I’ve tried calling magic to fight him, but everything I attempt is met with failure. Any fire I create is blown away by his wind. I’ve seen Grey repel enemies on the battlefield, but it’s not a practiced skill for me—or maybe scravers are just immune. My efforts leave me panting in the dirt.
I have no idea if Malin will find the king—or if I’ve just sent my friend to his death.
I have no idea what the scravers will do with Grey if they find him. Will his own magic be equally useless? Will they tear him apart like they’re doing to the soldiers on the battlefield?
Have they already?
I have to shove the thoughts away. They won’t help me now.
In between attempts at magic, I surge at Nakiis’s hold, but he barely budges.
“They’re not just after the king,” I snarl at him breathlessly. Desperately. “They’re killing everyone.”
“Those same soldiers conspire against your king, too.”
“Not all of them!”
Nakiis says nothing. Down by the training fields, the scraver screams have grown louder. Something has changed—but I have no idea what.
“Grey wouldhelpyou,” I say. “He’s helped you before, and he would help you now—especially if he knew what you needed.”
“No. He would not.” Nakiis leans down close, until I can see the glint of his fangs. “He threatened you. He trapped you here.”
The words tug at my heart, leaving seeds of doubt. He’s said these things before, and I remember how they felt true then, too. I consider how much time I’ve spent doubting Grey’s friendship over the last few months. How much time I’ve spent regretting my loyalty.
Again, I remember the moment when I was fifteen years old and the king stood up for me to Captain Solt, how it felt to have Grey on my side.
I remember the moment I faced him on the fields a few weeks ago, when he told me I wouldn’t be allowed to return to Ironrose.
I’m keeping my people safe. That includes you.
Have I been misreading his actions? Maybe we both carry so much sorrow and suffering that we’re no longer seeing things the same way, but that doesn’t mean Grey is working against me.
Have I been fighting an enemy that doesn’t really exist? Ishe?
Is Nakiis?
I look up into the scraver’s coal-dark eyes and think of the way he said I’ve never really been afraid of him. I think of the way he finally trusted me enough to relax in my presence. I think of the weird truce we’ve formed—a truce that felt like it might be sliding dangerously close to friendship.
“If you trust me enough to helpyou,” I say, “then you have to trust me enough to helphim.”
He says nothing. His grip doesn’t loosen one bit.
“And if you trap me here,” I add, “with the intention of forcing me to work for you, then you are no better than the people you’re afraid of.”
That gets a reaction. I can feel the jolt in his body. But he still doesn’t loosen his grip.
“He let my father die,” he says.
“No,” I say. “He didn’t. I swear to you, he didn’t. He did everything he could to save him. And your father’s last words were begging Grey to findyou. To helpyou. And that’s exactly what he did.” I take a breath, listening to the screams from the distant fields. Even if Grey isn’t out there, Malin is. Other soldiers are. “Nakiis,please. I owe the king my life. Let me help him.”
Nakiis stares down at me.
And then, without a word, he snaps his wings wide. He launches himself into the trees, leaving me alone on the path.
Mercy spooked and bolted a while ago, so I have to run. My boots are loud on the path, my breathing clouding as I draw closer to the training fields. Magic is in the air everywhere, so many different threads that I couldn’t even begin to count. The distant cries from falling soldiers and screeching scravers echo through the woods. It’s even louder than when Jax and I were attacked with the traveling party. There must be dozens of the creatures in the sky—if not more. As the trees begin to thin, their wings flicker against the sun in every direction, though they seem to be narrowing to a point.
When I near the training barracks at the base of the mountain, soldiers are running in the opposite direction, fleeing into the mountains.
