“What are you?” She whispered, staring at the place where her fingers protruded from the other woman’s chest.
Gold blood streamed down the Wraith’s garb, identical to Leona’s. She tried to look over the woman’s face time and again. Was she somehow a Dragon in disguise? No, an illusion would’ve faltered by now.
“What are you?” Leona repeated. Her ears howled as she tried to piece together what she had been fighting the whole time she’d been hunting Cvareh on Loom.
“I’m perfect.”
The woman twisted her dagger, once, twice. She spun it in place, pulverizing Leona’s chest cavity. She felt bone shatter under the blade, sinew stretch and snap against its edge. The Wraith stepped away, reaching for Leona’s chest.
She was going to eat her heart.
Leona wheezed. She clung to life, clung to her duty. It was the best death a Rider could hope for, a death while serving their King. She clung uselessly and weakly to the woman’s forearm as the White Wraith ripped the remnants of her heart from her chest, bit into it, and ended the life of the King’s Master Rider.
33. Cvareh
He had flown a sum total of one other glider in his life. That time it had been in a rush as well, stolen. He’d barreled down toward the Gods’ Line in utter terror, gripping the handles with all his might, pushing as much magic as he could into his feet and around the body of the glider.
It had been how he’d started his journey. And now it seemed it would end much the same. He had no idea what was below him. The faint glow of lights dotted the fast-approaching horizon, winking in and out from the trees that swayed, blocking their path.
“Ari’s still up there!” Florence’s eyes were glued to the smoking remains of the airship, plummeting down to earth like a swan at the end of its song, taking one last dive.
He gripped the handles tightly. After what she’d said to him, he shouldn’t care. She’d stolen his schematic, she’d cast him aside, she’d shown him exactly how little he meant to her. And now…now he should shrug her off like she was nothing. He should focus on the final sprint of his journey. If she wanted to deal with the Riders for him, he should take the gift without a second thought.
But he strained his neck, looking over his shoulder. She was still up there, headed toward death on his behalf. It tied knots in his stomach. It flipped his heart up-side down. It broke his resolve.
Pantheon above save him, he might care for the woman more than he’d ever bargained for. That brash and unfashionable Wraith had lived up to her word from New Dortam. She had stolen his heart after all.
Cvareh looked forward again, grimacing inward. Yes, let the first woman he’d developed any kind of confusing but substantial feelings for be a Fenthri. Not just any Fenthri, but that Fenthri.
“We have to go back for her.” Florence grabbed his arm, pleading.
“Flor, I’m trying to prevent us from dying right now. It’s what she wanted. It’s what Arianna wanted,” he repeated uselessly, as if that would absolve him of his frantic worry for the woman. “She’s stronger than any Chimera I’ve ever met. She’s stronger than most Dragons I’ve known. If anyone will survive, it’s her.”
“She’s as mortal as you or I! She only dons that illusion because it suits her.”
“You think I’m not aware of that!” he snarled. Florence looked at him in surprise. “You think I am not aware that she is just a woman underneath that white coat? I assure you, I am painfully, frustratingly, confusingly aware.”
The girl stilled. Her hands fell from his person to grip the railing of the oddly shaped glider for stability. She was still weak, he noted. She would continue to decay until she had her transfusion and made the transition to the halfway state of existence known as being a Chimera.
“When did it happen?” Florence whispered.
Cvareh looked at her, cursing her for being so astute. But if anyone were to notice, it would have been Florence. After all the time she’d spent with him and Arianna, she would sense the subtle changes with even the most cursory observations.
“I’m figuring that out myself.” He didn’t mince words. “But now isn’t quite the time.”
Three Fenthri huddled in the front of his glider, clinging to the railing for dear life. Florence had insisted the three join them. The girl refused to take a whole glider to herself despite Arianna’s goals and worries. Her good nature even in the face of danger and death shined through.
“Brace yourselves,” he shouted as the first tree scraped the bottom of the glider.