Chapter 69 A Spell Too Weak

• The road back to the castle was long, winding through the hills still scorched from the battle. The fires had died out, but the scent of ash clung to the wind, mingling with the scent of sweat, blood, and something sweeter—relief.
• Espen rode beside Mikko, her dragon a silent sentinel overhead. Around them, the remnants of their forces marched. Some wounded. Some laughing. All exhausted.
• “You realize,” she muttered, brushing a strand of hair off her face, “this is the third time in a row I’ve saved your life.”