“Oh.” Kaori nods. “That explains it. You haven’t talked to Panchek this afternoon. I turned in my expert opinion that Sorrengail not be punished for what was clearly the choice of her dragon. Her very powerful, very worried, very mated dragon. Panchek agrees. She’s clear of all charges.”
“I’m sorry?” Varrish drops Xaden’s jacket on the floor on top of Bodhi’s, and his henchmen stand.
“Come now,” Kaori says as if he’s talking to a child. “We can hardly expect a second-year to shield out the overpowering emotions of her dragon when even we struggle as officers, let alone one as strong as Tairn.”
“Maybe you struggle,” Varrish snips, losing his customary slick indifference. “Some of us do not bow to the whims of our dragons. In fact, we influence them.”
“Well, that’s certainly a theory worth contemplating.” Kaori pauses, waiting for a reply that doesn’t come. “Odd. Would that mean you influenced Solas when he set fire to that squad of bonded riders after Parapet?”
Varrish glances between us. “We’re done here.”
The trio sidesteps the mess they made of my things and pushes by Professor Kaori.
“You’re making enemies, Sorrengail,” Kaori says softly after waiting until they’ve left.
“Not sure I made that one, Professor,” I tell him honestly, dropping to the ground and shoving my things back in the bag. “Pretty sure he came that way.”
“Hmm.” He watches me as I stand. “Either way, be careful there.” He gives me a cautious look and then disappears down the hallway.
I squeeze the jacket between my hands, finding a very empty sheath.
Oh gods.
“Get in here!” Rhiannon hisses, all but yanking me into her room and slamming the door shut behind me.
Ridoc and Sawyer rise from where they’re seated at the window and close their physics books, exchanging a look before coming toward us.
“I didn’t want you caught up in—” My words die when she holds the dagger up, grasping the tip. “Holy shit!” My jaw drops, then rises in an awestruck smile. “You just pulled that through the wall! I thought you couldn’t do that yet!”
“I can’t!” she rebuts. “Well, couldn’t, I guess. Not until right now. Not until I thought whatever this is had a chance of getting you killed from the look you gave me.”
“You’re incredible!” I glance at the guys. “She is, right?”
“Enough about the signet!” Her voice rises with tension. “What is this? And why did you need them not to find it?”
“Oh. Right.” I take a single step forward, and she hands me the dagger. A thousand possibilities, all varying degrees of the truth, run through my mind. But I’m so sick of lying to her, to them. Especially when attacks are increasing and keeping them in the dark will only hurt them. “The dagger.”
Gods, I hope Xaden forgives me for this.
She’s my closest friend and she just saved not only my ass but the lives of every marked one in this college. She deserves better from me. She deserves the truth. They all do.
“Violet?” she pleads.
I swallow the lump in my throat and meet her gaze. “It’s for killing venin.”
Barring invasion, only riders and designated scribes are permitted in the Riders Quadrant. To enter uninvited as infantry or even healer is to welcome a swift death.
—ARTICLE TWO, SECTION THREE THE BASGIATH WAR COLLEGE CODE OF CONDUCT
CHAPTER THIRTY
I tell them everything. Every moment that transpired from the minute I made the decision to leave our squad with Xaden for War Games to the second I fell from Tairn’s back after being stabbed. But when it comes to revealing how and where I woke up, my tongue ties. I just can’t do it.
It’s not because I don’t trust them, but because it isn’t my secret to tell, and to do so betrays Xaden…and Brennan. It risks every life in Aretia.
So, I tell them almost everything that happened after Resson. Andarna, the assassination attempts, the daggers, supplying friendly drifts, Jesinia sneaking me classified books about the wards, even the theory that Navarre knows how to lure the venin—the rest spills out of my mouth in a deluge of words as they stare at me, their expressions varying from shocked to disbelief.
“I was right. Deigh wasn’t killed by gryphons.” Rhi sits on her bed, staring at the wall, her eyes unfocused as she processes.
“Deigh wasn’t killed by gryphons.” I shake my head slowly, sitting beside her.
“And you let him—let Riorson—lie for you.” Sawyer folds his arms across his chest.
I nod, a pit opening in my stomach as I wait for them to condemn me, to shout, to kick me out of the room, to end our friendship.
“And you’re sure the dragons know?” Ridoc tilts his head to the side, and his eyes slowly widen as if he’s talking to Aotrom. “The dragons know.”
“Feirge does, too.” Rhi grips the edge of her bed. “She’s stunned that I do. That you do.”
“Tairn says the Empyrean is split. Some of the dragons want to act, and others don’t. Without the Empyrean taking an official stance, none of the dragons are willing to put their riders in danger by telling them if they don’t already know.”
“And people are dying beyond the wards. All that propaganda is real.” Ridoc paces between the window and door.
“Yes.” I nod.
“They can’t keep a lie this big,” Ridoc argues, rubbing his hand over his recently buzzed hair. “It’s impossible.”
“It’s not.” Sawyer leans against Rhiannon’s desk. “Living in Luceras, I promise you the only news we got along the coast came from what the scribes put out as official announcements. It’s as easy as Markham choosing which news gets published and which doesn’t. We aren’t even open to trading vessels from the isle kingdoms.”
Ridoc shakes his head. “Fine, then what about the wabern, or whatever you called them?”
“Wyvern?” Rhiannon offers.
“Right. If you killed all those dragon-size monsters, then where are the bodies? They can’t hide an entire killing field, and Resson is close enough to Athebyne that someone would see. Liam wasn’t the only rider with farsight.”
“They burned them,” Rhiannon says quietly, looking away in thought. “The patrol reports from Battle Brief said the trading post was charred for miles and we’d have to find a new location for the quarterly trades.”
“How long do we have?” Ridoc stops pacing. “Until those things are at the border?”
“Some say a year, some say less. A lot less.” I turn to Rhi. “You need to get your family to leave. The farther from the border, the better.”
She lifts her brows. “You want me to tell my parents to leave the business they worked their entire lives for and uproot my sister and her family without telling them why?”
“You have to try,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t tell you.” Guilt threatens to swallow me whole. “And the truth of it is that you still don’t know everything. There are things I can’t tell you, at least not until you’re all capable of shielding Dain out. And I know that sounds like a bunch of bullshit because I’ve basically been lying to you for the last few months. And you have every single right to be angry at me, or to hate me, or to feel however you want to feel…of course.” A self-deprecating laugh slips free. “Because it’s exactly why I’ve been so pissed at Xaden.” I end on a whisper.
“Stop.” She takes a deep, shuddering breath and drags her gaze to meet mine.
“I’m not pissed at you.”
I draw back, speechless.
“I’m a little pissed,” Ridoc mutters.
“I’m stunned but not angry,” Sawyer adds, shooting Ridoc a look.
“I’m not pissed at you, Vi,” Rhiannon repeats, her gaze locked on mine. “I’m just really sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me. Am I disappointed and more than a little frustrated that you didn’t trust me earlier? Absolutely, but I can’t imagine how heavy this has been for you to carry.”
“But you should be pissed.” My eyes burn and a boulder forms in my throat as I look at them all in turn. “You should all be pissed.”
Rhiannon lifts her brows at me. “So, I only get to feel however I want as long as I rip you apart for not telling me? Not sure that’s fair.”