Page 141 of Kingdom of the Two Moons

“He still thinks that whoever was behind that incident in my room will try again, doesn’t he?” I ask.

“Theyaregoing to try again,” he retorts darkly.

“Why?” Again he avoids my eyes. “What is so important that they want me? Please tell me, Riven.”

When his eyes slide back to mine, there is so much in them. “I already told you that I wish I could. Dearly so. But I cannot. You have to ask Caryan yourself, my little one.”

“Why?” I ask sharply, unwilling to accept his answer.

“You know why. My hands are tied,” he replies, his voice hoarse. Raw. Angry.

“He scared you, on that lawn. Caryan scared you,” I push. “Why?”

Riven lets out a long exhale before he runs his fingers through his hair. “It scared me what he might do to you. I’m used to sacrifices, but you would be the one I am not willing to make,” he says eventually. “Do you understand?”

I want to shake my head. No, I do not. Because no one will fucking tell me anything. But I swallow my anger and walk past him over to his huge bed.

If no one’s going to tell me anything, I’ll find out on my own.

I will go to Niavara tomorrow. Find whatever that book wants me to find.

44

Blair, two years before Gatilla’s death

It began with the beating of the war drums. The appearance Palisandre’s army had given—an army still setting up; soldiers still readying themselves—it had been a ploy.

Blair jumped out of bed and donned her leathers, the screech of phantom wyverns already filling the night, the song of the summoned beasts a wild, wicked answer to the drums. She sprinted outside, braiding her hair as the first arrows came flying, piercing flesh and slicing tents. Ice-arrows. Fire-arrows.

Elven magic.

Aurora? Sofya? Blair’s eyes scanned the disaster around her, but she couldn’t find them.

Fear swamped her, ruthless and brutal fear.

Caryan. She needed to see him. She needed his guidance, his reassurance. His calm. His strength.

She was still looking when she felt a hand close around her wrist. There he was, already in his battle suit, his eyes dark but unfazed. He found her, as if he’d felt her panic.

“Cool your blood, Blair. I will be with you. Do as we discussed. Attack the front lines, try to take out the towers.”

She nodded, but his words barely registered in her fear-addled mind.

He gripped her harder, baring his fangs. “You need to pull yourself together.”

“I’m… terrified,” she admitted.

Her breath caught as he put a hand on her neck and a warm, deep calm seeped into her, anchoring her. Grounding her.

“We will see each other tonight, but now, fight. There’s no backing down now. No way back.”

Her panic was gone, replaced by his magic. She was as calm as she’d ever been, and her mind so clear. So focused.

“I will,” she agreed and walked over to her wyvern.

As the beast swung itself into the air, Blair threw out a mighty, burning shield of orange magic to block the arrows now raining down on them.

“Witches, fall into formation.” Her voice boomed over the chaos, and she could feel disorder falling into order. Into a system.

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