Chapter 1
SANCTUARY
Lark flinched as the memory of Barrik’s brismil sword piercing her side stirred her awake.
She palmed the wound with her good arm, blinking through her delirium.
Wind washed over her face, clearing her umber hair from her sharp green eyes as they came into focus.
She saw a sprawling landscape before her from a bird’s-eye view.
Not a bird’s eye, though, a dragon’s. Her dragon’s, White Eye.
They flew toward snow-covered mountains in the distance.
The morning sun reflected shades of amber and gold off the foggy blanket of clouds that skirted the steep slopes ahead.
Yet Lark could barely appreciate the stunning beauty of the wintery North.
“Where are we?” she asked, no longer seeing the Everburning Forest anywhere in sight.
White Eye snorted, one of his memories passing through their bond.
She experienced a moment of panic as she realized none of her companions were with her.
Venrick and Ingamar, Hardin and Sasja, even Nix were nowhere to be seen.
White Eye’s memories showed her how he had carried her away from Red Lodge, leaving the dead Magi Joc behind and letting Barrik escape yet again.
They’d left the cover of the forest days earlier.
Most recently, they’d holed up in a cave outside a Northern town in Fjern’s Kingdom, waiting for a blizzard to blow through.
Despite their frequent stops for rest and healing, Lark wasn’t able to maintain consciousness.
She’d been in and out of sleep, unable to control where White Eye was taking her.
Each time they stopped, he’d used more of their combined energy to heal the lance in side, choosing to prioritize her stab wound over her broken wrist.
Brismil, she thought, remembering that she’d given it to Hardin. But then, she remembered something. I have my own brismil armor. My own blade…
Lark remembered it now, that she’d hidden them after her fight with Barrik; their first bout when she’d stolen the Hyalite from him.
Lark twisted to search her saddle. Pain lanced through her arm and she clutched her still-broken wrist tightly against her chest. “Ah,” she groaned as the pain throbbed with each beat of her dragon’s wings.
“White Eye, where are you taking me?” she asked him again.
He remained focused on the mountains in the distance.
Lark could sense his determination to bring her there, wherever that may be.
She wasn’t sure even he knew exactly. She frowned, having been on the receiving end of this exact feeling before.
It was that draw that she’d felt coming from Nix, urging her to go seek her out in the Everburning Forest. A primal force was pulling White Eye.
Almost as though he was responding to another bond.
“White Eye, we’re no longer in harm’s way. You can stop flying,” she said, trying to get her bearings. “Did you hear me? I want to turn back and find Venrick and the others.”
Lark didn’t recognize the rolling hills below them. The snowy terrain bled out from the mountains in the distance, coating everything in a fresh dusting of snow. As the sun was now to their right, Lark put together that the Everburning Forest was somewhere far behind them.
White Eye ignored her, continuing to fly his pre-determined path.
“We’re wasting time,” she said.
Her dragon answered with a throaty rumble from deep within his chest. The sound was laced with sharp edges of stubbornness.
The lark pendant around her neck flickered anxiously, sending warmth splashing across her chest in nervous waves.
Nix? she wondered, sensing the fire fae but not seeing her.
Nix’s energy came in erratic swells through Lark’s necklace.
Is she hiding from something? Lark thought, suddenly wondering how she could’ve ever forgotten that the pendant was designed as a vessel to safely house her fae companion.
During her time struggling with amnesia, Lark had rediscovered how the pendant formed a pathway for her to access magical energy from the fae realm, because of her bond with Nix.
As they flew, Lark sensed Nix nearly ready to emerge, only to default to remaining hidden in the safety of the necklace.
Is this because of Barrik? Lark thought, sweeping her gaze across the horizon.
She didn’t see her mentor, the man who called himself her Uncle, though he was not her blood relative.
He had trained her. He had taught her to be ruthless.
And he had betrayed her and her countrymen to seek higher power.
And now, she had no idea where he might be.
Come to us when you’re ready, Lark sent the thought toward Nix.
By mid-day they had approached a frosty mountain range. She studied the outline of the jagged icy peaks rising above the layer of clouds clinging to the base.
We’re in Fjern, she realized, recognizing this mountain range but not immediately able to place its location on the Nordraven map.
A memory surfaced then. Lark was standing in Skol’s dragon aerie as a young rider, an elf was painting the silhouette of these mountains with a blue ethereal light. The spine-like line emerging from rolling hills within a snow-covered landscape that they were looking at now was an exact match.
“These are the Dragon Spine Mountains,” Lark said, perking up from the renewed memory. “They were one of the nesting grounds for the original twelve dragons of Sataran!”
The significance of these very peaks felt foreign and familiar at the same time. Just days ago, Lark wouldn’t have recognized them at all. Now, with a wealth of her memories restored, she respected their significance.
“Learning about this place feels like it was a lifetime ago,” she whispered, squinting against the wind.
“But why would you take me here when Venrick and the others are…” She trailed off, fully aware that she had no idea if they were even still alive.
Barrik agreed to let Venrick, Hardin, Sasja and the juvenile dragon leave the fortress, but that didn’t mean they had survived the battle that occurred outside its walls.
Her throat constricted as she remembered the last time she’d seen them. Hardin, Sasja, Venrick, and the unbonded dragon had all been led away from the throne room by Ingamar. None of them had wanted to leave, Venrick least of all, but Lark had insisted they go.
A comforting emotion fell over Lark like a blanket as White Eye tried to alleviate her pain through their bond.
Barrik would’ve killed them all if I hadn’t agreed to let him show me.
Lark was the only one who had been strong enough to stop Barrik and Joc at the scene of their battle in Red Lodge. That was why she hadn’t been able to go with them once the power of the Hyalite was…
The unbonded dragon, Lark remembered. She had been fully exposed to the Hyalite’s power. She would’ve been forced to share that immense amount of power with someone or let the power from the Hyalite kill her.
“But the dragon didn’t have anyone to bond with,” Lark spoke aloud, working her way through the events she’d been too delirious to consider these last days.
“She was a wild dragon and unfamiliar with any of us. But after Hardin pulled the sword out, she was still alive. She left with them and Ingamar.”
White Eye purred as Lark came to the only conceivable conclusion.
Hardin? Are you sure?
The scene unfolded in her head.
“He was closest to the dragon when Joc was harvesting her energy and that of the Hyalite, trying to use brismil and a binding stone to forge all of the magical energy together so he could wield power on his own. But Hardin had broken that flow. Joc lost control of the energy, so it returned to the juvenile dragon. Hardin was there. He was at the young dragon’s side when she was left to absorb the power of the Hyalite alone.
She judged him, then formed a bond with him,” she reasoned aloud.
Lark had heard of dragons bonding within minutes of meeting a potential partner but had never seen it happen. Usually, both dragon and potential rider needed to build that deep trust, learn of each other’s strengths and weaknesses, before entrusting another living being with that much control.
With the chaos of the attack, the pain fogging her mind, and the need Lark felt to get her friends away from Barrik, Lark had not seen what had become of her friends. There’d been fighting outside the fortress after the Morsythians fled.
The orcs of Red Lodge assumed Lamar was attacking and summoned their militia to fight Ezra and Cheyanne, Lark surmised. Ezra was right. Cheyanne did arrive with her rebel forces in the end.
Lark knew that if Cheyanne had waited any longer, and if Hardin hadn’t been able to see the end of Joc, she would’ve been too late to help.
Joc would’ve gained the power of the Hyalite for himself, using the connection with the brismil to inflate his ability to control that much magical energy.
Venrick, Hardin, Sasja, and the unbonded dragon, they would’ve all met their end.
Where are they now?
White Eye banked in a steep turn. Lark bit back a cry as the motion jostled her wrist.
“Careful,” she cautioned him. Lark’s bond with White Eye was whole again, meaning her wrist and side were healing much faster than they would’ve otherwise, but her stab wound was still tender and weeping at the edges. And her wrist was still fractured.
A moment later, White Eye hummed an apology in which she sensed that whatever reason her dragon had for bringing them here was more pressing than finding Lark’s companions.
Dragons don’t act without a reason, especially when it involves the preservation of their riders, she reminded herself. Though Barrik had opened her mind’s eye to the major events of her past, many details remained shadowed by the spell that had caused her lengthy bout of amnesia.