Prologue
Ronan
Sylvie seethes with rage, betrayal burning white hot through her, her desire for retribution all-encompassing. She is poised to strike, waiting in the shadows for an opportunity, biding her time.
I thank the gods I’m not the one who has to face her wrath.
From high above the camp on Kira’s back, I can’t perceive her captors, but I doubt they know what they’re dealing with.
They’ve always underestimated her.
We’ve flown for more than an hour in her pursuit, and I’ve felt the gamut of emotions from her in that time.
Confusion, fear, understanding, even a glimmer of affection that caused me to panic somewhat, wondering if Taran could have been right about her after all, before finally settling on this consuming anger.
The River Mara meanders a couple hundred feet beneath us, moonlight reflecting off its deep blue waters made almost black under the night sky.
Its banks are surging with people fleeing from Faros, trying to make their way home before the battle lines are drawn, before they can no longer leave the city under siege.
Faros smolders behind us, the battle fires reduced to ash but still glowing with embers, ready to reignite at any moment. My home, my people. I worry for them, I grieve for them, but I do not doubt their strength. This is not our first siege, our first war together.
But gods as my witness, it will be our last. Whatever the outcome, this is the last time I will do this.
The last time I can do this. The last war left me fractured beyond repair, only made into something resembling a whole once more very recently by the woman I love, the woman who has been taken from me.
Even now, I feel the broken man I once was, a man with nothing to lose, lurking just beneath the surface.
Taran shifts in discomfort as I urge the griffin near to the water.
“We’re close now,” I tell him. Sylvie has been moving quickly, by water or horseback, and at first, Kira was unable to make up any ground.
I nearly turned us back to save her strength, but then Sylvie’s captors turned back, allowing us to catch up.
She’s on the move again away from Faros, and even more quickly now, but we have to be almost there.
If I could just get a glimpse of her, if I could just see who has her—
“There,” Taran says as he points at the river.
Up ahead, far off into the distance near the horizon, a boat is moving up the Mara.
“Now you know who has her. We can’t get her back, not yet. Please, sir. Can we go back now?”
I want to kick my heels into Kira’s sides and urge her on, but I know it’s no use.
The boat is moving far faster than Kira can fly, and I’m not sure how much more she can take with two riders and miles of enemy-occupied territory between us and home.
I’m not even certain we’ll make it back to the palace as it is.
But I know where she is, and I know where she’s going. And they will find out quickly what a mistake they have made.
Because one way or another, I will bring her back to me. No matter what it takes. No matter what it costs.
I will find her no matter where they take her.
And anyone who stands in my way will burn.