I stared at him. “Of course she is.”
“She’s two,” Kieran said dryly. “This tracks.”
Enya huffed from behind us. “Slipped off during the celebrations. That one is always running.”
My instincts screamed to go after her, but I could barely wobble. It was impossible to find her parents in the crowd, and it wouldn’t be good to ruin the party by panicking everyone. Benedict hesitated, no doubt having the same struggles.
Did we call for her parents? Did we send guards?
Benedict’s lips thinned, as if coming to a conclusion he didn’t like. His gaze shifted to Ronan.
Kieran stepped forward without hesitation. “Great idea. Ronan can get her.”
Benedict’s jaw tightened. His anger flickered there, but he didn’t say no.
“Benedict,” Kieran pressed, gripping the wooden railing tightly. “Let him make it up to you.”
There was a tense beat of silence while he considered it.
“Fine,” Benedict said. “Bring her back.”
Ronan blinked. “You’re sure?”
“Yes, you,” Kieran said, clapping him on the shoulder and grinning.
Ronan straightened slowly.
“I will,” he said. “I swear.”
Benedict rolled his eyes. “Yes, that’s the idea.”
The noise of the crowd faded in my ears, even though I knew it hadn’t.
“I won’t fail,” Ronan added, quieter.
“You won’t,” Benedict said, sharply, but not unkindly.
Kieran gave Ronan a shove toward the edge. “Go.”
Ronan didn’t hesitate again. His wings snapped open—bronze catching the lantern light—and he launched into the sky, cutting through the celebration like an arrow.
Straight toward the dark silhouette of the volcano.
The music surged again behind him, petals swirling upward. Below us, the island roared with life.
And Lyoness, our home, welcomed whatever came next.
Chapter Eleven
VESKOR
The island glowed like a nest of stars above me. I circled higher around its edges, not wanting to be spotted. Luckily, the air witches were on the ground, celebrating with the rest of them.
Lanternlight shimmered along the branches, flickering off wings and scales and woven magick. Drakens—my kin, my blood—danced and sang beneath the trees. Children screeched with laughter. Witches of every kind gathered, filling the air with music and beauty.
I landed roughly on the edge of the volcano, cold ashes clutched in my claws. The wards were thin and brittle here—like a wraith everyone had forgotten about.
You are forgotten as well. You do not have a home. You don’t get nice things and nice people.
