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A side glance at Sterling confirms he’s ensnared in the web of counsel seekers. His face, a mask of stoic resolve, betrays nothing of his earlier doubt.

Probably because this is a tactical problem that requires information gathering and military prowess, and Sterling excels at both.

My focus narrows to escape, to breathe without the stench of desperation clogging my senses. Sterling won’t need me, and I have no desire to stand here while people discuss the dangers from Aclaris, a place I once called home.

I turn to my mother, not missing her ashen face. “I think I’ll go to my chambers. There’s nothing I can do to help right now.” I take her hand, leading us toward the doors, my steps light, and my wings spirited away to avoid hindrance or detection.

“That’s a good idea, dear. This is no business of ours. Unless Crown Prince Knox asks for us, and then we will of course assist him in any way we can.” Mother slips out the door, looking both ways. “It might be best we separate as well. That way, people won’t think we’re conspiring.”

My heart clenches at the fear in her voice. She’s lived under King Xenon’s reign, aware of how cutthroat he can be, for longer than I’ve been alive. She knows he never acts without thinking through every implication and possible outcome. But she never understood his intentions.

“Take care of yourself.”

She stops, smiles, and pats my cheek. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll go back to my room. Maybe you should head to the fire paddock. Remind the people of why you are so important to Tirene. Hurry.” She pushes me away, then heads in the other direction.

For a moment, I watch her go. My loving, kindhearted mother. She walks alone toward the king’s wing, weaving through the press of Tirene nobles. Though her lack of wings announces she’s not one of them, her head remains high.

Mimicking her courage by lifting my own chin, I head in the other direction, toward the walkways that will take me to the courtyard and the fire paddock. As a dragoncaller who can share an emotional connection with dragons, I spend as much time as I can there. And my mother is right.

As the lone dragoncaller in all the kingdoms, making an appearance with the revered creatures will remind the Tirenese that not only am I one of them, I am also needed.

Hopefully.

With every step, the tether linking me to the majestic creatures strengthens. Distance weakens our bond, as do the thick marble walls of the palace. Unless I focus, I can only sense their strongest emotions and vice versa.

The people milling around shoot me glances ranging from friendly to wary to downright hostile. My reception here in Tirene has proven to be a little rocky. Overall, I think more locals accept me now than they did when I first arrived, but any negative mentions of Aclaris or Xenon tend to reignite their suspicions.

Now that Mother has left, I can’t help but remember the three assassination attempts aimed at me. We never did find the exact culprits, though the blame went to a small group smuggling tainted eyril into the country. So far, they admit to the smuggling but continue to claim no knowledge of the attempts on my life, and despite their current internment in the palace dungeons, worry continues to niggle at me.

Especially after the court messenger uttered the terms “Aclaris” and “war” in the same sentence.

Suddenly, the hostile glances feel more threatening. My pulse leaps, and my feet quicken their pace.

I turn down an empty corridor. As I rush past an alcove, a flash of motion catches my eye.

A strong arm wraps around my waist, jerking me to a halt. A hand slaps over my mouth.

For a second, I think Sterling slipped away from his obligations to drag me into the shadows again.

I believe that right up until the sharp, medicinal scent scalds my nostrils.

My heart lurches, magic surging hot and ready beneath my skin.

Before I can unleash the flames, though, darkness descends.

My breath catches, and my vision blurs.

My thoughts fragment, scattering like embers in the wind.

“Ster—” His name dies on my tongue.

“Easy now. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The deep, craggy voice is unfamiliar. Male.

That’s my last coherent thought before the ground tilts and plunges me into the void.

Invisible currents carry me away. I drift, far from Sterling, from safety, from…