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My face moved into my palms, and my body shook from the despair. My father was invincible, but I’d watched him die before my eyes. It was too much. He’d come here to save someone elseand lost his life in the process. If I’d been quicker, if Wrath had given me this power sooner, everything could have been different.

“I have an idea.”

“What?” I sucked in a harsh breath then dropped my palms from my face. “What—what do you mean?” I left my knees and rose to my feet, stumbling forward because I was weak with sorrow.

“We need to move quickly.”

“Okay—okay. What do I do?” Was there hope that I could stop this? “I’ll do anything.”

“Your father defeated Bahamut with the power of the dragons. A single fuse that had the power to defeat a god. That same power might be enough to save him long enough to heal. Tell Khazmuda. He’ll know what to do.”

My heart raced at the chance to save my father’s life, at the chance to reverse this horrible fate. I stepped away and pushed my mind out to Khazmuda, but by the time I felt his mind, he was already overhead, knowing what had happened to his best friend.

“Roooooaaaaarrrr!” He landed with a thud, and his nostrils flared with flames.

“I know how we can save him.” I rushed up to Khazmuda and blocked his path. “Listen to me. We don’t have time.”

He sucked in a harsh breath, and he started to shake, making noises so strange I couldn’t figure out what they were. A tremble and then a grunt.What is your idea,Zunieth?

“The power of all dragons given to him. An immense strength that could keep him alive long enough to heal. A fuse of all dragons, like you did when he defeated Bahamut. Do it. Quickly.Now.”

Khazmuda closed his eyes, focusing on conversing with all the dragons outside the forest, somehow organizing the effort with just his mind.

I stepped aside and watched him, feeling Wrath’s arm when he appeared close to me. “Please work… Come on… Please work.”

His hand snaked around mine, and he grabbed it, interlocking our fingers.

Khazmuda opened his eyes and moved forward, Queen Eldinar and Uncle Ezra stepping out of the way so he could reach my father. Everyone else stood by and watched, waited to see if their king would rise once more.

Khazmuda lowered his snout to my father’s chest and rested it there.

Seconds turned into minutes. And those minutes started to feel like hours. There was nothing but the sound of burning trees, the aftermath and destruction of war. Khazmuda kept his snout in place, his eyes closed.

My tears had run dry because I couldn’t even breathe right now. I just waited, clung to hope.

And then Khazmuda pulled away, and my father took a breath.

My hand left Wrath’s, and I ran forward and immediately fell to my knees at my father’s side. “Dad…” My hand reached for his, and I felt his pulse, weak and distant. He was cold to the touch.

It is not what it seems.

I looked to Khazmuda.

With the power of the dragons, I’m able to keep him alive. But I can’t get him to heal.

“What—what does that mean?”

Their blades are either cursed or the properties of the gold prevent the human body from healing. Or it slows it so dramatically that the body doesn’t have a chance to recuperate before it loses blood.

I knew there had to be a reason my father was unable to rise again. Because a single stab wasn’t enough to mortally wound someone of such immense strength. “What does that mean, Khazmuda?”

It means we can keep him stable, but if he doesn’t heal, then he’ll be in this state forever.

“Can you talk to him?”

Not right now. But I can feel his mind. It’s weak.

But at least he’s alive…