Page 37 of Crown of Betrayal and Blood (Dragons of Tirene #3)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

After some much needed sleep, I dress in a tunic and trousers and follow the corridors to check on Leesa. She’s already awake and dressed, sitting at a small table by the window with Bastian, sipping on tea. Relief washes over me when she greets me, because she’s not the same person as she was last night. Though shadows darken the skin beneath her eyes like purple bruises and guilt dims the usual brightness of her smile, her spine is straight and when I examine her face, I see my childhood companion reflecting back at me.

My sister has pulled herself together in typical Leesa Axton fashion, not that I expected anything less.

She’s always possessed strength of will and courage to spare. Leesa’s a survivor. She’ll get through this, especially with Bastian, Agnar, and me to lean on.

When I inform her and Bastian of my plans to travel to Aclaris, they both insist on accompanying me. Though her magic won’t be of much assistance without eyril, Leesa knows the ins and outs of Flighthaven better than I do.

While some of the royal council members are less than thrilled about our plan to rescue Sterling, I thankfully don’t have to answer to them. The queen has sanctioned our mission, and that’s all that matters.

Preparing for the journey is a whirlwind.

We spend the day discussing strategies, gathering weapons and supplies, and attempting to rest. I’m too keyed up to get much sleep, and by the time evening rolls around, I’m rearing to go.

Leesa flies on Kaida since the two are familiar with each other, and Agnar rides Tanwen. The large green dragon has a special bond with Sterling, and if we’re able to pull off the mission, Sterling will be flying back with Tanwen and Agnar.

Bastian and I choose Chirean and Dame, or more accurately, they choose us. I figured at least one of them would stay behind to guard their eggs, but they both insisted. I have no doubt they assigned more than one formidable dragon to protect their precious babies in their stead.

By the time we leave, the sun has begun its slow climb into the horizon, casting a warm glow across the landscape. The wind whistles in my ears as I cling to Dame’s back, her powerful wings beating the sky.

We cover most of the distance in silence, each of us lost in our own heads. Every so often, I cast furtive glances at Leesa. More than once, I catch Bastian and even Agnar doing the same. She seems to be okay, and I don’t sense any turmoil from Kaida. If everything goes to hells and Leesa has a meltdown, I have no doubt Bastian will keep her safe.

I hope it won’t come to that, but better to mentally prepare for the worst possibilities than get caught off guard. Surrounding myself with people I trust with my life provides more than a little reassurance. No matter what happens on this mission, at least I know I’m not alone.

As we near Flighthaven, we fly low, skimming over treetops in an attempt to avoid detection. Unfortunately, the sickly foliage often renders stealth difficult. The decay I noticed killing the greenery the last time I was at Flighthaven has spread like a swarm of grazer beetles, leaving behind a trail of rotting trunks and naked, spindly branches.

Luckily, we don’t encounter or spot a single dragon or alicorn on our way to the campus. The oddity of that fact stirs discontent in my gut, not that I’m complaining.

Although I’d love to see Zephyr again one day, I hope my old mount is off flying free and nowhere near this shit show. And while I can’t predict the exact type of shit show we’re about to walk in on, I do know one thing. The fewer people we run into, the better.

The cool morning air whips around us as our dragons lower toward the ground. We approach a dense forest that marks the eastern edge of Flighthaven. Beyond it lies our destination. We’ll leave the dragons here and venture through the woods on foot.

I turn to Agnar on my left, motioning with my hands that Dame is about to land. I don’t dare shout over the wind so he can hear me. Not when patrols could be nearby.

Agnar nods, then relays the silent message to Bastian and Leesa behind us.

Adrenaline pulses through me as Dame descends, her massive wings quiet as she glides toward the ground. As soon as she touches down, she extends her foreleg so I can climb down.

The other dragons land around us, and after everyone dismounts, we run through the plan one more time.

Find the harvested eyril stores and destroy them.

Free the dragons.

Locate Sterling and heal his corruption.

Get the hells out of here with everyone still in one piece.

As if to remind me of the importance of the first part of our mission, a soft breeze sweeps over us, carrying the sickly-sweet stench of rot. My nose burns, and I quickly whip my head away and swallow to stop myself from dry heaving.

Leesa gags too.

Bastian frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“Can’t you smell the tainted eyril? It’s foul.”

Agnar and Bastian both sniff the air. Agnar shrugs. “I don’t smell anything alarming.”

A crease forms on my brother’s brow. “Me either. You’ve always been sensitive to it, though, right? Maybe because of the dragon’s blood they use to grow it?”

“Yeah.” I breathe through my mouth, just in case. “Either I forgot how bad it smelled when concentrated like this, or it’s even worse now. But dragoncaller heritage doesn’t explain why Leesa’s so affected.”

Leesa wrinkles her nose. “I never was before. I think it may be an aftereffect of the corruption.” When all three of us stare at her with rising alarm, she holds up her hands. “I’m okay. Apart from that, I feel completely like myself. The second I don’t, I promise to let someone know so you can tie me up and plop me in front of the dragons to guard.”

We did bring rope for exactly that purpose. Just in case. Hopefully, we won’t need to put it to use. “You sure you’re okay with your assignment? We can always try to switch things around.”

Lessa’s head shake is adamant. “I’ve got this, I swear.”

Bastian and I exchange glances before he dips his chin. He and Leesa are on destroy-the-eyril duty, and I’m on liberating-the-dragons duty. Agnar isn’t fond of me facing down at least a dozen drugged, angry dragons, and to be honest, I’m not either. But I’ve gone head-to-head with them before and even freed two from the rot afflicting their brains. Never several at the same time though. And if things go south, there’s no sense in us both getting incinerated.

Once I’ve finished my task, hopefully Agnar will have located Sterling.

Eventually, we’ll have to find a way to hunt down and destroy all of the drachen. But that’s not today’s problem.

I pat Dame’s scaly cheek, then address the group again. “Everyone ready?”

“Ready to get this over with.” Leesa grabs me and pulls me into a tight hug. “Don’t get yourself killed. I’ll be pissed if you do.”

I grin. “I’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about. You sure you’re up to this after everything?”

She pulls back, face softening. “Yep. Thanks to you. The eyril I took days ago should be out of my system, so even if I do cross paths with a drachen, there won’t be a repeat.”

Our trek through the woods is silent. No one wants to risk alerting anyone of our presence.

Shadows stretch across the ground, making our path difficult to discern. We move cautiously, staying close and listening for any signs of danger.

After an hour of creeping through trees and underbrush, freezing up each time we hear a bird trill or leaves rustle in the breeze, we finally reach the edge of Flighthaven. We slink over to a patch of wall near a less populated part of campus and quicky fly over the top, with Bastian carrying Leesa.

Sunlight bathes the familiar buildings and paths of the eerily still campus.

No guards patrolling. No students headed to class. No one participating in training exercises.

Nothing.

I don’t know what I expected, but the eerie silence and not a single sign of life isn’t it.

My heart pounds and sweat beads on my forehead. Memories of my time in this place assault me, both good and bad.

Olive, greeting me with a friendly smile in the cafeteria that first day, helping me feel less alone while everyone else sitting at the long tables whispered and gawked.

Helene, offering me vanilla custard as a supposed olive branch and watching as the icy toxin she added choked the air from my lungs.

Helene later, justifying her actions in that superior way of hers by claiming that she secretly dated my sister and knew Leesa believed Flighthaven was dangerous for me and would have wanted Helene to keep me away.

The attack in the showers, where a small group of students threw a sack over my head and stranded me on top of a tower with an alicorn to prove I was too terrified to fly one. And then my rescue by a certain grumpy instructor as I started to climb my way down in the rain. The fierce need he ignited inside me when he pressed my body to his on the ride down. How he returned that desire once we landed, his glittering eyes raking over the rain-soaked nightgown clinging to my curves.

We came so close to kissing that night, but we both resisted the pull.

In the end, our fight proved futile. The attraction between us was so strong that I don’t think any power in this world could have kept us apart.

Except maybe the corruption.

Despair floods me, sinking into my heart and choking my lungs until I’m gasping for air. I double over, bracing my hands on my knees as I struggle to breathe.

A soothing, familiar hand rubs my back. “It’s going to be okay, Lark. Just count your breaths in and out and focus on what you can feel and hear.”

I nod and attempt to follow my sister’s instructions. I feel the pressure of her hand. The solid ground beneath my boots. The temperate breeze caressing my cheek and rustling the tendril of hair that escaped my braid.

I hear Agnar and Bastian’s hushed conversation. Leesa’s soft voice as she counts breaths. A bird cawing somewhere in the distance.

With one last quiver, I rise and shake out my arms. “Just a teensy little panic attack. Nothing to worry about. I’m good now. I can do this.”

Agnar squeezes my upper arm. “We know you can.”

Bastian and Leesa both nod, and their quiet belief in me helps straighten my spine.

I’ll get my prince back. One way or the other.

With whispers of “good luck” and variations of “don’t you dare get yourself fucking killed or I’ll hunt you down and kill you again myself,” we split up. Leesa and Bastian head for the building that houses the eyril, and Agnar follows me.

I keep my voice low. “What happened to you looking for Sterling?”

“I am looking for Sterling. It just so happens I’m walking with you while doing it.”

I almost snort before remembering we have to be quiet. “I doubt you’re going to find him in plain sight in the middle of campus.”

“Crazier things have happened.” He shrugs. “But I need to check every inch of Flighthaven before searching elsewhere. So I might as well walk with you for a bit.”

“You sure you’re not just being overprotective?”

Agnar’s lips curve into a grin. “After some of the situations you’ve found yourself in, someone needs to be overprotective of you.”

I incline my head. “Fair point.”

We slink along one of the two massive rings of formidable stone buildings that form the outskirts of Flighthaven as early morning light illuminates the campus.

A twig snaps somewhere behind us. In the blink of an eye, Agnar yanks me behind a building.

My heart thunders as heavy footsteps approach.

Several pairs, by the sounds of things.

No. More than several. Many, many pairs.

Meeting Agnar’s gaze, I mouth a silent Thank you . He nods. Moving like a cat stalking its prey, he inches toward the edge of the building.

When he glances around the corner, his body goes rigid. Peering over his shoulder with one finger to his lips, he motions for me to join him.

Agnar adjusts his position so I can look at the same time.

Hands against the rough stone wall, I ease around the edge and peek at whatever’s causing the commotion.

My heart freezes mid-beat.

Hundreds of people march in a single-file line, armed to the teeth with various weapons. Black, void-like eyes stare out from empty faces.

The army consists of every instructor, fledgling, and soldier at Flighthaven…all of them corrupted.

If they catch us, we’re fucked.

Hells, let’s be real. We’re already fucked, because even the biggest optimist in all the lands would agree that there’s no way four of us can take on an army of corrupted and expect to survive.

I watch the unnerving scene before me in rapt horror, unable to rip my gaze away. Their movements are mechanical, their faces devoid of emotion like their minds and bodies aren’t their own.

My horror reaches a whole new level when I catch sight of sandy-blond hair.

Theo Everheart marches along with the rest of the corrupted, the twinkle in his once bright blue eyes gone. No easy grin reveals his dimples. My former friend is rigid. Emotionless. Nothing like the playful guy who swiped food from Olive’s tray when she wasn’t looking and winked at me as he gobbled it down.

Farther down the line, I spot another familiar face. Abel Rummon from my flight unit. A scruffy beard covers his normally smooth ebony jaw.

My heart clenches. I didn’t realize how much I missed them both until now, yet the sight of them, rather than instilling me with joy, causes a giant pit to open up in my gut.

A small, pessimistic part of me is thankful that Olive doesn’t have to suffer through this. That her death was quick and painless when the rogue dragon at the trial incinerated her in mere seconds.

Another part of me aches for my friends who are still alive. Who are being forced to do gods know what manner of horrible things that they’ll regret later. If they survive.

And where is Nick Pendrick, the other fledgling from my unit? Did he somehow escape and return home to his family? Or is he somewhere among the corrupted?

Or even worse…dead?

I swallow the lump in my throat. I want to go to them, to heal my friends—hells, even my enemies—from their corruption. But there are countless corrupted people out there, and only two of us. We’d never survive those odds.

I dig my nails into my palms, using the sting of pain to center myself. “This is…” No words can adequately describe this situation.

“Creepy as fuck?”

“Yeah. There are people I know out there. Friends. Members of my flight unit.”

“Want to know what else is creepy as fuck? Seeing you again. Alive.” Every muscle in my body tenses when I hear that deep, condescending voice. “Both of you turn around slowly with your hands in the air, or I’ll slit your godsdamned throats.”

Panic coils in my gut like a snake ready to strike as I comply and swivel toward my former nemesis, Elijah Durand.

We are officially screwed.

* * *

If I had to list the top ten people I hoped I’d never see again, Elijah Durand would be right up there toward the top.

And that’s who I come face-to-face with when Agnar and I turn around.

The guy is massive, with muscular arms, thick brown hair, and a disgusted scowl he seems to reserve just for me. He looks me up and down while gripping a sword with a wickedly curved blade.

I fight the urge to cringe under his scrutiny. Elijah may have been Flighthaven’s biggest asshole when I attended the academy, but I’ve faced more formidable enemies than him since then. And I refuse to cower.

My gaze shoots to his eyes, and shock zips through me.

They’re as cold as ever, but his irises are brown, not black. “You’re not…you’re not corrupted.”

“No shit. And you’re not supposed to be here.” As he scrutinizes Agnar, I can practically feel the soldier bristle beside me. “This another one of your Tirenese lovers?”

“I didn’t come here for my health, jackass.” I narrow my eyes at the fledgling who took hazing to a near deadly level. “He’s a friend.”

“A friend who’s going to give you to the count of three to get that blade out of our faces.” Agnar flashes him a cold smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “One. Two…”

Before he reaches three, roots burst from the ground between us and wind around Elijah’s body. From one breath to the next, he’s covered from boots to shoulders.

Elijah blanches as his weapon drops to the dirt with a thud. “What the fuck? I was going to drop it!”

“My apologies.” The predatory gleam on Agnar’s face tells me he’s not in the slightest bit sorry. “Guess I misjudged your intentions.”

Under any other circumstances, I’d relish seeing Elijah restrained, helpless, and looking scared enough to shit himself. At the moment, though, we’re low on allies. And as unappealing as partnering with my former bully is, with the vast numbers of corrupted swarming the campus, beggars can’t be choosers.

“Okay,” I hold up a hand, “let’s save the pissing match for later, shall we? We don’t have time for this.”

Elijah glares. “Get these off me.”

Agnar’s lips kick up in a lazy grin. “Only if you promise to play nice.”

When Elijah says nothing, roots wind up his neck and squeeze.

The fledgling’s face flushes red, and his eyes bulge. “All right, you fucker,” he wheezes.

Even under duress, the guy can’t help but be a dick.

At the flick of Agnar’s wrist, the roots sink back into the ground. Dirt swirls and covers them as if they never appeared. He cups his hand to his ear. “What was that? I was having trouble hearing you.”

“I’ll play nice.” Elijah grits out the words like they’re painful to say, then rubs his throat and mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like Crazy winged cocksucker .

“Look,” I glance around to ensure no one else is sneaking up on us, “everything going on here is bigger than us, so for once, can we put aside our differences? I’d really like to make it out of here alive.”

He glares at me as if he’d like nothing better than to skewer me with a sword but manages to mumble, “okay.” He’s silent for another beat, then sighs. “Why are you here?”

“We’re here to find Instructor Thorne.” When Elijah scoffs and raises an eyebrow, I hurry to correct myself. “Also known as Knox Barda, prince of Tirene.” And future king , I don’t add. “He’s been corrupted, and we think he may be here. Or at least somewhere in Aclaris. How are you not corrupted, by the way?”

“The short version?” After glancing around, Elijah lowers his voice. “We had an assembly. Xenon came and talked about an imminent threat. Told us we needed to line up by unit. We followed him and his guards to one of the training rooms.” His throat bobs as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. For maybe the first time ever, I think I’m witnessing Elijah Durand experience an attack of nerves. “The first unit was handed vials of eyril before they went in, and two of the fledglings didn’t come back out of the room.”

Cold dread crawls down my spine. “What do you mean ‘didn’t come back out?’”

He scowls. “What the fuck do you think? Didn’t come out as in, they were killed. I don’t know why. The others returned disoriented. Strange. Students and instructors started to panic, and then it descended into sheer chaos. Soldiers surrounded us, dragging people into the room. These disgusting black blob motherfuckers with freaky as hells tendrils oozed out, which was my cue to get the fuck out of there. I think some people escaped, but Helene’s the only one I?—”

I cut in. “Helene Mortimer?” My jaw drops. “She’s here? She’s okay?”

“The one and only.” Amusement flickers across his face. “We’ve been hiding out. Spying on people and those…creatures. Trying to see what Xenon’s plan is and what we’re up against. We obviously can’t take eyril, so not even having enough power to hurt a mouse sucks.”

Agnar crosses his arms. “Explains that wicked blade. Looks like it could slice through someone’s neck like butter.”

Elijah shrugs one shoulder. “You’d be surprised how handy it’s been.”

I wrinkle my nose. “That’s not disturbing at all.”

“It’s survival, sweetheart,” Elijah deadpans. “It’s not like I kill my classmates and instructors for shits and giggles.”

Given how much Elijah hated me during my time here, that statement is debatable. I lift my eyebrows to convey my doubt. “Yeah, well, speaking of classmates, where is Helene?”

“Probably still in the library, trying to find information about these things.”

“Drachen.” I toy with the end of my braid. “That’s what they’re called. And they use fear to sort of…enthrall people. Taking eyril after an encounter with a drachen activates the corruption. Although, according to what you said, taking eyril right before works, too, so maybe it’s a matter of timing. Eventually, your eyes become solid black, with no visible pupils, and you become a puppet for those disgusting black blob motherfuckers .”

“That’s messed up.” Elijah scrunches his brow. “Do I even want to ask how you seem to know everything about these drachen, as you call them? Though I think my name for them is better.”

That may be one of the only things Elijah and I have ever agreed on.

“Probably not.” I exchange a grim glance with Agnar. “And I wasn’t kidding when I said we need to find Ster…um, Prince Knox. I know a way to cure the corruption, but I can’t do so en masse. We need to find him, cure him, and get him back to Tirene, so that we can regroup and figure out what to do next.”

The look he gives me is dubious.

“She’s telling the truth. And we’ve wasted enough time already.” Agnar runs an idle finger over the hilt of his sword. “So what do you say? Are you with us?”

Elijah peers upward and heaves a sigh. “Looks like that’s the only option I’ve got.”

“That’s the spirit.” Agnar claps him on the back hard enough to make Elijah stumble and flashes him a shit-eating grin. “I knew I liked you.”

Yeah, well, that makes one of us.

I roll my eyes. “Now that this little bonding session is over, can we do what we came here to do?”

“Yeah. I’m ready to fuck shit up.” A genuine smile flickers across Elijah’s face for a split second as he picks up his deadly weapon, sheathes it, and nods. “So what’s the plan?”