Yvan’s aura gives a violent flare. “We can’t stay here.” The troubled whirl of his fire mirrors my own, an expression of immense frustration tightening his jaw. “The Vu Trin will be searching for both of us.” His fire stokes hotter, his eyes twin flames that quicken my pulse. “I won’t let them take you, Elloren.”

“We can’t wage war on our allies,” I counter. “I’ve a room on a varg-rune-warded air ship. In the center of the city’s Sixth Tier. The Vu Trin...they knew I was there, but it’s possible they won’t check again right away.”

“It might be the only place I can go without being tracked,” he says. “They will track me down, Elloren. Quite soon.”

“Do you think we can get there without being spotted?”

His glowing eyes narrow. “I do,” he says. He pulls in a deep breath, his horns contracting, as his ears round and the luminous Noi runes and varg runes marking his chest fade under his partial glamour. “Hold on to me,” he offers, and I nod, moving toward him.

He pulls me tight against his warm chest, a thrill coursing through my body as I’m lifted effortlessly, wrapped around his heated form once more. Carefully scanning the dark river and wall of mountains beyond, Yvan walks us to the cliff’s edge. Then he throws out his wings...

And leaps off the cliff.

A queasy rush sweeps through me as we free-fall before his powerful wings beat down, lifting us into a controlled soar southward. He accelerates, keeping close to the Voloi Mountain Range’s western face, the world quickly reduced to a speeding blur.

Flying under sparse cloud cover, we eventually veer up toward a broad, blue-lit rune ship then slow under its base, wrapped around each other inside the rune-encircled cavity.

The shimmering tiers of Voloi appear through gaps in the rotating runes and apprehension mounts, the city likely swarming with Vu Trin searching for us both.

The ship veers toward the Sixth Tier, and I spot Mora’s rune ship, tiny from this distance, its line of green-glowing Smaragdalfar runes unmistakable.

“There,” I say, pointing.

Yvan takes off like a shot and the world blurs once more, everything a streaking tunnel around us. Our surroundings snap back into focus as Yvan lands us in the shadows of the ship’s riverside walkway. My feet touch down on lacquered wood, the will to survive engulfing my fright.

We slip inside my small bedroom and I shut and lock the door behind us, douse Mora’s rune lamp, and hastily draw the curtains as Yvan glamours his wings. I turn and meet his gaze in the faint emerald light emanating from the varg runes marking the walls.