Hera hesitated; she tilted her heads like a puzzled puppy.
The battle quieted, both sides retreating. Evander and Hera stood in a cloud of steam, and if it weren’t for the distant rattle of shotfires and the echoing screams, Evander could almost imagine they were home again, in Silvanlight, training in the familiar little paddocks. Any second, an underkeeper would bustle up to the fence and tell him the drowserjaw swallowed a trainer, or a baby club dragon was hatching in the barn.
“Go, Hera!” he ordered, pointing in the direction of the strait. “Go home!”
She stared at him, bewildered.
“Go home. To the sea. To Silvanlight. I can’t follow you, but you need to go home.”
She seemed to understand. With a last affectionate nuzzle and a look of sadness almost akin to betrayal, Hera ambled away, disappearing in the swirling fog.
Sorrow swamped Evander as he watched her silhouette fade. He’d loved Hera like a pet, almost like a child. He’d held her on his lap and fed her milk from a bottle; he’d taught her how to play with a ball.
But she couldn’t belong to him anymore. She couldn’t be part of his violent quest for Talwaith.
Evander’s arm throbbed. He was suddenly so tired, he wondered if he couldkeep his feet.
Then a wraith leapt from the fog. Surprised, Evander tried to draw his cutlass, but his injured arm wouldn’t obey him. Before Evander could react, the shadow plunged a sword through his chest.
He doubled over, stunned.
For an instant, he couldn’t understand what had happened. He looked up into the face of his attacker and met Cadmus’s icy eyes.
Then he looked down at the blade buried in his ribs. His horror blocked out all feeling.
With a sneer, the king dragged the blade through Evander’s body.
Now came the pain—hot as flame. Evander screamed and staggered, drawing his cutlass awkwardly and slashing at Cadmus. His movements were flailing and imprecise, and Cadmus lashed out and struck him in the temple with his sword’s hilt.
Evander sprawled on his back as blood poured down his body and soaked the sand. He felt along his belt and found the cold handle of his shotfire.
“Do you think I don’t know who you are?” Cadmus hissed. “I knew the second I saw you, Evandaine. I know what you and my daughter had planned, but I never imagined you’d betray her to your mother. Never in a thousand years.”
The words swam in Evander’s mind. He couldn’t make sense of them.
Cadmus raised his cutlass, ready to plunge it again into Evander’s chest. “This is how traitors die, Evandaine.”
Evander’s lip curled. “And this is how tyrants die.”
He fired his shotfire through his jacket. The king lurched in a spray of blood and fell in the sand, dead.
For the space of a few labored breaths, Evander lay still and let reality sink in. His body was pierced through, bleeding. His lungs would not inflate properly.
He was dying.
At first, he was angry, then a surge of energy washed through him. Valenna. He had to find her. He needed to say goodbye and tell her she would be alright. She filled his every bleary, pain-addled thought as he rolled onto his stomach and crawled toward the single blooming dragon willow that had survived the destruction. Every sluggish movement was agony, and his jacket snagged on rocks and debris. Evander slid out of it and left it behind.
His consciousness dimming like a candle deprived of oxygen, Evander fought for his life. He had to reach that tree because Valenna would look for him there.Valenna would find him there. He could see her again if he just reached the tree.
Evander’s dark blood left a grim trail over the white petals as he pulled himself, hand over hand, into the dragon willow’s shade.
He needed to live until Valenna found him, so he could tell her he was sorry. He had done his best to return to her, but his best wasn’t enough.With a terrible effort, he rolled onto his back and grappled with death as he would a young dragon—fighting a force more powerful than himself, armed with only his will.
But his mouth was dry, his chest empty of air. Valenna would find his body here too late. No last words. No goodbyes.
A tear tracked down his cheek. This was not fair. This was not how it was supposed to end.
No, Valenna would come soon. If he could hold on one more heartbeat, she would come. One more heartbeat, one more, one more …
