Page 300 of Heat of the Everflame

Luther growled a warning that went unheard. My determination to get to my brother had risen to a shadow I was lost in, unable to see the light beyond.

Sorae swooped across the parapets where the upper row of archers were hiding. Her talons hung low, dragging a gash into the stone. The archers dove to escape her path, providing a small window of respite.

Again we shot toward my brother. His arms strained toward us as if he might pluck us down from the air himself. Arrows and spears clinked against Luther’s shield with an endless, steady patter, a violent hailstorm against a windowpane growing thinner every second. He roared with the effort of maintaining it—his well of power was so near empty, I no longer felt his aura at all.

Sorae’s wings began to tuck as she prepared to land, and I held my breath at our imminent victory.

“Sorae, abort,” Luther shouted suddenly.

“No!” I screamed. “We’re almost there!”

“Diem, they’re launching god—”

His words were cut off by the unmistakable squelch of a blade ripping into flesh. Sorae shrieked, and fiery pain blasted through my side. We slammed against the edge of a palace spire, the gritty stone scraping like sandpaper against my skin. I clutched Sorae’s wing in a desperate effort to keep from falling.

My vision swam with pain, chaos, confusion. Sorae jerked unsteadily through the air. I hung on for dear life with one hand and clawed at my side in search of a wound with the other.

But the pain wasn’t from my body—it was from my bond.

“Sorae’s hurt,” I cried, spying a wooden pole hanging from her soft underbelly.

Luther swore and flattened on his stomach crossways over her back. He shot a fierce glare at my mother. “Grab my legs and hold on tight.”

She nodded and gripped him with both hands. He slowly slid forward until he was draped down Sorae’s side, arms dangling in the air.

Terror raced through my veins. Luther’s life quite literally hung at my mother’s mercy. I snaked my uninjured arm around her waist to steady her, but he was out of my reach, and with my wounded shoulder, I was barely holding on myself.

There was nothing I could do but trust her.

“I’m sorry, girl,” he yelled, “this is going to hurt.”

A sickening sound accompanied the excruciating feeling of flesh ripping near my hip. Sorae and I both cried out, her outstretched wings shuddering in pain.

With some effort, my mother managed to pull Luther upright. He held up a blood-soaked bolt tipped with a point of glittering black.

“Godstone,” I breathed, eyes growing wide.

He nodded grimly. “Thank the Kindred, the toxin isn’t as deadly for gryverns. She’ll heal fine now that it’s out. But if they’d struck her heart...”

Or if they’d aimed any higher, I thought as I realized how close Luther’s leg had been to where Sorae was hit.

“It’s the same weapon the Guardians had in Arboros,” he added, darting a judgmental look at my mother, who stiffened. “Alixe was trying to warn me, but I saw it too late.”

I looked out toward the palace, now a fair distance away. “I think I know where they were hiding it. Sorae can burn it with her fire, then we can try again to—”

“Diem,” my mother said softly. “It’s time to cut our losses.”

“Not without Teller. If I can get close enough to grab his arm, he can come with us, and then—”

“And thenwhat?” Luther asked. My eyes flashed angrily to him, which he met with his own harsh resolve. “Returning to the palace was risk enough, but at least the consequences were on us alone. If your brother leaves that palace at your side right now...”

My eyes fell closed, my brother’s words replaying in my head. His grief, his betrayal, his raw, vulnerable pain.

I swiveled forward and finally retreated to the numb darkness I’d been flirting with all evening.

For better or worse, my decision was made.

I opened my heart to Sorae across the bond, and she let out a doleful trill at what she found. She arched back toward the palace to obey my orders, though a pulse of protest rippled back forcefully enough to send a tremor through my spine.

---