Onyx Storm (The Empyrean Book 3)
Onyx Storm: Chapter 57

But even harder than taking a life is doing nothing while one is extinguished beside you. Keep your eyes forward, Mira.

—Page seventy-one, the Book of Brennan

“We fly for Draithus. They’ll attack as soon as they get what they want.”

“And leave Sorrengail to die?”

“Who says she’s even still alive?”

The voices of arguing, armed riders blur as I stand between Xaden and Brennan near the center of the dais, staring at the updated map on the Assembly chamber wall.

“There are thousands coming up the pass out of the city. If Draithus falls, they’re all dead.”

“We have a six-dragon riot stationed there—”

“Ten now that the line has fallen back.”

“Don’t forget the nightwing drift.”

“Against hundreds of wyvern?”

“And at least a dozen dark wielders.”

“Whoever goes isn’t coming back from that.”

“Then you send us.”

“We’re not sending cadets into combat!”

“It was our dragons who woke us. End of debate. We’re going!”

I barely hear any of it. Only one thought matters: Theophanie is done waiting for me, and she has Mira.

She has my sister.

And our last words were in anger.

Fear threatens to worm its way past the rage boiling in my blood, and I fight to deny it entry. Mira doesn’t have time for my fear. It’s a four-hour flight to Draithus, and if we don’t leave in the next half hour, we’ll be too late—not just for Mira but for the thousands of civilians as well.

How did this happen? A harsh red line on the map spans from what had been the eastern front directly to Draithus. They’ve surged in the last twenty-four hours, ignoring everything else along their path, concentrating on this one target when easier, comparable cities remain untouched.

“Not all signets are equal. I know she’s a Maven, but is she more powerful than you?” Brennan folds his arms at my right as the others continue to argue.

“Yes,” I answer. There’s no point lying.

“We’ll be walking into a trap.” His gaze locks on the flag representing Draithus.

“Flying, and who said you were coming?” I counter. The space between the flag and the Cliffs of Dralor seems impossibly small for so many people to flee, and the climb is hellacious. They won’t all make it.

“She’s my sister, too,” Brennan states.

He has a point.

Xaden stands silently in front of the throne, his arms crossed as he studies the field to the north of Draithus, where Theophanie has demanded we meet. “We don’t have enough riders to retrieve Mira, defend Draithus, and protect the pass.”

“No.” Brennan sighs and examines the map more closely. “We’ll have to prioritize an objective. Maybe two.”

Xaden nods.

“We can’t just leave people to die,” I protest.

The arguments between cadets and officers grow louder, and the pit in my stomach deepens. I should be with my squad, but I’ll be damned if I stand patiently and wait for others to decide my sister’s fate.

“What would you do if they were your citizens on the other side of the border?” Cat yells across the room from where our squad stands in loose formation. “Or are you thinking like true Navarrians now that you’re tucked in safe behind your wards?”

A smart-ass captain snaps something back at Cat that I can’t hear over the din, and Sloane charges. I nearly jump over the table, but Dain gets there first, hooking his arm around her waist and hauling her back as she swings. The second he sets her on her feet, those fists are aimed in his direction, and I wince as he lets two make contact before trapping her wrists and leaning in low. Whatever he says must register, because she gives a curt nod, then retorts with a glare and walks back into formation, where Rhi is waiting with what looks like a scathing lecture.

Dain lifts his brows at me, and I grimace in apology before he moves to Bodhi’s side.

“How long are you going to let them fight?” Brennan asks, glancing at Xaden.

“Until my tactician gives me a plan that doesn’t make me choose between objectives,” Xaden answers. “The volume of their delivery doesn’t make their points any less valid.”

“I can’t guarantee two, let alone three.” Brennan’s mouth purses.

“Live up to your reputation and try,” Xaden orders.

Brennan curses, then looks over the room. “I need Tavis and Kaori!” he shouts. Both men quickly separate from the crowd and make their way up Brennan’s side of the dais. “Have you been to Draithus?” he asks Kaori.

“Once.” The professor nods.

“Can you give me a roughly scaled projection of the territory?”

Kaori lifts his hands, and a three-dimensional projection of Draithus and its surrounding areas appears over the table. The room falls quiet as Brennan leans forward, bracing his palms on the table to study the image as Garrick points out where our current defenses stand. The gash on his head and black eye are both gone thanks to Brennan.

The city sits at the southwestern edge of an intermontane plateau that spans a couple dozen miles. It’s surrounded by peaks on every side and accessible only through a winding series of valleys, the western river that flows south to the Arctile Ocean, or air—which Theophanie commands due to her signet. And if Garrick’s reports are accurate, the eastern field is theirs, too.

“Whatever calculations you make, just know that I’ll be going with Violet,” Xaden says.

“I figured,” Brennan answers.

My chest tightens with enough pressure to crush a dragon. “You’ll be risking your life.”

“It’s risked the second you cross the wards, and we both know you’re going after Mira. I’d rather be at your side than hunting you down after you sneak out.” His jaw flexes.

“Theophanie doesn’t want to kill me, or she already would have.” I memorize the topography of the field, feeding the information to Tairn. Between the jagged peaks, lines of forest, and the row of vertical rock formations along the western edge, it’s basically nature’s own fighting pit.

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” Xaden replies as Felix and Professor Trissa walk in. “There are worse things than dying.”

“Is now a good time to point out that Tyrrendor can’t afford to lose her duke on what amounts to a death wish?” Felix asks, heading to the front of the dais with Professor Trissa.

“I have no intention of dying,” Xaden replies. “Panchek has already launched to request reinforcements.”

“Which we know Melgren won’t send. Apparently that late warning was actually an early warning for this,” Trissa counters, keeping her voice level and glancing at me, then Brennan. “I’m sorry for the loss of your sister, but Melgren has already proclaimed this battle a defeat, and he’s never been wrong.”

A lump the size of my conduit forms in my throat. I’m not giving up on Mira, on any of them. “Choice determines our future. Melgren’s only seen the outcome of one path.” I glance at Xaden. “Which couldn’t have had three rebellion relics.”

“Cadets belong in formation, not battle planning,” Trissa snaps at me.

My spine stiffens, and my hands grip the edge of the table.

“She stands at my side.” Xaden’s voice drops into that lethally calm wingleader tone, and he places his warm hand over mine. “Remember that.”

The compliment and the pressure of it aren’t lost on me.

“Starting to understand the consort missive,” Brennan mutters under his breath, then looks at the model from a different angle. “We lose if we only take the officers.”

“Absolutely no cadets.” Felix shakes his head. “Not after what happened last time. We’re still repairing the walls from when those two went rogue.” He looks my way.

Xaden glances toward my squad, his gaze lingering on Imogen, then Sloane, then Bodhi.

“Make a different choice, get a different outcome,” Garrick suggests. “They’ll have to live with themselves, so let them make their choice, too. Gods know we did.”

“Only volunteers. First-years stay behind the wards,” Xaden orders.

“Put us where you need us,” Bodhi calls out, then glances at Dain. “With the permission of our wingleader, of course.”

“Given,” Dain agrees.

Rhi takes count of every hand in the air, which is all of them. “Second Squad stands ready.”

“This cannot be happening,” Trissa argues.

“It is.” Xaden’s tone doesn’t invite interpretation. “The Assembly wanted me in that chair, and now you’ll deal with my decisions while in it.”

“You’re not ready.” Felix shoots the insult my way.

“Even if Draithus and fleeing civilians weren’t under direct threat, she’s my sister. I’m going to do everything I can to rescue her.” I lift my chin.

“Our sister,” Brennan corrects, studying me with a tilted head. “Which means that dark wielder knows way more about us than we do her.”

Xaden looks toward the back of my squad’s formation, where Bodhi stands with Dain. “Garrick, tell me exactly what her demand was. Why does she want Bodhi?”

“I don’t know.” Garrick scratches the stubble along his chin. “She said to bring Violet and your brother, and they’ll let Draithus stand.”

Stand or live? Anca was standing when they left it, too.

Xaden tenses. “She said ‘brother’?”

Garrick nods. “Everyone knows you were raised together.”

“It’s certainly the fastest way to wipe out Tyrrendor’s ruling line,” Trissa notes.

“Right.” Two furrows appear between Xaden’s brows, and his mouth tenses.

“What are you thinking?” I ask.

“Venin don’t care about succession.”

“You have another who calls you by the name,” Sgaeyl chimes in, her words sharper than her teeth.

“Another—” I frown. The only other person who would have qualified for that title was Liam. Wait. The very first time I met her, she didn’t kill me, but she didn’t achieve her rescue objective, either. My stomach hollows. “She wants Jack.”

“That’s my guess.” His gaze darts to Kaori, who’s solely focused on his projection, then jumps to Garrick. “You up for a little walk?” he asks quietly.

Garrick glances at Kaori, then nods.

“Use me,” I whisper to Brennan so Xaden won’t hear. “Once I rescue Mira, I’ll station myself between the pass and Draithus. I can wield in both directions if wyvern get past me.”

“That’s it.” Brennan’s eyes slide shut. “Everyone but the seven of us out. Now,” he orders, his voice booming through the room. “Stay in the hallway for quick recall.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Felix argues as the crowd moves into the hallway.

“You’re the variable I’m missing, and worse, you make Riorson one, too.” Brennan swings his gaze to mine as the Assembly chamber empties.

I draw back. “I’m sorry?”

“Tread carefully,” Xaden warns.

“That right there, for starters.” Brennan stares at me while pointing at Xaden, and I don’t think he’s just talking about this discussion. He gestures to the model. “Violet, pick one objective to win.”

“People will die if we only choose one.” My heart starts to pound.

“Yes.” He nods. “Welcome to leadership.”

“Why me?” I stare at the model. Mira has to come first, but the thought of leaving civilians to be desiccated, our own riders and fliers to die with their bonded ones? It’s too much to fathom. Losing Liam was battle. Mom was her own sacrifice. Trager was…luck. Being responsible for the deaths of thousands?

“Because I don’t think you can,” Brennan answers gently. “Theophanie knows you’ll try to save everyone like you did in Resson, or at Dunne’s temple, or Basgiath before Mom…” He swallows. “That’s why we’ll fail. Because you will choose everyone over yourself, and he will choose you over everyone.”

My stomach hollows.

“You’re not playing fair,” Xaden replies, his voice sliding lower.

“In all the years we’ve known each other, fair isn’t a term I’ve ever heard you argue.” Brennan holds up a single finger. “Prove me wrong so we can go get our sister, Violet. The only way we’re walking out of the trap this dark wielder designed for you is if you don’t fall for it. One objective. One path.” He lifts his brows, and the words hit me square in the stomach.

Tairn would select one in a heartbeat.

Andarna would choose them all.

But she’s gone. What’s the objective with the biggest impact? Setting Xaden aside…Draithus will only hold as long as we can defend it. The same goes for the pass. And if I rescue Mira, there’s every chance Theophanie will—

This isn’t about Mira. She’s hunting me.

“Theophanie.” I take a steadying breath. “I guess I would kill Theophanie.”

“I’m impressed. That was not on my list.” The table creaks as Brennan sits on its edge. “And if Cadet Sorrengail is abducted while securing her objective?”

Shadows spread at Xaden’s feet. “Bodhi will make an excellent duke.”

“At least one of you can be taught.” Brennan rubs the scar on his palm. “Do you trust your squad leader to hold a position this time?” he asks me.

“With my life,” I answer instantly.

“All right.” Brennan nods. “I have one idea.” He looks at us all in turn. “I’ll unlock the armory. Trissa, we need you to open up that little cache you keep of runes and maorsite arrowheads. Xaden, we need you to trust Violet not to get herself killed.” He doesn’t wait for Xaden’s response before staring me down. “And above all else, we need you to understand that you cannot save everyone and you cannot stray from your orders.”

I’ll do whatever it takes to save Mira. “Fine.”