Skylar pushes her pin back in her hair and runs to Zryan, who takes his sister’s hand, frowning. Astrid takes his other, ignoring the fizz of electricity that jumps between their palms. “Teleport us to Skylar’s room.”
His fingers flex on hers. “You know I can’t take anyone but you, and even if I could, I can’t Teleport that far.”
“Trust me.” She squeezes his hand and delves into her Gift, seeking that thread once more—that essence of petrichor and salt in the air—and she pushes, pouring her Gift into Zryan. He inhales sharply as it hits him.
“They’re here!” The Dreki rounds the wagon, but they’re already gone.
Skylar is still screaming when they appear back in her room. Bastet rises, but Astrid gives him a quick nod of reassurance. Skylar falls to her knees and Kaida bounds over, forked tongue licking her chin. She throws her hood back, breathing heavily.
“That is the most awful thing I have ever experienced. And I’ve juggled knives blade-first on a tightrope.”
“You’re actually a little unhinged, aren’t you?” Astrid takes off her own hood.
“A little?” Skylar smirks at her. “How the Vaar did we even do that? I thought Zryan could only Teleport himself.”
ASTRID IS ANAMPLIFIER. EXCEPTIONALLY POWERFUL, AS I AM EXCEPTIONALLY POWERFUL WHENIAM IN MY PANTHER FORM.
Astrid rolls her eyes at Bastet. “Aside from the immodesty, it’s true. I Amplified you that day. The day of the ball.” She doesn’t want to saywhen Jessa died, not out loud.
Skylar purses her lips. “I wondered about that.”
The doors to Skylar’s balcony slam shut. Zryan’s hood is down and Astrid can see his face now—he is absolutely furious. “Sorry to break up whatever the fuck this is, but what were you doing down at the warrens?” He’s so mad he’s practically growling.
Astrid’s eyes narrow. “Don’t you swear at us, Zryan de Veras.”
“Did you just… full-name me?”
Astrid marches over to him, getting right in his face. Well, chest. “You bet I did. You can’t speak to me and Skylar that way, especially when you were also in the warrens. What wereyoudoing there?”
“Yes, brother dearest, I’d like to hear this, too.” Skylar has a sly grin on her face, evidently amused by Astrid telling him off.
“I was there trying to save the Blooded packed into those carriages like animals,Astrid Nachstern, but I had to leave them to save a pair of princesses who apparently were in way over their heads, and were about to be captured by my father’s damn guards.”
Astrid steps back, bumping into Skylar, who steadies her.
“You were there to rescue those people,” Astrid whispers. “You—you’reoneof them.” He’s not just helping the rebels escape or turning a blind eye to their rescue missions. He’s working with them. “You’re a rebel.”
Skylar’s grip on Astrid’s arm tightens. “Zryan?” Skylar prompts him, because he’s not reacting. He slips his hands into his pockets, regarding them both, then, slowly, he nods.
“Fuck. Fucking Vaar.” Skylar has summed it up pretty well for the both of them.
Zryan is a rebel. Astrid shakes her head, not quite believing it while at the same time knowing it makes complete sense. It was obvious, even—the sneaking out at night, Mikhael’s rescue. Still. “This is… a bit of a shock.”
Skylar snorts and Zryan’s lips twitch, trying not to smile at what is undoubtedly a massive understatement, but what else is she meant to say?
“You’re working against your own father.” Skylar paces up to him, while Astrid sits on the edge of Skylar’s bed. “And Axel, you’re working againstAxel. He’s— Wait, is he part of this?” It makes Astrid wince, the hopeful edge in her voice.
Zryan hesitates. “He doesn’t know. He and I don’t see eye to eye on conscription, so I do what I can…” He trails off, watching Skylar, who has stalked away from him to the balcony doors, looking out at the night sky.
“Skylar—”
“I’m tired.” Skylar cuts across Astrid. She keeps her back to them both. “Zryan, can you take Astrid back to her room? You can’t be seen leaving here together, not after what happened tonight.”
The dismissal stings, but Astrid understands. Rising to her feet, she approaches Skylar, placing a hand on her shoulder, then reaches out with her magic—finding that thread of shadow and ash—and rather than pour her Gift through it, she sends a burst of warmth, hoping Skylar will feel it like an embrace. The dragon heir shivers, tips her chin to Astrid’s hand, and looks away again.
With one last squeeze, she lets go of Skylar and walks to Zryan, taking his proffered hand. He surveys his sister for a few more seconds, then Teleports.
Once again, Astrid experiences the sensation of being compressed, but it’s not as bad as it usually is. As if she’s getting used to it. Her ears pop as they appear on her balcony, and Zryan, rather than Teleportstraight out again, guides her into the room, hand still holding hers. When they’re inside, she snatches her hand from his and stalks across the room before facing him again. Anger bubbles up inside her, acrid and disorienting.
