I kicked the mask away, loosening another button from my coat.
My body had cooled down, but not enough, and staring at the bloody battlefield didn’t help.
“I know something that will lighten that dreadful mood of yours,” Dax sing-songed from behind.
I turned to find him standing right next to the discarded wings, which had miraculously survived the entire ordeal. He was grinning from ear to ear and looked suspiciously invigorated, despite the cuts on his hands.
He was right. Seeing him alive and happy did lighten the strain on my shoulders.
“How, in all of Malhaven, did those blasted things withstand the mist?” I asked.
“I have no clue.” He shrugged. “But we’re very lucky they did.”
“I’m not flying again, Dax.”
Never.
Ever.
In the distance, I felt Ryker’s quiet sigh of relief, followed by a chuckle.
“It appears they’re useful in more ways than one,” he said. “Such as hiding someone behind them.”
Dax kicked them out of the way, revealing Lioran’s slumped body. His hands and feet were bound, and a line of drool cascaded from his open mouth in the most unceremonious way.
I stared at him, lips parted. “He’salive?”
“Yes.” Dax puffed up his chest. “He begged to be captured.”
Chapter 84
Allie
Ryker pushed Lioran into the lone seat awaiting him in the dungeons the second he’d recovered consciousness. His chainmail armor, devoid of blood but muddied, rattled as he readjusted his position.
Only the two of them, Dax, and I would witness this discussion.
“It smells like goat.” Lioran grimaced.
“If I were you, I’d be thankful my nose hasn’t been broken yet,” Dax said. “Though that can be arranged.”
Lioran twitched his cheeks, trying to dislodge the blindfold. The leather creaked, but didn’t budge, and he gave up with a huff. “There really is no need for such melodrama. My powers do not concern the mind. They still lie with the sea’s song, like our great ancestors’ before–”
“Why did you beg to be captured, Lioran?” Ryker’s voice cut through the dungeon.
“I did not beg.” Even blindfolded, with his hands and feet tied, he stuck his nose up in the air. “I simply propositioned a negotiation–”
“You are in no position to negotiate,” I said. “But your stay here will depend on what answers you give us.”
“No need to be melodramatic, I am a willing prisoner. And I have come prepared with information.” Lioran shook his head. “What do you want to know?”
“Where’s Beren?” Ryker asked.
“I don’t even know where I am,” Lioran said haughtily. “Probably ran away. I’m sure he had an exit plan he didn’t deign to tell us about.”
“Whatdoyou know?” I asked.
Lioran sighed. “That your uncle knows who emptied your vaults. A secret he promised to take to the grave.”
