Kingdom of Ash

The Thirteen rose so high that the air
became thin. High enough that Manon could
see to the very back of the host, where the
horrific, unmistakable bulk of Iskra
Yellowlegs’s wyvern flew.
A challenge and a promise of a
confrontation to come. Manon knew, despite
the distance, that Iskra had marked her.
No sign of Petrah. Or of the two remaining
Matrons. Who had replaced the Yellowlegs
crone to become High Witch, Manon didn’t
know. Or care. Perhaps her grandmother had
convinced them not to appoint Iskra or a new
one just yet—to clear the way for her own
path to queendom.
Just as Manon’s head turned light at the
altitude, fifty or so wyverns peeled away from
the enemy’s host. Flying upward—racing for
them, beasts freed of their tether. Hungry for
the glory and bragging rights that killing the