Chapter 225: Given Threat

As one the Thirteen flew; as one the Thirteen led the other Skull covens in the skies. Drill after drill, through rain and sun and wind, until they were all tanned and freckled. Even though Abram had yet to make the Crossing, the Spidersilk patching on his wings improved his flying significantly.

It was all going beautifully. Abram had gotten into a brawl for dominance with Lin’s bull and emerged victorious, and after that, none in her coven or any other challenged him. The War Games were fast approaching, and though Iskra hadn’t been any trouble since the night Jane had half killed her, they watched their backs: in the baths, around every dark corner, double-checking every rein and strap before they mounted their wyverns.

Yes, it was all going beautifully, until Jane was summoned to her grandmother’s room.

“Why is it,” her grandmother said by way of greeting, pacing the room, teeth always out, “that I have to hear from gods-damned Cresseida that your runty, useless wyvern hasn’t