Page 44 of Queen of Legends and Lies (Dragons of Tirene #4)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

I stride through the wide palace halls flanked by Sterling and four of my royal guards, including Captain Fitz. The vaulted ceilings loom above us as we venture toward the staircase that leads to the dungeon deep below the palace proper.

At least I know my orders were followed and that sneaky viper Celeste is finally locked up where she belongs. She can’t cause any more trouble from inside a cell.

In the dungeon, the ceiling is much lower.

I remember it all too well from my own stay in these cells.

The stuffy, suffocating air. Rank smells from the old-fashioned chamber pots.

Barely even a bucket. Desperation and misery are soaked into the coarse stone walls and dirt floors.

Along with other things that left stains I’d rather not think about.

But as we approach the heavy iron doors, my steps falter.

The two guards stationed across the hall from the locked room look…wrong.

Their eyes are wide and glassy. Sweat pours down their faces as they stare sightlessly from their posts. Getting closer, I can tell one man is actually drooling, spittle dripping down his chin. The other keeps muttering, clenching his fists, and jerking his head back and forth.

Captain Fitz runs past me, hand on his sword. “What’s going on here? Report!” He puts himself between us and the guards.

Neither guard can form a coherent response, only agitated mumbling and twitching.

Stretching up, I peer over his shoulder while keeping my distance. I’d know those signs anywhere. They’ve taken eyril. And way too much of it. Possibly a lethal amount.

This is bad.

Ignoring Fitz’s warning hand directing me to stay back, I shove past the guards with Sterling at my side. Shock ripples through me when the spaces between the iron bars reveal an empty cell.

Celeste is gone.

My stomach nosedives into my boots. “No, no, no.”

I grip the bars with white knuckles. How could this happen?

Captain Fitz and the three other guards are trying to talk to the drugged men, to get them to respond, but I can’t focus on anything except the horrible realization that she’s escaped.

Sterling pulls me back from the door, hands firm on my shoulders as he spins me around to face him.

His hard, gold-flecked eyes glint with anger. “We’ll find her. She won’t get far.”

I want to believe him, but a sick dread curls in my stomach. Celeste is cunning and ruthless. And now she’s on the loose again.

What new scheme does she have planned?

When I find her, I’m going to send her back to Xenon. One charred piece at a time.

I take a deep breath, pushing down the dread and need for vengeance threatening to overwhelm me. “We have to figure out how Celeste escaped and where she might be headed. But first, let’s see if we can help these guards.”

Sterling nods, his jaw set with determination.

The clank of armor distracts me, and I pivot around to see my guards catching the drugged men as their bodies give way to violent tremors.

Their eyes are wild, and sweat drips down their faces.

It’s only the iron grips of the four royal guards restraining the two sentries that keep them from battering themselves against the floor and walls.

Death by eyril overdose is a horrible thing. The body rips itself apart as the magic in the blood surges out of control. This usually happens after long years of overuse.

I retrieve my biological mother’s dagger while tears well in my eyes. “Hold out their hands for me.”

“Here, let me help.” Sterling steps around the pile of guards.

He manages to extend the first guard’s arm enough for me to reach his hand. The man’s fingers are curled up, the cramping muscles forcing them into a claw.

More of my tears gather.

I wait for the droplets to fall and splash onto the guard’s skin. Taking the dagger, I slash the back of his hand. The welling blood pinkens as it mingles with my healing sorrow.

Somehow, the bead of liquid does not spill, holding its shape as the hand continues to tremble.

Gods, I hope that’s enough.

But there’s no time for doubt. I move over to treat the second guard the same way.

Sterling moves with me, securing the arm so I can make the cut that will allow my tears to reach and cleanse his bloodstream.

All of this is just a theory—a hope—I have for the powers in my bloodline that I still don’t fully understand.

Within moments, their thrashing subsides. The crazed look fades from their eyes, replaced by confusion and exhaustion. I keep crying, the healing magic of my tears lessening the effects of the eyril overdose with every drop I add to their wounds.

Finally, the poisoned guards are slumped in the arms of their captors, breathing hard but lucid once more.

“What…? Captain Fitz?” The first guard I cured struggles to sit up before falling back.

“Take their helmets off. Loosen their breastplates,” Fitz snaps at his men, his hands already moving. “Then get back and give them some air.”

“Try not to move. I need some questions answered.” I wipe my face, the last of my tears drying up. “What happened? How did Celeste escape?”

The first guard, a young man with tousled blond hair, lifts his head. “It was Vicar Moise, Your Highness. He came down here offering us drinks. Said we looked parched from standing guard so long.”

The other guard, probably in his fifties judging from the gray streaks in his beard, massages his temples.

“We didn’t think anything of it, with him being on the council and a holy man and all.

But after we drank, everything went hazy.

Next thing we knew, the vicar had the keys and was unlocking the cell, and I just let him.

Everything was so bright and confusing. I could tell my water magic was trying to take me over. ”

“Yeah, it was all I could do to restrain my wind. It was like a tempest inside my body, then my head. I couldn’t even hear anything except the roaring of the storm building inside.

” The blond guard drags a trembling hand over his face.

“Even puberty wasn’t this bad.” His laugh comes out as a wet cough.

Sterling kneels next to them, eyes flashing. “You’re certain it was Vicar Moise who drugged you?”

“Yes, Your Highness.” The blond wipes his mouth. “We never would’ve taken anything from someone we didn’t know and trust.”

I fight the urge to scream.

Moise, that treasonous snake. “Captain, spread the word. Celeste has escaped, and Vicar Moise is now a traitor to the crown. He’s to be arrested on sight.”

“Right away, my queen.” Fitz gives quick orders to the other royal guards, sending two of them running to raise the alarm.

I stand frozen as they disperse, my mind whirling with dark possibilities. How long ago did Moise release Celeste? Where could they have gone in that time? And most chilling of all, what horrors will that vicious pair unleash upon my kingdom now that they’re free?

The sound of flapping wings echoes through the dungeon stairwell as the two royal guards take flight, racing to spread the news of Celeste’s escape.

My heart pounds as the implications hit me.

The Tirene use their wings to get around the sprawling palace complex so quickly, soaring through the vast halls designed for flight.

How could I not have realized?

I turn to the remaining guard. “Please, take these two to the infirmary. Healer Luci needs to check them for signs of eyril-induced corruption. She’s the one I trust most to know about this condition.

” She’s also someone I trust implicitly not to be a traitor.

I fix the afflicted guards with a stern expression.

“You are not to return to duty until Luci herself clears you, understood?”

They nod solemnly. “Yes, Your Highness.”

As the remaining guard escorts them away, Captain Fitz opens his mouth, then snaps it shut.

I raise an eyebrow. “Something to add, Captain?”

A wry grin spreads across his face. “Just damn glad you and Prince Knox are fighters, my queen. Makes my job hells of a lot easier.”

His words are a reminder that my people believe in me, in my strength, in my ability to lead and protect them. The gnawing self-doubt that’s plagued me since assuming the throne eases just a fraction.

Perhaps the council’s constant patronizing words and attitudes intended to do just that, leading me to second-guess my every thought and action before making my own choices.

High above, the blaring of warning horns splits the air, and the palace springs into action. I turn to Sterling.

He rests a hand on my shoulder. “We need to search Moise’s chambers for clues about what he’s planning or where they’re headed.”

“Lead the way.”

As we race through the palace corridors, my mind whirls with unanswered questions and worst-case scenarios. I can only pray we find Moise and Celeste before they enact whatever twisted scheme they’ve concocted.

Boots pounding against the stone, we emerge from the dungeon into the main palace halls. Two more royal guards, having heard the alarm, sprint over to join our group. Captain Fitz has one fall into line behind us and sends the other off to find more soldiers.

Safety in numbers.

Determined, we hasten toward the council members’ private wing.

Captain Fitz stops in front of one door and gestures toward it.

I throw the door open, hoping against hope Moise might still be inside.

No such luck.

Empty.

Spartan, even. The open floorplan has no doors to separate the receiving room from the sleeping area.

The only other door must lead to the private bathing chamber.

There’s one table, three chairs, and a single bed under a brass chandelier.

The whitewashed walls reflect the light streaming through the single window.

The chambers are immaculate, not a scroll out of place, the bed made with infirmary precision. Nothing’s stored on the shelves or tables, almost as if the vicar was never here at all. It’s eerily similar to how we found Celeste’s room.