Prologue

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Silver Vale
29th Fledgling Month, 793 Cloud Era

WIND RATTLED THE balcony doors, tugging Mhysra from her sleep. Groaning, she rolled over, ignoring the scrape of tree branches against the glass.

Until she remembered that there weren't any trees on the balcony or even close to this side of the house.

The door rattled again, the tapping turning into a definite and decisive knock. "Open up, Mhysra, I can see you're awake," a familiar voice called through the glass.

She groaned again and pulled a pillow over her head. "It's your turn," she grumbled, to the man lying next to her.

He chuckled. "It's your Wingborn."

Hitting her useless husband with the pillow, Mhysra sat up and reached for her walking stick. It took a moment to shuffle her way to the edge of their enormous bed, but with her feet on the floor, she looked up – and gasped.

"Lyrai!"

Hearing the urgency in her tone, Lyrai sat up. "What is it? Is there something wrong with Cue? Is it Hurricane?"

"No." Mhysra stood up, cursing her sleep stiffness and old injury as she hobbled her way across the floor towards the balcony, and the giant eagle miryhls waiting beyond. "It's Zephyr. She must have come from Derry."

It was Lyrai's turn to curse as he fought his way free from the mound of blankets. They reached the door at the same moment, thrusting it open to let in the warm summer air.

"Have you found her?" Lyrai asked, before the visiting miryhl could even open her beak.

Ruffling her feathers, Zephyr nodded. "Yes, we've found her."

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