I spent the bulk of the journey with my eyes squeezed shut and my face pressed between my gran’s shoulder blades. It wasn’t until Chris poked me in the side that I risked a glance downward. The sight of the hundreds of islanders surrounding the walls was as alarming as the distance from which I was seeing them. Gran had seemed confident we’d be able to help, but watching people desperately climb over one another in an attempt to breach the wall, I didn’t see how.

Nor did I see any hope for the citizens of Courville, who were packed into skiffs across the open water of the bay, the other city only barely visible in the distance. The skiffs appeared to be floating on thin air, but I could see where the surf broke against the magic, froth and foam soaking those it supported.

Melusina circled the city, and the three of us all gazed down the coast of the bay, past Trollus, to where Tristan and Roland still warred. The earth was razed for miles in either direction, clouds of black smoke filling the air, broken by the occasional gout of fire or steam.

“Land us on the castle tower,” I shouted at the dragon, my stomach rising into my throat as she plunged. The castle grounds teemed with soldiers running frantically to their posts, hands gesturing skyward; and as we dropped, a cloaked figure stepped out onto one of the towers, concealed face tracking our progress. It was Marc.

But my elation was short-lived. Melusina shrieked and pulled up as the air charged, all of us sliding to one side, barely holding on.

“Marc,” I called. “Marc, it’s us!”

The dragon screamed again, then dived, and I was sure we were done for. That Marc had pulled her from the sky. Then her wings snapped wide, and my spine cracked as she pulled up, hovering above the tower. With birdlike delicacy, she carefully took hold of the battlements and closed her wings to her side.

“Cécile?” Marc demanded.

“Get us down!”

I rested on the icy stone of the tower to regain my equilibrium before staggering to the edge to look out over the water. The magic road trembled and shook, countless people falling into the sea. Swimming. Drowning. “We need to help them,” I said, and no sooner were the words out of my mouth then the ground shook.

And all the skiffs plunged to the water.

Chapter Fifty-Three

Tristan

My plan to let Roland hammer away at my shields for the next hour vanished out from under me. I wouldn’t last another ten minutes.