Chapter 32
Chapter
Thirty-Two
Theron’s glare lingered a moment longer, like he wanted to hurl another threat, but he knew the moment was lost.
Not with Hein standing behind Zander.
Not with every rider and dragon watching.
He turned with a swift sweep of his cloak and descended the podium, his entourage scrambling to follow. The ground seemed to exhale once he disappeared through the castle gates.
Zander waited only a moment before turning and walking toward us, Hein lumbering a few steps behind before returning to the cliffs again, still alert.
Our squad straightened instinctively as Zander approached. His expression was calm again, composed, but something simmered behind his eyes. Something angry and tired.
“The major usually allows the squads a day’s rest after the final bonding trial,” he said. “Time with your dragons. To acclimate.”
He glanced between us, eyes settling on me for a breath before moving on.
“Since Thrall Squad is now fully bonded, you’ll receive your official banner in the morning.”
That brought a ripple of excitement through the group, even as we tried to play it cool.
Riven grinned and leaned forward. “What was your bonding like?” she asked, unable to hide the curiosity in her voice. “You and Hein are like… legendary.”
Zander huffed a breath, not quite a laugh. “He didn’t speak to me for the first three days,” he said. “Every time I reached for him, he shut me out. Made it clear I wasn’t worthy.”
Ferrula raised a brow. “And you still tried?”
“Every day,” he said simply. “Until the trial. I rode into that mist certain I would die.”
“But you didn’t,” Cordelle said.
Zander gave a faint smile. “No. Hein caught me when I fell. But the bond didn’t seal until I apologized.”
“Apologized for what?” Naia asked.
“For assuming I deserved him.”
That silenced us.
I looked around then and realized something else.
The other squads all had lieutenants, second-in-commands appointed after their full bond. Leaders who trained under the major’s direction to help guide the others.
But us?
We had Tae.
He sat just beyond the circle, legs outstretched, arms propped behind him as he squinted toward the sun, pretending not to eavesdrop. But I could tell he was listening to every word.
He’d been bonded before any of us, sure.
But he’d also been forbidden to practice. To talk. To use his gift.
He wasn’t much further along in his education than the rest of us. Not really.
And suddenly I wondered—
Who was going to lead us?
Because our dragons might’ve chosen.
But we were still figuring out what that meant.
Zander suddenly went still, his body tightening like a bow pulled taut. His eyes flicked toward the cliffs where Hein perched, motionless but alert, a silent sentinel above the grounds.
Something passed between them, unspoken, heavy.
When Zander turned back, his face was composed… but his eyes locked on me.
“Ashe,” he said, voice low but urgent. “I need you. It’s important.”
I didn’t hesitate.
I nodded and fell into step beside him as we moved away from the squad, away from the watching eyes of other riders and curious whispers. We moved in silence until we were beyond the courtyard walls and nearing the eastern wing of the castle.
Only then did I ask, “What’s going on?”
He didn’t look at me as he answered.
“My father is dying.”
The words landed like lead.
We didn’t stop.
The corridors grew quieter as we ascended the narrow staircase to the king’s wing, cut from the oldest stone in the castle, the torches flickering against polished gold trim and velvet drapes muted with dust. The air here felt heavier.
Older. As though it remembered the weight of every crown worn within its walls.
We passed two guards at the archway of the king’s chambers, who bowed but didn’t question Zander’s presence—or mine. Their faces were grim, their eyes hollow.
Inside, the chamber was cloaked in shadow despite the afternoon light. The curtains were drawn, and the once-grand chandelier hung low, unlit, its crystals dulled with time. The scent of tonics and wilted flowers lingered in the air, along with something bitterer… like magic that had curdled.
The king lay in the massive bed, barely more than a silhouette beneath heavy blankets. His skin was drawn tight over his bones, his lips dry and pale. This wasn’t the commanding figure I remembered from court.
This was a man unraveling from within.
Zander stood at the edge of the room, his posture locked, but his hands curled into fists at his sides.
“I thought I’d have more time,” he said quietly.
The silence of the king’s chamber pressed down like stone.
Zander stood beside the bed, the dying weight of his father barely breathing beneath layers of velvet and silk. The light from the stained-glass windows filtered in through dust and time, casting fractured colors across his cheek.
He turned to me, his voice a whisper, rough and raw.
“Ashe… will you use your blood to try to save him?”
I blinked.
The request rooted me to the floor.
“The healers have tried everything else,” he said, eyes flickering over his father’s frail form. “He’s slipping fast.”
I hesitated only a heartbeat. “I can try—”
NO.
Kaelith’s voice slammed into me like a wall of force, rippling through my mind in a crack of violent thunder.
I flinched, breathing uneven. Why? I asked, It worked on Zander—
Hein’s rider is different, she said, her voice hard and unyielding. His magic was shaped by prophecy. The others… they are not safe from what your blood carries.
My heart thundered as I relayed the message to Zander, each word heavy. “Kaelith says it’s too dangerous. It only worked on you because… you’re different. The others aren’t safe from my power.”
Zander closed his eyes, jaw tightening. “Hein just told me the same thing,” he said quietly. “I don’t know why he had me summon you, then.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what to do.”
For a long moment, there was nothing.
And then Kaelith’s voice returned, quieter this time. Call on your power. But let me guide it. Let me control the flow.
Can you do that? I asked.
I must.
I glanced at Zander, who hadn’t looked away from his father once. His posture was rigid, but grief was etched into every angle of him, because no matter the truth of his blood, no matter the distance between them…
He still loved him.
He still needed to try.
I inhaled slowly, deeply, grounding myself despite the ache still clinging to my chest from the trial.
Do whatever you need to, I told Kaelith.
I will, she answered.
And then I stepped forward, knowing full well we were walking a line between salvation… and destruction.
Kaelith surged through me like a tidal wave behind glass, immense, controlled, terrifying in her precision.
I knelt beside the king’s bed, my fingers trembling as they brushed against the paper-thin skin of his wrist. His pulse was barely there, fluttering like a bird caught beneath ice. His face was sunken, lips tinged gray, as if the very essence of him had begun to decay.
Now, Kaelith whispered. Give it to me. Slowly.
I opened the gate.
My magic responded instantly, flaring in my veins like wildfire, but it didn’t spiral out of control. Kaelith caught it, molded it, shaped it, weaving it around the king like silk made of Stormlight. The violet threads of her power braided with mine, winding through his body in a quiet hum.
The air thickened with it.
Zander stood a step behind me, still and silent, watching with eyes that flickered between awe and fear.
The king’s chest rose—once, shallow but stronger. His color didn’t return, but the trembling in his fingers ceased. His body stilled, suspended in a breathless calm.
He was not healed.
But he was no longer dying.
Kaelith’s voice pressed into my mind again, solemn and grounding.
He is in stasis now. This will hold… for a time.
How long? I asked.
A moon. Maybe less. But it is not a cure. His soul is slipping. To save him…
Her voice darkened.
We must seek the sanctuary.
I felt the word settle like a thundercloud over my heart.
The sanctuary.
Ancient. Lost. The last known place where fae magic and dragon kind once converged before the war fractured everything.
I looked to Zander. “He’ll live, for now. But if we don’t find the sanctuary…”
He nodded, already understanding.
We had stopped death.
But we had not defeated it.
We left the king’s chamber in silence, the scent of incense and sickness still clinging to my skin like a second layer. The hallway outside was dim, torches flickering with the draft of shifting castle air, but the weight on my shoulders didn’t lift with the door closing behind us.
Zander walked beside me, his steps quieter than usual.
I glanced at him, still feeling the tremble of Kaelith’s magic fading through my limbs. “What’s Theron going to say when he finds out we helped the king?”
Zander’s jaw tightened for a heartbeat, then relaxed with a small shake of his head. “Let me deal with Theron.”
I didn’t press him.
By the time we returned to the Ascension Grounds, the rest of Thrall Squad was gathered near the east edge, watching a brief sparring session between two of the newer cadets. The sun was beginning to dip low behind the cliffs, casting golden fire across the training field.
Zander called out, his voice direct. “Teren.”
The lowborn stood near the review platform, flanked by Luthias, Kaila, Camus, and Ayda.
Luthias moved with him when he approached.
The green Clubtail rider moved with casual strength, a blade slung across his back and a permanent scowl etched into his broad features. He joined us with a respectful nod to Zander, and to me.
Zander didn’t wait for pleasantries. “Have either of you had any luck?”
I glanced between them, uncertain what he meant, until Luthias answered.
“We found one,” he said, voice gravelly. “A Varnari outpost. Used to be one of Warriath’s. Now it’s theirs.”
My breath caught. “That’s more than a power grab.”
“They’re positioned east of the first ridge,” Luthias added. “And more importantly…” His gaze flicked to Zander. “We think they may have something to do with the king’s illness.”
Zander stilled. “What did you find?”
“Rotten supplies. Spoiled rations, tampered tonics, some of them traced back to castle stores,” Luthias replied. “But they didn’t come from Warriath directly. They were rerouted. Someone’s funneling poison through our own network.”
Teren looked ready to explode, but Zander ignored him.
“We need to recon the outpost,” I said, my voice firmer than I expected. “If it’s tied to the king’s condition, then we don’t wait.”
Zander nodded. “Agreed. We move now. Quiet. Fast. Only those we trust.”
His eyes met mine, and for the first time all day, the weight we carried didn’t feel quite so heavy.
Because we had a direction.
And for once, the enemy wasn’t hiding in the mist.
They’d taken our outpost.
Now we were taking it back.