Page 43 of The Dragonrider and the Void
They rushed from the vault, Lark taking only a moment to seal the metal door behind them. As they hurried through thedestroyed archives, Yarla grabbed one last scroll from a partially intact shelf.
“Wait,” she said. “This might be important.” She quickly scanned the contents, then nodded to herself before tucking it into her robes.
They burst into the courtyard to find White Eye pacing anxiously, his wings half-extended in preparation for flight. The air had grown noticeably colder, and at the edges of the sanctuary, where the wards met the mountain slopes, frost was beginning to form.
“Rimeshade?” Venrick asked.
Lark shook her head, mounting White Eye with practiced ease. “Worse. I think the Entity itself is probing the sanctuary’s defenses.”
Yarla accepted Venrick’s help onto the dragon’s back, her face pale but determined. “It knows we were here. It knows what we found.”
Venrick swung up behind Lark, settling into position between her and Yarla. “Where to now?”
Lark looked toward the south. “The Vermillion Keep. If there’s anywhere that might hold the secret to rebinding the Void Drinker, it’s there.”
As White Eye launched into the darkening sky, Lark glanced back at the sanctuary. For a moment, she thought she saw a humanoid figure standing in the courtyard: a silhouette made of deeper darkness than the encroaching night, its edges rippling like liquid. Then they banked around a mountain peak, and the sanctuary disappeared from view.
The cold that nipped at her cheeks from the crisp northern sky paled in comparison to the ache she felt in her bones at what lay ahead. She squeezed Venrick’s arm, and he tightened his grip around her, but Lark knew they’d stumbled onto something much bigger than she’d ever thought possible.
12
RETURN AND REVELATION
Comfortably gliding above the Everburning Forest, Lark searched through the canopy, checking for signs of the rebel camp hidden in the understory.
“We’re approaching the wards. The camp should appear any minute now,” Venrick said into Lark’s ear.
His presence against her back on the long flight was a comfort she allowed herself to relish, only tainted slightly by Yarla’s presence. White Eye descended at her directive. Lark felt the slight pull on their bodies as they passed through the web of enchantments. Canvas tents appeared, exposing the expansive army of humans, elves, dwarves, and Morsythians. As they soared in to land, Lark spotted unusual activity below. Messengers darted between tents, soldiers abruptly stopped mid-training, their attention focused on troops returning from patrol.
“Something seems off,” Venrick said from over her shoulder.
“We’re going to make a pass over the camp before landing,” Lark acknowledged.
White Eye slowed his flight at her direction, circling the perimeter once before finding a clearing large enough toaccommodate his size. As he cupped the air, battering the trees with his wing beats, Lark shared the slight unease he was feeling.
Their wards are intact and there doesn’t appear to be anything threatening them,Lark thought, trying to keep them both calm and rational in the moment.
Ezra emerged from the tree line before they had fully dismounted, his weathered face drawn with concern. The dwarf’s normally meticulous beard was unkempt. His scarred head was sprouting stubble where it was normally kept clean shaven, suggesting days without proper rest.
“Lark,” he said, breathy from his hustle. “Cheyanne brought back word that you were alive and well, but I needed to lay me own eyes on you to believe it. You really have returned,” he said, helping her down from the saddle. To her surprise the dwarf met her with a stout hug. Lark held back for a moment, but when the warmth of his embrace settled, she returned the gesture. Ezra pulled back, keeping her at arm’s length for a moment. He quickly assessed her for injury, then stepped back to take in Venrick and the elf they’d returned with. “Cheyanne’s had to split her focus away from the mission she’s planning. We’ve been sending out more patrols to look but haven’t had any sign since we lost them.”
“Wait, slow down,” Lark said. “What are you talking about? Lost who?”
“Err, so you don’t know,” he grumbled.
“Ezra, what’s happened?” Venrick asked, dropping lightly from White Eye’s back.
“Hardin’s gone,” Ezra replied. “He and his dragon left shortly after you went in search for Lark. The lad left without any warning, no message or nothing. Sasja won’t say anything as she’s sworn to secrecy on his behalf. He slipped right out of the camp as if the wards weren’t there at all.”
Lark exchanged a look with Venrick. “I know he’s a Ward Walker, but shouldn’t the camp’s wards have?—”
“Alerted us at his dragon’s passing, yes,” Ezra cut in. “We’re still trying to understand how he managed it. Ingamar’s been trying to communicate with the elves but without the bond, it’s hard to know what he’s trying to say. Hardin had just begun his training. He didn’t have the skill to manipulate wards enough to get a dragon through without disturbing them.”
“Hardin pulled me through the portal, without Joc knowing,” Venrick said.
“I thought you were caught because the Magus sensed you passing through his wards,” Ezra corrected.
“Well, technically, yes, but it was a subtle enough passing that he didn’t notice right away,” Venrick argued.
