Page 119 of The Reckoning of Starlight

“Let’s hope she remembers the herd is the meal,” Lykor muttered. He’d seen the carnage Blossom had strewn at the Vallende estate.

Jassyn pressed his palm to the ledge. Moss spilled beneath his fingers and ran across the cavern floor, tiny white flowers opening in the green. “It’ll ease the strain from flying,” he murmured as the growth crept toward the pool, its blossoms glowing through the steam.

Fenn combed his talons through the blooming mat, and Serenna and Vesryn held their arms over the water’s edge. Wherever it touched them, the moss withered. White petals browned and curled as light kindled along their veins.

Jassyn coaxed fresh life through the dead, weaving it over the husks.

Lykor’s boots cracked another circuit across the stone. Neither Bhreena’s tantrum nor Blossom’s feeding habits explained the secrecy. And Jassyn playing earth mender for three naked bathers explained even less.

He stopped at the pool’s edge. “What are we actually here to discuss?”

Jassyn lifted his gaze. “Tomorrow, the rangers and our fliers will ascend to the highest isle in the Aetherveil. We’ll confirm Veyrix’s location, then free him before Galaeryn’s forces find him.”

The loosened ties of Jassyn’s tunic bared a strip of skin at his throat. Lykor’s gaze snagged there, and the rainforest returned in a rush—Jassyn’s mouth crashing against his, desperation sharp on his tongue. The recklessness. The instant the world had narrowed to only him.

Lykor turned back to the pool. The three in the water had managed to set the war aside for an hour. Lykor couldn’t remember the last time his body hadn’t been braced for the next disaster.

“A contingent of your wraith will shadow the human column through the Everglow Rainforest,” Jassyn continued. “They’ll track its pace and keep an eye on the razorwing scouts. The rest will remain here with the druids to hold the caverns and guard the civilians.”

Lykor crossed his arms. “This was all settled in the council.”

“But no one talked about what comes after,” Vesryn said. “If we free Veyrix while the king keeps mining Hearts of Stars from that crater, he’ll forge another leash. We’ll buy time. Nothing more.”

The prince was right, and Lykor hated that more than this heated chamber. Every fight had become the same ugly ritual—scramble to survive with no victory in sight and wait for the next blow to find them.

“Galaeryn already commands Rimeclaw’s frost and holds stolen hatchlings of fire and lightning,” Lykor said. “Wind and earth are all that remain free. If he claims Veyrix and Blossom, he can give the Aelfyn every dragon’s power.”

“As long as we protect Blossom,” Serenna said, “the earth stays out of his reach.”

Protect. As if any of them had managed that yet.

“He’ll come for her,” Lykor snapped. “He’ll tear this mountain open to root her out.”

Jassyn straightened and met Lykor’s gaze. “Then we stop him before that happens. You were right in the rainforest. We strike where his forces can bleed. We stop waiting for the war to find us.”

Savage approval stirred, but unease followed close behind. Jassyn had begun to sound like him.

“We’ll never win if Galaeryn keeps choosing where we fight,” Fenn agreed, his grin gone. “Even if we have Skylash, Veyrix, and Blossom, the elf king still has enough soldiers to grind us down.”

“And that’s before we account for the king himself.” Lykor resumed his circuit through the steam. “We won’t see his hand until it’s already gripping our throats.”

Vesryn trailed his fingers through the water. “So we deal with the wind gliders and find Veyrix first.”

“Then we start taking out the Essence-wielders from the Everglow column,” Jassyn said.

Lykor turned. “We still have enemy forces unaccounted for.”

Vesryn’s mouth tightened. “Kyansari’s soldiers, the northern shamans, and Centarya.”

Jassyn shook his head. “We can barely hold one front. Open another and—”

His hands locked against the stone.

The moss under his fingers burst into flowers, then blackened.

Wings tore from his spine. Scales swept across his skin, his body convulsing. His fingers clawed at the ledge. Moss erupted in their wake and rotted, life and death racing each other across the rock.

His pupils narrowed to draconic slits. Whatever he saw lay far beyond the cavern.