Then my gaze shifted to the gates, and a name surfaced on my tongue like a blade sliding free from its sheath. “Gerane,” I said.
Teren blinked. “The gate watch?”
“He can get a message to my family,” I murmured. “Movements. Rumors. Supply runs. If anyone knows what’s really going on outside these walls, it’s Cyran.”
Without waiting for agreement, I turned and strode toward the gate. The others followed without question.
Because whatever Theron was doing... he wasn’t just calling dragons back.
He was preparing for something.
And we needed to know what before the sky bled red.
I stopped just shy of the outer gate and turned to Gerane. His keen green eyes watched the street like a hawk, the scar on his hand catching a glint of late sun.
“I need you to summon my sister,” I said. “Tell her it’s urgent.”
He gave me a single, curt nod. No questions. No hesitation. That was one of the reasons I trusted him. Gerane motioned subtly to a man standing outside a butcher’s shop across the way, who peeled off from his post and disappeared down an alley without a sound.
I turned away from the gate, but my boot tapped restlessly against the cobblestone. I wouldn’t have to wait long. Solei had ears in every shadow, but patience had never been my strong suit.
Teren crossed his arms beside me while Luthias leaned against a nearby wall, arms folded like a stone sentinel. I could feel the tension radiating off both of them, and not just from the waiting.
“Do you think Theron’s consolidating the riders for a reason?” I asked quietly.
Luthias’ eyes narrowed. “Of course he is. You don’t pull riders off a continent-wide defense unless you’re preparing for something bigger.”
“Varnari?” I offered. “Or maybe the Crimson Sigil?”
“Or both,” Teren muttered. “Maybe they’ve formed an alliance strong enough to threaten the capital.”
“But why wouldn’t he share that?” I asked, my voice cautious. “If he has intelligence on a major threat, the guilds should be mobilizing, not debating politics and putting cadets on trial.”
“Unless he doesn’t trust the guilds anymore,” Luthias said darkly. “Or maybe he plans to control them himself.”
“Or…” I hesitated. “He knows something we don’t. Something he doesn’t want to share.”
Teren looked toward the sky, jaw clenched. “Whatever it is, it’s big. And it’s coming fast.”
My boot stilled against the stone.
We were running out of time.
And the one person who might give us answers was already on her way.
Solei arrived like a storm, silent, efficient, and deadly in her stride. Her blond braid was tucked under a hood, and her gaze swept over us before landing on mine.
“You summoned?”
“Yeah,” I said, gesturing toward the returning patrols. “We’ve got Warborn riders trickling back. Luthias confirmed the outposts are being recalled. Every dragon in the kingdom is being called back to Warriath.”
Her expression didn’t shift, but I saw the tightness in her jaw. “Then it’s worse than I thought.”
“Worse?” Teren echoed, stepping forward.
Solei nodded once, grim. “The eastern coast is gone. Amdar, Caston, Diria have all been devastated by fire and coordinated attacks. They didn’t just fall. They were torn apart. No warning, no mercy.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. “All three? Already?”
