We’d just scraped the last of our plates clean when the call came. Zander wasn’t with us during breakfast, but while we were heading to the Ascension Grounds, I spotted him cutting through the crowd. His stride was tight, shoulders squared, and the look on his face told me everything I needed to know.
Something was wrong.
“We have a problem,” he said, falling into step beside me.
“You heard about Remy?” I asked cautiously, expecting the sting of judgment or frustration in his expression.
He blinked once, then frowned. “No. You can inform me of Lieutenant Saulter’s antics later.”
My brow furrowed. “Then what?—?”
“Dorian is missing.”
The world tilted.
He kept walking, but his jaw clenched. “He and Foran have lost contact with the horde. His last communication had him flying near the border of Solmia.”
“Oh no.”
Due to the failing wards the outer kingdoms were in chaos, and the Blood Fae could be almost anywhere.
Our dragons landed on the grounds with barely a whisper of sound, their massive wings stirring up dust and dry leaves. Kaelith’s eyes locked with mine, already knowing. Already prepared.
Hein is with me,Zander said, and I could feel the buzz of magic between them.
Without needing another word, Thrall Squad sprang into motion. Cordelle waited for Naia to mount Temil, Ferrula swung easily onto Narvea, and Jax clasped my shoulder before vaulting onto Koddos. Even Tae cracked a joke under his breath—something about missing a hangover—and then launched himself onto Kieren.
I climbed onto Kaelith’s back, settling into place just as her wings stretched out wide.
We took to the air as one, rising together in a perfect formation—an arrow of power cutting across the morning sky.
Whatever was waiting at Solmia’s border, we would face it together.
The skies turned darker as we crossed into Solmia’s territory, the light thinning beneath a quilt of rolling clouds. Ash dusted the air like falling snow, and when we flew over the charred outpost, a sick feeling settled low in my gut.
The outpost had been reduced to blackened bones.
Timber snapped under our dragons weight as we landed, and Kaelith’s wings folded in tight as she lowered her head, sniffing the burned earth.
Jax dismounted beside me and crouched near a pile of scorched armor fragments. “This wasn’t a natural fire.”
“No.” Zander’s voice was grim as he walked slowly through the wreckage. “This was magic.”
The scent of it lingered—sharp and sour, like ozone and decay. I could feel it under my skin, the way Kaelith shifted restlessly beneath me.
“Could Dorian have survived this?” Ferrula asked.
Zander didn’t answer right away. Then, “If he saw it coming, yes. But if they were ambushed…”
“No bodies,” Naia said quietly, running her fingers over a scorched wall still standing. “If they were killed, the dragons would have left some trace. Blood. Bone.”
“They’re not here,” I said. “Which means they’re still out there.”
“Then where would he go?” Jax asked, standing again. “If Dorian escaped, what’s the first place he’d head for?”
“The falls,” Zander said instantly. “He always loved that place. Secluded. Sheltered. Hidden caves behind the mist.”
It made sense.
