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Dom wanted to hold his ground, to raise his own sword to meet Morvan’s. Perhaps then Ridha would be avenged, in some small way. And one of his many wounds would finally begin to heal.

He tightened his grip on his greatsword, squaring his shoulders to Morvan. Some feral part of him roared in pleasure, begging to be loosed upon the black knight.

Another voice answered, echoing from the quieter corners of his mind.

Corayne.

Her name was a bell in his head, tolling still.

Morvan lowered his sword as the stallion beneath him reared.

It took everything in Dom to turn, to leave the black knight in his silence. And leave Ridha unavenged, her death unanswered.

But turn Domacridhan did.

40

Between Hammer and Anvil

Sorasa

She felt torn between awe and annoyance. The dragon that was Valtik shot through the sky, her claws ripping at the other monstrous beast, the pair of them locked together in aerial combat.

Sorasa could not believe her own eyes.

Nor could she believe Valtik had possessed such earth-shattering magicall this time.

The realization came quickly.No, it is not only magic, she thought, all her anger melting away.This is not the work of a witch, but a god.

She turned to run, following Andry as he dragged Corayne backward over the threshold of the castle. Charlie was already inside, Garion with him, both white-faced with shock. The Elders of Kovalinn thronged around Corayne, pulling her to her feet. Isadere was there too, flanked by a pair of Falcons. The Heir was no warrior and pressed into the castle with the rest of them.

Sorasa lingered in the doorway, her body braced against the arch, peering out to watch the dragons race each other across a bloody sky. Her lip curled, watching the blue dragon as its lavender wings unfurled.

Then Sorasa raised a palm, the one tattooed with the crescent moon. A mark of Lasreen, the goddess of death.

“Thank you,” she murmured to the wind before turning back inside.

The receiving hall looked more like a military barracks, piled with provisions and weapons, not to mention mountainous stores of bandages.Optimistic, Sorasa thought, eyeing the medical supplies.That would require someone left alive to tend the wounded.

Corayne steadied herself in the open doorway, eyes impossibly wide.

“Valtik is—” she breathed, overcome.

Sorasa put a steadying hand to her shoulder, gently guiding the Realm’s Hope away from the outside. “She is beyond all of us, now.”

In the shadows, Charlie worried at his lip, looking foolish in his over-padded armor.

“Is it time to barricade the castle?” he asked. His eyes flickered to the doorway, the sky red beyond it, the sounds of battle rising up from the field. “I think it is, just to be safe.”

Sorasa shook her head. Again she pulled at the chain mail beneath her jacket, trying to adjust the fit. It felt like being slowly compressed.

“Not yet,” she huffed. The plan was well known, gone over a thousand times. “We wait until the signal. If the city is breached, we seal the castle gates, and move backward through the keep.” She thought of the vaults beneath the castle, so deep as to escape even dragonfire. “We will outlast them.”

She tasted the lie, bitter on her tongue. Judging by the darkness in Corayne’s eyes, the girl felt the same.

“We will outlast them,” Corayne echoed, her voice hollow.

So they lingered, waiting for news. The Sirandel Elders were quick with their reports, dashing back and forth from their posts on the walls.Sorasa’s heart leapt up into her throat whenever one of the immortals appeared at the door, breathless with fresh news. Each time, she made her peace with surrender, failure, death. Each time, she said a small goodbye to Domacridhan, and whatever hope remained in her withered heart.