-NINE
o. Much. Blood. “Get to the great hall and tell Ridoc Gamlyn that I
need ice now!” I shout at a guard as we pass through the foyer.
“I’m fine!” Brennan manages to say around the handkerchief stanching
the river of blood trying to pour down his face. He tests the cartilage and
cringes. “Damn it, Mira, I think you broke it!”
“I heard a distinct crunch.” I glare at my sister over my shoulder as we
walk into the office where we have history class. It’s set up for cadets, with
a dozen chairs surrounding a hastily constructed table.
“You deserve it,” Mira calls out, shaking off the guard who reaches for
her. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“Leave my sister alone,” Brennan orders, sitting back against the edge of
the table. “It’s a family matter.”
“Family? Family doesn’t let each other think they’re dead for six years.”
Mira leans against the wall to my right, putting me square between them.
“The only family in this room is Violet and me.”
“Mira—” I start.
“Lieutenant Colonel?” Ulices interrupts, pushing through the guards,
and this time his eye isn’t narrowed on me.
“Lieutenant Colonel?” Mira’s gaze swings from Ulices to Brennan, and
she folds her arms across her chest. “At least playing dead for six years
earns you rank.”
Brennan shoots her a look before turning toward Ulices. “I’m fine.
Everyone can relax. I’ve had worse injuries sparring.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time I broke his nose.” Mira offers a saccharine-
sweet smile to Ulices, whose eye narrows on my sister.
A guard squeezes past Ulices, handing me a piece of cloth wrapped
around a thick icicle, and I’ve never loved Ridoc’s signet more. “Thank
you,” I tell him. “And tell the same to Ridoc, please.”
“Deploy every rider currently not scheduled to scout the Tyrrish outposts
as quietly as possible,” Brennan orders Ulices. “We need to know if other
riders are deserting, or if they’re surging here in preparation to strike.”
“With all the extra riders we have,” Ulices mutters.
“Switch.” I issue an order of my own to Brennan, holding out the ice.
“What about the new riot?” Ulices asks. “Same procedure as the cadets’
arrival?”
“Riorson vouches for them, according to Marbh, but make sure the
dragons do as well. Get them up to the valley.” Brennan nods, and blood
trickles off his chin.
Gross.
“Switch,” I say again, waving the ice so he sees it.
Ulices glances at Mira. “You’re sure—”
“I can handle my own sister,” Brennan assures him.
“Don’t be so sure about that,” Mira counters, arching an eyebrow as
Ulices departs, leaving the doorway empty but guarded outside.
“I can’t believe you hit me,” Brennan mutters. “Do you know how hard
it is to mend myself? You? No problem. Doing it for myself? A giant pain
in the ass.”
“Oh, do cry for me, big brother.” Mira scrunches her face as she mocks
him. “You know, the way we cried for you.”
And suddenly, I feel ten again, the smallest personality in a room of
giants.
“I knew you wouldn’t understand.” Brennan jabs his finger in Mira’s
direction and flinches. “Shit, I’m going to have to set the cartilage.”
“Understand? Understand that you let us burn your things?”
“I’ve already had this fight with him,” I assure her.
“Let us watch our mother become a shadow of herself?” she continues
over me. “Let us watch our father’s heart give out because your death broke
him?” Mira pushes off the wall, and I hold up my hand, palm outward, like
I have even a prayer of stopping her if she decides to hit him again.
“Maybe I didn’t go quite that far.” Not that she isn’t speaking the truth,
but damn, that’s harsh.
“Our father would understand what I’ve been doing.” Brennan’s voice
turns nasal as he moves the blood dam.
“Would you please switch cloths?” I ask, water dripping from my fist to
the stone floor.
“And as for our mother.” Brennan stands. “I hope my death haunts her
every damned day. She was so willing to sacrifice my life for a lie.”
“That’s not fair!” Mira snaps. “I may not agree with what she did, but I
understand how she thought it was best to keep us safe.”
“Us safe?” Brennan’s eyes narrow. “You weren’t killed!”
They’re screaming at each other like I’m not even here. Yep, definitely
morphed back into the little silent sister.
“Neither were you!” she yells. “You hid up here like a coward instead of
coming home when we needed you!” She gestures at me. “You chose
complete strangers over your sisters!”
“I chose the good of the Continent!”
“Oh for fuck’s sake! Stop it!” I shout, silencing them both. “Mira, he
was a brand-new lieutenant, and what’s done is done.” Pivoting toward
Brennan, I shove the ice into his hand. “Brennan, put the fucking ice on
your face before you stain the floors, you stubborn ass!”
Brennan slowly lifts the ice to his nose, looking at me like he’s never
seen me before.
“And to think, I used to wish I had siblings,” Xaden says from the
doorway, leaned against the doorframe casually, like he’s been watching us
for a hot minute.
All the fight within me transforms to pure relief, and I walk straight to
him, careful not to slip on the blood Brennan has left splattered all over the
place. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Xaden replies, wrapping his arm around my waist and tugging me
against him.
My pulse skips like a rock thrown across a glassy pond as I soak in
every detail of him. No new cuts or bruises on his face, but who knows
what’s under his riding leathers. “You’re all right?”
“I am now.” His voice softens to that tone he only ever uses with me,
weakening my knees as he lowers his mouth to mine, giving me all the time
in the world to protest.
I don’t.
He kisses me slowly, gently, and I lean up on my toes to get closer,
cupping his stubbled cheeks between my palms.
This right here makes everything worth it. The world could disintegrate
around us and I’m not sure I’d notice—or care—as long as I have him in
my arms.
“Seriously?” Brennan remarks. “Right in front of me?”
“Oh, this is tame for them,” Mira replies. “Wait until they decide to
basically climb each other in a public place. You can’t burn that shit out of
your head, trust me.”
I smile into Xaden’s kiss, and he deepens the pressure but keeps his
tongue firmly behind his teeth—much to my chagrin. He pulls back
reluctantly, but there’s more than enough promise in his eyes to make my
blood heat.
“So what are the Sorrengail siblings going to do now that you’re all
reunited?” Xaden asks, lifting his head to look at my family.
“We’re going to beat the shit out of our brother,” Mira answers with a
smile.
“Survive,” Brennan chimes in.
I let my hands fall from Xaden’s face, then glance at my brother and
sister.
Everything I really, truly love—everyone I can’t live without—is here,
and for the first time in my life, I can protect them. “I need the blood of the
six most powerful riders.”
N
Brennan’s brows fly upward, and Mira’s nose wrinkles like she’s just
swallowed sour milk.
“Ever? Or living now?” Xaden asks without batting an eye.
“Why?” Brennan asks, water dripping from his fist.
“In residence, I think,” I reply to Xaden, then turn to face my siblings
and take a steadying breath. “I know how to raise the wards.”
ine of us—the Assembly, Bodhi, and myself—walk out the back door
of Riorson House five hours later and start up a path cut into the
ridgeline above, climbing the trail in pairs.
“You’re certain about this?” Ulices asks my brother as they walk in front
of Xaden and me.
“My sister’s certain, and that’s good enough for me,” Brennan replies.
“Yes, by all means, let’s waste our time catering to the whims of a
cadet,” Suri calls up from where she walks with Kylynn.
“A cadet who can raise the wards,” Xaden counters.
No pressure.
Shivering, I shove my hands into the pockets of my flight jacket to ward
off the chill as the sun sets behind the mountain. Finally, the trail levels out
and we approach a set of somber guards who step aside so we can pass,
following the gravel path that leads into the mountainside, becoming a man-
made canyon open to the sky above.
Mage lights flicker on as we pass through the chasm, and my stomach
flutters with nervous energy. No, that’s apprehension. Nope… nervous
energy. Whatever it is, I’m glad I skipped dinner.
“We should be using this time to discuss the negotiations with Tecarus,
since we’re all here.” Ulices looks pointedly at my brother.
“Missive arrived today. He wants us to come to his aid when called,”
Brennan says. “The seaside drifts are to be armed first, and he says he’ll let
us bring the luminary back to Aretia—”
“He won’t,” Xaden interrupts.
“—if he can see Vi wield,” Brennan finishes.
“Looks like we need to seek another luminary, because he’ll meet Malek
before Violet,” Xaden says in that calm, icy tone he uses when his mind’s
made up. “Unless you’re eager to never see your sister again. He’ll keep her
as a weapon. You and I both know it.”
“I can talk him out of any thoughts that direction.” Brennan’s jaw ticks.
“If there was another luminary, don’t you think we’d be negotiating for
that one?” Kylynn retorts.
“Then offer him a full armory, because Violet isn’t up for negotiation.”
Xaden looks back and levels a glare at her.
“I don’t mind going.” Our shoulders brush as the path narrows and the
walls of the canyon rise even higher around us. “You need it.”
“I mind it. The answer is no. There is always another way.”
It’s a good thing we’re about to have wards, then. It doesn’t solve our
issue with protecting Poromiel, not until we can build extensions like
Navarre, but at least everyone here will be safe.
About twenty feet in, the canyon opens into a circular chamber that
could easily fit all ten of our dragons, and my eyes are immediately drawn
upward, to where a series of runes lead to the sky. “How have I never seen
this while flying overhead?”
“Very old, very complicated masking runes.”
The riders in front of us part, and the wardstone comes into view.
My lips part, because… wow.
The shimmering black pillar rises to over twice the height of Xaden and
would take all nine of us holding our arms outstretched to surround it.
Etched in the very center, at least six feet across, is a series of circles, each
fitting within the next and boasting a rune carved in along its path. It’s
almost the same pattern as on the pages of Warrick’s journal.
I move toward it, soaking in every detail. “Is it onyx?” I ask Xaden. It’s
massive. Too heavy for even a dragon to carry. They had to have carved it
in this very chamber.
“We can’t say for certain, but my father thought it was polished iron,” he
answers.
Iron rain. My heart jolts. This is really it. We’re about to have wards.
“Let’s get this done.” Ulices’s voice booms through the chamber,
echoing off the high stone walls.
“And what are we doing, exactly, to raise the wards?” Bodhi asks, taking
my other side as everyone forms a half circle around the stone.
“One second.” I pull Warrick’s journal from the protective leather pouch
inside my flight jacket and flip to the translated parchment I left at the
passage before glancing up at the stone to compare the drawings. The
symbol Warrick drew isn’t identical, but it has the runes in the same
positions, so that’s a good sign. “Here we go. ‘And we gathered the six
most powerful riders in residence,’” I read from the parchment, “‘and the
blood of the six and the one combined and set the stone ablaze in an iron
rain.’” I glance around the line. “Six”—I point to the stone—“and the one.”
“You want us to bleed on the wardstone?” Felix asks, his silver brows
rising.
“I’m just telling you how Warrick and the First Six did it.” I hold the
journal up. “Unless there’s someone here more capable of translating Old
Lucerish?”
No one speaks.
“Right.” I dip my chin and study the rest of the translation.
“By our best calculations,” Brennan says, rubbing his hands together to
keep warm, “the six most powerful riders currently in Aretia are Xaden,
Felix, Suri, Bodhi, Violet, and me.”
“Looks like there’s something to be said for family lines,” Suri notes.
“According to Warrick, the First Six bled their life—” I start.
Every head swivels my direction.
“I don’t think it means to death,” I quickly clarify. “Clearly the six lived
on after they constructed Basgiath’s wards.” There’s a definite sigh of relief
around me. “With any luck, it’ll be a quick cut across the palm, place our
hands on the wardstone, and we should have wards.”
“In an iron rain,” Bodhi says slowly.
Suri draws a knife from her side. “Let’s get this done.”
The six of us move to the wardstone, and I tuck the journal into my
flight jacket.
“Anywhere?” Bodhi asks, lowering his own knife to just above his palm.
“The journal didn’t specify.” Brennan draws his dagger over his palm,
then presses his hand to the wardstone, and we all follow.
Hope swells in my chest, rising with my pulse, and I hiss through my
teeth at the bite of pain as I slice. Blood wells, and I push my cut palm
against the stone in line with the others. It’s colder than I expect, warmth
quickly leaching from my hand as blood drips down the shimmering black
surface.
The stone feels frozen. Lifeless. But not for long.
I glance down the line to be sure everyone has their palms flat against
the stone and see six narrow streams of blood snaking their way down the
iron.
“Is it working?” Bodhi asks, bleeding a couple of feet away.
My mouth opens, but I quickly shut it.
No one answers.
Come on, I beg the stone, like I can will the damn thing to life.
There’s no hum, no sense of power—nothing but cold, black stone. It’s
nothing like the awareness that comes from being close to the wards at the
outposts or even holding the alloy-hilted dagger in my hand.
There’s… nothing.
My stomach falls first, then my heart, and finally my shoulders as my
head droops.
“I’m done.” Suri pulls her hand off the stone. “The rest of you can sit
here and bleed all night, but this clearly isn’t working.”
No, no, no.
Felix, Brennan, and Bodhi drop their hands.
Failure clogs my throat, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. I did
everything right. I researched, and read, and stole a primary source. I
translated and double-checked. This is supposed to be the solution. It’s
everything I’ve been working on for months, the key to keeping everyone
safe.
Did we bleed the wrong six riders? Is there an element of magic I
missed? Something more to the blood? What did I miss?
“Violence,” Xaden says quietly.
Slowly, I turn my head to look up at him, expecting disappointment or
censure but finding none in his eyes. But there’s no pity, either.
“I failed,” I whisper, my hand falling away.
He watches me for a heartbeat, then two before dropping his own.
“You’ll try again.”
It isn’t an order, though, just a fact.
“Violet, I can—” Brennan starts, reaching for my hand.
I shake my head, then stare down at the blood welling in the cup of my
palm.
If he mends a cut this fresh, I doubt it will leave a scar. I won’t even
have that to show for the last three months.
The sound of tearing fills the space, and Xaden tightly wraps a cut piece
of his uniform around my palm to stanch the bleeding. “Thank you.”
“You’ll try again,” he repeats, wrapping another strip of fabric around
his own hand.
I nod, and he turns to talk to Kylynn, keeping his voice low.
“Now can we please discuss how we plan to actually acquire that
luminary?” Suri’s tone rises with annoyance.
I stare up at the blood-marked stone, searching for answers it won’t give
me.
“It’s a lost magic,” Bodhi says softly, appearing at my side. He rubs his
thumb over his newly mended, scarless palm. “Maybe there’s a reason this
stone never worked. It might be broken.”
I nod again, incapable of speech. Bodhi. Xaden. Mira. Rhi. Brennan.
Ridoc. Sawyer. Imogen… The list of people I’ve failed goes on and on.
We’re only here because I made my friends steal the journal in the first
place, and then… nothing? Anger sparks in my chest, and power rushes in,
heating my skin.
I don’t fail. I’ve never failed anything in my life. Well, that first RSC
land navigation, but that doesn’t count. That was everyone. This is me.
“Offer the viscount twice the number of weapons he asked for,” Ulices
says, his voice fading with his footsteps.
“I’ll send a missive tomorrow,” Brennan promises as the others walk out
of the chamber.
We have no wards. No weapons. Almost no experienced riders. All
because I acted recklessly.
Power builds, vibrating my fingertips.
Felix moves to my side, his somber gaze studying me before he holds
out his hand.
I blink, glancing at his palm, then up to his face.
“Your hand.” He lifts his brow.
I hold my uninjured one out, and instead of touching me, he tilts his
head and watches the slight trembling of my fingers.
“I suppose we’d better start tomorrow.” He sighs. “Skip the run. We’ll
be training your signet.” His bootsteps echo in the chamber, and I turn,
watching him walk out, my gaze catching on the tight lines of Xaden’s
mouth as Kylynn lectures him with quiet words, the mage lights reflecting
on the steel of her battle-ax strapped to her back.
Xaden was right. War requires weapons.
“Take me to Tecarus,” I demand.
His gaze flies to mine and his jaw flexes. “I would rather die.”
“We all will if you don’t.”
“Not going to happen. Subject closed.” He folds his arms across his
chest and goes back to his discussion with Kylynn.
Fuck this.
I walk straight past him, taking the path out of the chamber. There’s no
way I’m going to leave my friends defenseless when I’m the reason they
got dragged into this.
“Violet!” Brennan shouts, running to catch up with me.
“Go away,” I snap at my brother.
“With that look on your face? I don’t think so.”
“What look?” I shoot a glare in his direction, even though I know this
isn’t his fault.
“The same one you had at eight years old, when you stared Mom down
over a plate of squash for twelve straight hours.”
“I’m sorry?” Rocks crunch underfoot as we make our way down the
path to Riorson House.
“Twelve. Hours.” He nods. “Dad said to let you go to bed, that you
weren’t going to eat them, and Mom said you weren’t going to sleep until
you did.”
“What’s your point?”
“When I got up the next morning, Mom and Dad were both asleep at the
table, and you were snacking on bread and cheese. I know that face, Violet.
When you dig in about something, you’re more tenacious than all of us put
together, so no, I won’t be going away.”
“Fine.” I shrug. “You can be the tagalong sibling for once.” Within
minutes, we’re in through the guarded back door of Riorson House, walking
through the network of hallways to the main corridor. “Tairn.”
“Oh, this should be fun,” Andarna answers.
I feel Tairn’s sigh long before I hear it.
“You know it’s the only way.” Another turn later, we walk into the
overwhelming noise of the great hall. Long trestle tables line the space, and
my gaze skips over each one, bypassing the one where my squad sits and
locking onto the table of new riders who arrived today.
“I will consider it,” Tairn begrudgingly agrees.
“Thank you.” I move through the sea of black with Brennan on my
heels, locking eyes with Mira as I approach where she sits at the end of her
table with her friends.
“Violet?” Her gaze narrows on my bandaged hand before she sets her
pewter mug down.
“I need your help.”
His first true action of rebellion was to seek allies, the first of which was
Viscount Tecarus of the Poromish province of Krovla.
—THE TYRRISH REBELLION, A FORBIDDEN HISTORY
BY COLONEL FELIX GERAULT
X
