I frown. In the past, she rarely communicated with me—at best I could sense her moods—and right now, I’d prefer her silence. I’ve always assumed that she could read some of my thoughts. For years, I believed that was how I steered her. But her ability to read my thoughts goes beyond anything I ever imagined.
You haveneversteered me, she snarls.We simply shared the same objectives: Maintain the veil. Protect the Light.
My anger continues to build. Isnothingprivate? And assuming Rosomon and Zogar also share a mind bond like this— Irrational jealousy invades the already conflicted emotions I’m fighting to contain.
Although they’re married, and I’ve now seen how he can clearly give her sexual pleasure, I’ve told myself that Rosomon and Zogar aren’t as close as we are. He hasn’t known her as long. He hasn’t had time to build a true relationship with her. They can’t be in love. But if Zogar can read her thoughts, it’s possible he knows her as well as I do, perhaps better than I could ever.
Fear and sadness wash through me. What if I never see her again?
Our queen is safe, Surath says.She and Zogar will return to the Light.
“When?” I shout at Surath. “When will they return?”
Whenever Zogar decides.
Surath’s frustrating answer exacerbates my anger. To my side, Tynan, atop Xendus, is looking behind him. The boy is clearly distraught, and it’s not difficult to understand what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling. I’m actually proud of Tynan. Proud that he’s letting himself feel his sadness and fear, instead of letting both erupt as anger.
The boy understands the futility of anger at this moment,Surath says.He is either wise or lucky, because my mate is less tolerant than I, and he’d punish that boy for his anger.
I scoff at the idea that Surath is anythingcloseto tolerant, but she expands her knot inside me, pulsing, as if in warning.
Fine, I think. You win—for now. There’s no time to argue. We’re getting close to the veil. Below us, the creatures of Lymbo are stirring, moaning and shrieking, waking as we pass overhead.
Xendus swoops past us, breathing a long blaze of fire, and the veil parts like a flaming curtain. Light streams into the bleakness of Lymbo, and Surath and I fly through the gap so quickly that Xendus’s flames lick my skin and char my throat. Glancing back to my blind spot, I confirm that Xendus and Tynan have followed. And then Xendus seals the gap he burned into the veil.
No demons crossed through with us, and yet, as we fly back toward camp, we’re surrounded by fully armed riders.
Thraxal, Alexandre on her back, breathes fire in our direction. Surath swoops below the stream, but the fire passes so close to my head that the smell of burning hair fills my nostrils. I dare not release the saddle handles to check if I’m on fire. Surath no longer needs me to fly and could toss me off her back.
Xendus roars, painting the sky with fire and pushing back the other dragons, but the battalion changes formation, someflying high, some low, and they soar around us, restricting our movements. The battalion evades Xendus’s fire, but their movements still prevent us from flying away.
“Why are the dragons attacking?” I ask Surath. “Are they angry you crossed the veil?”
It’s not me they’re attacking,Surath replies.It’s you they want.
“Why do the dragons want me?”
They’re angry about the role you played in hobbling Farrahx with shadowdust.
I gasp. So much happened I almost forgot that, in my efforts to protect Surath and Xendus, shadowdust pots exploded midair, dropping the deadly dust into the pen of another dragon. I had no idea my magic could do anything of the kind.
As soon as we land, the humans will imprison you. They plan to put you before a tribunal for hiding your magic—something the dragons are also angry about.
I well know how angry Surath was to discover I had magic—forbidden on this side of the veil—and I’m amazed at how easily she’s communicating with the other dragons. I’ve been arrogant—every human has been—believing we knew so much about dragons. We clearly knew so little.
Fool, Surath says.
Xendus circles around us again, breathing fire directly toward Alexandre and Thraxal. He’s not doing it to protect me from capture. He’s angry about the threats to his wife, and I’m but a beneficiary.
The humans are determined to apprehend you,Surath says.We could flee, but others will follow. I asked my people to let us escape, but they are unwilling to anger their riders. Humans remain essential to their ability to fly and to see, and my people aren’t happy with you, either.
Thraxal again breathes an enormous stream of fire in our direction, and this time Surath swoops far enough out of its path that my hair isn’t singed.
You’re welcome,she says.
I grin at her wry response to my thankful thought, and we circle the fields between the enclaves and the camp’s living quarters. Below us, Treacher and Roule are standing with Kaelus, the camp’s Head Klerick, along with three other klericks I don’t recognize. Armed guards stand with them, and the entire group glares up toward us.
Treacher makes an exaggerated gesture toward the ground—a signal I know well. He wants us to land, as if that wasn’t already clear. But I have zero choice over the matter. It’s up to Surath to decide.
