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Urkin's boots crunched against the gravel as he approached. "Recruits, this will be your first mission to Sídhe." His eyes fell on me, his lip curling slightly. "Well, for most of you."

"Learn what you can, and report back here," he continued. "I want updates on the state of the Guard's positioning, and any changes made to their strongholds. Especially in regard to the arcanite towers."

The sound of boots hitting ground drew my attention. Aether had dismounted Nihr, his movements controlled but carrying an edge I rarely saw in him. "That wasn't the agreement."

"The agreement changes as I see fit." Urkin's voice carried a warning.

"They're not ready for that kind of infiltration." Aether closed the distance between them, his shadows deepening. "The towers are heavily guarded. If we're caught?—"

"Then you better not get caught," Urkin cut him off. "Or have you forgotten what's at stake here, Second?"

"I haven't forgotten anything." Aether's voice dropped dangerously low. "But sending untrained recruits into Sídhe strongholds is not the right move. You know this."

The air seemed to grow heavier as the two men faced each other. Even the Vördr had gone still, watching the exchange with unusual interest.

"Your concern is noted," Urkin said finally, though his tone suggested it was anything but. "Now get them in position. We've wasted enough time."

"Sir—"

"That's an order." Urkin's eyes narrowed. "Unless you'd like to explain to the Council why we've delayed gathering intelligence yet again?"

Something dark flashed across Aether's face, but he held his tongue.

Urkin turned away from him, making his way toward me. As he neared Tryggar, he lowered his voice so only I could hear. "If you pull anything, if you try to return to the enemy, you'll be damning us all."

"You're damning us all with this mission, sir," I whispered back, refusing to meet his gaze. "They've only been training for a week, and now you want to dangle them like carrots in front of the Sídhe Guard."

"This is war," he said coldly. "I shouldn't have to remind you of that." He turned and strode away, his guards falling into step behind him.

Vexa and Aether shared a quick, tense conversation before she turned to address the group. "Form up," she called out. "We fly in pairs. Stay above cloud cover unless ordered otherwise."

One by one, the Vördr took to the launch platform. I watched as Lael guided Nyx into position, his earlier reluctance carefully masked behind concentration. Rethlyn and Mira followed on Raskr, then Vexa with Theron on Draug. Each pair rose into the gray sky until they were little more than shadows against the clouds.

I waited until last, checking my saddle bag one final time. The memoir was secure, along with the map and Raven's compact. Tryggar shifted beneath me, sensing my anxiety. His wing brushed against my leg—a gesture that felt almost like reassurance.

"Ready?" I whispered to him, though the question was more for myself.

Just as we moved toward the platform, I caught Aether's gaze. He sat atop Nihr, his expression unreadable, but something in those golden eyes made my breath hitch.

I forced myself to look away, urging Tryggar forward until his wings snapped open and launched us into flight. We needed altitude before I could break from the group. Everything depended on timing this perfectly.

The wind whipped stronger as we climbed, carrying us above the fortress walls, past the twisted spires of Ravenfell. Ahead, I could see the others—my friends, though I still felt strange thinking of them that way—arranged in their careful formation. Somewhere beyond them lay Sídhe.

My chest tightened at the thought of what waited there. Raine. Briar. Nazul and Draven. People I'd trained with, shared meals and jokes and dreams with—now potentially facing off against these recruits I'd grown to care for. Facing off against Vexa. Effie. Rethlyn. And Aether… My heart sank.

Laryk...

I pushed that thought away before it could take root, before the ache that accompanied it could make me turn around. What I was about to do was risky—possibly suicidal if Valkan caught me in his territory. But if there was even a chance the siphon was real, I had to try.

Until then, I'd just have to believe that everything would turn out okay. That the Spectres wouldn't be seen. That no harm would come to any of them—on either side.

We broke through the cloud cover, and for a moment, everything was gray mist and silence. Then we emerged into clearer air, and I allowed myself one last look before I turned Tryggar toward Draxon.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The mapof Draxon was clipped across my thigh as Tryggar flew, the parchment fluttering in the wind. Vexa had mentioned Blodfhal—a volcanic mountain range that cut through the center of Valkan's territory. According to the tome I'd found, it reached higher than any peak in Umbrathia. Easy to spot from the sky, I hoped.

I pulled out his compact mirror, flipping it open.