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“It’s not the Mareritt. It’s something else.”

I clattered down the stairs and strode through the empty foyer. Guards appeared and quickly unlocked the doors. The air outside was crisp and cold, the sky bright with the flags of dawn. I ran down the steps, only half watching where I was going, relying on instinct and habit as I scanned the dark mountain that loomed high above us.

Then I heard it—the deep, haunting bugle of a drakkon. One that was moving toward Esan rather than away.

Another call, more urgent than before, and the deep pulse of unease flared into dread.

This wasn’t the battle cry of a drakkon.

It was a desperate call for help.

And it was coming from the queen.

5

She appeared a few seconds later,swooping down the sharp mountainside, her body gleaming with bloody fire, and her wings... Túxn help us, her wings were nigh onshredded. How she was maintaining flight, I had no idea.

A warning siren started, the wail ringing out across the still slumbering city. I shouted orders for it to be silenced, then ran out into the center of the courtyard.

“What in Vahree’s name do you think you’re doing?” Damon stopped beside me, one hand on his sword, his bright gaze on the drakkon sweeping toward us. “We need?—”

“She’s in trouble, Damon, and you need to shut up while I contact her.”

I raised a hand, fingers splayed, and reached for her. Felt another mind chasing mine, and realized it was my mother, though she was leaving the bulk of the contact to me.

The queen swooped low, her claws skimming the curtain wall, sending shards of stone flying as she awkwardly sought to slow her speed and gain purchase. Some soldiers scattered. Others raised swords and crossbows.

“Stand down!” I shouted again. “Under no circumstances is anyone to attack.”

She bellowed again, her head snaking left and right, her unease singing through me. Her murderous claws dug into the hard black stone, and she kept her wings outspread and fanning, ready to take off—to react—if attacked. In the brightening light of day, it was very evident it wasn’t only her wings that had been nearly shredded—black blood poured from a dozen different wounds across her body.

What’s happened? Who did this?I asked.

She bugled again, the sound haunting, desperate.Attacked. Need help.

“Bryn—”Damon said, butI raised a hand, stopping the question I had no time for.

For you?I hesitated, fearing I knew the answer before I even asked.Or for your young?

Young. No time. Must come.

How?

Carry. Hurry.

I sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly. I’d always trusted her, but this... this was insane.

Please, she added.They die.

Ohno....

Footsteps had me spinning. Mom ran across the courtyard, one hand clutching her gown and the other gripping a large backpack. My father was behind her, but his gaze was on the massive drakkon who’d claimed the wall, his face a mix of awe and trepidation.

“Trust her and go.” Mom tossed the pack toward me. “I’ll unleash Veri and follow through her.”

I caught the pack with a grunt and slung it over my shoulders. It was damnably heavy, meaning Mom had packed it with everything she thought I might need for drakkon repair—even if repair was not something Esan hadeverdone when it came to drakkons.

“Will someone tell me what in Vahree’s name is going on?” Damon said, the slightest hint of command in his voice.