Chapter 29 Rhea
Rhea
The Commander stalks into the room like a perfectly synchronized bolt of lightning, obsidian cloak billowing behind her. She surveys me with those sharp brown eyes, taking in my rigid posture, the aftermath of pain still etched across my face.
“Time to go, Wyndward.”
I nod, grateful she doesn’t ask about my reddened eyes or the tension coiled through my body. Voltguard isn’t one for unnecessary conversation.
She leads me through a narrow corridor I’ve never seen before, then through two sets of doors.
“Where are we going?” I ask, my voice still raw from Cragmere’s attack. From holding in my tears.
“Private exit,” she says curtly. “No need to parade you through the fort for all those prying eyes.”
For once, I appreciate her bluntness. I couldn’t bear to face anyone right now. I’ve had enough of people, so much so that an earthen tomb under the Flametop Mountains doesn’t seem half bad.
The passage leads us to one final door that spills us outside the south end of the fort. Above us, a flash of gold catches the sunlight. I squint upward to see Voltguard’s lightning dragon circling impatiently, his golden-yellow scales gleaming like freshly minted coins against the clear sky.
His massive wings slice through the air with precise, powerful strokes, his barbed tail lashing behind him as if searching for something to strike. Eerie red eyes scan the ground, intense as burning coals, while his curled white horns catch the sunlight, creating a crown-like silhouette.
Even from this distance, I can feel the crackling energy that surrounds him.
Restless and volatile, much like the element he commands.
He releases a sharp, frustrated screech that echoes across the fort’s stone walls, clearly dissatisfied with having to circle endlessly while waiting for his rider.
The dragon is beautiful, compact and sleek compared to Zephyros.
“That’s Indrax,” she says, following my gaze. “He’s not fond of waiting.”
Voltguard gives me a sideways glance, her mouth a hard line. “Call your dragon. We need to move quickly.”
I don’t need to call him. Zephyros is already abandoning his perch on the fort’s western wall, his wings catching the updraft as he heads toward us. His presence in my mind wraps around me like armor.
—Coming.
—Take me away from this place, I respond silently.
Even going to Castle Stonefall seems better right now.
I close my eyes, feeling the familiar power surge through me.
Wind answers my call, coiling around my feet like an eager pet.
With a twist of my wrist, I create Vortex Lift, the air spinning into a compressed cyclone beneath me.
My body rises from the ground, smooth and controlled, the sensation both familiar and thrilling.
Zephyros times his approach perfectly, banking sharply beneath me.
I kill the vortex with a thought, dropping several feet through empty air.
My stomach lurches gloriously as gravity reclaims me before I land in a practiced crouch atop his broad head.
My fingers automatically form Tethers, securing me to him in a dance we’ve performed countless times.
Voltguard looks on from below, and I catch the hint of respect in her expression.
Dragon’s breath, it feels good to use my power again, to feel the wind respond to my commands. I didn’t realize how desperately I’d missed this—this freedom, this control, this piece of myself that nobody can take away. Not Cragmere. Not Vaylen. Not even the mysterious Tahranis.
As Zephyros climbs higher, I let my head fall back, facing the sky.
The wind rakes across my skin, brutal and cleansing.
My hair whips wildly behind me like a battle flag.
I spread my arms wide, embracing the bite of cold air against my face, feeling more alive than I have since waking by that lake.
Zephyros rumbles in my mind, a sound that communicates his contentment.
—Let’s fly fast enough to leave everything behind, I respond, though I know we can’t outrun whatever waits for us at Castle Stonefall.
Or whatever waits inside my fractured memories.
—Say the word, he replies.
But I’m not really ready for that.
Voltguard’s Tethers crackle, bolts of electric energy snapping between her fingertips and Indrax’s scales. She stands on her dragon with the natural grace of someone who’s spent more time in the air than on the ground.
Indrax shoots forward, a golden blur against the endless blue. Zephyros follows, keeping pace effortlessly.
—He flies well, he admits reluctantly.
I nod, watching the Commander’s rigid posture.
Her bun doesn’t loosen, not even now. Her standard goggles are strapped securely, while I create a small Wind Wall in front of my face to divert current.
Zephyros has no supply saddles, no equipment for me to wear.
The way she handles Indrax, guiding him with subtle shifts of her weight rather than relying solely on the Tether is something they lecture about at the Academy, but few unbounded riders master it with such precision.
Before she was Commander Voltguard, she was just Cora, a mere Skybolt who worked her way to Prime of the Skybolt Clutch, then High Prime, and for the last five years, Commander of the entire Sky Order. Every female rider at the Academy learns her trajectory. She’s a legend among us.
I remember sitting with wide eyes as our instructors told us how, during the Battle of Broken Peaks, Voltguard faced the Matron herself.
The Screechclaw queen had cornered twenty riders against the cliffs, her harpies swarming like insects.
Voltguard, then just a Prime, flew Indrax straight into the heart of the swarm.
She created a lightning sphere so powerful it vaporized forty Screechclaws instantly, turning them to ash that rained down on the battlefield.
The sphere expanded outward in pulsing waves, each one catching more of the enemy, until over a hundred lay dead and the Matron herself retreated.
No one had ever generated that much electric power before. They say the air smelled of metal and burnt flesh for days afterward. And she isn’t even bonded to Indrax.
I study her now, trying to reconcile the legend with the stern woman who seems determined to deliver me to the King. What does she really think of me? A troublemaker? A murderess? Or something worse, a danger to the realm she’s spent her life protecting?
After several hours of flight—almost to Emberton—the Commander suddenly banks Indrax toward a forest clearing near a winding river. I follow, curious about this sudden stop when we’re so close to our destination.
Voltguard doesn’t hesitate at the descent.
She creates a column of crackling electricity that shoots from her fingertips to the ground below—a perfect lightning column of power.
With practiced efficiency, she casts a wooden shield onto the electric current, steps onto it, and releases her Tethers.
She drops with breathtaking speed, the electricity guiding her shield downward while keeping her boots from being singed.
The lightning illuminates the clearing in flashes of brilliant blue-white, reflecting off the river’s surface like fragments of shattered sky.
Not to be outdone, I summon my own element.
Wind spirals beneath my feet, forming a controlled column of my own that lowers me to the ground with precision.
My Vortex Drop kicks up leaves and debris, swirling them around me in a miniature storm as I descend.
I land with barely a sound, my boots touching earth as the wind disperses.
The dragons sweep away, crossing the river with powerful wing strokes before settling on the opposite bank. Zephyros dips his massive head to drink, our bond alive with his vigilance.
“Here.” Voltguard thrusts a canteen at me, followed by a packet wrapped in waxed paper. “You need to eat.”
“I can’t wait until I put some meat on my bones and everyone stops telling me that.” I grab the offered items, aware of my parched throat and hollow stomach despite my complaints. “Thanks. Why the stop?”
“Because we need to talk before we reach Emberton,” she says, her expression grave.
My fingers freeze on the canteen lid. Whatever this is, it isn’t good.
“Did you kill Cindergrasp?” Voltguard asks, the question tears through the still clearing like a lightning she wields.
“No.” I lie without hesitation, my face perfectly blank. The word slips past my lips with practiced ease, smooth like silk.
Without even meaning to, I extend my consciousness toward her, my Weaver abilities unfurling like invisible tendrils. I touch the edges of her mind, not deep enough to read specific thoughts, but enough to sense her emotions, her belief or disbelief.
Relief washes through her. She believes me completely.
I withdraw quickly, guilt pricking at me even as satisfaction settles in my chest. Lies protect me. They always have. The truth is a luxury for people who don’t have blood on their hands, who don’t hold secrets punishable by death.
Voltguard nods once, her posture relaxing slightly. “Good. That simplifies matters.”
“You don’t know what the King wants with me, do you?” I ask, taking a long drink from the canteen.
“No.” She sits on a fallen log, suddenly looking older.
I unwrap the piece of jerky from the paper and tear off a piece.
“But I want you to know something, Wyndward. Whatever happens in Emberton, I’ll do what I can to help you.”
I nearly choke on the dry meat. “Why would you help me?”
Her eyes turn hard as flint. “Because I didn’t claw my way to Commander just to throw my people to the jackals when it’s convenient. I’ve seen too many leaders sacrifice those beneath them to advance their own positions.”
I swallow my food thickly, afraid of what’s coming, what I might have to do to remain alive. “Is that what you think the King might do? Sacrifice me?”
“I honestly don’t know what he wants.” She stares at her hands. “But I do know power makes men do terrible things, and you...” Her gaze sharpens. “You’ve become quite interesting to those in power.”
“Lucky me,” I mutter, crushing the empty waxed paper in my fist.
We mount our dragons again, the brief respite over. Voltguard’s words haunt me as we take to the skies, continuing our journey to the capital. Then Emberton appears on the horizon, perhaps my future prison, my gallows.
—You used your power on the Commander. And on Silas and Cragmere before, Zephyros’s voice slides into my mind like cool water. Good. I am glad to see you use your Weaver abilities. They are not something to be afraid of.
—Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who’d be executed for them.
His massive wings beat steadily beneath me as we follow Indrax through a bank of clouds. —I have told you. There was a time when Weavers were as common as breathing in Embernia. Your kind made Skyriders and dragons more powerful. The realm was stronger for it.
I snort, adjusting my Tethers subconsciously. —Then why criminalize us?
—Men fear what they cannot control.
Looking ahead at Voltguard’s rigid form, I consider what it would be like to never hide again. To reach out with my mind freely, to connect with other dragons, other humans.
—It still feels wrong to use my abilities with anyone but you, I admit.
We go over the western limits on Emberton, starting to fly over houses and streets.
—Speaking of other dragons... I hesitate. Do you think Fragor would leave with Vaylen if he broke his oath?
Zephyros’s thoughts darken, a storm brewing beneath his mental surface. —Of course not. Fragor is a coward who forgets our alliance with humans does not mean we have to serve blindly. Heratrix made us vow to protect Embernia, true.
I wait for a moment, then ask him something I’ve asked before, hoping he doesn’t dismiss me again. —What happened between you two, Zephyros?
His silence speaks volumes.
—You know everything there is to know about me. It’s only fair you share your history with me.
—Later, he promises as we make our final approach to Castle Stonefall. First, we learn what the King wants, then we face him if we must. Because I will die before I let them hurt you.
I sense the certainty in his tone and also how hard it is for him to let me do this, to allow me to risk it all for a chance at the life I once imagined for myself. Though perhaps that’s nothing but a dream now, and I should stop chasing it.