Such a Daring Endeavor Read Online Free PDF Page A

get to him before something terrible happens,” I say inwardly, imagining Tyrus’s face and my fist landing directly in its center.
    “You still haven’t told me much about him,” Ren says as he begins bouncing on his toes as well. His fists go up in defense, and he directs a jab toward my face, which I block.
    “I don’t know what to tell you, honestly. I don’t know where I stand with Talon.” Not now that I know he’s Feihrian, the race of born warriors and betrothed to a Feihrian maiden. “But I have to rescue him, Ren. If Gwynn was right, Tyrus is planning on executing Talon any day now.”
    “And that won’t be a small event, that’s for sure.”
    I dance around, whirling to kick Ren in the side. He ducks and rolls. Where Talon would have landed lithely on his feet, ready for more sparring, Ren knocks into the side of the cot and rises clumsily to his knees.
    “What do you mean?” I ask as he regains his feet.
    Ren wipes his upper lip with the back of his hand. “I spent a lot of time in Tyrus’s company. I literally belonged to him, so of course he thought he could trust me with things. Hatred is too moderate of a word for how Tyrus feels about that kid.”
    “I know Talon said he betrayed the Arcaians somehow,” I say, careful not to reveal too much. Talon was so reticent about telling me, it seems wrong to say it aloud now.
    I stop for a drink from the water the Black Vaulters left for us at the door. The breakfast dishes are empty—they still haven’t come to retrieve them. I take a long sip of the warm, stale water, and breathe. In an instant, magic slithers forward, frothing at my fingertips. It’s cooped up just like I am, ready to be released.
    “I still can’t believe you can do that,” says Ren. He takes my arm and holds it before his face. The silver tangles its way along, ricocheting light in his eyes.
    He lifts his hand as well, frowning at it in concentration. Nothing happens. After an exhale, he tries again
    “I know you released me from Tyrus,” he says, brows gathered in frustration as his hand continues to float in the air. “I…
felt
it. But are you sure you restored my magic?”
    I rest my head against the wall. “It’s the Prone. You can’t use yours in here.”
    “Then why can you? You still haven’t told me how you found yours. We all tried for years to get you to Torrent.”
    I turn away and go back to the window. Sunlight casts an orange haze across the spread of burlap tents in the distance, just within Valadir’s city gates. The Arcaians have destroyed even more of the city than I realized. Remnants of the businesses and homes that once stood here have been thrusted in piles along the gates and streets, making way for the mass of soldiers who pace below.
    They create ranks as wide as the streets, pacing in haphazard lines and rhythms, some shuffling, some with heads lolling. Which one of those soldiers below managed to best Talon, I wonder?
    “It was Talon,” I say. “Talon helped me.”
    The memory drives into the deepest parts of me, a current touching all the fear of that night, the feverish urgency, the heartache and utter shock at finding Talon had joined me after all. The Arcs must have been expecting him. They must have been prepared. I saw Talon go up against Tyrus himself once, as well as multiple soldiers at one time. There’s no way they could have taken him easily.
    If only I could see the Triad Palace from here. Too many buildings block the way, but that’s where I’m certain Talon is being held. There must be dungeons in a palace like that. And once Tyrus had Talon, he would keep him as secure as possible.
    Citizens dressed casually in contrast to the sea of khaki uniforms below intermingle, trudging with drawn expressions, hung-down heads and a placid Unresponse. I watch a soldier laugh as he casts a long whip at several stragglers. Red marks lick their way up a woman’s back through her white shirt as she attempts to push herself up