Page 115 of Crown of Betrayal and Blood

Get the hells out of here with everyone still in one piece.

As if to remind me of the importance of the first part of our mission, a soft breeze sweeps over us, carrying the sickly-sweet stench of rot. My nose burns, and I quickly whip my head away and swallow to stop myself from dry heaving.

Leesa gags too.

Bastian frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“Can’t you smell the tainted eyril? It’s foul.”

Agnar and Bastian both sniff the air. Agnar shrugs. “I don’t smell anything alarming.”

A crease forms on my brother’s brow. “Me either. You’ve always been sensitive to it, though, right? Maybe because of the dragon’s blood they use to grow it?”

“Yeah.” I breathe through my mouth, just in case. “Either I forgot how bad it smelled when concentrated like this, or it’s even worse now. But dragoncaller heritage doesn’t explain why Leesa’s so affected.”

Leesa wrinkles her nose. “I never was before. I think it may be an aftereffect of the corruption.” When all three of us stare at her with rising alarm, she holds up her hands. “I’m okay. Apart from that, I feel completely like myself. The second I don’t, I promise to let someone know so you can tie me up and plop me in front of the dragons to guard.”

We did bring rope for exactly that purpose. Just in case. Hopefully, we won’t need to put it to use. “You sure you’re okay with your assignment? We can always try to switch things around.”

Lessa’s head shake is adamant. “I’ve got this, I swear.”

Bastian and I exchange glances before he dips his chin. He and Leesa are on destroy-the-eyril duty, and I’m on liberating-the-dragons duty. Agnar isn’t fond of me facing down at least a dozen drugged, angry dragons, and to be honest, I’m not either. But I’ve gone head-to-head with them before and even freed two from the rot afflicting their brains. Never several at the same time though. And if things go south, there’s no sense in us both getting incinerated.

Once I’ve finished my task, hopefully Agnar will have located Sterling.

Eventually, we’ll have to find a way to hunt down and destroy all of the drachen. But that’s not today’s problem.

I pat Dame’s scaly cheek, then address the group again. “Everyone ready?”

“Ready to get this over with.” Leesa grabs me and pulls me into a tight hug. “Don’t get yourself killed. I’ll be pissed if you do.”

I grin. “I’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about. You sure you’re up to this after everything?”

She pulls back, face softening. “Yep. Thanks to you. The eyril I took days ago should be out of my system, so even if I do cross paths with a drachen, there won’t be a repeat.”

Our trek through the woods is silent. No one wants to risk alerting anyone of our presence.

Shadows stretch across the ground, making our path difficult to discern. We move cautiously, staying close and listening for any signs of danger.

After an hour of creeping through trees and underbrush, freezing up each time we hear a bird trill or leaves rustle in the breeze, we finally reach the edge of Flighthaven. We slink over to a patch of wall near a less populated part of campus and quicky fly over the top, with Bastian carrying Leesa.

Sunlight bathes the familiar buildings and paths of the eerily still campus.

No guards patrolling. No students headed to class. No one participating in training exercises.

Nothing.

I don’t know what I expected, but the eerie silence and not a single sign of life isn’t it.

My heart pounds and sweat beads on my forehead. Memories of my time in this place assault me, both good and bad.

Olive, greeting me with a friendly smile in the cafeteria that first day, helping me feel less alone while everyone else sitting at the long tables whispered and gawked.

Helene, offering me vanilla custard as a supposed olive branch and watching as the icy toxin she added choked the air from my lungs.

Helene later, justifying her actions in that superior way of hers by claiming that she secretly dated my sister and knew Leesa believed Flighthaven was dangerous for me and would have wanted Helene to keep me away.

The attack in the showers, where a small group of students threw a sack over my head and stranded me on top of a tower with an alicorn to prove I was too terrified to fly one. And then my rescue by a certain grumpy instructor as I started to climb my way down in the rain. The fierce need he ignited inside me when he pressed my body to his on the ride down. How he returned that desire once we landed, his glittering eyes raking over the rain-soaked nightgown clinging to my curves.

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