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He cuts a glare my way before offering a reluctant, “I apologize.”
Her lip settles, her mood seemingly mollified.
I study her scales in the afternoon sun. They’re not black after all, but a shimmering mix of indigo and rose gold, her horns a glossy violet tipped in gold. “You’re beautiful.” Scary as hell, but stunning, nonetheless.
She blinks and brings her head down to meet me at eye level. In her violet irises, I see a reflection of my dress.
On impulse, I reach out and touch her snout with a shaky hand. “Lucretia called you my answer.”
“Answer for what?” Jarek asks.
Caindra’s eyes are piercing as she watches us.
I was thinking about this on the ride here. “If I inherit the Ybarisan throne, I can order Ybaris and Mordain to stand down against Islor and help fight against the Nulling.” It’s the simplest, most straightforward way to keep Ybaris from attacking Islor. It might be the only way.
“That would require killing Neilina, which will be next to impossible, Romeria. She’ll be protected by a wall of Shadows and elemental casters.” He pauses. “Unless we can get this thing to attack her.”
Caindra snarls again.
“Seriously, do you have a death wish?” I reach out to smooth my hand over her snout again. At some point, I released the hold on my affinities, and I only realize it now. “Sorry, he’s an ass, but he protects me well.”
Her nostrils flare and a puff of hot air hits me.
“You saw what she did in Cirilea with the fire,” Jarek pushes. “She could wipe out even Neilina’s strongest fighters.”
“But we need them against the Nulling. No, I need to be the one to do this.”
“Neilina’s casters would kill you before you got close.”
“Maybe not. As far as we know, Neilina still thinks I’m her daughter.” And Gesine seemed to think that the elemental caster on the other end of the taillok might have held back details about what she saw that day Kienen brought it to Ulysede’s gates, that I have allies within Mordain and Ybaris.
My gaze drifts over Caindra’s wings, tucked at her sides. They remind me of a bat’s—webbed and leathery. “If there was a way for Caindra to get us to the rift—”
My words aren’t finished before a clawed foot curls around my body. With a deafening roar, her powerful wings beat the air as we climb into the sky. A scream of terror rips from my lungs.
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
ZANDER
The entrance to the rift’s pass grinds open.
I marvel at the mechanics of the wall as we wait. According to old texts within Cirilea’s library, King Rhionn returned from Ybaris not only with Key Caster Farren but also with several stone casters. He tasked them with building this great gate of sorts to match the one Ybaris built on their end, to keep the Islorians out after the blood curse arrived.
What they produced was almost identical. It’s twenty feet thick and stretches thirty feet on either side of the natural bridge between realms, making it impossible for anyone to navigate around. It reaches a hundred feet high, making it equally impossible to scale over. Even an elven would break every bone in their body were they to jump. Nothing short of an army of casters could destroy this, or perhaps a pyre of wyverns.
The gate itself? Thick, impenetrable rock that works much like the tunnel in Bellcross’s city wall, a puzzle of blocks that shift until an opening appears.
Two spiral staircases on either side give access to the parapet, where watchmen keep an eye on the other side’s activities. They were the ones who sent word that the gate on the other side had opened, bringing us here.
Telor waits beside me. “Are you sure you wish to risk yourself this way? She cannot be trusted to respect the rules of war.”
“No, she cannot. But I would not ask this of anyone else.” And no one here has a chance at standing against Neilina. “My legionaries will join me.” I nod toward Gaellar. “I am sure your commander will appreciate your guidance should something befall me.”
“Nothing shall befall you, Your Highness,” Abarrane says with grim determination, but even she wears a furrowed brow.
“Would you prefer me at your side or remaining here, Your Highness?” Kienen asks.
“It is best she has no idea we have joined alliances yet.”
He dips his head. “Her affinity to Vin’nyla is strong. Do not get too close to her or she can steal the air from your lungs. Within fifteen feet is too close.”
“I have heard the rumors.” It’s times like these when I wish I had been gifted a different affinity at birth. There are always air and earth materials to wield. But access to fire and water is never guaranteed. Still, we improvise. Behind me, several legionaries carry flaming torches, though the afternoon sun is still high in the sky. “Anything else I should know?”
