my skin. I fought them back. If I shifted here, in this small space, I could wind up crushing friends and foes alike. I couldn’t risk it, no matter how much Santos deserved a taste of my dragon fire. Besides, I knew he had to be lying. Wasn’t he? Fear pricked at my heart. If he’d dared to hurt her like that …

“She wept for you,” Santos said, dancing backward. He feigned tears. “Poor girl. Shame you weren’t there.”

I froze for half a heartbeat. And then, I saw her. On the far side of the camp, where the cavern wall curved inward into a new tunnel, she was there with Hawl beside her. Red hair tangled and wild, face streaked with blood, but very much alive. Alive and angry and beautiful. Relief hit me so hard my knees nearly buckled. Then my eyes widened. My girl was fighting all right—and what I saw her fighting with made my mind spin. Her hands were raised and fire was erupting from them in a steady stream. I wasn’t sure what was going on exactly. Medra mentioned to me once that she lost all her powers when she crash-landed in Sangratha. At the time, I figured she meant that she had some kind of higher social status in her homeland, but seeing these literal flames coming from her as naturally as fire pours from my jaws in dragon form, I suddenly realized she wielded more magic as fae than I ever considered.

“That’s my girl,” I muttered under my breath. Then I turned to face Silvio with a laugh on my lips. “You fucking liar.” The bastard was slipping away between two pillars. I cut across his path. “Oh no. You don’t get to leave. Do you remember what I told you?” I asked, advancing slowly, my voice dangerously soft.