Page 3 of Queen of Legends and Lies (Dragons of Tirene #4)

I proceed to recount everything that happened at Flighthaven.

How Narc—the God of Nightmares killed centuries ago and buried under the eyril field—is not actually dead. How his spirit lives on. How Xenon struck a deal with that very spirit, enslaving and drugging the kingdom’s dragons and using their very powerful blood to fertilize the eyril field.

How the blood reacted with the potent plant to reanimate the drachen, the heinous creatures Narc created to enact his plan to eradicate free will from mortals.

How that same blood currently strengthens the malevolent god.

Now all Narc needs is the blood of a dragoncaller to physically return to life.

At least Xenon didn’t succeed in killing me and unleashing the God of Nightmares himself on the world. Then there’d be no hope for Sterling. Or for the hundreds, if not thousands, of corrupted people. Or for all of humanity.

I explain all that, too, and then chronicle how I freed the captive dragons and fought Xenon while Prince Knox held my friends hostage. I narrate how I torched the eyril field in a desperate and ultimately unsuccessful attempt to destroy the drachen.

Finally, I describe how the dragons came to our rescue, and how Nyc, the Goddess of Night and Narc’s mother, appeared to me while I was unconscious. Though she didn’t give me the answers I sought, at the end of her cryptic musings she told me there’s always hope.

Scanning the room, I make eye contact with every person present, one by one. “Somehow, I need to cleanse the land of Narc’s corruption and destroy the drachen. And once I’ve rested and recovered my strength, we’ll figure this out.”

A hush falls over the room. Every probing, doubting eye watches me. Duke Bron, the youngest council member who’s still a few years older than I am, darts glances at the others, waiting to see how they’ll react first.

“Cleanse the land.” Nira scowls and shoves a stray lock of shiny brown hair behind her shoulder. “What does that mean?”

I shift from foot to foot. “I…I’m not sure.” Heat creeps up my neck. I hate not having the answers. “The eyril roots run very deep. Maybe if?—”

“You don’t know.” The vicar twists in his chair, his shoulder-length brown hair falling around his face. “But you still expect to accomplish the task?”

“Perhaps Lark has insight she’s not yet aware of.” Serle’s pale blue eyes meet mine with an anchoring steadiness. He waves his hand as if to coax the words from me. “Something Nyc said to you while you were unconscious that you can’t quite recall?”

I shake my head, exhaustion and defeat pushing down on my shoulders. “No, I’ve told you everything I know.” My words are a whisper, a plea for understanding that I fear won’t come. “And I didn’t go there expecting a fight like that or to encounter Xenon. Next time, I’ll be better prepared.”

Rafe rolls his broad shoulders. “It’s a reckless idea. We cannot move forward until we understand exactly what we’re up against and know how to defeat the drachen.”

What’s this “we” shit? Have any of you ever left the palace to help anyone?

The guild master is not someone I’ve spent time with, and the hint of command in his deep voice rankles me. Yet everyone else agrees with him. Their nods ripple through the room in a wave of disapproval directed at me.

“Vicar Moise, you serve the gods. Do you know of any…ground cleansing ritual?” Breann offers me a tight smile as she directs her question to the only holy man present.

Though I use the word “holy” very loosely.

“I…” The vicar pinches his lips together before grimacing. “I have to admit I’ve never even heard of such a thing. All parts of reality are subject to the gods and goddesses who rule over them. The earth is Terro’s realm. The God of Earth has no cleansing rituals that I am aware of.”

“Then I’ll find one!” I snap, surprising myself with the sharpness of my tone. “I’m trying to find a solution where none seems to exist. Would you rather sit here, idle, while our kingdom crumbles?”

When nothing but silence greets my outburst, I release a shaky breath.

“Lady Lark,” Breann’s voice is laden with a gravity I’m not ready to bear, “you must understand that your coronation is imminent. You will be the heart of Tirene now, its future queen.”

I open my mouth to argue, to insist that Sterling’s life is just as crucial, but she cuts me off.

“Prince Knox may be dear to you, but you’re the one who will rule.

His fate has already been determined.” She folds her pale hands on the edge of the table.

“Though we all hope the crown prince will return to us, we must preserve the heritage of Tirene. For that to happen, there must be a coronation. Which means you must be kept safe.”

Their dismissal of Sterling, the man I love, strikes me harder than any blade could. Maybe I should’ve asked for someone to wake the dowager queen after all. At least she would be on my side.

My chest tightens, and my breath catches as I sink back into my chair.

This situation is even more absurd, considering my own biological family originally ruled over Tirene, and my dragoncaller abilities come from that bloodline.

However, I can’t even claim my rightful last name without upending the accepted history of Tirene under the Barda rule, an act that will surely stir more controversy.

Rafe smirks as though he relishes my discomfort. “After that exciting event,” he drawls with enough sarcasm to drown in, “we’ll address the matter of an invasion by King Xenon.” Every word drips with contempt. Every face says I’m out of my depth.

His barbed words are intended to sting. For some reason, he seems to enjoy tormenting me. Looking down on me.

I meet his gaze, trying to muster the fire that’s earned me my place in this council.

Nira steps in. “And after your defeat at Flighthaven, we can be certain Xenon will retaliate. He’ll come after you.

” She sweeps her hair over her shoulder.

“He’s already mobilized and launched his troops.

So, while those armies are marching toward our gates, you want to go back to the place where you failed to stop said drachen, not a day past? With no new intel or abilities?”

There’s a collective intake of breath at her harsh but sadly practical summation of the matter.

The council stares at me as if I’ve grown two heads, and honestly, I wish I had. Maybe then I’d have some sense of how to deal with this mess.

The chamber is suddenly too small, the air too thick. I can’t breathe with all these eyes boring into me, each gaze loaded with doubt—or worse, pity. My plans, my desperate need to save Sterling and defeat the drachen, it’s all wilting under their scrutiny.

“Your Highness.” Vicar Moise’s hand finds mine on the table.

It’s damp and pasty, like dead leaves soaked by a morning mist. “Your responsibilities are clear. And not one of them involves returning to Aclaris and putting yourself in danger.” The words come out as a command, his green eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that says he expects obedience.

“Absolutely,” Duchess Breann murmurs, while Dalya just offers a curt nod.

Serle gives me a sympathetic glance, as if silently saying it’s okay to let go. If I give him a chance, he might just pat me on my head.

Rafe, though, is another story. His gleaming eyes and smirk are a slap in the face. “See, girl, this is all beyond you.” That’s what his smile says. No words necessary.

They’re aligning before me, forming a solid front with a clear message. They’re the experts. They’ve done this dance of politics and war before.

Me?

I’ve never even led a council meeting.

And the first time I’m attending one, I’ve been firmly put in my place.

“Your coronation will be held in two days’ time, Your Highness.” Serle is all smiles, as if this is a good thing. As if abandoning the man I love is no big deal. “Would you care for more wine?”

I rear back, causing the chair behind me to scrape loudly against the stone floor. My hands shake, and a hot, wild fury builds inside me. It’s the same kind of fury I get when my magic stirs, only there’s no enemy to unleash it upon here. Just this circle of supposed wisdom and guidance.

“No. No more wine. I need to sleep and think.”

With that, I whirl around and storm out. The door thuds shut behind me, a satisfying echo to the tumultuous thoughts swirling inside my head.