My head snaps up, instincts screaming. My eyes scan the overcast sky, searching. Then I see it. A searing streak of cobalt blue, arcing through the clouds like a falling star, moving with impossible speed and a terrifying, silent grace. It’s aimed directly at the heart of our academy.
11
DAYN
The breach alarm shrieks through the stone. Every head in the room snaps up. Corvin is on his feet, his hand instinctively going to his blade.
Then the world dissolves into blue light and screaming rock.
A projectile, barely larger than my fist and burning with the light of a dying star, tears through the chamber wall. It moves with impossible speed, a cobalt comet that leaves a trail of ozone and vaporized stone in its wake. It misses my head by inches, the heat of its passage searing my cheek.
It grazes Elder Farrow.
He doesn’t have time to scream. One moment he is a man, his face a mask of shock. The next, he is a column of fine, gray ash that collapses in on itself, drifting to the floor in a silent, obscene snowfall. The projectile punches through the far wall and vanishes, its roar echoing in the sudden, profound silence.
My first thought, sharp and blinding, is:Esme.
She left. She walked out of this chamber just minutes ago.
“Outside! Now!” Corvin’s voice cracks through the room.
The assembly surges from the ruined chamber, spillingthrough the hallways. Darkbloods from the rest of the academy join us in the rush out into the main courtyard. My eyes scan the grounds, the exits, the battlements, searching for her. Then I spot her, after several heartbeats, a lone figure on the northern wall, staring at the sky where the projectile emerged. She is alive, and unharmed. The relief is so unexpectedly sharp, it’s almost painful, like a blade twisting in my gut. My heart hammers against my ribs, a wild, trapped thing.Since when did I fear so much for this witch?
Byzu is at my side, his eyes scanning the clouds. “What in the hells was that?”
The air still hums with residual energy. I close my eyes, reaching out with my senses, tasting the magic left in its wake. It is draconic. Potent. And sickeningly familiar. It is the echo of my own power, stolen from my veins in Heathborne’s labs, twisted and weaponized. Concentrated into a single, devastating point.
“Clearbloods,” I say, the word a low growl. “They’re still using what they harvested from me. They’ve made a weapon that can pierce these wards like paper.”
A single shot. A test. An assassination attempt that was either wildly successful or a near miss, depending on the target.
My gaze returns to Esme on the wall. Was she the target? Or was it me?
“They fired it from a distance,” I say, my mind racing. “Beyond the forest. They’ll be retreating.”
I look at Byzu. No more words are needed. We shed our human forms in a ripple of heat and cracking bone, scales replacing skin, wings tearing free. The darkbloods in the courtyard stumble back, their faces a mixture of awe and terror as two ancient dragons rise where men stood.
With a roar that shakes the very foundations of the academy, we leap into the air.
As we climb, I see figures moving on the ground below,racing for the forest’s edge. I recognize Ridge and Nyv. Good. Ground support might be useful. Then I spot a third, smaller figure, following them.
“Stay back, Isola!” Ridge’s voice is a faint shout from below. “This isn’t a training exercise!”
The girl doesn’t slow. Stubborn. I bank, my shadow falling over her, and push a thought into her mind, a command wrapped in the rumble of my true voice.He is right, little witch. Your fight is back there. Defend your home.
Her head snaps up, her small face a mask of defiance. The thought she sends back is not cowed, but sharp, angry.Don’t call me little.
I almost laugh. It is undeniably the Salem vibe. A family of infuriating, indomitable women.
Byzu and I level out, our wings beating a powerful rhythm that propels us over the canopy of black trees. The wind whips through my talons. Below, the forest is like a dark, churning sea. We are hunters, and our prey is close.
My eyes, which can spot a rabbit from a league away, scan the landscape. Nothing. No sign of a launch site, no scorched earth. They were clean. Efficient.
But not entirely invisible.
At the far edge of the woods, where the ancient trees give way to open fields, I see them. Two figures in the gray-and-blue fatigues of Heathborne operatives, scrambling away, large, heavy-looking packs slung over their shoulders.
There,I send to Byzu.
