Page 22 of The Horde King of Shadow

Below that mountain, spread out among rolling hills that rippled out toward flat land was a city. A towering stronghold made of gray stone overlooked it all.

Thatwas the citadel, I figured, my eyes widening at the sight. Momentarily, I forgot my fear, riding on Zaridan’s back when I could feel every muscle of my own body ache in protest. Momentarily, I forgot my pain and the fact that my legs felt like needles were pricking into my flesh over and over again.

I was awestruck. In the rising sun, it was beautiful, the land lush and vibrant, so unlike the wildlands of my own homeland. The river of the valley—which cleaved the city into two—led toa wide lake in the distance, and even there, I saw structures dotting close to the shore. It was a sprawling, expansive city…and Sarkin was its king?

“You callthisa horde?” I asked. “It’s larger than Dothik.”

I didn’t think Sarkin would be able to hear me over the rush of wind.

But he responded, “Sarroth. The stronghold of the South Lands.”

“A stronghold againstwhat?” I couldn’t help but question.

He didn’t answer me.

Instead, I heard a dragon’s roar. No, not quite a roar. A call. The gust of wings funneled toward us, and I saw three Elthika flying overhead in formation. Beneath me, Zaridan responded. I could actuallyfeelthe way her lungs expanded before she mimicked the sound, bright and trilling into the sky, so unlike the deadly and powerful roar she’d unleashed in Dothik.

Thiswas power, I realized. Not to control a creature that could decimate an entire civilization. But to ride with one. To bond with one. To feel that power and trust they wouldn’t use it against you.

Was that how the Karag felt? Dannik’s words returned to me, how he’d said they’d had no fear. This was why. What was it like? To feel so certain in your safety, knowing that no danger could ever compare?

Beyond the mountain, I could see Elthika flying. I watched as one latched into the side of the rock face, disappearing into a hidden entrance. My lips parted.Theirhome?

As we neared Sarroth and began to fly lower, heading straight for the citadel, I heard horns sound from below. Perhaps to herald Sarkin’s return? Squinting over Zaridan’s side, I ignored the great distance to the ground, ignored the way it made me feel dizzy, because I wanted to see it all. Ineededto.

Karag milled around throughout the city, even this early. The horns were placed at regular intervals along what I assumed was the main road, set up on small platforms, and I wondered if this was their only purpose.

The city likely held a smaller population than Dothik, but it was certainly larger in size. It was widespread to accommodate the Elthika, I realized, eyeing a dragon casually perched on a wide ledge that overlooked crop land on the outskirts.

The structures and homes were grouped together, like they made up smaller villages within the larger city, all connected to a wide, winding road. Like the Spine in Dothik. The road crossed the river at the bridge before spiraling up the hills on the other side, dotted with smaller structures, smoke rising from a few. Nearest the citadel, the structures were more tightly packed, even multiple stories high. I thought I spied spaces for markets, training grounds, and shops along a paved road.

I’ve seen this before,I realized, jolting.

The citadel itself was separated from the main city by a steep, winding incline. It was nearest the mountain, the back section abutted against it. It was smaller than theDothikkar’s palace in Dothik and much less opulent, but I had the sense the citadel had been standing for much, much longer. There was longevity in the lines of its structure, made up of solid columns and gray stone. There was a timelessness to it.

As we got closer, I saw the stone of the citadel’s facade also had etchings of Elthika, like the mountain above it. A history, perhaps, one I was itching to inspect and study.

What surprised me the most were the sprawling gardens at the back of the citadel, however. Zaridan flew over the stone keep and circled around, beginning her descent to land. It was a massive area, meant to accommodate multiple dragons, I thought, judging by the empty stone slab that led off the citadel’sback gates. There was even a private training ground nearest the mountain.

But beyond the stone slab was a large plot of land, filled with overgrown shrubs, trees, vines. At the very back of the garden was a smaller structure, similar in architecture to the citadel but kept apart.

Zaridan landed on the stone slab, surprisingly graceful for one so large. Just then, one of the three Elthika that had accompanied us to the citadel landed—an Elthika and rider I recognized.

The other two continued on, circling back toward the main city.

Behind me, I felt Sarkin dismount. I would never admit it to him, but I’d felt safer flying with him at my back. I’d felt more protected, and I was silently grateful that he’d changed our positions for the rest of the journey.

“Get down,” he grated from below. I bit my tongue, my lips pressing together. Even being the outcast of the royal line in Dothik, I hadn’t been ordered around this much in years.

I huffed, but instead of sliding off Zaridan—I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of watching me struggle to dismount—I reached over and tapped at the joint of her wing, just as I’d seen him do the night before.

Triumph and relief went through me when she extended it in response. I hid my wince when I swung my leg over, my limbs feeling like boulders, and then carefully navigated down the flattest part of Zaridan’s wing, taking my time though I felt the burn of Sarkin’s eyes.

When I stepped off and looked up at him with mild smugness, he was studying me—his expression neutral, his jaw clenched. He wasn’t glaring, at the very least, and I thought I almost caught ahintof approval.

Sarkin broke our gaze to retrieve the satchels, and as he did, I felt Zaridan’s stare. When I moved my head, I bit the edges of my tongue, regarding her carefully. Once, she’d been my nightmare. I’d feared sleep because I’d feared she’d kill me in my dreams. But now I wondered if I’d had it wrong. She hadn’t hurt me. She’d marked me. Why? To lead me to this place?

She’d showed me Sarroth before. I’d caught glimpses of the river, of the city, though they’d been like wisps of memories, uncertain and blurred. She’d showed me…but for what purpose?

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