His eye flitted to the dark brush of the eastern forest. “There,” he rushed out. “They’re…they’re meeting riders.”
“Riders?” I growled. Unfathomable. “Mine?”
“Don’t…know,” came his answer, his breathing labored.
Which meant I didn’t have much time to find them…if they were still in the Arsadia. Urgency pressed down on my shoulders.
I needed to find her before it was too late.
“Syris, stay with him,” I ordered. “Raran is on her way.”
“I will,” she said, her tone determined though she looked like she might faint from all the blood as she climbed over the wall, trying to keep the goblet steady.
I didn’t wait for another moment, already calling for Samryn in my mind, feeling him awaken as the bond pulled tightbetween us. There was nowhere for him to land back here, so I raced toward the landing field.
I caught Myzalla on the way.
“Brune’s gone too,” she breathed, panting as she sprinted back up the hill.
“He’s hurt. Beaten,” I told her, gesturing back at the hatchery. “Tarkosh is getting Raran, but we have a bigger issue. Brune said riders are helping them. I don’t know who.”
“On Muron,” Myzalla breathed, shaking her head. “Ours? How will we find them before they leave?”
I had an idea, but I didn’t know if it would work. Heartstone magic was unpredictable, after all, but it could also feel like a familiar touch. A summoning, just as a bond would.
“Get only our most trusted riders and get them in the sky,” I growled. “They cut east through the forest.”
Samryn’s roar overhead, as he careened through the sky, nearly shook Grymia. If anyone wasn’t yet awake, they would be now. The dark clouds in the sky warned of the storm that Sarkin had mentioned to me. The day might be as dark as night soon. I worried about the visibility.
“I’ll find her,” I told Myzalla.
I only hoped I wouldn’t be too late.
Chapter 37
AMAIA
When the rain started, it came pouring down over us in sheets. Icy and prickling, it was nothing like the gentle storms in Dothik during the warmer months, when the drizzle felt more like a enveloping fog.
This was a punishing rain, and in no time, it soaked me through to the bone, even beneath the protection of the trees in the thick forest.
I was sandwiched between Ryak and Nevin, in a single-file line as Ryak led the path through the dark woods. The only thing that didn’t make my teeth chatter was the hot satchel against my back, keeping the core of my body warm.
My eyes were on Ryak’s back, glued to the satchel. They were frustrated that I moved so slowly, but the starstone and the eggs were nearly as heavy as a newbornpyroki. Carrying one on your back for hours, with very little sleep and trembling limbs? I was surprised I hadn’t collapsed before dawn had broken over the Arsadia.
My head was pounding still from when Ryak had hit me. Every drag of my legs made me want to curl into a ball. I wanted to huddle all the eggs to me, to try to shield them, to protectthem. I wanted to return to Grymia. I wanted to wake up beside Alaryk and pretend that he hadn’t betrayed me, that I hadn’t betrayed him, that we hadn’t fought.
I wanted to pretend that I’d never done such an awful, awful thing.
But this was my own punishment, wasn’t it?
It was an act—a decision and a treachery against people I had come to love—that would haunt me for the rest of my life. Every day, I would remember this.
I went to grip my pendant, a habit when I was feeling lost, only to feel the bare flesh of my neck. A reminder. Another loss.
“Hurry up,” Ryak growled when I fell behind, again.
“I can’t go any faster,” I panted, nearly doubled over on the trail that wasn’t really a trail. Only a temporary one made with Ryak’s heavy footsteps, the brush already springing back into shape. Something slimy was crawling along my leg, and I was too tired to shake it off. The rain was making the forest floor as thick as mud. Every step felt like wading into sludge.
