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Alongside them, winged men and women draw swords. The queen, her eyes reflecting the fiery determination of her ancestors, stands at the forefront. But the forefront draws ever closer to the palace and farther from the shores.

The lands of the non-winged are much larger than Tirene. The sheer amount of soldiers they send to war wears down the Tirenese fighters.

The queen, first friend to the phoenixes and first of the dozens of dragoncallers born from her line, knows what must be done. She issues a heart-wrenching decree.

Phoenixes cannot fall into the hands of these merciless hunters.

They must part ways with their friends and flee their sanctuary.

Long before, the act of a single woman bonded three species into one glorious kingdom.

But on this day, the trinity is split into thirds.

The queen leads her troops into the largest battle with the flightless human invaders to distract them.

Dragons fly north with the phoenixes and their chicks to help them search for new homes.

A much smaller group of dragons heads south. Finding the vale, they destroy all traces that phoenixes were ever kept there.

All signs of their existence must be erased to ensure their survival.

The oldest of the phoenixes wants the story preserved for future generations. In one last act with the Tirenese and their magic users, she beseeches that this tale of sacrifice and unity be etched into memory.

The vision ends as a phoenix feather is plucked and readied for enchantment. It’s entrusted to the dragons heading to the valley, who will protect the legacy of friendship forged by compassion.

Rocky edges bite into my palms as I return to the present, to myself, huddled by the lake with the magical feather now slick with my tears. My chest heaves, each breath a shudder of misery from the vision that grasped me.

“Lark!” Bastian shakes my shoulders. “Please tell me you’re okay.”

The valley floor trembles underneath us, a prelude to the sudden rage that slams into my being. The tempest burns hotter than any fire I’ve ever conjured.

It’s the collective anger of an entire flight of dragons.

“I’m fine. I had a vision,” I gasp out as raw fury floods me. “But something’s wrong with the dragons.”

ChapterThirty

The onslaught of emotion is a raging echo of my own anger and hurt over experiencing a firsthand account of the displaced phoenixes and the Tirenese people’s centuries of sorrow. The knowledge that my kin could have continued leading Tirene into peace and prosperity if not for the actions that stole their throne fuels the downpour of betrayal.

The thieving Bardas claimed countless lives with their greed and jealousy after the Aero family lost their power.

I summon my dampening shield, not so strong it will mute the voices of the dragons, but enough so that I can think for myself without losing myself to their anger. Then I rise to my feet, Bastian’s worried gaze tracking my movements.

A thundering roar shatters the air, shaking leaves from trees.

My eyes snap toward the source even though I can’t spot him.

Cailleach. His patient mind radiates incandescent wrath.

“Come on.” I motion for Bastian to follow as I head up the stream. “We need to get to Cailleach.”

As if answering Cailleach’s call, dragons converge at the valley’s mouth, their scales catching the dying light like a field of gemstones. Their collective emotions crash over me, a tidal wave of hostility and dread.

They smell intruders. Wingless humans. The trespassers creep closer with every heartbeat.

But there’s something else. A foul, disturbing scent that claws at their senses. Every dragon around us is ready to fight, ready to defend their sacred home against this abomination.

These abominations. Several of them.