Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 206625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 827(@250wpm)___ 689(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 206625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 827(@250wpm)___ 689(@300wpm)
“Got him.”
Time snaps back, wind blasting me in the face as we climb, turning tightly to avoid colliding with the ridgeline.
“Andarna?”
“Safe.” Her voice is barely a whisper in my head.
Wrath and fury boil my blood as my eyes lock onto the figure on top of that tower. This is the last time this asshole will come after my friends or me.
Feirge appears from below, Rhiannon’s arms outstretched as they rise beneath us. Tairn slows just enough to transfer Liam to her. He’s alive—he has to be. It’s the only outcome I’ll accept.
In my peripherals, I see Cath and other dragons arrive from the north just as another squad launches from the cliff above.
Baide is airborne behind us, racing toward her asshole of a rider, who is still gloating on the top of that fucking tower.
“Climb!” I order, unsheathing a blade at my ribs and leaving one hand free to unsnap the buckles when it’s time.
“You will not unseat yourself!” Tairn bellows at me as we surge forward, leaving the smaller orange dragon behind us. He swivels his head left, blasting a stream of fire toward the line of First Wing dragons to warn them off and succeeding as we barrel past.
A growing power sizzles in my chest as I lock my gaze on Jack. I can see the sick pleasure on his face as we fly closer, the blood that drips from his sword. Liam’s blood.
An enormous dragon appears on the horizon. I don’t need to look or even open my feelings to know it’s Xaden, but I can’t spare a moment for him. Tairn is climbing faster than we’ve ever climbed, and power is racing along my skin, scorching my blood.
If this is it, if my power is backlashing, then I’ll be damned if I don’t take that asshole with me. Tairn is fireproof—but not Jack.
“Faster!” I shout, my voice desperate with worry we won’t make it in time.
Tairn charges the tower, his wings beating faster and faster, and I instinctually throw my hands forward, as though I can project all this power lashing within me toward the enemy who just tried to kill my friend, who has done his best to kill me at every opportunity.
That sizzle of magic grows to a lethal, swirling vortex of energy, and though my feet are still firmly grounded, the power rises to a breaking point and the roof of my Archives disintegrates. Power crackles above me, swirls around me, wraps along my feet below me.
I am the sky and the power of every storm that has ever been.
I am infinite.
A scream rips from my throat just as lightning splits the sky with a terrifying crack of thunder.
The bluish streak of silver death slams into the tower, and sparks flare as it explodes in a blast of stone. Tairn banks to avoid the blast, and I pivot in the saddle.
Jack falls down the mountainside in an avalanche of rock that I know he can’t survive.
From the way Baide cries beneath us, she knows it, too.
My hand trembles as I sheathe the clean dagger at my ribs. The only blood to be found is on the rocks below, though I look at my hands as though they should be covered in death.
Tairn roars with the unmistakable sound of pride.
“Lightning wielder.”
The death of a cadet is an inevitable yet acceptable tragedy. This process thins the herd, leaving only the strongest riders, and as long as the cause of death does not break the Codex, any rider involved in extinguishing another’s life shall not be punished.
—Major Afendra’s Guide to the Riders Quadrant
(Unauthorized Edition)
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
We land in the flight field what feels like minutes later. Or maybe it’s been a lifetime. I’m not sure.
The ground shakes as dragons arrive to the left and right, the field quickly filling with celebrating riders from Fourth Wing and angry ones from First. The dragons take off as soon as their riders dismount, with the exception of Andarna, who waits between Tairn’s forelegs as I fumble with the buckles.
Jack is dead.
I killed him.
I’m the reason his parents will get a letter, the reason his name will be etched into stone.
Across the field, Garrick lifts the crystal egg above his head as Dain waves the flag, and those in Fourth Wing cheer, rushing toward the pair like they’re gods.
Tairn’s weight shifts beneath me as the last buckle slips through my fingers, and I slide out of the saddle. My head swims, stress no doubt bringing on the dizzy spell that makes it hard to keep my balance as I make my way to his shoulder and dismount.
I stumble in the mud, hitting my knees when I reach where Andarna lies between Tairn’s forelegs, clearly exhausted.
“Tell me Liam is alive. Tell me it was worth it.”
“Deigh says that he lives. The sword went through his side,” Tairn says.