“Never made me feel worth more,” Bhreena clipped before sipping the nectar and setting the translucent bulb aside.
“I thought being elven-blooded made me different,” Serenna said quietly. “Until I was conscripted to Centarya.”
Bhreena let out a humorless sound. “The lie they fed our kind—half a drop of elf blood and you’re nobler than humans by default.” Her attention darted to the sentinels posted at the bridge, then to the flamedancers spinning through ribbons of fire. “But when the crown needs soldiers, the line they drew between us vanishes fast.”
“I know,” Serenna said softly. “I was taken from the southern realm.” She wasn’t sure whether the words would push Bhreena deeper behind her walls.
Bhreena picked at a strip of meat, not really eating. “Western realm,” she said at last. “My line tended the forests of Dosythe for generations. Then the king ordered the harvest for his ships, and suddenly our stewardship meant destroying the groves ourselves.”
Serenna’s stomach turned from the same rot beneath different soil. Vaelyn’s white shores had been devoured by shipyards, the bay choked with docks, the sea swarmed with sails.
She’d heard fragments from the prince about Daeryn’s force—about their families—and beneath Bhreena’s quiet defiance she felt a kinship carved by more than mere circumstance.
“My brother remained behind when I was conscripted,” Serenna murmured. “I thought it was because he was next inline, but now I wonder if Elashor already knew his elemental power had awakened. The last time I saw Saundyl, he could command the sea. By now he’s probably sailed.” Her voice thinned to a whisper. “He doesn’t feel like he has a choice but to obey either. Elashor took his family too.”
Bhreena’s chewing slowed. Then, almost grudgingly, she answered, “Doesn’t matter what power you have when someone else’s throat is under the blade.” Her gaze drifted down the canal. “You really think we’ll see them again?”
Serenna hesitated. She wanted to promise, but truth demanded honest words. “All of our factions are meeting tomorrow,” she said instead. “We’ll decide together how to move against the king.” She met Bhreena’s eyes, firelight flickering across the unreadable umber. “If Jassyn said we’ll help, he meant it.”
Bhreena studied her a moment longer before giving a single nod.
Serenna assumed Bhreena would only believe it when proof stood before her. Yet the door between them felt cracked open. If only slightly.
Bhreena’s attention landed on Vasharax curled in Serenna’s lap. “That dragon isn’t like the one we followed. Rimeclaw.” Her eyes narrowed, scrutinizing the hatchling. “He had fins instead of leathery spines. And webbed claws, like something from the sea.”
It wasn’t really a question, but Serenna caught it like one. “Cinderax said each elemental type appears different. Stormstrikes and Zephyrfangs—lightning and wind—are built for speed and don’t have forelegs at all. Bramblemaws, the earthen dragons, are low-bodied and thick-limbed compared to the others.”
Bhreena’s fingers tightened around her plate. “I didn’t think dragons were anything more than old stories. And certainly not something I’d ever see.”
Serenna watched a shadow cross Bhreena’s face before she ventured, “Were you there when Rimeclaw was found?”
Bhreena shook her head. “I only heard about it. My company was stationed at a fortress in the Wastes. We received word that one of the first ships had made landfall on the far side of the world—this side, I suppose.”
Serenna held her breath. She doubted the time frame was right for that discovery to have been made by Saundyl’s fleet. Bhreena nudged rice around her plate before continuing.
“They sailed through a shattered coast and up a river mouth into the marshes. The dragon was crystallized in the water as if he were sleeping. It didn’t take long for a string of portals to open back to the capital. The king came through with Elashor, woke the dragon somehow, then commanded him back to Alari. After that, our orders were to clear a path across the Wastes and find more beasts.”
Serenna traced the illusion maps in her mind, the ones she’d seen in countless meetings, each glowing line of river and coast bending toward dread. If Bhreena meant the Mistweaver Marshes, then the king’s armies might already be closer than they feared—nearly on Asharyn’s doorstep if they marched across the plains. But if they followed the water east instead…
Her stomach dropped. That path would carry them straight into the Crackling Maw.
Serenna’s gaze found Fenn and Koln, now surrounded by a larger group of raucous wraith, before drifting beyond them to where Vesryn remained deep in spirited conversation with Aesar and Kal. Music and laughter thinned, joy dissolving into a hush of sound.
Peace like this never lasted.
CHAPTER 25
SERENNA
When Serenna shared Bhreena’s account with Vesryn and Fenn the night before, she’d only meant to suggest scouting the Mistweaver Marshes prior to the afternoon meeting of the factions. They needed to find out where the king’s armies were marching and how close they were to Asharyn—or if they were moving toward Skylash instead.
She hadn’t expected the idea to summon two males with egos larger than their wingspans hours before dawn.
Both stood shifted into their wings, clawed tips flexing, already locked in an argument. Serenna sensed that neither of them intended to be the one to yield first.
Scowling at Vesryn’s whirling orbs of illumination, she flicked a hand to douse half the lights before throwing the covers aside. Sleep still clung to her, and patience felt farther away than the rising sun. She’d considered chasing them from her room long enough to dress in peace, but the bickering had taken flight before she could wedge a word in.
“Splitfang’s the wiser route,” Fenn drawled from near the balcony door. One wing pushed a curtain aside before he leaned against the frame. Too smug and awake for the hour. “From there, we glide across the plains and sweep the marshes.”
