Every muscle in Lykor’s jaw flexed.
“Don’t say it,”Aesar clipped, holding up a finger.
Lykor scowled at the itinerary of agony. Hours yet until sunset, and already the world felt ready to burn—a day too long for diplomacy and restraint.
Kaedryn extended a claw toward the circle’s center. “Serenna and Vesryn will begin before we discuss what comes next.”
Vesryn flexed his fingers, conjuring a shimmer of illusion above the dock’s heart. “We scouted a fragment of the marshlands before dawn,” he said as turquoise light snapped into place—jagged coasts, fractured mountains, ranges of plains that barely hinted at this realm’s true shape. “What we thought were sailing ships turned out to be gutted hulls, rebuilt into a living fortress near the desert’s rim.”
A murmur rippled through the circle as the illusion solidified.
“Elashor is here,” Serenna added quietly. “And his forces have captured mounts that can fly—razorwings, Fenn called them. But that’s not the worst of what we found.”
Lykor didn’t blink. He’d already heard this report, had watched disbelief flicker through Jassyn’s eyes when they’d brought word back. Still, the proof dragged the threat into the open.
Vesryn swept a hand over the illusion, rivers unfurling to feed the Blackreach, their currents dotted with ships. “I don’t think the human army has arrived yet. Regardless, there’s another fleet sailing for the Crackling Maw.”
Someone cleared their throat.
Daeryn.
“If the human forces aren’t here yet,” Daeryn said as every eye turned to him, “they will be soon.”
Lykor kept his gaze on the map, though Aesar’s wandering steps gnawed at the corner of his vision.
“How?” Lykor demanded. It had taken him half a dozen jumps just to retrace his steps from Asharyn to the jungle. “Is there a permanent portal?”
Vesryn’s fingers twitched above the illusion. “I doubt even the king’s power could sustain a rift that far across the sea.”
Daeryn shook his head, shifting on his cushion. “Galaeryn doesn’t need one.” He gestured toward the shimmering expanse of water. “Some of the ships aren’t meant to reach any shore. They’re being repurposed into floating portal platforms, anchored in open water to serve as way stations.”
“But the Maelstrom hunts Essence,” Jassyn said before Lykor could even begin to dread the implications. “Untethered wielders would only summon the storm.”
“That’s where those like us come in,” Bhreena cut in, gaze flicking between Jassyn and Serenna. “Crossbred shaman stock. Everyone else on board stays tethered, and we bend the storm if it draws near.”
“There are decoy ships too,” Daeryn added. “Ordered to flare Essence when portals are scheduled to open. They bait the Maelstrom away from the traveling corridors.”
Lykor’s armor creaked as his fists clenched on his thighs. He could almost hear the sea churning beneath them as Daeryn’s voice dissolved into noise. All he could picture was the inevitability, a slow creep of defeat spreading like mold.
This alliance wasn’t bracing for an invasion. They were already standing inside its jaws.
“It’s not a perfect system,” Daeryn concluded. “Ships have been lost. But the human army will be portaled with ease—following those hunting for the remaining dragons.”
No one spoke.
Water slapped the pier in an uneven rhythm, each wave landing a little harder than the last. The silence carried no shock, only the confirmation of a truth already seated among them.
Kal adjusted a knife at his hip. “It doesn’t matter how Galaeryn’s army gets here—only that it’s on its way.”
“Fenn’s organizing additional scouts to keep eyes on those razorwings,” Serenna added. “But we won’t have much warning if they discover Asharyn.”
“In the meantime,” Lykor growled, wiping a bead of sweat away from his neck, “Galaeryn’s fleet could stumble on Skylash while we sit here pretending that planning will save us. We’re out of time.” His eyes locked on the illusion map, but the lines had blurred. “All we have are two hatchlings who can barely light a candle.” Cinderax growled, and Lykor glared back. “And our warriors are still learning to flap their wings without setting themselves ablaze.”
“We might’ve bought a sliver of time before anyone else crosses the Wastes,” Jassyn said, sharing a glance with Daeryn. “But Rimeclaw won’t slumber in that jungle lake forever. And when the king realizes his forward scouts have gone silent…”
He didn’t finish, dread settling like ash between them. If Galaeryn’s leash on the dragon slackened while Rimeclaw lingered in the jungle without Daeryn’s band to lead, it might be the only advantage of time they had left. But once the king steered the dragon’s glacial fury toward Asharyn, this fragile alliance wouldn’t survive Rimeclaw’s first icy breath.
Serenna leaned forward, eyes fixed on the illusion’s Crackling Maw. “Then we need to find Skylashfirst.”
