CHAPTER 17

Lysandra ducked, but not fast enough to avoid
the lash of power that sliced down her arm.
She hit the ground, rolling, as she’d learned
under Arobynn’s careful tutelage. But Aedion
was already in front of her, sword out.
Defending his queen.
A flash of light and cold—from Enda and
Sellene—and the Morath messenger was
pinned to his knees, his dark power lashing
against an invisible barrier of ice-kissed wind.
Around the tent, all had fallen back,
weapons glinting. Flanking the downed man,
Ilias and Ansel had their swords already