“You know,” I said into the dark, “I’m surprised you haven’t second-guessed yourself, following me blindly for miles.”
“It’s my favorite view of you,” Shayde replied, dry as dust. “Why would I complain?”
This time, I physically rolled my eyes—not that he could see it.
“We’re almost to the northern wall,” I said, shifting my focus ahead. “From there, we’ll have to find a way through the gate without being seen.”
A few hundred feet later, the tunnel finally opened. The night sky was mercifully dark, shrouding us in shadow. The narrow exit hid itself well, tucked behind a curtain of brittle vines and branches, wedged between two crumbling buildings along the Barren Watch’s outer edge.
We dropped low, crawling out into the open, moving between the structures with silent precision. A stack of barrels offered cover, and we crouched behind it, breath steady but ears tuned for the sound of approaching boots.
“If Tyrians are getting past the Watch,” Shayde murmured, “there’s got to be another way in besides the main gate.”
For once, I didn’t argue. “I know. But no one’s figured out how they’re managing it. Gray dragons have hit Arya recently, but they take the long route over the ocean and circle back. That’s not an option for ground units. Other elementals must be slipping through on foot.”
Shayde leaned toward the gap between the barrels, studying the wall. “Too tall to climb without being spotted, and it runs straight to the continent’s edge. No cliff tunnels. What about… below the wall?”
I glanced at him, weighing it. “Not impossible. Tyria used to have old service canals for waste and stormwater. Most were sealed decades ago, but if one wasn’t maintained…”
“It might’ve collapsed,” he said, “or stayed just wide enough for someone desperate to squeeze through.”
I nodded slowly. “That would mean crawling through fifty years of filth, mold, and whatever else decided to take up residence.”
Shayde’s mouth quirked, eyes glinting in the dark. “What’s wrong, Fitzroy? Afraid to get your hands dirty?”
I narrowed my eyes. “I already can’t stand being near you. No need to add the stench of sewage to your charm.”
“Oh, so you do think I’m charming?” His brows arched, smugness curling the edges of his tone.
Heat crept up my neck. “I think you’re good at pretending to be Prince Charming—right before handing innocent girls over to their enemies.” The words tasted bitter the moment they left my mouth.
Shayde’s grin vanished. Just like that, the mischief bled from his face.
Before either of us could push further, voices drifted in from the right. We eased back from the gaps in the barrels, muscles tight, as a trio of Watch soldiers passed. They murmured about the next shift change. Neither of us breathed until their footsteps faded.
When silence settled again, I scanned our surroundings. Tall, crumbling buildings loomed, windows either boarded with splintering wood or caged in iron bars—reinforcements against whatever the Barrens might send clawing at them. The soldiers moved in groups of three, their ash-gray leathers blending seamlessly into the scorched terrain.
The Barrens looked like a place fire had claimed and refused to release—charred and hollowed until nothing living could endure. The ground was a cracked crust of ash. Canals lay empty and fissured, long since bled dry. Trees stood stripped and skeletal, brittle limbs swaying like they might shatter at a touch of wind.
No one lived here except those condemned to the Barren Watch—soldiers serving a life sentence for crimes too unforgivable to allow anywhere else.
Or perhaps… for defiance.
The thought crept in quietly. Who was to say some of them weren’t here simply because they opposed the wrong person? Or because the Mareki had chosen them to channel more than one element?
Like me. Like Scarlet. Like Rhodes.
My gaze flicked to the soldiers’ necks, searching for glints of tungsten.
The tungsten might have nullified their elemental power, but it didn’t sever the bond with their dragons. That connection wastoo strong, too ancient, to be undone so easily. Dragons bonded to fire elementals sentenced to the Barrens usually faced one of two fates: serve as enforcers along the northern wall, like glorified guard dogs, or break the bond entirely.
I couldn’t say I blamed the dragons. If I were a fire-breathing, man-eating beast, I wouldn’t take orders from fragile little humans either.
Dragons deserved the right to live freely—beside their bonded or far from civilization. They never asked to hatch on our lands. No one even knew where they came from.
But humankind did not own them. Just like we didn’t own the Mareki Gem.
“There,” Shayde whispered, pointing west. “I see a sewer grate. But there are elementals everywhere. We need a distraction.”
