Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 136009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Noda had dropped out of the Society training program with Fordham and Kerrigan, but if she was on their side, it would be valuable to have the support of the Concha dragons.
“Yes. And Alura?” Kerrigan asked. She had trained their lot of dragon riders, and though her father, Lorian Van Horn, had been falsely accused of being the Father and sentenced to death for it, Kerrigan was fairly certain they were on the same side.
“I could speak with Anya,” Kivrin said softly. Anya had been his first love, but she’d chosen another man, Lorian. With his death, Anya and Kivrin had been reunited.
“If we could get Galanthea and Venatrix, then we’d have two of the three warring houses and the House of Shadows,” Hadrian said. “We’d be in a much better position.”
“And Mendy,” Fordham added. “The people in Erewa would come to our defense.”
“They don’t particularly like dragons though,” she reminded him. Fordham had infiltrated their ranks when trying to break his curse.
“But they have some Society members, and we could convince them.”
“I could speak for Bryonica,” Kivrin said.
“We all speak for Bryonica,” Kerrigan said. “I just don’t know if our house will be loyal.”
“I could speak with Sonali,” Darby said of her benefactor when she’d been taken out of the House of Dragons.
“With March gone, the other leaders are more progressive,” Kivrin argued. “Sonali would be a great start, but we could speak with Walston as well.”
Kerrigan nodded. That put them in a much better position than she would have thought. Alandria was home to twelve—now thirteen—houses, separated by how they preferred their use of magic. Magic for might were the warring houses to the west—Venatrix, Galanthea, and Herasi. Magic for good were the healing houses to the west—Bryonica, Ibarra, and Concha. Magic for efficiency or menial tasks—Erewa, Sayair, and Zavala. And magic for nothing—Aude, Elsiande, and Genoa. Until recent decades, they had focused on channeling their magic into artifacts, but since Bastian, who was from Elsiande, had taken over as the Father, they were more focused on keeping magic out of the hands of humans and half-Fae.
By her estimation, they had allies in two warring houses, Venatrix and Galanthea; two healing houses, Bryonica and Concha; and two efficiency houses, Erewa and Sayair. Plus, the might of the House of Shadows, the drifters, and possibly humans and half-Fae if they could be safely armed.
They were starting to look like an actual force that could take on the Society. Now she had to find a way to reach them all.
“Well, we know who our potential allies are. The first steps are to get Clover and Hadrian back into the city.”
“Wait,” Darby said. “I should go with them.”
“I don’t know about the dragon holding that many,” Kerrigan said. “It’s asking a lot to take two extra riders already. We’ll have to get Henrley’s permission. Plus, we need you in the infirmary with Amond.”
Darby looked between Hadrian and Clover but saw only resolution. “How will I know you’re okay?”
“I can check in,” Kerrigan said as it came to her. “I can pull them onto the spirit plane…” Her voice trailed off as an idea hit her.
Fordham’s gaze shifted to her. “Why do I feel like I’m going to hate whatever thought you just had?”
“Because it’s me.”
“Kerrigan?”
“I know how to reach our allies,” she said slowly. She glanced up at Fordham, feeling like she should have known all along. “I’ll dreamwalk.”
Chapter Twelve
The Collar
Isa
Isa knelt, her head on the ground. Sweat beaded on her temple and neck. It ran into her bodice, leaving a trail on the black fabric. Her hands were bound behind her back. Her face throbbed from the punch she’d taken from the Father.
This was better than what was to come.
At least here, alone, she could suffer the humiliation in silence and darkness—her constant companions. Even before she’d been sent to the assassin school, she had preferred her own company and the comfort of the night. Now, it was all that was sustaining her.
A stream of light filtered into the pitch-black room. She flinched at the assault to her eyes, which had become accustomed to the darkness.
“The Father requires you,” a female voice snarled.
Isa stretched her aching limbs and came slowly to her feet. She was head and shoulders taller than the other woman, but somehow the other woman was more imposing. It probably helped that she wasn’t chained.
The woman grasped Isa’s arm and hauled her out of the dark room and into the light. Isa blinked rapidly as the woman shoved her in the back to keep moving. Years of careful, stealthy footwork kept her from falling on her face. Still she missed a step and had to hasten to keep herself upright.
She held her head high even as fear crept in on the edges. She missed even a year ago when her biggest fear had been if she’d ever actually get enough money for her and Valia to leave this life behind. Valia had been her sister in all but name at the assassin school they’d been raised in—until the Father had killed Valia for her duplicity, stripping her of her magic, which killed her.