Chapter 681 How Hard Could It Be?

“She’s in Finnick’s study, I believe,” Aeron replied.

Aeron had been in and out of Shadowclaw for the past two days and was unaware that she was not, in fact, in Fin’s study. He had just checked on Fin again and assumed she was working through that large pile on Fin’s desk, when in reality, she was sitting on the Shadowclaw throne.

Hyran gave a single nod. “Alright. Please inform your Alpha that Drakenfell is under siege. Dark Fae corrupted dragon fleet. Viremont wrote Tiberon, offering to call off the war if Serena was handed over unconscious to him.”

Aeron blinked at Hyran. Hyran blinked at Aeron.

“You’re joking. That wouldn’t have worked months ago. Why would he even try it now?”

“We do not have full clarity on his objective. But I have a theory and my theories tend to age well.” Hyran folded his hands behind his back. “He attempted to lure the King of Drakenfell out under a false parley under a blood seal. When that failed, he sent a letter with his terms. The letter was psychological, meant to rattle her and weaken Maelor’s cloak. The attack would force her to use magic, strengthening the shadow tether. The combination of those things will get the High Emperor what he wants.”

Aeron set down the vial he’d been holding. “If we inform her of the siege, she will portal herself to Drakenfell.”

“I am aware,” Hyran replied. “Tiberon has issued a direct order that the Draken Prime is not to be informed of the siege. She is not to be told about the letter. She is not to receive any information that would compel her to act, because compelling her to act is precisely what the enemy wants and we will not do their work for them.”

“That plan has a shelf life,” Aeron said flatly.

“Yes it does. You need to extend that shelf life as long as possible.”

Aeron Lancaster studied his oldest friend for a long moment. Hyran was unaware that Finnick Shadowclaw was currently in a coma.

“I will guard her and make sure she stays safe. But I will not lie to her. She is our future Luna. If she asks me directly, she gets the truth.”

“Noted. Don’t give her a reason to ask you,” Hyran said. “Tiberon wants Finnick informed on this and Serena guarded by you personally. We also want to be kept informed if Shadowclaw goes under siege. Finnick will make the judgement call if his tunnels are safe for her. If they are not, bring her to Drakenfell immediately and she will go in our tunnels. Where is Finnick?”

“Busy.”

Hyran waited two seconds for more. More did not come.

“Busy,” he repeated.

“That is what I said. Your hearing is adequate. Your portal is still open. Use it. And stay alive today.”

Hyran gave a single nod. Then turned towards his portal.

???

DRAKENFELL – EAST WALL – ONE HOUR LATER

Gavriel Sterling and Dexmon Drakenfell were both glowing gold.

Tiberon looked at Dexmon. Then at Gavriel. His gaze carried the weight of a command being assembled in real time.

“Push the gold protection to every warrior and dragon, the way the Draken Prime does.”

Tiberon was not expecting them to push it to everyone in the pack like Serena had done before. He was aiming low. Just the dragons and the riders.

He waited.

Dexmon and Gavriel exchanged a look that said, how hard can it be?

Dexmon planted his feet. Squared his shoulders. Closed his eyes. His brow furrowed. His jaw tightened. His fists clenched at his sides and the tendons in his neck stood out and his entire body committed to the effort.

He looked constipated. But Gavriel kept that observation to himself.

“Gold for you too, Sterling,” Tiberon said, voice clipped. “One of you needs to be able to do this. I don’t care which.”

Those were the magic words that turned this into a competition that neither of them had signed up for but both of them would rather set themselves on fire before losing.

Gavriel closed his eyes. He dug around inside himself looking for it. He imagined it in his mind as hard as he could. Gold magic. Serena’s magic. A little harder to find than the green that did what it wanted.

Across Skardos, Serena flashed gold for a split second. It was so fast, so brief, that no one noticed.

In Drakenfell, two of her mates were trying very hard at something that, it turned out, was significantly more difficult than either of them had anticipated. The difficulty was producing expressions that belonged on a mural commissioned by Bellatrix.

“Did it work?” Gavriel asked, eyes still screwed shut.

“No,” Hyran answered flatly.

“What about mine?” Dexmon asked, his eyes also still closed.

“No. And you have both stopped glowing gold. You are moving in the opposite direction.”

Gavriel and Dexmon opened their eyes.

Gavriel shrugged. “Yeah, I got nothing.”

Dexmon looked at his hands. Turned them over. The gold was gone. His hands were just hands. Regular, non-magical, deeply unhelpful hands.

Tiberon pinched the bridge of his nose.

“How do I get it to come back?” Dexmon asked Hyran.

“Try channeling flame from Velkaris.”

“I’ve never been able to do that. That’s Serena’s ability.”

“I am aware,” Hyran said flatly. “The Dragon King did not leave additional instructions. He said we were equipped to handle this battle. If he could come back right now to clarify, that would be helpful. Until then, try to channel your dragon.”

Dexmon closed his eyes and focused on his bonded dragon.

On the field, Velkaris lifted his head from where he’d been lounging, looked directly at Dexmon, and yawned.

???

DRAKENFELL – EAST WALL. – TWENTY MINUTES LATER

“What about now?” Gavriel asked, eyes shut, veins standing out on his neck.

“No,” the Draken Forces answered in unison.

The entire wall was watching because this was apparently a team sport.

Tiberon looked at Hyran. Hyran looked at Tiberon. No words were needed.