Page 144 of Silver Claws, Crimson Tears
After hours of circling the gorge and finding nothing but dust and shadows, Vaylen signals for us to land on a wide outcropping. My legs ache as I slide from Zephyros’s back. The dragons stretch their wings, clearly as tired as we are. We’re a group of eleven, including Vaylen, Dakar, Cliffbecker, Phoebe, Adelaide, Nate, Silas, Omari, Caspian, Robert Silverin, and me. We’re heavy on the wind elementals because two of our Skysinger allies are here. I suspect Vaylen may want to pull us aside and talk about his plan.
Vaylen gestures to Caspian. “Stay airborne. Watch the horizon.”
He nods, climbing back onto his brown dragon without complaint. I respect him for that, always ready, never questioning. Sometimes I wonder if my life would be easier with less fire in my blood.
“I’ll trade places with him for the second watch,” Ivolunteer.
“Trying to impress the High Prime with your work ethic, Wyndward?” Dakar asks as he sits on a rock to drink from his canteen.
“Is that a problem, Cloudwalker?” I shoot back. “Scared I’ll outwork you?”
Dakar chuckles, but Vaylen glances my way, something softening in his gaze. It’s a look that makes my stomach flip, admiration wrapped in something deeper, more dangerous.
“Wyndward’s always had impressive... stamina,” Silas cuts in, his voice dripping with insinuation. “And I wonder if that is the quality our High Prime finds so captivating.”
The air suddenly feels charged, like before lightning strikes. Vaylen’s head snaps toward Silas, his relaxed posture vanishing instantly.
“What exactly are you implying, Pyrewing?” Vaylen’s voice is deceptively quiet, but I recognize the maelstrom brewing beneath.
Phoebe, Nate, and the others come closer.
Silas straightens, grinning like he’s been waiting for this confrontation. “Only what everyone whispers about, High Prime. Your special treatment of certain Skysingers.” His eyes flick to me. “Certain disgraced ones.”
“Careful, Pyrewing.” Vaylen steps closer. “That’s borderline insubordination.”
“Is it insubordination to question why a murderess gets special assignments while better riders clean stables?” Silas’s face starts flushing red. “Why you always go wherever she goes? Or why, for a year, you mopped around like a lost puppy.”
I’ve never seen Silas this belligerent. There’s something wrong. This isn’t just his usual arrogance.
“That’s enough!” Vaylen’s hands curl into fists.
“Everyone knows you’re fuckingher!” Silas shouts, sounding as if he’s jealous, then lunging forward with his arm pulled back.
Without thinking, I thrust myself between them. “Stop?—”
Pain explodes across my jaw as Silas’s fist connects. My vision blurs, blood filling my mouth as I stagger backward. Vaylen catches me before I fall, his touch gentle despite the fury radiating from him.
Blood coats my teeth as I blink, trying to right the world. Everything swims. Rocks, sky, faces… they all blur together like wet paint on canvas. My jaw throbs with every heartbeat, each pulse sending spikes of pain through my skull.
My vision splits. Two Silas shapes appear before me, wavering, doubling then merging like reflections in disturbed water. His blond hair catches sunlight, then seems to absorb it. One moment he’s Silas with his hateful sneer, the next?—
My breath catches in my throat. The features of the Silas on the right shift, flow like melting wax. His hair lengthens into precise white braids. His gray eyes burn into amber, and sharp cheekbones emerge where Silas’s softer features had been.
“Tahranis,” I whisper, horror crawling up my spine like ice water.
He smiles, that same knowing smile I’ve seen in my nightmares.
Zephyros’s roar rips through the air.
—What is happening?His concern floods our bond, but I’m paralyzed between realities.
—Can you see him?I manage, my thoughts fragmenting like broken glass.
—I see only your Stormsong and that arrogant Pyrewing. Nothing that...His confusion shifts to alarm.Wait. Something is wrong. Your mind… someone else is in there.
—Omneira, Tahranis lips form the word without sound.
Fear turns to volcanic rage in an instant. I lunge forward, my fingers curling like claws.
