Page 10 of Queen of Legends and Lies (Dragons of Tirene #4)

Chapter Eight

Unease wraps a fist around my heart and squeezes.

What’s causing the chaos? Is this some new ploy of Xenon’s, of the drachen’s? A distraction? Is it somehow my fault…again?

I leap into the air, wings unfurling with a snap that ricochets off the high spires. With my wings out, my vision sharpens, allowing me to see things I might otherwise miss.

Below, beyond the imposing palace walls of Tirene, streets are ablaze.

Flames lick up facades, devour rooftops, and send plumes of black smoke to join the chaos above.

Inside the palace grounds, it’s no less dire.

Fire grips several outbuildings, tendrils of destruction reaching for the heart of my home.

I circle higher, wary eyes catching pockets of smoke mushrooming from the palace woods. The nightmarish scene sets my heart pounding, not from fear but from a deep-seated need to protect.

The water brigade is swift, already pumping streams onto the flames, assisting the water elementals who can conjure the lifesaving liquid at will.

Some of the homes are lost. Walls are already crumbling, bowing in to crush whatever or whoever’s still inside. My gut clenches with grief for those who called them a haven. All we can do now is stop the decimation.

As the flames rage in the southwestern woods, I drift closer to the fire paddock tucked safely within the central courtyard. Unlike the panicked shouts of the people, the dragons radiate calm.

Their serene faces tilt toward me, their wise eyes seeming to say, “This fire holds no power over us.”

Of course they’re not worried.

It takes more than flames to worry a dragon.

But their calm also leads me to believe no one snuck in to set these fires. They would have had to fly over the walls to do so. And the dragons would’ve noticed.

I spin away from the paddock. Right now, I’ve got a city to save and people looking to me for guidance.

Below, the woods bordering the palace grounds are shrouded in thick choking smoke. My eyes sting, not just from the acrid fumes, but from the devastating sight.

A sudden flash of light catches my attention.

Like a warning beacon, a lone tree ignites. The flames lick upward, hungry for the canopy. They destroy the leaves in mere seconds. The burning corpses fall into the unseen, where they’ll ignite more fires in the underbrush.

A figure bursts from the tree line, racing toward the people passing buckets hand to hand. “Looks like it was smoldering all night.” Soot and sweat coats the man’s face, but his garb marks him as a woodcutter, someone charged with thinning the woods on crown lands. “Then, poof, it just went up.”

I pivot in the air, ready to rally the guards, when my gaze snags on a strange sight. Water, where there should be none, pours along the paths of the courtyard.

Following the current, I spy the source.

The main well in the courtyard, once an unreliable source of fresh water, gushes over its ancient stony rim like a miniature waterfall. It’s spilling out, flooding the cobbles with careless abandon.

A palace guard flies up to me, yelling to be heard over the noise below. “Flooding on the west side. Looks like it has been for a while. The battlement walls might go!”

My heart stutters.

Water and fire, elements clashing with a force that could tear the very stones from beneath our feet. I glance over my shoulder at several guards awaiting orders.

“Spread out!” I point toward the palace. “Search for injured. Assist where you can!”

They nod, peeling away with practiced ease, their loyalty a staunch flame in the tumult. Two of them stay by my side, watching over me.

I descend faster, the heat of responsibility singing through my veins.

“Dammit.” My wings beat hard against the turbulent drafts as I descend. My feet touch down at the edge of the unexpected pool, ripples lapping over my boots. “What in the realms is happening?”

The clamor intensifies as more figures spill into the chaos from every corridor and archway. I spy several people I know.

Bastian, his face twisted with focus, holds the fire of a burning building back while Agnar pulls an elderly man into the middle of the street.

Leesa, her magic weak without eyril, drags a scarf through the flooding water before wrapping it around her head in preparation to help.

Alannah’s form emerges from the crowd, her gait unsteady but determined. For all her quirks, when the world tilts, she is the rock balancing the scales. “Air users, to me.” Her firm voice slices through the frantic throng like a calm breeze.

I wonder if she used her magic to make it so.

Several people leave the swarming crowds and follow her.

I marvel as Alannah reaches the heart of the flooded courtyard and raises her arms.

With graceful movements, she works her magic while guiding the others.

The air stirs, gathers, and solidifies into an invisible conduit. The floodwaters hesitate. Then they rush through the air-made channel, curving and twisting as if delighted by the new course set toward the base of the closest fire.

Using air magic to control water. It’s brilliant.

Though the awed murmurs from onlookers are swallowed by the panic around us, something akin to hope flickers within me.

Until my gaze lands on the cloudy, gray woods.

“Focus on getting that water to the base of the smoke!” Alannah directs the air users who have corralled around her.

New channels form, scooping up standing water and pushing it toward the other fires.

For a few seconds, I’m rooted to the spot as I take in the mayhem. This is beyond my abilities. I have no clue what to do. How to help. How to stop the blaze.

The dowager queen’s eyes find mine. “Lead them. That is your duty. Tell them what to do and make them listen.”

Lead them? How can I lead when I’ve never done anything like this before? What will I tell them? What if they don’t listen?

Get your shit together.

Something snaps inside me, spurring me into action.

“Fire users, hold the flames up so rescuers can get underneath them.” I spin to face the crowds. “Earth users, shore up the walls. Do not let them fall. In town and for the battlements. Water users, keep putting the fires out. You’re doing great.”

I square my shoulders and dive into the thick of it, my boots splashing in puddle after puddle.

The water elementals conjure barriers and wrestle the flood into manageable streams. Alannah’s air-guided river channels the excess away from the palace’s critical points.

It’s a dance of elements, one I’m learning on the fly.

Without words, I relay a request to the dragons. Focusing so my message is clear, I picture the alicorns in the burning stables, then send that image down the collective bond.

Chirean responds first. When I sense his dawning understanding, I breathe a sigh of relief.

Along with Tanwen, Kaida, and Ryu, Chirean steps over the wall of the paddock, careful not to crush any people running about. The stablemaster of the alicorns nearly falls over as the dragons approach, his strong arms covering his head.

Tanwen, amused by the man’s actions, uses his massive clubbed tail to swat at the blazing roof.

Taking a more direct approach, Kaida simply sits on the flaming mound of hay outside the stables to smother it.

Then he starts shooing the spooked alicorns to freedom.

Unbothered by the flames, the other two scoop up trapped and terrified alicorns, tossing them to the safety of the air.

Knowing the dragons have that situation under control, I refocus on the chaos around me.

Alannah gives me an approving nod but keeps her attention on her work.

“Your Highness!” A burly guard pivots toward me, his face smeared with soot. “We need?—”

I see a small figure weaving through the ruckus, blond hair trailing behind her and blue eyes wide with terror.

Little Rose. Agnar’s niece.

What the hells is she doing here?

A brave spitfire on any normal day, Rose is reduced to tears and trembling limbs. She stumbles out of the smoke-filled woods. She’s only six years old, so her wings have not yet formed.

All she can do is run.

“Rose!” Reacting to my fear and need to protect, Kaida shifts his focus to match mine. With two jumps, he’s able to reach her, his claws outstretched.

She looks up, sees him, and without a hint of hesitation, raises her tiny arms.

Taking the utmost care with the small child, Kaida wraps his talons around her and lifts her to safety. Three more hops, and he holds her out to me.

I grab her around the waist while conveying my gratitude to Kaida through our connection.

He chuffs, and I know he understands.

She wraps her tiny body around mine, holding tight while staying out of the way of my wings like all Tirenese children know how to do. Her heart hammers against my chest, her sobs muffled in the fabric of my tunic.

“Shh, it’s okay.” I stroke her hair as her grip tautens around my neck. “You’re safe with me.” A lump forms in my throat.

What was Rose doing out here?

How many people didn’t make it to safety?

And is it merely a coincidence that those woods house Nyc’s temple?