The Last Namsara (Iskari #1)(68)

The sound of shattered glass erupted from above.

A thousand colored shards rained down on them.

Jarek let go. Asha raised her arms over her head, protecting herself from the falling pieces. She looked up, watching her father’s torn banner flutter to the floor.

A fierce wind howled through the broken window—or maybe that was the dragon.

With outstretched wings, the dust-red dragon swooped, circling downward, as out in the street, the screaming started. Asha could hear people pushing and shoving, running for cover.

Shadow landed clumsily on the stone floor before Asha. Gasps rose from the guardians behind her. Two of them fell to their knees.

Righting himself, Shadow’s pale slitted eyes flickered over her, checking for injury, before narrowing on the commandant and the king at her back. Shadow roared, and the temple shook with the sound. As if the Old One himself had woken from a too-long slumber, angry, ready to take back what belonged to him.

Atop Shadow sat Torwin, a bow slung over his shoulder and a knife tucked into his boot. Steely eyes met Asha’s. He wore a strange fitted coat and gloves, with a dark green sandskarf pulled up over his face, covering his nose and mouth.

You’re supposed to be gone, she thought. You’re supposed to be safe.

And yet her hope ignited at the sight of him.

Shadow hissed. Jarek stepped back, out of the circle of fire and away from Asha, his hands raised.

Her father yelled for the soldats. But the doors to the chamber were shut tight. Maya and a few of the other temple guardians were shoved up against them.

With Shadow’s gaze pinning Jarek in place, Torwin held one hand down to Asha. She rose and seized it, letting him pull her up. Asha hiked up the hem of her dress to straddle Shadow’s back. Torwin’s arm slid around her waist, keeping her tight against him. He clicked to Shadow, who hissed another warning and stretched his wings wide.

“Are you ready?”

Her heart thudded at the sound of his voice at her ear, slightly muffled by the fabric of the sandskarf. He smelled like dragonfire and smoke.

“I’ve never been more ready,” she said.

His eyes crinkled. She knew beneath the sandskarf he was smiling the smile she loved best. One that involved his whole mouth.

“Hold on.” His arm tightened as Shadow beat his wings, shifting from foot to foot.

Asha’s stomach lurched as they sprang into the air.

In his leap for the window, Shadow knocked over a torch and her father’s crumpled banner caught fire. As they rose toward the window, Asha looked back to the flames, past Jarek, to the dragon king. Smoke twisted around him.

His eyes raged at her. But underneath the surface, Asha thought she saw the seed of a great fear.

Be afraid, Father. I’ll make you regret everything you’ve ever done to me.

Shadow soared out through the broken window and into the night.

Asha laughed—softly at first. And then deliriously.

She’d just escaped her own wedding on the back of a dragon.

They soared over rooftops, then over the wall. Asha turned and looked back, watching the city fall away, marveling at how different the streets and rooftops looked from so high up. Like a winding web. Shadow sailed higher, beyond the wall and out into the Rift.

The higher they rose, though, the colder it got. Soon Asha’s teeth chattered. Torwin pulled her closer, trying to use his heat to stave off her chill.

Asha curled into him. With the lower half of her face pressed into his shoulder, she watched her home shrink into the distance before turning her eyes to the sky.

The stars shone like crystals above them and the moon had bled out. It was waxing instead of waning now.

It would be pale and slivered and new.





Thirty-Three


Asha woke with her cheek against a bony shoulder. Torwin unlatched her hands from their grip on his arm and Shadow fidgeted beneath her, waiting patiently for his riders to dismount.

They’d landed on some kind of precipice. The Rift surrounded them, snakelike and silhouetted beneath the stars. Somewhere in the distance stood the city, but they were so high and far, Asha couldn’t even make out the wall. Below them sprawled thick, scrubby forest.

Torwin dismounted first, sliding effortlessly down Shadow’s side. Asha swung her leg over so she could follow and found Torwin already turned to catch her, his hands taking hold of her waist as he guided her down to the earth.

When her slippered feet touched the stony ground, she looked up to find his worried gaze tracing her scar. Remembering the sight of herself in the mirror, she turned her face, keeping the scar out of his sight.

“I’m fine.”

Torwin’s hands slid up her cheeks. Gently, he turned her to face him.

“Are you?”

The breath rushed out of Asha. She nodded.

With his hands still cradling her face, his gaze continued to search her.

Asha grabbed hold of his wrists, stopping his searching gaze. “No one hurt me,” she said, willing him to hear what she wasn’t saying: Jarek didn’t hurt me. “I promise.”

He lingered over her, trying to decipher if this was the truth or her attempt to protect him. Finally, he nodded.

Shadow whuffed. Torwin and Asha both looked up, over her shoulder, at the hulking dark form. Torwin’s hands fell away from her face. Whistling to the dragon, he reached out a palm and Shadow nuzzled it before turning and launching himself into the sky.