Read Chapter 34: The Border Skirmish

The border crossing was a scar of bare earth between two kingdoms, marked by weathered pillars that had once borne golden dragons. Now they stood empty, worn to pale stone. Elara reined in her griffin mount—borrowed, since no dragon could match Aurelia's bulk on short notice—and scanned the valley below.

The Hollow Claw had made camp in a dry riverbed twenty yards from the pass. Eleven figures, hooded and cloaked against the cold. Between them, three heavy iron chests. Eggs. Her eggs.

The queen pulsed through her bond, a thrum of ancient fury that made Elara's teeth ache. *They will not pass.*

"No," Elara whispered. "They won't."

Beside her, Cedric readied his bow, grey eyes hard. "Eleven thieves, one mage by the look of the staff, and those chests are warded. We'll need to be quick."

"Then let's be quick."

Elara raised her hand. Behind her, six riders shifted in their saddles—all that could be spared from the hatchery's defense. The loyalist army drew closer by the hour. She'd had to make a choice: split her strength or let the eggs slip across a border and vanish forever. There had been no choice at all.

She dropped her hand.

The riders descended like falcons, silent until the last moment. The thieves scrambled, reaching for weapons. The mage shouted, raising his staff. A ward flared crimson around the chests.

Elara didn't stop to fight. She drove her griffin straight for the mage.

He saw her coming. His staff crackled with green light, and a bolt of pure force screamed toward her chest. Elara didn't dodge. She opened herself to Aurelia—let the queen's power rise through her like fire through dry timber—and shouted a word that had no translation in any human tongue.

The bolt shattered against her, dissolving into harmless sparks.

The mage's eyes went wide.

Elara landed before he could recover. She rode the momentum of the griffin's stop, vaulting from the saddle and drawing the short blade Aurelia's scales had forged for her. The mage raised his staff again, but Aurelia's fury burned through Elara's veins, and she *pushed*—a pulse of power that struck the staff and snapped it in two.

The ward around the chests flickered and died.

"Secure the eggs!" Elara shouted.

The battle erupted around her. Cedric's arrows sang, taking down two thieves before they reached their mounts. Riders clashed with the crew in a chaos of steel and shouting. Elara turned to find the mage scrambling backward, reaching for a knife at his belt.

She was faster. Her blade pressed against his throat.

"Yield," she said. "Or I'll let the queen decide your fate."

The mage's face went pale. He dropped the knife. Behind him, Elara heard the clash of her riders overwhelming the remaining thieves. One by one, they threw down their weapons.

But the chests. Something was wrong with the chests.

Elara shoved the mage to her riders. "Keep him alive. I need answers." She crossed to the iron chests, and the locket at her throat pulsed—faint, wounded. The eggs inside were cold.

"Open them."

Cedric pried the first lid free. Inside, nestled in straw, lay three dragon eggs—but not Aurelia's line. These were pale, sickly things, filmed with grey membrane. Dying.

Elara's stomach dropped.

"These aren't the queen's eggs," Cedric said. "These are—"

"Decoys." The word came out like ash. Elara spun back to the mage, who was being forced to his knees by two riders. "Where are the real eggs?"

The mage laughed. It was a broken sound. "Gone. Three days' ride ahead of you, through the pass and into the Seneschal's keeping. You've been chasing shadows, girl."

Elara's hand tightened on her blade. "You're lying."

"I'm not." The mage smiled through bloodied teeth. "The Hollow Claw was hired for one job—make you follow the pretty birds while the real theft passed under your nose. Voss planned it herself."

The name hit Elara like a physical blow.

"Voss." She hadn't spoken that name since the day she'd watched her rival exiled from the academy. "Voss is behind this?"

"She's been waiting." The mage's smile widened. "Waiting for you to feel safe. To think the fight was over. She knew you'd chase the bait. And you did."

Elara's breath came short. She'd split her strength. Left the hatchery with a skeleton guard. And if Voss had planned this—

"The loyalist army," Elara said. "It's not marching on the hatchery."

The mage's eyes glittered. "It was always meant to draw you out. Split your forces. Leave the rest of your precious eggs unguarded."

Cedric was at her side. "Elara. We have to get back. Now."

"We can't." Elara's mind raced. The hatchery was two days' hard ride even at full speed. The loyalist force had been three days out. If they'd turned and struck with real purpose—

"The eggs in the hatchery," she breathed. "Aurelia. I need—"

The queen's bond thrummed, desperate and strong. *I feel them. Taken. The ones I carried closest to my heart.*

Elara's locket blazed against her chest. Her mother's locket, the Aethelward heirloom. It had been growing warmer near Aurelia, pulsing like a second heart. Now it burned.

She pulled it free, opened it.

Inside, the portrait of her mother had changed. The painted eyes no longer looked at her. They looked north—toward the academy. Toward the hatchery.

And in the miniature's painted background, Elara saw smoke.

She snapped the locket shut. "Voss isn't striking the hatchery. She's already taken it." She looked at the mage. "How many loyalists does she really have?"

The mage had gone quiet, watching her face.

"She doesn't need the army," Elara said, the pieces falling into place. "She needs it to keep us busy. Meanwhile, she walks in the front door, takes the queen's eggs, and disappears. We chase the thieves, then the army, then—" She stopped. "It's a cascade. Each trap draws us further away."

Cedric's jaw tightened. "Then we stop chasing."

Elara nodded slowly. "We stop chasing." She turned to the mage. "Voss told you to run for the border. She told you we'd follow."

The mage said nothing.

"So she's not waiting at the hatchery at all." Elara stepped closer. "Where is she?"

The mage's silence was answer enough.

Elara sheathed her blade. "Take him. We ride for the hatchery." She swung onto her griffin, the locket still burning against her skin. "But not the way we came."

Cedric mounted beside her, grey eyes searching her face. "What are you planning?"

"Aurelia knows one thing Voss doesn't." Elara met his gaze. "The queen can feel her eggs. Even the stolen ones." She turned toward the rising sun, toward the academy. "We don't have to chase Voss. We just have to be where she's going."

The lead rider saluted. "And the mage?"

"Leave him bound for the border guards." Elara gathered the reins. "Voss will be far angrier to find we weren't fooled at all."

She kicked her griffin into the sky.