The slight bump on her nose—Manon had
given her that. She’d broken it in the Omega’s
mess hall for brawling with mouthy
Yellowlegs. Asterin had never once
complained about it. Had seemed to wear the
reminder of the beating Manon bestowed like
a badge of pride.
“Only you can decide if you deserve it,
Manon.”
Manon let the words settle as she shifted
her gaze to the western horizon. Perhaps she’d
deserve that honor if she succeeded in
bringing them back to a home they’d never set
eyes on.
If they survived this war and all the terrible
things they must do before it was over.
It was no easy thing, to slip away from
thirteen sleeping witches and their wyverns.
But Dorian Havilliard had been studying