Page 139 of The Last Dragon
“That’s what I’ve been telling him.” Eryca rolls her eyes and crosses her arms.
Sam glances between me and Eryca, his brow furrowing as if piecing together the fragments of our conversation. His gaze finally stops on me. “Where’s Nida?”
Those words hit me in the gut. “She’s been taken,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat. “She’s here—somewhere. I heard Rylan mention her.”
“Did he say her name?” Sam asks.
“No, just… called her—”
“She must be in the dungeons,” he interrupts.
I nod. “I need to get her out.”
Sam inhales deeply, then shakes his head. “No. You can’t. If you get seen, we’re basically dead.”
“What do you expect me to do?”
“Lay low,” Sam says, leaning in. “I’ll find where she is and get her out. Somehow.”
“Valous—” I say quickly, grabbing all of his attention. “Valous has an army.”
Eryca is now shaking. “An army? How the hell did he get an army?”
“Locals. Women, men, some are even children. Soldiers who deserted, villagers who are clipped. I think some of them are from Medyn. Garta. People who are done with Grogol and the King. At first I resisted, but now I don’t see any other way than to team up with him.”
“Can we trust him?” Sam asks.
I pause. “He helped us.”
Sam nods. “Alright. Alright then—a rebellion.” It’s like he read my mind and Valous’ in a split second.
I nod. “A rebellion.”
“Another thing,” Sam says, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he hopes the words will disappear before reaching us. He hesitates, drawing in a deep breath before finally meeting my eyes—like a man facing his biggest fear. “Grogol relies on me… to tell him where you’ll be.” His voice cracks, pain flickering in his green eyes, and my stomach plummets. “Statistically.”
His words knock the air from my lungs. Every breath burns, like I’m inhaling toxins. Deep in my mind, a thought claws its way up, relentless, no matter how hard I try to shove it back down.
Valous’ tavern.Was it Sam?
“I can lead them away,” he says quickly, his voice shaking. “I can tell them where you could be without you having to be there. Instead, you can find a safe spot to lie low for a couple of days.” His body tenses, jaw clenched like the next words are going to hurt him. Or me. “But you have to tell me. Statistically.Realistically…where would you be, if not here?”
“Nedersen,” I blurt out.
“No,” he shakes his head. “You wouldn’t go back to the same spot you’ve stayed.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I seethe, anger traveling up my throat like fire. “Just tell them I’d be in Nedersen. No one’s going to be there at this point.”
Sam looks at me, jaw tight. His eyes squeeze shut. “It would work with anyone else… but you.” The words are quiet. Too careful. And still, they hit like a punch to the gut. My brow furrows. What does that mean? He sees the confusion flicker across my face.
“He knows you,” Sam says, voice raw now, a thread unraveling. “More than any of us ever could.”
And just like that, the air leaves my lungs.
Because he’s right.
Grogol doesn’t just know my tactics—hebuiltthem. He trained me, shaped me, peeled back every layer until there was nothing left but calculation. He knows how I think, how Imove, what I choose before I even choose it.
He made me.
