He strode away, not looking back as he took the lead. The emperor chanced one last glance in Tate’s direction as Thora lingered.
“I’m going with you,” Dewdrop said.
“No.” Tate waved off Dewdrop’s objections. “Someone else needs you more.”
She sent a significant look in Daisy’s direction.
Dewdrop looked frozen. The same struggle she’d seen on Ryu’s face present in his. How lucky was she to have people who loved her this much? So much that they would act against their own instincts if she asked it.
She was truly blessed. Ilith had been right earlier. She wasn’t alone. Too many people walked beside her for that.
“What about you?” Dewdrop asked, sounding lost.
Tate snickered. “I have a dragon. Do you really think Ilith would let me get hurt? Help Thora protect Daisy and the others. We don’t know if this is a misdirect.”
There had been no indication that whoever caused this was going after the dragonlettes but that feeling of home nagged at her. If this was something to do with the dragon-ridden or if they were the targets, the most vulnerable of them would bear the brunt.
Thora and Tate looked at each other, similar thoughts running through their minds. He nodded once in understanding.
“Come, Daisy, we need to get you to a safe place,” Thora said.
Dewdrop’s hands clenched as resignation filled his face. “I understand. I’ll do my best.”
Tate gave him a soft smile, reaching out and rubbing his head. He didn’t fight her, letting her do what she wanted. Growing up and realizing you wouldn’t always be able to protect everyone was hard. Sometimes you had to pick and choose based on the situation at hand. It was a harsh lesson she’d hoped none of them would ever have to learn.
“Night, you’re with me. I have a feeling I’m going to need your talents,” Tate said in a grim voice.
Peter had slipped away during the final battle against Nathan. This time was going to be different. Let the hunt begin.
* * *
Tate and Night left the others behind, slipping through the same door Peter escaped from earlier. The air was thick with smoke, the irritant sending Tate into a coughing spasm. She tugged the collar of her shirt up, ducking her nose into it, hoping it would help.
“You sense anything?” Tate managed to choke out.
Nothing. But we need to get out of here. We won’t find him if we suffocate to death.
Night’s mental voice sounded a lot better than Tate’s real one. Listening to it, you’d never know they were in a hallway, smoke threatening to suffocate them.
Must be nice to be able to communicate telepathically sometimes.
This way.Night cut through the survivors, heading for the nearest exit. Tate kept her gaze trained on Night’s back as they moved quickly through the hallway. They joined the crowd streaming out the formal entry of the palace, arriving on the circular gravel driveway that was surrounded by well-maintained lawns.
Tate looked around, scanning for her prey.
Peter was nowhere to be found; nothing more than a ghost at this point.
Maybe if Tate had acted faster. Taken less time to gain her bearings after the attack. Too late now. There was no use thinking of what could have been.
Chaos reigned, but a controlled form of it. Amid the panic that had overtaken many, a few shone even more brightly as they took charge.
The Duke of Spiritly shouted instructions to survivors exiting the palace. To Tate’s surprise, Roslyn was next to him, directing healers to those with the worst injuries. The two worked well together, moving in tandem as if they were always aware of the other’s contribution. There was no sign of the immense divide between them.
Already, the pandemonium was beginning to settle from their efforts.
Roslyn looked up, catching Tate’s eye. Relief settled on her face, echoing Tate’s feelings. Everyone Tate cared for was accounted for.
Tate lifted a hand and pointed at the duke, and then Roslyn, before flashing a thumbs up sign. Roslyn blinked at her.
