Page 12 of Queen of Legends and Lies (Dragons of Tirene #4)

Chapter Ten

In the cool night air, we glide over an inky black sea that stretches endlessly beneath us.

After some time passes, water becomes land again. On the backs of dragons, we peer down at sandy beaches that quickly change to open fields, which morph into craggy mountains. So far, we haven’t spotted any suspicious activity. No docked boats. No armies on foot, corrupted or otherwise. No drachen.

So, we keep flying.

There’s no need for words or any kind of signaling. My abilities allow me to feel everything my dragons feel. Despite his wariness, Mygist returned, and his eagerness and alertness bubbles inside me.

I grip his ridged back tighter. Even in the dark, the land below is breathtaking.

“Nothing yet. Let’s fly a little farther north,” Agnar calls out from Kaida’s back, his voice cutting across the sky. The black and blue dragon blends into the night sky nearly as well as Mygist does with his solid black scales.

Both dragons sense the promise of battle, their instincts roaring as loud as the rush of wind under their wings. Kaida snorts a puff of steam into the chilled air, and I catch his excitement.

Mygist simply wants to kill as many Aclarians as possible. Revenge for his long captivity.

“Easy, boys.” I pull on the mental reins we share, projecting my emotions so the dragons are clear on my meaning. “Let’s not start a war if we don’t have to. I just to take a peek at what those rumors are all about.”

Their grumpy but compliant agreement rumbles through my skull.

Ahead, the Pass of Chains comes into view. Agnar informs me that the high mountain pass borders the lands of Tír Ríoga, a vast kingdom rich in various gemstones and natural resources. His knowledge of geography never fails to impress me.

We start our descent, slowing as we near a rocky outcropping.

“Perfect spot for a little spy mission.” Agnar offers me a wry grin as he leaps from Kaida’s back, wings flaring wide to cushion his fall.

I pat Mygist’s neck before following my friend down. My boots hit solid ground with little snaps and crackles as they crush the dry grass underfoot.

From here, we could finish walking up to the pass to the steep cliff that leads down to the fertile, life-filled basin below.

But that’s not what we’re here for.

The towns are protected. The local military is stationed there and focused entirely on what lies in front of them, trusting the high cliffs at their backs to protect the rear.

Which is exactly why we think the real danger is coming from the unguarded, desolate landscape behind us.

One thing I can’t quite figure out is why Xenon would bypass Tirene and send corrupted troops here.

He wants me—needs me—to fully resurrect Narc.

Maybe the Aclarian king is simply biding his time as he grows his armies.

Tirene may be an island, but our people are fierce.

To defeat them, Xenon’s strength will have to lie in numbers.

That’s my two silver coins anyway.

If Xenon’s plotting an attack, his troops will do it as quietly as possible. People can’t be easily forced to drink eyril—an important part of the corruption process—during a battle. So, while the drachen are present, the eyril still has to be introduced somehow.

Which means an ambush.

Several lakes sit at the base of those cliffs. All someone has to do is hurl open barrels of eyril into the water. Then, once the drachen attack, everyone who ingests that water will become corrupted.

No real fighting.

No chance of retreat.

They’d be compromised before they even knew about the assault. And then all those people would join Xenon’s corrupted forces.

I scan the dark terrain, my vision sharper with my wings out. “Think anyone spotted us?”

One of the many perks of being Tirenese—other than the higher tolerance to cold and the ability to fly—is enhanced vision when our wings are unfurled.

From my bag, I pull out a waterskin. I feel as if I haven’t gotten enough to drink since I woke up that first night without Sterling. My mouth is all cottony. In a sure sign of dehydration, I haven’t been sweating either.

“I highly doubt it.” Agnar leans against a boulder. “Dark dragons, dark uniforms, dark night,” he pats the stone he’s resting on, “dark landscape. And we’ve been careful. I think we’d have to set off fireworks for someone to notice us out here.”

“All right.” I settle in beside him, the warmth from his broad-shouldered frame a welcome contrast to the chilling anxiety churning in my gut. “Let’s see if our hunch was right and they do try sneaking in through the back door.”

Agnar nods. “Can you send Kaida and Mygist up so they don’t give away our location?”

I focus on my connection with the dragons, conveying that I want them to stay in the sky and watch for anyone approaching.

Salivating at the thought of getting his revenge on the Aclaris troops, Mygist takes to the sky again, an amused Kaida following him.

We’re already close to the pass, so all we really need to do is stay still and be vigilant. If the invasion happens the way we suspect, they’ll have to come right by us. Hopefully, we’ll be able to see them before they see us.

The stars are out in force tonight, like a million tiny flames licking the edges of the dark sky. I lean back against the same boulder Agnar’s claimed, its jagged surface pressing through my summer jacket, and let my gaze drift upward.

It’s easier than staring into the abyss below. Easier than facing what’s ahead.

“So, your coronation’s tomorrow morning?” He keeps his voice low, but the sudden sound still startles me.

“Yep.” The word leaves my lips before I can steer my thoughts away from that imminent reality.

I shift uncomfortably. If I had saved Sterling, this wouldn’t even be on my plate. It would be his coronation instead. Or we’d be preparing to rule together. But now, I have to face this alone.

I have to become something I’m not sure I’m ready to be.

“Think we ought to get back?” His tone is light, but I catch the flicker of concern on his face. “You don’t want to be up all night before facing that tomorrow. You’ll be exhausted. And you’ll never live it down if you face-plant during the ceremony.”

I almost snort but remember we have to be quiet. “Nope. But if you just jinxed me, I swear on all the gods I’ll kick your ass.”

He flashes me a wolfish grin. “I’m always down for some sparring. You could certainly use the practice. Though I’m pretty sure I’ll be kicking your ass.”

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes. “Let’s just focus on tonight. I’d rather not think about the coronation looming over my—” A sharp pain flares up on my left bicep, and I stagger back.

“What the hells?” Agnar whirls around, drawing his sword as he scans the darkness. “Bad idea, fuckers.”

There’s no one in sight.

I reach for the quiver strapped across my back and pull an arrow free. The fletching brushes against my fingers, grounding me.

“You all right?” he whispers in my ear, so low I almost miss it.

All I can do is nod, afraid if I speak, I’ll draw more attention. I spin on my heel, every nerve ending on fire as I search for signs of life.

No motion. No noise. Nothing.

We only have two options. Wait for our attackers to reveal themselves or fly and hope our sudden movement doesn’t make us easy targets. Neither option sounds particularly promising.

Back-to-back, we circle slowly, weapons at the ready.

The crunch of leaves has my pulse galloping.

Out of the darkness, a figure emerges.

A woman with stringy hair, tattered clothing, black eyes, and an emotionless face.

“We’ve been looking for you, Dragoncaller.” She steps closer, and a foul stench that reminds me of body odor mixed with garlic breath hits me like a tidal wave. “Xenon wants you alive, but this one? I’m going to relish killing him.”

Agnar eyes the daggers sheathed at her waist, a dry laugh escaping him. “With those? Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s a shitty idea to bring a dagger to a sword fight?”

The next few seconds are a blur as Garlic Breath hurls a dagger at Agnar’s head. He ducks, the miss so narrow that the blade skims his hair.

She smiles, malice in her obsidian eyes. “You were saying?”

The woman reaches for the second dagger. But this time, Agnar’s prepared.

“That wasn’t very nice.” He assumes a fighting stance with his sword raised in the air. “But since I am, I’ll let you have the second strike too.”

Her smile widens, and she throws the knife. It whizzes past his right ear.

Why is the bitch drawing this out when she clearly could’ve embedded the knife in his chest? Is she taunting us? Having a little bit of fun?

She leans down, whipping a third dagger from her boot.

My patience snaps.

Summoning the magic that’s always just below the surface, I hurl a ball of fire at her. The blaze hits her chest, instantly engulfing her body in flames.

She wails in agony. Scorched flesh and acrid smoke envelop us, purging the garlicky odor from my nose. In a matter of seconds, she’s nothing but a pile of ash on a mountain pass.

Guilt niggles at me from burning a person alive. Okay, maybe more than a niggle. But it was life or death, dragon eat dragon.

“Holy fuck . Remind me not to piss you off.” Agnar looks from me to what used to be Garlic Breath then back to me. “I had her, you know.”

“Didn’t look like it from here. She almost took your head off.” I pat him on the cheek. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

His jaw drops, and it takes him a couple of tries to form a coherent sentence.

“Okay, seriously, that was probably the most badass thing I’ve ever seen in my life, and I’ve seen a lot of badass things.

” He flashes me a shit-eating grin. “And thank you. What do you say we get out of here before round two happens?”

“That’s the best idea you’ve had all night.”

“Okay, then. The dragons can…” His eyes widen as he peers beyond me. “Shit.”

I follow his gaze.

And there’s round two.