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“Even if it is, this is our best hope.” Zander looks on from beside me at the gate, his horse readied for him to join shortly. The legionaries sit on their horses, waiting.
“How much longer, Gesine?” Zander asks. “I cannot wait here all night.”
“It is almost here.” Her gaze scours the sky as she shares the taillok’s vision.
I search above as well, but not for the messenger bird. “Any sign of the dragon?” It would be hard for a creature that size to hide.
Horik shakes his head. “No one has seen a hint of it since last night.”
“It has likely flown back into the rift.” Zander smooths a hand over my shoulder. “Either way, you should be safe in here.”
“I’m not worried about me.”
“There!” Gesine points at a shimmering body sailing through the air, before abruptly diving. With a single warning screech that makes us all cringe, the taillok lands at her feet. It stands still as Gesine unfastens the letter attached to its leg. She hands it to Zander.
Zander stares at the seal—his seal—a long moment before snapping it open. His jaw tenses as he reads it.
“What does it say?”
He hands it to me without a word.
Looking forward to our next game of draughts. Atticus.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“That he will never trust anything you say.”
I grit my teeth. “There’s a war coming. We’re trying to help him, and he’s still hung up on that?” I wave the letter, anger flaring. “And I did not sleep with him!”
Horik’s bushy eyebrows pop.
I sigh, trying to calm my frustration. “Your brother is an idiot.”
Zander’s mouth twitches. “Yes, he is. But we have honored Islor with our attempt to aid him. Now, his mistakes are his own.”
Gesine guides the taillok into its cage and pulls the cloth over, then sighs heavily. “Thank the fates that is over for now.” She rubs her temple as if a headache pains her.
“I expect the taillok to find me at the second dawn with an update from Romeria,” Zander declares, “and I will swiftly send a message in return.”
“I will ensure it arrives safely to you. Now, I have found an entire section in the library on mythical beasts, so if you have no other need for me, I will bid you farewell, Your Highness.” She bows and then meets Zander’s eyes. “Stay safe, and perhaps we will meet again.”
He watches the caster as she glides away, but I can’t read that look. She’s been at our side every day since we met her in the apothecary, and he’s expressed every emotion for her from open hostility to tepid alliance, but never trust. Given her connection to Mordain, that may be forever a lost cause.
“The queen will be safe within these gates. On my honor,” Jarek promises, offering Zander a curt bow before stepping away. Horik, Zorya, and Loth follow his lead, giving us space to say our goodbyes.
The painful knot in my throat flares as I reach for Zander’s hand, squeezing it. “The taillok will be there in two mornings. Promise you will be too.”
“With everything in my power, I will be there.” He pulls my body into his in a rare show of public affection. “If you learn of anything from Lucretia, however insignificant it may seem, share it with me.”
“I will.”
He leans down until our foreheads touch, his jaw clenching. “You dwell not only in my every waking thought but also in my dreams. And we will see each other again, soon.”
Tears slip and I don’t bother to wipe them away. Let Abarrane mock me if she dares. “You will see me again. In, like, three days, when I learn how to fly.”
His chuckles break the tense moment, and then his mouth crashes into mine, abandoning all his kingly decorum to kiss me deeply.
I cling to his shoulders and savor the taste and feel of his tongue against mine for as long as I can, until he tears his mouth free and pulls away, stepping back.
Our fingertips are the last to touch.
And then he’s in his saddle and his horse is cantering away to join the others.
My tears flow freely as I watch the small company ride off, Elisaf and Abarrane at Zander’s flanks, and I feel like part of my heart is riding off with them. The part that keeps me alive.
A dull whack against the back of my knees has me howling and spinning around, fury twisting my features. “What?”
“Come on.” Jarek twirls his blade. “Time to train.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
AGATHA
“A secret city in Islor’s mountains.” Allegra repeats my words.
“Yes. That is what the taillok saw.”
Her eyes flare, but she tempers her shocked expression, glancing around to ensure no one is listening. We’re high in the parapets, with a bird’s-eye view of Nyos and the port below, where the ships prepare passage of our casters to join Ybaris’s war. “Okay, tell me what Yesenia saw.”
