“Maybe not,” she said, voice like flint and grit. “But Ibetwe can send you to the healerstogether.”
Remy glanced at her hand, and the blade she was so clearly willing to draw.
Ferrula was Dirian.
And Dirians didn’t bluff.
The silence stretched taut between them, between all of us, until the wind shifted through the courtyard again and Kaelith huffed behind me, her breath like smoke and warning.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
The weight of the previous evening still clung to me like ash, thick and inescapable. I’d fallen into bed the night before without a word, curling into the stiff cot and letting the exhaustion drown everything else. Not just from the assassin. Or Remy’s interrogation. Or the dragons posturing like war was already at our doorstep.
But fromallof it.
When I woke, my limbs still ached, but it was dulled now—quiet and manageable. More than that, though, no one in my squad had asked for answers. Not Riven, who handed me my tea without comment. Not Jax, who sat beside me on the bench and cracked a joke about Cordelle losing his quill again. Not Ferrula, who simply nodded at me as we passed swords in the practice yard.
Theyknewsomething had happened.
And still… they waited.
That was loyalty. Not demanded—but earned.
As we made our way to our assigned spots, the wind cut through the field in steady bursts, dragging clouds across the sky like cloaks being pulled off by the sun. Kaelith was perched highabove on one of the craggy spires of the cliffs. Silent, butpresent. Hein sat beside her, unmoving.
But what caught my eye, even before the major’s voice, were the two shadows standing on the balcony tower overlooking the grounds.
Theron. And Inderia.
Watching.
Their posture said everything. He stood tall, arms behind his back like a conquering prince surveying his pawns. Inderia at his side, draped in gold-threaded blue, her lips curled in satisfaction.
I looked up.
Isawthem.
Then I turned away.
Let them watch. Let them see what it looked like when I didn’t break.
Major Ledor stood at the podium on the grounds, his boots set wide, his red-lined cloak fluttering in the morning wind. His voice carried clear and distinct when he addressed us.
“Today’s trial,” he called, “is not about strength or precision. It’s abouttrust.”
He let that settle, his gaze sweeping the squads.
“You’ll be blindfolded. Your dragons will guide you through a course above the clouds. No verbal commands. No magic. Only bond. You willeitherlisten—” he glanced at me, just for a moment, “—or fall.”
A test of bond.
Of connection.
My stomach twisted, because I already knew what Kaelith hadn’t said.
She wasn’t ready.
