Page 39 of Queen of Legends and Lies (Dragons of Tirene #4)

A shimmering dome of wind swirls high above them, forming a barrier that stretches from wall to wall. A protective canopy between the wings of the palace and the walls that prevented most of the drachen from landing.

A huge undertaking.

I’ve never seen something that large before, not created from wind.

Their postures are strained, and they tremble as they pour all their strength into maintaining the shield.

Then I notice the shadows. Shade covers the majority of the open courtyard as far as my enhanced vision can see. The thick swarm of drachen—roiling, merging, and separating again—blots out the sun.

My heart sinks as I realize the terrible choice the air users below face.

To reposition the barrier or fight the drachen already within the city, they’ll have to drop the protection for a few crucial seconds.

Then the waiting horde will attack.

Unless we wipe out the airborne drachen first.

All of them.

I scan the chaotic tangle of wings and claws and magic. Dragons grapple with drachen, their scales flashing in the sunlight as they twist and snap at their foes.

Streams of dragonfire destroy everything they touch.

Winged guards dash between the flames, blades flashing as they seek to tip the balance in our favor.

But the drachen are everywhere. A seething mass of darkness that obscures the sky. Our forces are hopelessly entangled with them, dragons and flying soldiers darting in and out of the fray.

We have no clear line of attack. No way to strike at our enemies without risking our own people.

Sterling and I hang back for a moment, unleashing torrents of fire and ice into the melee. The drachen shriek as our magic sears and freezes them, but they reform almost as quickly as we weaken them.

It’s like trying to beat back the tide with a broom.

A flicker of movement catches my eye. Terror races up my spine.

Agnar is surrounded. Dozens of drachen close in from all sides as he hurls the last of his stone ammunition. His face is set in grim lines, but I can read the desperation in his stance.

No. I won’t lose another friend. Not today.

I pivot toward Sterling, a plan crystallizing in my mind. A reckless, impossible plan, but it’s all we have. “We have to merge again. It’s the only way to stop them all at once.”

“It’s still unstable.” His furrowed brow smooths over as his eyes meet mine. “We’ve been training all day, Lark. We could burn out.”

“We don’t have a choice.” Despair hoarsens my voice. “If we don’t try, more people will die.”

Indecision wavers on his features for all of a second before he nods. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

As our hands meet and our powers begin to flow together once more, I send up a silent prayer to whatever deity deigns to listen.

In a dizzying rush of heat and cold, the merged magic surges through me. I grit my teeth, fighting to maintain control as the energies war within. Unleashing it all in one devastating blast would be so much easier. But that maelstrom would consume friend and foe alike.

Which is why I can’t let that happen. Not after everything we’ve fought for.

Despite Sterling’s unwavering faith in me, I don’t actually have a solid strategy.

I only know what not to do. “We have to separate them. Drive the drachen back and give our side room to maneuver.”

He nods, his jaw tight. “I’m on it.” Sterling’s voice rises above the chaos, a deep boom that shakes the very air. “Air forces, disengage! Range attacks only. Ground forces, stand steady.”

The battle freezes as all eyes settle on Sterling.

For a split second, I’m in awe of him. His complete faith in me. His love for this kingdom. The way people obey him without question.

Then, with a precision that speaks of long hours of training, the three dozen or so Tirene forces break away, soaring to the east and south to regroup beyond the reach of tooth and claw. His squad, several showing jagged wounds, are the first to react.

As one, the drachen lurch forward in a wave of malevolent hunger.

Sterling barks out his next command. “Flank the dragons! Don’t get in their way!”

The soldiers fly to obey, falling into formation with the speed and confidence of a well-oiled machine.

Streams of dragonfire blast through the air, with the Tirene guards safely at the sides. The elemental magic creates kill zones. Drachen falter, trapped between the retreating Tirenese and the wall of dragons.

For a precious instant, they’re clustered together, a seething knot of darkness against the pale sky.

Dirt and stones form cages and spikes to slow them. Fire blasts through, melting and burning them. Water surrounds individual drachen, preventing them from merging into larger forms. Winds toss them around, keeping them in a tight kill zone.

In the midst of it all, dragons spew out blasts of lethal flames.

It’s now or never.

Below, several air wielders have collapsed, too drained to keep standing. In their midst, Alannah is a pillar of strength.

Gesturing to Sterling, I reach for the power that thrums through my veins. “Now!”

The searing cold and blistering heat merge into something new and terrible.

I fix my gaze on the enemy line and unleash the maelstrom within. Fire and ice, intertwined in a deadly dance, batter the drachen from every angle. The air shimmers with the force of our combined elements.

Heat sears my lungs with every breath.

A sudden shout from Sterling pierces through the chaos, yanking my attention to him. “Lark! Remember what I told you about my early training days?” He sends a burst of ice magic at a drachen, freezing it in place. “When I tried to freeze that pot over the fire and it just…shattered?”

Understanding crashes over me. “The temperature shock makes things brittle. Of course!”

Sterling flashes me a bright, fierce grin. “Exactly. Let’s give these bastards a taste of their own medicine. They like to break us. Well, it’s time for us to break them.”

I’m already gathering our power, focusing it inward until I might burst from the force. With a mighty yell, I unleash a massive blast of cold, directing it at the drachen with every ounce of my will.

The effect is instantaneous.

They freeze solid, their amorphous bodies crystallizing into jagged sculptures of ice. For a split second, everything seems to hang suspended, the battle raging around us fading into insignificance.

Then I let loose with the heat I’ve been holding back, a searing inferno that rushes outward from my core. Magic slams into the frozen drachen with cataclysmic results.

They shatter.

Literally explode.

Crack into a thousand glittering shards that rain down upon the palace grounds like dark hail.

The ones that survive the initial onslaught are quickly dispatched by the guards and dragons, their weakened forms no match for steel and flame.

Just to make certain there’s no drachen about to reform and attack, I send another wall of fire across the sky, seeking out every piece left and reducing whatever I find to ash.

For a moment, I hover, heart pounding against my ribs as I survey the aftermath. Below, I catch sight of Alannah huddled on the ground and Rhiann and Agnar crouched on the balconies as debris rains down.

The air swirls in a vortex of heat and cold. After destroying the delicate balance of Alannah’s barrier, our magic pours around us.

Somehow, against all odds, that shield held long enough to protect the palace.

Long enough for us to win.

This time.

Even as relief washes over me, though, a chill runs down my spine. The drachen are becoming more powerful. There’s no denying that. They’re drawing strength from some unseen source, growing more formidable with each passing day.

The God of Nightmares. Narc.

And if we don’t find a way to stop him soon…I fear that next time, even our most desperate efforts won’t be enough.