CHAPTER ELEVEN
As dawn broke over the fort of Volis, Aidan frantically paced its ramparts, searching the horizon for any sign of his father, or Kyra, or his brothers—or any of the men. He had been up most of the night in a state of unease, tormented by nightmares of his sister falling into a pit, of his father being burned alive in a harbor. He had paced these ramparts under the night’s sky, the stars aglow, and had not stopped searching the countryside for them since, anxious for their return.
Deep down, Aidan suspected they were not returning to Volis any time soon—if at all. Kyra was heading west across Escalon, through a treacherous terrain, and his father, brothers, and their men were heading somewhere south, into battle and likely death. Aidan burned inside. He wanted more than any
