He would.
...wouldn’t he?
“You know what I mean,” Indriya said knowingly. “Your crown is heavier than Kinlear’s. His burden...it isn’t the same as yours.”
While Kinlear’s future was a mystery, to most...it wasn’t a surprise to anyone in the Citadel, what Arawn’s fate was to be. His father was going to die before too long. Draybor’s magic had taken its toll. And then it would beArawn’sturn to lead.Arawn’sturn to become King.
“Are you ready?” Indriya asked.
No,he thought.Not at all.
“For what?” he answered, as they marched north.
She elbowed him in the side. “Arawn.”
Arawn sighed. “I’m sorting through things,” he said, pausing as the two Sacred stationed at the doors bowed to him.
He’d never loved the bowing. He didn’t want their admiration or their praise. He just wanted their safety. He wanted to see an end to this war.
“I’ll have my magic back soon enough.”
“And if you don’t?” Indriya asked, as they left the cold and entered the rush of the Citadel’s warmth.
“Haven’t considered that,” Arawn said, “Because it’s not going to happen.”
“But it?—”
“Indri.” He met her eyes. “Please.”
She pursed her lips, but followed him silently through the halls, her footsteps fast. He noticed the flying leathers, the runes on her cloak and her sword, glowing fresh and bright. She would fly tonight without him. She would battle, as would the rest of his aerie...and he would be here instead, sitting on the sidelines.
Useless...under the guise ofhealing.
So heal me,he thought to his pillared god.Heal me, I beg of you, Vivorr, so I can fight for you. For my people.
For the ones who are brave enoughnotto defect.
He wondered if Vivorr even heard him.
He’d wondered for months now, for his flames...even in the woods, even faced with shadow wolves, he got fizzling embers of his magic.
Never once did he receive a steady firestorm.
Indriya paused before the War Room doors.
Inside...he could already hear the shouts of his father as King Draybor argued in circles with his own Masters.
No one could figure out how to win this war.
The Acolyte’s power was too strong, too mysterious...and it had brought out the worst in all of them. Especially for a Sacred King that was dying from the effects of his own magic.
“Hate me for saying this...” Indriya started.
He met her gaze. “I could never hate you.”
She was family to him. As good as a sister could be, shared blood or not.
Still, she held up her hands in defense. “Soraya said that, too. And in the end, Arawn...I think shedidhate me. I think she hated all of us. She tried to murder you. We nearly lost you...because of her.”
