Apollyon’s eyes were locked to the skies even as the mountain breeze ruffled his feathers. His flames flickered and danced in it. He’d caught glimpses of the mercenary, Kovaithe, flying overhead a few times, and he was hoping that he’d spot her again today. This time he was ready. He was nearly certain she’d not spared him a second glance before, but this time he’d make sure she noticed him. He’d spent all morning preening, gathered up his best shinies,...