In his last days of interrogation, Fen Riorson lost touch with reality, railing against the kingdom of Navarre. He accused King Tauri, and all who came before him, of a conspiracy so vast, so unspeakable, that it does not bear repeating by this historian. The execution was swift and merciful for a madman who cost untold lives.
—Navarre, an Unedited History by Colonel Lewis Markham
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FIVE
Somehow, I manage to keep breathing, which is impressive given my heart feels like it might shatter in a million pieces, and narrow my gaze on the enemy.
I’ve never seen a gryphon rider before. The dragons usually burn them to ash, along with their half-eagle, half-lion mounts.
“What happened to meeting tomorrow? We don’t have a full shipment,” Xaden says to the gryphon rider, his voice calm and even.
“The shipment isn’t the issue,” the woman says, shaking her head. Unlike our black, the riders’ leathers are brown, matching the darker feathers of their beasts…who are currently staring at me like I’m dinner.
“If they try anything, they’ll be a snack,”Tairn says.
Shipment.I barely process what Tairn says through the shock of the rider’s words. And Xaden knows them. He’s working with them, aiding our enemy. Betrayal cuts my throat like glass as I try to swallow. This is why he’s been sneaking off from the quadrant.
“So you were waiting nearby to chat on the off chance that we’d fly by a full day early?” Xaden asks.
“We were patrolling from Draithus yesterday—it’s about an hour southeast from here—”
“I know where Draithus is,” Xaden retorts.
“Never know, you Navarrians act like nothing exists beyond your borders,” the male gryphon rider snarks. “I don’t know why we’re bothering to warn them.”
“Warn us?” Xaden’s head cocks to the side.
“We lost a village in the vicinity to a horde of venin two days ago. They decimated everything.”
I startle, my eyes flying wide. She just said what?
“Venin never come this far west,” Imogen says from my left.
Venin.Yep, that’s what they both said. What the actual hell? I’d think someone was fucking with me if not for the two enormous gryphons looming behind the pair of riders. But no one is laughing.
“Until now,” the woman replies, turning her gaze back to Xaden. “They were unmistakably venin and had one of their—”
“Don’t say anything else,” Xaden interrupts. “You know that none of us can know the details or we put everything at risk. All it takes is one of us being interrogated.”
“Are you getting this?” I ask Tairn, glancing left and right to see if anyone else noticed the pure ridiculousness spewing from the woman’s mouth, but everyone else looks…horrified, like they actually believe a village was destroyed by mythical creatures.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Details or not, it looks like the horde is heading north,” the male says. “Straight toward our trading post on the border across from your garrison at Athebyne. Are you armed?”
“We’re armed,” Xaden admits.
“Then our job here is done. You’ve been warned,” the male says. “Now we have to go defend our people. As it is, this side trip only gives us about an hour to reach them in time.”
Instantly, the atmosphere changes, intensifies, and the riders around me seem to brace for something.
Xaden looks over his shoulder at me, and instead of laughing at the utter absurdity of what they’re discussing, his face is set in grim lines.
“If you think you’ll ever convince a Sorrengail to risk their neck for anyone outside their own borders, then you’re a fool,” the man says with a sneer in my direction.
Power sizzles painfully beneath my skin, demanding an outlet.
The man leans slightly to the side and looks me up and down in obvious judgment. “I wonder what your king would be willing to pay in order to get back the daughter of his most illustrious general. I’m willing to bet your ransom would be worth enough weaponry to defend all of Draithus for a decade.”
Ransom? Oh, I think not.
Tairn snarls.
“Fuck,” Bodhi mutters, moving closer to me.
“Try. I dare you.” I crook my fingers at them, releasing just enough power that light flashes within the clouds above us.
Shadows race menacingly from the pine trees on the edge of the meadow as Xaden raises his hands at his sides, and both gryphon riders tense when the darkness pauses only inches from their feet. “You take a step toward that Sorrengail and you’ll be dead before you can even shift your weight,” Xaden says, his voice dropping lethally. “She’s not up for discussion.”
The woman glances at the shadows, then sighs. “We’ll be there with the rest of our drift. Just signal if you can get away from the disbelievers.” She walks away, leading the man back toward their gryphons.
They mount within seconds and launch skyward.
Every head turns toward me with looks that vary from expectation to something akin to fear, and my stomach sinks. No one was surprised at the gryphon riders’ familiarity or throwing words like “venin” around. And they all knew Xaden was aiding the enemy.
I’m the outsider here.
“Good luck, Riorson.” Imogen tucks a piece of her pink hair behind her ear, her rebellion relic peeking out above the sleeve of her flight leathers as she turns to give us space.
My stomach drops and my mind races, grasping for anything but the obvious, devastating truth as they all slowly follow Imogen back toward the lake.
There’s a rebellion relic winding up a third-year’s forearm as he passes in front of me.
Garrick’s here. He’s a section leader, but he’s…here, not with any of the Flame Section squads. So are Bodhi and Imogen. That brunette rider with the nose ring is Soleil, I think, and that’s definitely a relic on her left forearm. The second-year from Claw Section? He has one, too.
And Liam…Liam is at my side.
“Tairn.” I keep my breathing as even as possible as Xaden stares at me, his face masked like an emotionless wingleader.
“Silver One?”Tairn’s giant head swings in my direction.
“They all carry rebellion relics,”I tell him. “Everyone in this squad besides me is the child of a separatist.” In the chaos of the flight field, Xaden constructed an all-marked squad.
And they’re all. Fucking. Traitors.
And I fell for it.
I fell for him.
“Yes. They are,” he agrees, resignation in his tone.
My chest threatens to cave in as it truly hits me. This is so much worse than just Xaden betraying me, betraying our entire kingdom. There’s only one explanation as to why my own dragons have been so damned docile in the presence of the enemy.
“You and Andarna lied to me, too.”The treachery of it is too much, and my shoulders dip from the weight of it. “You knew what he was doing.”
“We both chose you,”Andarna says, like that makes it any better.
“But you knew.” I look past where Liam dares to stare at me with sorrow, to Tairn, whose lethal focus lies straight ahead like he hasn’t quite decided if he’s going to burn Xaden alive or not.
“Dragons are bound by bonds,” he explains as Xaden approaches. “There is only one other bond more sacred than that of a dragon and its rider.”
A dragon and its mate.
Everyone knew but me. Even my own dragons. Oh gods, is Dain right? Has everything Xaden’s done been a ploy to earn my trust?
The sweet glow of happiness, of love, trust, and affection that burned so brightly in my chest just a few minutes ago sputters painfully, gasping for oxygen like a campfire put out by a bucket of water once it outlives its usefulness. All I can do is watch as the embers drown and die.
Xaden watches me with increasing apprehension the closer he comes, like I’m some kind of cornered animal about to fight her way out with teeth and claws.
How was I ever foolish enough to trust him? How did I ever fall for him? My lungs ache and my heart screams. This can’t be happening. I can’t be this naive. But I guess I am, because here we are. His entire body is a fucking warning, especially the dark relic that’s so glaringly visible on his neck right now. His father may have been the Great Betrayer, may have cost my brother his life, but Xaden’s treachery cuts just as deep.
He flinches as my eyes narrow into a glare.
“Were we ever really friends?” I whisper at Liam, searching for the strength to yell.
“We are friends, Violet, but I owe him everything,” Liam answers, and when I glance up, he’s watching me with so much misery that I almost feel sorry for him. Almost. “We all do. And once you give him a chance to explain—”
There it is. Anger rushes to my aid, overpowering the hurt.
“You watched me train with him!” I shove at Liam’s chest, and he stumbles backward through the grass. “You stood by and watched me fall for him!”
“Oh shit.” Bodhi laces his hands behind his thick neck.
“Violence, let me explain,” Xaden says. He’s always known my true nature, and honestly, the shadows should have clued me in to his. He’s a master of secrets.
Unspent power ripples in my very bones as I turn my back on Liam to face Xaden. “If you even think about touching me, I swear I’ll fucking kill you.” My power flares with my rage and lightning cracks across the sky, jumping from cloud to cloud.
“I think she means it,” Liam warns.
“I know she does.” Xaden’s jaw ticks as our gazes collide and hold. “Everybody, go back to the shore. Now.”
He watches me with apprehension as he draws closer.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Xaden says in that deceptively soft voice of his, and there’s a flicker of fear in those onyx depths.
“You have no idea what I’m thinking.” Fucking. Traitor.
“You’re thinking I’ve betrayed our kingdom.”
“Logical guess. Good for you.” Another bolt of lightning whips free, streaking cloud to cloud. “You’re working with gryphon riders?” I leave my arms loose at my sides just in case I need my hands free to wield, though I know I’m no match for him. Not yet. “Gods, you are such a cliché, Xaden. You’re a villain hiding in plain fucking sight.”
He winces. “Actually, they’re called fliers,” Xaden says softly, holding my gaze. “And I might be the villain to some, but not you.”
“I’m sorry? Are we seriously arguing the semantics of your treason?”
“Dragons have riders, and gryphons have fliers.”
“Which you know because you’re in league with them.” I retreat a few steps so I don’t act on the overwhelming urge to punch him in the face. “You’re working with our enemy.”
“Did you ever once stop to think that sometimes you can start out on the right side of a war and end up on the wrong one?”
“In this particular case? No.” I point toward the shore. “I was trained as a scribe, remember? All we’ve done is defend our borders for six hundred years. They’re the ones who won’t accept peace as a solution. What shipments have you been giving them?”
“Weapons.”
My stomach hits the ground. “That they use to kill dragon riders?”
“No.” He shakes his head emphatically. “These weapons are only to fight venin.”
My jaw unhinges. “Venin are the stuff of fables. Like the book my father—” I blink. The letter. What had he written? Folklore is passed from one generation to the next to teach us about our past.
Was he trying to say… No. That’s impossible.
“They’re real,” Xaden says softly, like he’s trying to lessen a blow.
“You’re saying people who can somehow tap into the source of magic without a dragon or gryphon to channel, corrupting their power beyond all salvation, actually exist.” I say the words slowly just so we’re crystal clear. “They’re not just part of the creation fable.”
“Yes.” His forehead creases. “They drained all the magic out of the Barrens and then spread like an infestation.”
“Well, at least that’s in keeping with folklore.” I fold my arms across my chest. “What was the fable again? One brother bonded to gryphon, one to dragon, and when the third grew jealous, he drew directly from the source, losing his soul and waging war on the other two.”
“Yes.” He sighs. “This was not how I wanted to tell you.”
“Assuming you were ever going to tell me!” I glance to where Tairn watches, his head low as though he might have to incinerate Xaden at any moment. “Care to add to the discussion?”
“Not yet. I’d prefer you come to your own conclusion. I chose you for your intelligence and courage, Silver One. Don’t let me down.”
I barely restrain myself from flipping the middle finger at my own dragon.
“Fine. Were I to believe venin exist and roam the Continent wielding dark magic, then I’d also have to believe they never attack Navarre because…” My eyes widen at the possibility’s logical conclusion. “Because our wards make all non-dragon magic impossible.”
“Yes.” He shifts his weight. “They’d be powerless the second they cross into Navarre.”
Fuck, that makes sense, and I desperately don’t want it to. “Which means I would have to believe that we have no clue that Poromiel is being relentlessly, viciously attacked by dark wielders just beyond our borders.” My brow furrows.
He glances away and takes a deep breath before looking me in the eye. “Or you have to believe that we know and choose to do nothing about it.”
Indignation lifts my chin. “Why the hell would we choose to do nothing about people being slaughtered? It goes against everything we stand for.”
“Because the only thing that kills venin is the very thing powering our wards.”
He doesn’t say anything else as we stand there, the only sound the water lapping against the shore in time with the echo of his words beating against the edges of my heart.
“Is this why there have been raids along our borders? They’re looking for the material we use to power our wards?” I ask. Not because I believe him, not yet, but because he’s not trying to convince me. The truth rarely needs effort, my dad used to say.
He nods. “The material is forged into weapons to fight the venin. Here, take this.”
Raising his right arm, he takes a black-handled dagger from the sheath at his side. I’m brutally aware of every move, horrifyingly aware that he’s been able to kill me whenever he wants, and this moment is no different. Though it would have been a swifter death if he’d simply used one of the swords strapped across his back. He moves slowly, extending the dagger as an offering.
I take it, noting the sharpened blade, but it’s the alloy embedded into the rune-marked hilt that makes me gasp. “You took this from my mother’s desk?” My gaze jumps to his.
“No. Your mother probably has one for the same reason you should. To defend against venin.” There’s so much pity in his eyes that my chest tightens.
The dagger. The raids. It’s all right there.
“But you told me there was no chance we could be fighting something like this,” I whisper, clinging to the last of my hope that this is all a horrible joke.
“No.” He moves closer, reaching for me and then dropping his hand as if he’s thought better of it. “I told you I would hope that if this threat was out there, our leadership would tell us.”