Page 37 of Queen of Legends and Lies (Dragons of Tirene #4)

Chapter Thirty-One

Wind whips through my hair as Dame soars through the sky, her powerful wings carrying me swiftly back toward the palace. Beside me, Sterling rides atop Tanwen, his expression grim. I can feel the unease radiating from all the dragons.

Kaida scans the air behind us, as if checking for pursuers. For some reason, the dragons are still worked up. Ready for attack.

Through our connection, I project soothing reassurances that we’re all right. It was a close call, but the drachen are gone. We escaped unscathed. And with more information than before.

If that fight taught me anything, it’s that knowledge, not strength, will win this war.

As we approach the palace, the sprawling wings and lofty spires come into view. The dragons descend, landing smoothly in the central courtyard. The fire paddock, nestled between the palace wings, awaits their return, and they finally start to calm down.

I climb down Dame’s foreleg, my own legs a little unsteady after that intense fight and hours on a dragon’s back.

Sterling dismounts Tanwen with fluid, practiced movements.

We wait as the three dragons lumber into the paddock, the warm afternoon sun glinting off their scales.

Dame’s reddish-brown coloring gleams, while Kaida’s black body and blue underbelly blend seamlessly with the stone walls.

Tanwen’s dark green stands out, bright in the light and not quite merging with the dark.

Dragontenders rush out, armed with clean water and fresh meat. The dragons prefer to hunt for themselves and often do, but I sense their appreciation for my people’s willingness to supplement their diets.

I turn to Sterling. “We need to call a council meeting. Immediately. They need to know about what Xenon said.”

He nods, his square jaw set with determination. “Agreed. They need to know that we discovered the Palace of the Gods too. Which he seems to be familiar with.”

Hand in hand, we stride through the open side doors of the palace, our footsteps echoing off the marble floors. A guard with a boyish face and tawny hair watches us out of the corner of his eye.

We’ve met before, and I flag him down with a wave. “Please assemble the royal council in the Council Tower, Donovan. As soon as possible.”

The guard bows his head. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

As he pivots to leave, I catch his arm. “One more thing. Wake Eldor Gentry and ask him to join us as well.”

He nods, his eyes widening slightly. “Your grandfather the researcher? Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you.”

He rushes away before I can say anything else.

I glance at Sterling, my heart racing with adrenaline. He squeezes my hand in a subtle gesture of support. In that moment, I draw strength from his presence, from the unwavering loyalty and love that binds us together.

With renewed purpose, I march to the Council Tower and climb the stairs. They hadn’t approved of my idea of searching for the caves, but that isn’t going to stop me from explaining what happened. Or how their decisions won’t hold me back when I know I’m in the right.

Sterling follows close behind, his presence a comforting anchor amid the chaos swirling in my mind. I send a maid scurrying to fetch clean towels, water, and refreshments, knowing we’ll require sustenance for the long evening ahead.

As I settle into a chair at the circular table, I catch Sterling’s trembling hands and notice his face has become a few shades paler than its normal bronze hue.

Without hesitation, I rise and light the fireplace, the flames casting a warm glow across the room.

But it’s not enough. Sterling’s shivering persists, his breath short and ragged.

Using magic for an extended time is draining, but merging powers? It’s utterly exhausting.

I light the second fireplace, determined to banish the chill from his bones.

As the heat envelops us, I reach for a decanter and two crystal glasses, the amber liquid sloshing as I hurriedly fill them.

After handing one to Sterling, I swig my own drink, the alcohol burning a path down my throat and dulling the edges of my frayed nerves without relieving the thirst.

The council members trickle in, their faces etched with annoyance and curiosity. Serle, Fenton, Bron, and Nira sit as their eyes dart between Sterling and me, questions lingering in their gazes. Alannah comes next, escorted by the vicar.

If I were by myself, they’d already be falling all over themselves to interrogate me and give their opinions on everything. Including my clothing.

Eldor enters last, his russet eyes sharp and calculating as he regards the assembled members.

I catch the disapproving glances from some of the council, their apprehension about accepting my grandfather almost palpable. The only one who seems truly unbothered by his presence is Dalya.

And maybe Rafe, which comes as a surprise.

“As you probably know, Eldor is not just my grandfather, but also my master researcher, which is only one of his many skills.” If anyone’s wondering why a master researcher needs to be armed to the teeth with weapons, no one says a word. “His knowledge will be vital to our discussion.”

Eldor’s lips curve into something akin to a smile as he settles into his seat, the firelight and ever-light both glinting on the grays in his dark hair.

I sip more of my drink, and it fortifies my resolve—though I’d give my left arm for some of Alannah’s hydrating tea.

The door swings open once more, revealing Celeste.

Her eyes widen when she sees my rumpled appearance and the dried blood and dirt clinging to my skin. “Oh, Your Highness, I’m so deeply sorry for mentioning the location of the caves. The danger you and the prince faced…I feel terrible.”

Sharing an amused glance with Sterling, I shake my head. “I?—”

She clasps my hand within hers, blond hair cascading over her shoulders like a golden waterfall. “I trusted you could handle it, Lark. You have such grand vision, such untapped powers. If I’d so much as suspected your journey might be perilous…”

I pull my hand back, out of her grasp. The familiar way she’s treating me is starting to get on my nerves. Her words hang in the air like a double-edged sword. On the surface, it sounds like a compliment. However, the implication that I failed subtly undermines my judgment and abilities.

Sterling crosses his arms over his chest, face flat. I know it’s not just because he’s cold.

The council members exchange glances, murmurs of dissent rippling through the room. Celeste’s lips twitch, a flicker of satisfaction in her eyes.

Oh. I see. She’s playing them. Sowing seeds of doubt, creating fractures in our unity. Or is she trying to erode my own confidence?

I drain my glass, the alcohol numbing the tension coiled in my muscles, as Duchess Breann arrives.

Sterling clears his throat, his deep voice cutting through the din. “Tell them where we went and what we found.”

With a smile, I start. “After the last meeting, I ran into Celeste, who knew the location of the caves Hallr mentioned.”

Everyone stares at my former weapons instructor, who wriggles in her seat.

“Thanks to her knowledge, we were able to find and explore them. However, we encountered Xenon. As I discovered on my previous journey to Flighthaven, he’s uncorrupted. Well, he’s still in his right mind. Gray eyes, not black. Still a willing ally of Narc.”

Gasps of disbelief percolate through the council chamber. Moise, Serle, and Nira exchange incredulous looks, their brows furrowed.

“Willing?” Fenton scoffs, his face twisted in a scowl. “Someone under Narc’s sway, who remains uncorrupted? Impossible.”

I lean forward, my fingers interlaced on the polished wood table. “Xenon told me he struck a deal. Narc needed him to fertilize the field, to bring back the drachen. In exchange, the drachen are now under Xenon’s command, to do with as he will.”

The next part tastes bitter on my tongue. “And every time Xenon fertilizes the eyril field with dragon’s blood, Narc grows stronger.”

Though I’m mostly rehashing what I said after my near-death encounter at Flighthaven a couple of weeks ago, more than one face relays disbelief.

Why would I lie about Xenon remaining an uncorrupted and willing ally of Narc?

Moise shifts toward Celeste, eyebrows raised. “As Xenon’s close confidante, did you ever see signs of this unholy alliance?”

Celeste shakes her head, her expression calculated. “I understand why you would think such a thing. Xenon himself said it. But he lies. I never saw any signs he was in league with anything but his own evil.”

Hot, acrid frustration simmers in my veins. She’s deflecting, twisting the truth to suit her own agenda.

I push on, determined to impress the gravity of our situation upon them.

“Xenon also spoke of the chamber where I met him in the caves. A place he called the Palace of the Gods. I have to admit it looked exactly like that. And it was deep underground, accessed by a series of tunnels and caves. According to Xenon, the gods stopped meeting there after a woman named Aero killed Narc.”

Eldor jumps in, his voice low and urgent. “This might explain the strange references I found in some ancient tomes about the gods’ anger toward humans.” He describes the Palace of the Gods, his words painting a vivid picture.

The council members exchange shocked glances, their disbelief morphing into a growing disquiet.

They’re starting to comprehend. Maybe now they’ll get their heads out of their asses.

A glimmer of hope ignites in my chest.

“There’s more.” Eldor keeps his gaze on mine, almost as if he doesn’t care about the council’s opinion of him. “In my research, I also found references to merged magic.”

Celeste’s eyes light up, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

“This only reinforces what Lark and Knox discovered. Despite the danger, their trip to the caves yielded valuable information, however dubious it may seem.” She turns to me.

“And you successfully merged your magic, proving it does work. Now we know for certain that merged magic produces great power. You just need more practice to control it.”

“Yes, the queen and crown prince are powerful indeed.” Fenton’s voice is laced with skepticism.

“But practice? They might burn the whole kingdom down in the process. Then we won’t need the drachen or the corrupted to do the job for us.

” While he might not like what we’re doing, he clearly finds her familiarity inappropriate.

But my grandfather’s comments spark an idea. “So what you’re saying is that merging is how we used to perform our magic? These are the true old ways? I’ve seen ancient magics tied to physical objects that are still functioning. Yet I’ve never heard of such a thing being cast.”

Sterling’s demeanor remains calm and reassuring.

Eldor, though, frowns. “Yes. I found mention of such things in several histories. Including some personal journals of kings past. It was such a normal occurrence among the stronger magic users, they didn’t even bother to explain it.

The same way we wouldn’t explain what a table is. It was just part of everyday life.”

“Perhaps they can practice farther away.” Celeste glances around the table, her blue eyes wide. “That will remove the risk of magical misfires on the palace grounds.”

Vicar Moise inclines his head, wings rustling.

Serle nods with a little too much enthusiasm, his lips curling into a smile. “An excellent idea, Lady Celeste.”

Of course he’d agree. He’s been her number one fan ever since she landed.

The council members murmur in acquiescence, their voices blending into a hum. Celeste’s face lights up with triumph. “You can both start tomorrow.” Turning, she flashes me a placating smile, as if she’s just told a child they can have a sweet.

Swift, hot anger flares within me. Sterling tenses beside me, his disapproval palpable.

Enough.

Before I can even open my mouth to speak, Sterling rises from his seat. “You’re overstepping your role, Celeste.” His clipped words brook no argument. “And you’re being quite rude to the queen .”

Moise clears his throat, his arrogance evident in the set of his shoulders. “Lady Celeste is a foreigner, Your Majesty. She does not understand our ways.”

Alannah’s voice cuts through the growing tension, her tone sharp.

“Her Highness was raised in the same foreign land, Vicar Moise.” She arches a brow, her dark eyes flashing.

“And she has never overstepped so rudely. To tell a monarch what they are or are not allowed to do? Only weeks ago, even the semblance of doing so would’ve ended with an execution.

The late King Jasper, gods rest his soul, never would’ve allowed such an insult to go unaddressed. ”

A ripple goes through the council, some nodding their assent while others all but squirm in their seats. Eldor begins to sharpen his dagger, a hint of wry amusement on his face.

Celeste looks like she’s swallowed a rock. “I meant no offense, Your Majesty.”

Fatigue weighs heavily on my shoulders, the recent events taking their toll. The thirst, ever present since my battle with Xenon, claws at my throat, a persistent reminder of how hard I fought to get free.

I draw in a deep breath, the air in the council chamber suddenly stifling.

“None taken. But let me be clear.” One by one, I lock eyes with every person in the room. “We,” I clasp Sterling’s hand in solidarity, “will continue to do what we believe is right for Tirene, and we won’t hesitate to assist other kingdoms in need. You’re dismissed.”

The following silence is broken only by the rustling of clothes as the council members take their leave.

Sterling lifts my hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to my knuckles. “I’m going to speak with my mother. I’ll see you soon?”

“I won’t be long.” I shift toward Eldor, who’s testing the blade of his dagger. “Can you add the Palace of the Gods and Narc’s death to your list of things to research? I can arrange for scribes to assist you.”

He nods before sheathing his newly sharpened blade. “What the library truly needs is someone to straighten it up, to bring order to the chaos. I’ve started arranging things as I go, but sorting through everything would be a full-time job.”

Unfortunately, we don’t have that kind of time.