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  “Now!” Ayden shouted, and the Dragons he had convinced to Kinna's side leaped off the cliff, winging down into the inferno of bodies, their breaths ripping streams of fire across the Griffons.

  Griffons were not dumb beasts that had no thought for what to do next, wildly slashing and biting where they had opportunity. They were calculated creatures, observing a situation for the best method and then organizing into a caucus of attack, launching themselves, three at a time, at a Dragon, distracting him with one, while the other two clawed at the Dragon's back, wings, and snout.

  They were fairly evenly matched creatures, and Ayden stood on the ledge with the rest of the Dimn as they watched their beasts. Luasa was in the thick of it, whirling her mirrored body this way and that.

  The Dragons were a fearsome lot, but the Griffons had turned from two forces, one for Sebastian and one for Nicholas Erlane, and become a single force, Griffons against Dragons. They far outnumbered the reptiles.

  All at once, a light—a strong, bright light that had nothing to do with fire or Dragon glowed like a speck from the south. It grew in intensity and size and strength, and with it, music like the high songs of the Ancients swept across the valley. In its path, Griffons stilled mid-flight, buffeting to the ground. Dragons twisted into paralysis. Nothing moved in the path of the song.

  “What under the Stars?” Ayden breathed, astonishment streaking through him.

  The song froze everything. Ayden only hoped Kinna was able to carry about her end of the plan before it hit her, too.

  In the meantime, none of the creatures could stand in the presence of such intense taibe.

  And then, he recognized the weaver of such magic.

  Helga.

  Lincoln must have reached the taibas where he'd hidden her and brought her here, and now Helga was here to end Sebastian's war. Ayden felt the vibration in her song, and he himself couldn't even move while it was happening, but he also knew even the most accomplished taibos or taibas wouldn't be able to hold that intensity forever. She would need help when the magic lessened.

  A sharp command to Luasa jerked the Dragon's head toward him, and then the intensity broke. Luasa launched herself forward, sweeping Ayden up in her talons. He snatched hold of her wing and hauled himself onto her back, peering around her neck at the source of the rapidly shrinking light.

  He dove toward Helga.

  The Griffons and Dragons had come alive again, and frenzy ensued.

  Helga was by no means unprotected. Flashes of powerful light came from where she stood deep in the valley, just over the ridge from the main portion of Sebastian's forces. Luasa neared her, and Ayden shouted, “Helga!”

  The taibas looked up, instant recognition on her round face. Her pink hair whipped in a wind that circled her, a turbid twister of taibe.

  She threw powerful protection spells against the Griffons that flew at her, and the beasts hurtled away. Ayden could see the strain on her face as she concentrated.

  A moment later, he was there, and he reached down his arms, lifting her onto Luasa's back.

  “Well done!” she shouted back at him. “This will be easier.”

  Ayden carried her high into the sky, and he felt the power emanating from her as she hurled light below, blinding man and beast, Dimn and creature beneath a spell so powerful that not one could stand against it.

  Ayden felt his own power thrumming from his fingertips in the presence of such a compelling taibas, and supplementing her flood of light below onto the creatures, fire arced from him in a flaming tempo as he fully acknowledged, for the first time, his own powers.

  He embraced the fire that burned within him, a result of the spark that Kinna had lit inside of him so long ago, and he became one with it.

  And so, Luasa, a flaming, fiery, tempest from the skies, burst into the clear air, arcing over ClarenVale and the armies that stretched across the battlements and the slopes above the city. She released a spread of fire that claimed fieldspans, blazing the sky in a massive current of strength, stretching over the castle, lighting thousands of faces of both creatures and soldiers on both sides as they watched with absolute awe.

  They thought the end was coming.

  Perhaps it was.

  But when Luasa touched down on the upper slopes of the Marron Mountains and Ayden had bid farewell to Helga with promise of seeing her soon in West Ashwynd, he turned to find Sebastian's soldiers striding between the trees instead of Kinna and the others he had hoped to meet.

  Before he could react, before he could even pull flames—or ash—to his hands, he was caught, bound, and marched down the mountains.

  Victory was short-lived.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Cedric

  Cedric lay in the apothecary's chambers, drifting in and out of consciousness. The little man had done his best with the wound. The site was packed with firewort, and Cedric knew only time would bring the healing that he needed, but he hated it. He wanted to be up, to find a way out, to regain his friends, leave Nicholas Erlane's castle once and for all. He had only stayed behind for Ashleen, after all, and then in a fit of panic, he had sent her away on Ember's back.

  He'd do it again, too, if he had the chance. She was free now, no longer a slave to Erlane and his megalomanic aspirations.

  He missed her.

  He missed Ember, too.

  He tried to push himself higher on the scratchy blankets that covered him, but the jolt of pain that shot through his shoulder held him still.

  The apothecary entered and hurried to his table, picking up his pestle to grind some herbs. He glanced at Cedric, but didn't speak.

  “What is happening?” Cedric asked, and the man dropped his pestle. He retrieved it with shaking fingers, confirming Cedric's suspicions that something was amiss.

  “N—nothing, Dragon-Master.”

  “Tell me the truth,” Cedric demanded, the steel that was missing from his body evident in his voice. “I wish to know, and your very manner tells me that something is happening.”

  The apothecary ground the herbs into powder and didn't stop, even when they were mere dust on the mortar. “Sebastian's army waits outside the walls,” he said. “It is likely that the castle will be under attack by daybreak.”

  Cedric leaned back on his pillow and stared at the ceiling. Ashleen and Ember would be out there, and he knew them enough to know that they would not just leave him in the castle. They would be plotting a way back in. But if Sebastian caught sight of the distinctive torn fin on Ember's head, he would know whose Dragon it was, and would likely try to use him to his own advantage.

  Hate boiled inside of him. He had to get out, somehow.

  When the apothecary had repacked Cedric's herbs, he left the room. Cedric, exhausted from the bandage change and the pain that accompanied it, wiped the sweat from his face, flinching at the lance of agony that shot through his muscles, and sat up. He pulled his feet from the bed, dismayed to realize the apothecary had taken his boots. He'd have to find them.

  His feet touched the cold stone of the floor, and he'd just about made up his mind to get up when Lianna's voice stopped him.

  “I don't think so,” she said, entering the room and pushing him back onto the pillow. His muscles failed him; he had to lie back.

  “Let me out of here,” he demanded, his voice low and furious. “Whatever you think you have over me, whatever you think I can do for you, I won't, and there's no sense in pleading for it.”

  “I'm not going to ask you for anything,” Lianna said, sitting on his cot and smoothing the blanket over him.

  He shuddered in revulsion. He wanted nothing more than to leave her presence. The kisses they had shared months earlier appalled him.

  “Lianna, I'm not asking, I'm demanding. Stop whatever plans you've concocted in your head. They're not going to come to anything.”

  “On the contrary,” she said as she leaned over him, smiling full into his face, “they mean everything.”

  Cedric couldn't
help but ask, “What are you going to do?” And then he hated himself for showing interest, as her smile widened and she sat up again.

  “Wouldn't you like to know? But I can promise you,” she said as she stroked her fingers along his cheek and he flinched away, “you'll be right in the middle of it.”

  * * *

  Cedric's mind ran rampant with panicked thoughts all through the following day into the evening. He wanted to know what was going on; there was bustle about the apothecary's room that seemed unusual. He heard shouts and occasional screams, but muffled, as if from a distance. Sometimes, running footsteps pounded through the palace halls, or the slam of a door echoed down an empty corridor.

  Cedric caught the apothecary once when the man came to leave him his noon repast on a tray.

  “Please,” Cedric asked, “what is going on?”

  The old apothecary lifted tired, gray eyes, nervously smoothing the sparse hair over his ear. “We are at war, Dragon-Master.”

  “Sebastian attacked?”

  “So it seems.”

  “What is the news? Which way does the battle lean? Will they breach the gates?”

  The apothecary shook his head. “I don't know, Dragon-Master.” He turned to leave, and Cedric sat back in frustration, hardly able to eat.

  Lianna visited him twice through the day, but even she seemed distracted, her fingers picking nervously at his blanket.

  “You will ride a horse tonight,” she said at one point, her eyebrows drawn, frowning as if she dared him to contest her statement.

  “Not a Dragon?” Cedric asked sarcastically, folding his arms over his chest.

  “I don't trust you, Dragon-Master,” was her only response.

  Cedric snorted and turned away, worried about Ashleen and Ember.

  The afternoon waned, and the apothecary returned. “Her ladyship wishes you to come with me,” he said, holding a dark, hooded mantle in his hands. “I am to help you down to the courtyard.” His voice shook, and Cedric wondered if perhaps he should help the apothecary down the steps.

  The man approached the bed and bent, sliding Cedric's good arm around his shoulder, standing as Cedric balanced on his feet. Dizziness swept over him as a shot of pain rocked his body.

  “This way,” the apothecary said. He fumbled with the door handle, helping Cedric slowly into the hallway. It was a long trek to the courtyard, and when they reached it, the apothecary only continued down the deserted corridor. Outside the windows, soldiers ran by, and shouts still split the air.

  At one point the apothecary pulled Cedric into a sheltered alcove, nearly opening Cedric's wound again, holding his trembling hand against Cedric's mouth as a company of soldiers trotted down the corridor.

  The apothecary removed his hand after they had gone and swiped a trickle of sweat from his gray face. Cedric raised an eyebrow.

  “I don't believe you are well,” he said.

  “I am well,” the apothecary muttered through lips that hardly moved. “What you see on my face is fear. If I am caught, I am a dead man.”

  “We both are,” Cedric murmured, peering around the corner to the dark exit from the corridor. They hurried forward again, finally exiting into the darkness at the end.

  There Lianna waited beneath a row of willow trees that lined a courtyard wall. “This is the central courtyard, behind the throne room,” the apothecary whispered. “All soldiers are on the outer walls, and Nicholas Erlane himself is in the highest turret overlooking the battle right now.”

  “Aye,” Lianna said as she approached them. “It's the best place for this.”

  “For what?” Cedric asked.

  “You'll see.” Lianna smiled, the look of a cat who had caught its prey.

  Two horses waited beneath the tree behind Lianna. The apothecary helped Cedric to one of them, but it took both the old man and Lianna to heft Cedric into the saddle.

  Dizziness again swept over him, and he clung to the horse's mane. Lianna mounted the other horse, and the apothecary, in the midst of the eerie quiet of the castle, took Cedric's lead on his horse's halter and pulled him alongside Lianna's horse as she touched the animal with her heels.

  They weren't heading toward the front entrance. Cedric didn't know of any other entrances or exits from the castle, but apparently, Lianna did.

  They reached a set of double doors, and the apothecary turned a winch that pulled them open with a rattle and clang. Cedric looked around, waiting for the inevitable rush of guards, but all was silent. The castle was enormous, a city within walls, and yet no one noticed them or disturbed them. All eyes were trained on Sebastian's army at the front.

  All at once, Cedric realized that this was on purpose. Lianna had a plan, and Cedric was willing to bet that somehow, Sebastian played into that plan. Unease ripped up his spine, overwhelming the pain radiating through his shoulder.

  The apothecary bowed. “This is where I leave you, my lady.”

  “You've done well.” She nodded gravely. “You may return to your post.”

  The little man bowed again and shuffled into the shadows of the courtyard, hardly visible as he moved from pillar to pillar until he disappeared into the corridor again.

  Lianna's horse led the way into the dark depths of the tunnel that had opened before them. The heavy doors slowly slid shut behind them, closing with a clang that held the air of finality.

  Cedric clung to his horse's mane, half tempted to turn around and clatter back toward the doors, half tempted to charge ahead of Lianna and face whatever waited for him. In neither direction lay freedom. Back meant imprisonment, most likely in Erlane's darkest dungeon, and forward stretched the unknown.

  They were going downhill; gravity pulled Cedric forward on his horse's back as the animal carefully picked its way down a slope. In the distance, Cedric could hear the sound of moving water. The air turned cold and damp around him, plastering his skin with moisture, soaking his tunic and breeches. His boots at least protected his soles, and he was thankful that the apothecary had remembered to place them on his feet before they made their trek down the corridor.

  “Where are we going?” He was irritated that he had to ask.

  A smile arced across Lianna's face as she glanced back at him. “Wouldn't you like to know?”

  “Aye,” Cedric exhaled, frustrated, his shoulder lancing with pain. “That's why I asked.”

  “And I choose not to tell you,” Lianna said. “Not yet, anyway. Be patient, Dragon-Master. You'll find out soon enough.”

  * * *

  Their horses twisted around one last turn, and Cedric pulled his animal to a stop, staring. Torches lined cavern walls and flickered across an expansive cavern of water as far as he could see. Two servants stood on the boat dock, their gazes fixed on Lianna.

  “What is this place?” he breathed.

  “This is the water supply for ClarenVale,” Lianna said, smiling. She dismounted and grabbed the halter on Cedric's horse, leading him to a holding stall near the dock. Placing a stool beneath Cedric's feet, she gripped his hands tightly as he grunted with the exertion of dismounting.

  When his feet touched the ground, one of the servants pulled his horse farther into the stall. Cedric jerked his hands away from Lianna, anger writhing inside him that he'd accepted her help. “Where to now, then?” he asked, hoping she wouldn't lead him to the boat that dipped in the ripples of the lake.

  She did. “Onward and upward,” she said enigmatically as the servant stepped into the boat first and armed himself with oars. The other servant helped Lianna down into the boat, and then Cedric.

  He sat, facing Lianna. The boat glided onto the lake, leaving the dock behind.

  Cedric studied Lianna with her blonde hair and her blue eyes and her fake smile. “Who are you really, Lianna?” he asked as the boat sped over the water. The oarsman breathed heavily, but his oars made little noise as they dipped in a steady rhythm that sent them clipping along at a great pace.

  “What do you mean?” For the first
time, her smile slipped a little.

  “Who are you? It's not a hard question.”

  “I'm Nicholas Erlane's niece, of course.”

  Cedric leaned forward, ignoring the pain that shot through his shoulder. He wondered how long the bandage the apothecary had applied would stay.

  “Aye, but beneath that. The girl who came to West Ashwynd, where is she? The one who had ideals and dreams for her people, the one who wasn't afraid to stand up to Sebastian and his underhanded deals? Where did that one go?”

  A blush tinged her cheeks, and her gaze flicked downward, but only for a second. “That girl is still there, Cedric. She's just ... grown up a little, that's all.”

  Cedric leaned back, nodding thoughtfully. “She's grown, yes, but perhaps far away from the ideals that she once held.”

  Lianna's blue eyes snapped. “That is not true. I've always wanted to help my uncle—”

  “By betraying those closest to you? The Lianna I knew never would have done that.”

  Silence cloaked them, and their angry gazes clashed. At last Lianna drew a deep breath. “The Lianna you knew was a naive girl who had naive dreams about an honest world. No one is that good.” She paused. “Not even your father, for all his fame and popularity.”

  Cedric clenched his jaw. Anger ripped through him, and he refused to speak.

  They approached a dark opening. The oarsman had to strain, as the current was stronger here, and the boat seemed to make little headway. He tacked the boat from one side to the other, guiding it toward the opening and a dock that stood just outside. Moonlight coated the dock in silver beams.

  “I didn't know there was another exit from ClarenVale,” Cedric murmured as they drew close to it.

  “You don't know many things,” Lianna said, tossing the rope from the end of the boat over the piling when they drew close. The oarsman held the boat steady as Lianna stepped onto the dock and then pulled Cedric from it, hefting his uninjured arm over her shoulder.

  “Aren't you worried I'll choke you?” Cedric asked, ignoring his pain.