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awaiting palm, the Amulet of Orynth clinking
faintly against her iron nails. Only a fool
would bring them into one of Erawan’s
strongholds. “They might not be your
priority,” Dorian said, “but they remain vital
to our success.”
Manon’s eyes had narrowed as she
pocketed the keys, utterly unfazed at holding
in her jacket a power great enough to level
kingdoms. “You think I’d toss them away like
rubbish?”
Asterin suddenly found the snow to be in
need of her careful attention.
Dorian shrugged, and unbuckled Damaris,
the sword too fine for a mere wyvern trainer.
He passed it to Manon, too. An ordinary
dagger would be his only weapon—and the
magic in his veins. “If I don’t come back,” he
said while she tied the ancient blade to her
belt, “the keys must go to Terrasen.” It was