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Morath soldiers fleeing. Nesryn and Salkhi
rose back into the air coated in more black
blood.
High overhead, twin rukhin scout patrols
monitored the battle. As Nesryn wiped the
black blood from her face, one rider dove—
right for Sartaq.
Sartaq was soaring away a heartbeat later.
Nesryn knew he’d kick her ass for it, but
she shouted to the rukhin captain behind her
to hold formation, and steered Salkhi after the
prince.
“Get back in line,” Sartaq ordered over the
wind, his skin unusually ashen.
“What’s wrong?” she called. Salkhi
flapped harder, falling into line with the
prince’s ruk.
Sartaq pointed ahead. To the wall of
mountains just beyond the lake and city.
To the dam that he’d so casually mentioned