Black bodies dotted the sky as a thousand ravens circled above the dead and dying. Their piercing screeches rose among the keening wails, a macabre symphony of slaughter.

She pushed past the rot. Tamsyn knew that she wouldn’t last long if she couldn’t retreat back to the east. Every step made her want to vomit. The rancid stench clogged her lungs, but she couldn’t afford to stop walking. Night was creeping closer, no matter how much she tried to outrun it. Gidhian soldiers were trained to be night-time killers. They trained in the darkness that so many hid from, and they killed without mercy.

Despite her dragging footsteps as she forced herself along, the familiar prance of a certain set made her pause. His were unlike her shuffling paces. They were swift, graceful, deadly. She knew better than to believe he was alone.

With a weary jerk of her head she met his gaze and the glint of a dagger beneath it. Piercing stares of green and yellow glinted behind his, as his people watched with interest. No matter how well she knew him, she couldn’t read him. A mask of calm was plastered on his face, even as he raised the blade to her throat. She swallowed hard, sweat beading on her forehead.

_They_ were so close. The echo of a hundred wings pierced her skull. The Gidhian warriors gave no clue that they differentiated between the wind and the flapping of wings.

“I trust you,” she said as his knife pointed at her throat. The blank look on his face was swept away. Realization, surprise.

He had heard the wings, and he knew what the silence meant. _Duck_, she mouthed.

The pair flattened themselves to the ground in an instant as flames erupted from the sky. Dragons streaked through the air, scorching those that ran haphazardly into their path. Heat blasted across their faces as the massive reptiles tore after the fleeing Gidhians. The earth trembled as Mavros landed with heavy footfalls. Tamsyn allowed herself a glance as the gray-blue dragon positioned himself above them. His dagger-like teeth tore into men close to him. The dragon had never failed Tamsyn—not in twenty-four years.