Page 74 of The Dragonrider and the Void
“I shouldn’t have left her,” Venrick muttered, the familiar weight of failure settling on his shoulders.
“You did what she asked,” Yarla replied firmly. “And you secured part of the ritual. The fight isn’t over, Venrick.”
A shout from below spurred them forward. They crossed the makeshift bridge, moving from rooftop to rooftop as the city began to stir around them. Venrick’s strength returned gradually with each step, the corruption continuing its steady retreat from his system.
After several blocks, they descended via a rain gutter to an alley behind a tannery. The stench of chemicals masked their scent from any tracking hounds the Knights might employ.They moved cautiously through the awakening city, keeping to shadows and side streets.
A checkpoint loomed ahead at the east gate. Knights were checking everyone leaving the city. Venrick pulled his hood lower, concealing the fading corruption marks that still traced his jawline.
“Papers,” a guard demanded as they approached.
Yarla stepped forward smoothly, her elven features composed into a mask of haughty indifference. “My servant and I are returning to Gambria after the festival,” she stated, producing documents that Venrick recognized as Cheyanne’s forgeries.
The guard scrutinized the papers while another peered at Venrick suspiciously. “Remove your hood,” he ordered.
Venrick hesitated, knowing full well that if his ears didn’t give him away, the corruption marks, though fading, would immediately identify him. Before he could comply, a commotion erupted at the opposite side of the gate.
“Stop peddling that blasphemy against the King!” someone shouted. “Where did you get this false propaganda? Arrest them!”
The guards turned instinctively toward the disturbance. In that moment, Yarla grabbed Venrick’s arm and pulled him through the checkpoint, melting into the crowd of merchants and travelers beyond.
“That was too close,” Venrick muttered as they hurried along the east road, putting distance between themselves and the city walls.
“Cheyanne’s rebels,” Yarla explained, her lips curving in a slight smile. “The distraction was planned.”
They followed the road only until they were out of sight of the walls, then veered north into the rugged terrain leading away from the foothills of the Astral Mountains. They found the ravinecarved out by a seasonal creek bed and followed it in search of Hardin. Venrick’s heart pounded when he saw a dragon lurking around a corner. He mis-stepped, hesitating at the sight of the dragon’s midnight scales as they blended almost perfectly with the morning shadows. It took him more than a few frantic seconds to recognize Quinthara.
Hardin called out to Venrick from a nearby boulder. Relief rushed over both as they spotted one another. “I was about to send Quin to look for you,” Hardin said on Venrick’s approach.
“The checkpoints are tightening,” Yarla reported. “They’re searching methodically.”
Venrick approached Quinthara cautiously. The young dragon regarded him with intelligent eyes, then lowered her head in greeting.
“Can she sense White Eye?” Venrick asked.
Hardin nodded, his expression grave. “He’s still in the mountains, watching the Keep. He confirms that Lark is alive but imprisoned in the central tower.”
Venrick reached out hesitantly, placing his hand on Quinthara’s scales. The dragon rumbled, a sound that vibrated through his palm and up his arm. Through this tenuous connection, he glimpsed what White Eye had shared; a sense of Lark’s determination, her refusal to surrender despite her captivity.
“We need to get to the Everburning Forest,” Hardin said, breaking into Venrick’s thoughts. “Ezra needs to see these pages, and you need proper healing.”
“I can still fight,” Venrick insisted, though his body betrayed him with a tremor at that moment.
“You will,” Yarla assured him, “but first, we need to understand what we’re fighting with and get these pages to the rest of the book.”
Hardin helped them mount Quinthara, positioning Venrick between himself and Yarla for support. As the young dragon spread her wings, Venrick cast one last look at the Vermillion Keep, its red towers now catching the first rays of sun.
I’ll come back for you, Lark,he promised silently.Whatever it takes.
Quinthara launched skyward with powerful wing beats, climbing rapidly above the city. From this height, Venrick could see Paragons on dragonback patrolling the skies, searching. Brismil armor glinted in the morning light, seeming to slice through the air.
“Stay low,” Hardin directed Quinthara, who immediately adjusted her flight path to skim just above the treetops, using the terrain for cover.
Astral City fell behind them, but Venrick carried the weight of his failure with him.
I’ve escaped with the ritual pages, yes. But at what cost?he thought.Lark remains in the clutches of the King and the Void Drinker. I can’t save them alone and the Flashover is approaching.
The black lines on his arms had faded to gray, the King’s corruption nearly purged from his system. But from his experiences with Tel Roan, Venrick knew that some wounds went deeper than flesh.
