Page 430

"Please don't." I smile. Caelen's expression becomes more serious. "He thinks sending the Chiefs would be stupid."

"His exact word?"

"Worse." That sounds right.

The phase-one deployment leaves before sunset. We watch from the western terrace. Not because we're required. Everyone does. Six dragons. Supply wagons. Ward specialists. Professors. Soldiers. No students. The dragons launch first. One after another.

Wings beating hard enough to move coats and hair.

Students cheer. Quietly. Not celebration. Support. Maybe fear. Maybe both.

I watch until the last dragon disappears beyond the mountains. Four hours. That's how far Elarion is by fast dragon flight. Six by boat. Not far. Until someone you know is there. Then it's another world.

Rhyven finds me after dinner. Or maybe I find him. Hard to tell anymore. He's in the dragon equipment room near Sky Wing storage, checking harness fastenings. Of course. The six Riders who deployed took equipment. Everything that leaves gets recorded.

Everything that remains gets checked again. Rhyven exists in a permanent state of making sure nothing is loose. I lean against the doorway. "Busy?"

"Yes."

"Great."

He doesn't look up. "What."

"Nothing."

"Then leave."

"I could."

"You won't."

"No." His mouth twitches. I walk inside. A large saddle rests upside down across the table. Rhyven tightens something beneath it. His sleeves are rolled up. There is a faint cut along his thumb. Old. Healing.

"The Council refused." I say.

"Yes."

"You agree."

"Yes." I wait. He keeps working. Annoying.

"You think we should stay?" That finally gets his attention. Rhyven looks up.

"Yes."

"Why." His hands stop. Not long.

"I think moving our strongest defense because the enemy changed location is exactly what I'd want us to do if I were attacking." There it is. Simple. Terrifying.

Smart.

"You think they're trying to draw us out."

"I think assuming they aren't would be stupid."

"That's not the same thing."

"No."