Page 345 of Burn of the Everflame

Thump, thump, thump.

Thump, thump, thump.

The sky turned thunderous. Four gryverns emerged from the clouds and raced in a line toward the island. A blue-scaled beast I recognized as the Meros gryvern ducked beneath Diem to catch her on his back. The others swooped around them, spewing plumes of pink, green, and yellow dragonfyre at the island below.

I stared at them, stunned. Though Diem had insisted she was happy to see the gryverns freed, I’d sensed her heartbreak when the others left. Sorae choosing Diem over a future with Tybold had been devastating for all involved. But as I watched the Ignios gryvern now, snapping his jaws with snarls that sounded like orders as the other gryverns grumbled and fell in line behind him, I realized he’d never left Sorae at all.

When I couldn’t spare the woman I loved from war, I’d raised an army to fight at her side.

And so had Tybold.

He glided beside the Meros gryvern, and Diem yelled something to him I couldn’t hear, though when she pointed toward the continent, I sensed her plan. One way or another, her fight and mine would end on this island, but even Ophiucae’s death might not stop his puppet army from ravaging the mainland. The people of Emarion needed the gryverns more than we did.

A curl of smoke puffed from Tybold’s snout, and the Meros gryvern split off from the group and swung toward the Temple. He hovered just above it as Diem slipped over his side, swinging from his talon before dropping onto the platform beside me.

She stared up at the gryverns, eyes lingering on each one until they stopped on Sorae’s mutilated body, still clutched in Tybold’s grip. With her wings this damaged, he’d have to carry her all the way to the mainland—a grueling task, even for a strong gryvern like him. An energy-draining, muscle-snapping, body-destroying task. Maybe an impossible task.

I knew he’d do it.

And I knew he wouldn’t stop fighting until the home Sorae loved was safe.

“One last fight?” Diem shouted.

Sorae gave a trembling howl, followed by Tybold’s roar. The other gryverns flew in silence, and Tybold nipped at the edges of their wings until they each gave reluctant-sounding chuffs.

I pulled myself to my feet and limped to Diem’s side, taking her hand as we watched them soar away—Vexes of Sophos, Arilloc of Meros, Onaar of Arboros, Rosha of Faunos, and our treasured Sorae of Lumnos, led by the fearsome Tybold of Ignios.

“Goodbye,” Diem whispered, tears sparkling on her lashes.

“We’ll see them again,” I insisted. “Ophiucae’s army is no match for six gryverns. Once they arrive, the war is won.”

“Only if he dies.”

Her skin glimmered brighter.

I held up her hand, studying the shimmer overtaking her bronze skin. Even if her godhood had somehow escaped the effects of her broken bonded bargain with Doriel, it should have vanished once she set foot on the island. Seeing the evidence of her power shine so defiantly was the final piece of a mystery that had been lingering in my thoughts for some time.

“Diem, look,” I said, stroking my thumb over the back of her hand.

She turned her palm upright, forehead wrinkling. “I still can’t feel my godhood.”

“But you feel something, don’t you?”

Her gaze cut to mine, searching, shadowed with doubt, though she didn’t deny it. She looked out at the Meros Descended. They watched us with foggy, vacant eyes and outstretched arms. Something kept them from breaching the Temple—perhaps the godstone it was built with, or perhaps Ophiucae’s orders.

“What if this means Ophiucae still has his magic?” she asked. She scanned the island’s rolling landscape until her eyes stopped on an area near the eastern coast where a circle had appeared in the Merosians’ midst.

She looked back at me. “Swear to me that you’ll do exactly what I say. If we don’t do this right, we’ll both end up dead. Everyone will.”

I frowned. “Tell me your plan.”

She shook her head. “There’s no time. Please, Luther, I need your promise. Now more than ever.”

My heart, and all my better instincts, screamed their answer: No.

But when my Queen needed me, I could not refuse.

“I promise.”