The assassin had been thorough in covering their tracks—or so they had thought.
Three days after the attack, Kestrel summoned Seraphina to a small chamber deep within the Citadel. The room was stark, its only furniture a wooden table and two chairs, and on the table lay a collection of objects that Seraphina didn't recognize.
"What is this?" she asked, settling into the chair across from Kestrel.
"The assassin's possessions. Or what remains of them." He pushed a small object across the table—a ring, its metal twisted and scorched but still recognizable. "This was hidden beneath their clothing. It bears a mark I recognize."
Seraphina picked up the ring, examining it carefully. Set into the metal was a symbol—a dragon, but not the noble creatures she had come to know. This dragon was twisted, its wings spread in agony, its mouth open in a silent scream.
"What does it mean?"
"It's the mark of the Ash Covenant." Kestrel's voice was grim. "A secret society that has existed for centuries, dedicated to bringing about the fall of the barrier."
"Why would anyone want that?"
"Because the Ash Covenant believes that the barrier is unnatural—that it traps the world in stasis, preventing the natural cycle of destruction and rebirth." He leaned back in his chair, his golden eyes distant. "They see the Voidwalkers not as enemies, but as agents of necessary change. Agents who will cleanse the world of its corruption."
"That's insane."
"It is. But belief doesn't have to be rational to be dangerous." He gestured to the other objects on the table. "We found traces of a poison on the assassin's blade—a substance called voidbane, derived from plants that grow only in the blighted lands beyond the barrier. It's lethal to dragons and Dragonbound alike."
"So the assassin was sent by the Ash Covenant. But how did they get into the Citadel? How did they know where to find me?"
"That's what troubles me." Kestrel's expression darkened. "The Citadel's defenses are formidable. No one enters without authorization, and the patrols are designed to catch any intruder. Which means..."
"Someone on the inside helped them." Seraphina felt a chill run down her spine. "There's a traitor among the Dragon Lords."
"Or among their servants. Or among the riders." Kestrel stood and began pacing the small room. "I've reported my findings to the Queen, but she has ordered me to keep this information quiet until we can identify the traitor."
"And in the meantime?"
"In the meantime, you continue your training. You act as if nothing has changed." He stopped pacing and looked at her. "But you also watch. And listen. Because the traitor may reveal themselves through carelessness—or through desperation."
Seraphina thought about this as she made her way back through the corridors. A traitor among the Dragon Lords—that was a terrifying thought. These were the people who were supposed to protect the world, who had sworn oaths to defend the barrier. If one of them had been compromised, then no one could be trusted.
Even Kestrel?
She pushed the thought away. Kestrel had saved her life, had trained her, had believed in her when no one else had. He couldn't be the traitor. He couldn't.
Could he?
Through the bond, she felt Pyre's concern—a gentle inquiry about her state of mind. The dragon had been more protective than ever since the assassination attempt, rarely leaving her side.
I'm fine, Seraphina responded. Just... thinking.
About the traitor?
How did you—
I feel your thoughts, little flame. Your suspicions. Your fears. Pyre's consciousness wrapped around hers, warm and reassuring. Trust your instincts, but don't let them consume you. Paralysis serves no one.
Seraphina nodded, even though she knew Pyre couldn't see her. She would trust her instincts—and she would watch.
The next several days passed in a blur of training and observation. Seraphina studied everyone she encountered, looking for signs of betrayal—a furtive glance, a whispered conversation, anything that might indicate divided loyalties. But the Dragon Lords and their servants went about their business with the same efficiency they always had, and she found nothing.
Until the fifth day.
She was in the Archives, researching ancient texts about the Voidwalkers, when she heard voices from the adjacent reading room. The speakers were hushed, barely audible, but something in their tone made her pause.
"—the girl is progressing faster than expected. If she's allowed to complete her training—"
"She won't be. The next attempt will succeed."
Seraphina's heart pounded. She moved silently to the door between the rooms, pressing her ear against the wood.
"You're certain? The last assassin failed spectacularly. The Queen's guard is doubled, and that dragon of hers—"
"Will be dealt with. Trust me, I have friends in places you can't imagine."
Silence. Then footsteps, moving away. Seraphina waited until she was sure the speakers had gone, then slipped into the adjacent room.
It was empty. But on the table where the conversation had taken place, there was a piece of paper—a note, hastily scrawled and abandoned.
She picked it up, her hands trembling.
The Conjunction approaches. The barrier weakens. The Dragonbound must fall before the appointed time, or all our work will be for nothing. Trust only those who bear the mark of the Covenant.
Below the words was the same twisted dragon symbol she had seen on the assassin's ring.
The Ash Covenant.
Someone within the Citadel was working with them. Someone close enough to know about her training, her progress, her bond with Pyre. And they were planning another attempt on her life.
She had to warn Kestrel. She had to warn the Queen.
But as she turned to leave, she caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of her eye—a shadow in the doorway, watching her. When she looked more closely, it was gone.
Someone had seen her find the note. Someone who knew she was getting too close to the truth.
The game had changed. And now, Seraphina was hunting as well as being hunted.