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“We have to do this now!” Lidishta screamed, clinging to the side of the saddle, looking down at the rapidly closing shield.

Iryana pulled herself to her feet, braid whipping to the side. She had chosen not to listen to her fear. To do what she would if she wasn’t afraid. She could choose to believe in herself, too. To believe she was enough.

Legs shaking as they held her upright despite the wind, Iryana closed her eyes and focused on her magic. It had settled, but they still recoiled from each other like oil and water. It wasn’t enough.

Face scrunching with focus, Iryana commanded them together. Coaxing and massaging those magics and the damaged parts of her to twirl and dance into each other. She shuddered as she pulled both magics toward her hand. Her eyes flew open.

Her beast spear formed slowly, the dark indigo magic a near-perfect blend of water and metal.

It felt right.

As much as Misha had listed the things she’d done, saving the clan, stopping Karvek, bringing the clans and brigades together… they weren’t what made her enough. She finally understood.

She had always been enough.

Iryana finally understood what Lidishta meant—she had been told enough times that she was small and unworthy that she had believed it. But it wasn’t true. She would lead her people and her clan as best she could and they would accept her because she gave them everything she had.

Lidishta met her eyes with a fierce nod. In sync, they stepped onto the edge of the lip as the dragon tilted and they jumped into the air.

Chapter Fifty

Iryana dove through the air. The freezing wind whipped the tears from her eyes as she tried to keep them open. Lidishta fell at her side.

The transparent shield rose from below, the metal shell not closing fast enough. They would make it.

Iryana held her spear outstretched above her, aimed right at the shield.

She could do this. She could do this.

The shield of Noshtiz’s magic was just below her, and her whole body tensed. She didn’t even slow, passing right through. Her magic didn’t rip her apart, though every nerve in her body tingled. Relieved laughter erupted from her.

They were in.

Then there was a strange sensation inside her, like her magic was collapsing in on itself.

She looked over in alarm at Lidishta, who stared back, eyes wide.

Magic erupted from them, great waves of blue and red soaring for the inner edge of the shield. Iryana screamed as the magic just kept pouring out, more than her body had ever been meant to hold. It felt like she was being ripped apart. That familiar feeling of her magics separating came back, and it took all of Iryana’s focus to hold them together.

The fall seemed to last forever, Iryana holding herself together in free fall. She refused to succumb, forcing her eyes back open. She could see Lidishta, face scrunched in pained concentration. But the shield was collapsing above them. Disintegrating at the barrage of magic.

With a jolt, magic stopped channeling through them, leaving Iryana suddenly empty. She breathed, a huge grin overtaking her face. They’d done it.

But they were still falling, rapidly approaching the pit below as the wind battered them. Closer and closer. It looked endless, like they’d fall forever.

Fear made her tremble. She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t see it coming.

Iryana focused on breathing, thinking of her sisters who might survive this now. Might live in a better world. It was worth it. She imagined Pyetar, holding her in his arms and bringing warmth to her freezing limbs. She hoped he survived this.

Then an arm belted around her middle.

Her eyes flew open.

At first, she thought Pyetar was falling beside her.

The dragon was diving, matching her descent. Pyetar was braced against the back of the saddle.

“I’ve got you!” he screamed, the wind muffling his words.