Page 46 of Queen of Legends and Lies (Dragons of Tirene #4)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

“No!” I reach for my magic but stop. I don’t want to burn the dragons or Eldor to death. As for the others…

Sterling’s already in motion, his hands outstretched as he summons his power. Gleaming spikes shoot up from the ground, encircling the dragons flailing legs and thrashing tails. The ice twists and climbs, pulling the beasts back down to the earth.

Furious roars rend the air as the dragons rage. They buck and writhe, scales glinting in the afternoon sunlight.

Wings slam the air as they attempt to gain altitude. The traitorous riders scramble to stay mounted as their steeds fight against Sterling’s icy shackles.

With all four legs bound in the air, the dragons have to focus on staying upright so as not to hurt themselves. Their utterly helpless riders are tossed about in the struggle.

My stomach twists as I watch Dame and Chirean, the soon-to-be parents, controlled against their will. If Xenon’s minions enslave them and take them to Aclaris, what will happen to their precious unhatched eggs?

Xenon will imprison, torture, drug, and bleed my dragons to feed his plants, and I shudder to think about the fate of their unborn babies.

I can’t let any of them fall into his evil hands.

I won’t.

Chirean bellows a plume of flame, nearly unseating Serle with his vigorous attack.

Focusing on our bond, I project the fear and anger boiling inside me. Fight them! Don’t let them control you!

My pleas are futile. The drachen’s corruption runs too deep. My heart fractures as these majestic creatures—my friends—strain against their bonds, more desperate to break free from the ice than the poison in their minds.

I need to maintain focus. Find a way to subdue them without causing injury. Or hurting Eldor.

Sterling remains locked in the magical struggle to restrain the dragons, his face straining with concentration as he replenishes the melting ice shackles.

He’s one man against four fire-breathing animals.

Water slashes past my ear as Serle flings a strong but poorly aimed attack at Sterling. “This is all your fault. You weak, pathetic fool. Even when you were being controlled, you couldn’t even succeed in kidnapping Lark for Xenon!”

Sterling grits his teeth, arms shaking as he infuses more power into the icy shackles. Beads of sweat slide down his rich bronze skin. “That’s not the insult you seem to think it is. You’re seriously calling me names because I didn’t betray the woman I love?”

My chest swells with affection and pride even as my stomach twists in fear for him. Normally, he’d have no trouble freezing a few dragons. But these aren’t just any dragons. They’re corrupted.

I send up a prayer to Rivlan, the God of Water, for Sterling’s safety.

All I can do while the beasts are thrashing about so closely is wait and watch for an opportunity.

Serle snarls in frustration and whirls toward Moise. “Drink!”

The vicar fumbles a vial from his robes with trembling hands. As he unstoppers it, my eyes widen in horrified recognition. The thick black liquid…

“No!” Fire sizzles from my fingertips, but my desperate blaze strikes too late.

The eyril already streams down Moise’s throat. Tanwen, his mount, throws his body to the side in an attempt to free himself.

Just what we need…a super-powered wind user battling us.

That also explains the sudden strength of Serle’s water magic.

They’re willing to risk their own free will to gain the enhanced magical power that eyril bestows.

If a drachen uses a fear attack against them, they’ll become corrupted puppets for Xenon to use.

As Dame thrashes beneath her, Celeste clings to the dragon’s neck, focused on remaining mounted.

Based on the fact that she’s not using air magic, I’m guessing she hasn’t consumed eyril yet.

Small mercies.

Desperation for freedom pulses through me, followed by a sense of superiority.

The suffocating emotions of the corrupted dragons nearly send me running. In the commotion, I’d forgotten to dampen and block out their feelings.

After I take a few seconds to do that, all four dragons open their jaws, orange light building in their throats. My heart seizes. I know what they’re planning.

I throw my hands up, ready to divert their assault. “They’re going to breathe fire!”

Jets of flame erupt…but not at us.

The dragons direct the blasts at their own legs, at the ice binding them. Hissing fills the air as the shackles melt into water.

I throw my power outward.

Using sheer will, I attempt to deflect the dragonfire.

It’s no use.

The relentless flames destroy the ice faster than Sterling can restore it. Keeping the blaze away from him is the only thing I can do.

Dread skitters down my spine like a thousand spiders.

I can’t stop this.

I’m not strong enough. None of us are. The dragons’ fire is going to free them. And then Xenon’s unhinged plan will play out.

We’re so fucked.

In that moment, Captain Fitz charges forward with several royal guards at his heels, their armor clanking. “Capture the traitors!” He points his sword at Celeste and the others. But as they near the dragons, a wall of dragonfire drives them back.

I glance around the courtyard, searching for reinforcements.

An icy realization hits me. The palace guards aren’t stationed at their usual posts. The torches that normally bathe the area in warm light are cold and dark.

No guards on duty? And where in the three hells is Agnar? He should be here by now.

But I have no time to dwell on questions I don’t have answers to.

A cruel smile twists Moise’s his lips. With a flick of his wrists, wind slams into my chest, knocking me backward.

I have to lean forward and bend my knees to keep from being tossed about like a leaf in a hurricane.

Celeste has finally righted herself on Dame’s back. Her eyes glow an eerie blue as she joins Moise’s magical onslaught. With powers that strong, she must have swallowed a dose of eyril too.

A whirlwind rises around me, tugging at my hair and clothes and threatening to lift me off the ground.

Oh, I think not.

I wreath myself in flames that buffer the gale with a sudden thermal updraft.

A triumphant roar fills the air.

Dame spreads her wings, the last of the ice crumbling away from her legs. Freed, she spins and destroys the ice trapping the others. No longer pinned, the dragons rise into the sky, their riders clinging to their backs.

Moments later, they wheel around as a group and dive straight for us, jaws agape.

Bright orange flame builds again in their throats, and a perverse sense of arrogance radiates from them. I can sense it even with my dampening shield up.

Their pride won’t allow them to flee while still being attacked.

They’ll kill us before they let that happen.

Fitz and his guards scatter as a jet of flame scorches the spot where they stood a heartbeat before.

Sterling thrusts up an ice barrier, but it shatters under the impact of a dragon’s tail.

The dragons land in the courtyard, each attacking whoever’s nearby.

Kaida lands next to me. His heavy tail lashes about and smashes down pillars while tearing up cobblestones.

Throwing my wings wide, I move backward, tossing aside the dragonfire aimed at me. Kaida isn’t the only dragon pursuing me. Chirean whips his head around, directing his flame at me, too, while Serle laughs.

Not everyone managed to react as quickly as I did.

Chaos erupts, magic and flame and screams filling the courtyard.

Dame lunges forward, jaws wide as she rushes for the guards who try to jump or fly out of her way. One isn’t fast enough, and she crushes his wing between her sharp teeth.

Dodging the projectiles I can’t burn, I focus on saving as many people as I can by attempting to redirect the flames.

It’s like moving a chest filled with armor.

Slow and nearly impossible to turn.

Twisting the magic, I try my best to direct it at the stone planters.

It’s ironic that the best way to save them is to burn everything I can. But there are too many attacks coming from every direction. Friend and foe.

Earthen barriers sprout up. Shields of water struggle against the heat. Winds thrash, throwing ash and cinder in whirling dervishes.

We’re outnumbered and overpowered.

Tanwen and Kaida add their flames to the fight, but this time, the guards duck and hide behind shields. I push the fires away before their cover is destroyed.

The gardens go up in flames.

The torches light and turn to ash in moments. The hairs on my arms sizzle and melt. Every breath burns my nose, my mouth, and my throat.

But I can’t stop moving.

As I race to intercept a blast of fire hurtling toward a cluster of guards, a horrible certainty crystallizes within me.

We’re not going to win this fight.

Not like this.

Grief lodges in my throat as I meet Eldor’s gaze across the fray, the man I’ve come to know and love still strapped across Kaida’s back. My grandfather. Helpless.

I failed him.

Just like I’m failing the kingdom.

That cascade of emotions is a distraction I cannot afford. Too late, I spot Chirean’s head swinging my way. Flames arc from his jaws, too quickly for me to dodge them.

The prophecy was wrong. I won’t even make it to the final battle. I’m going to die right here.

A wall of earth shoots up in front of me, blocking the dragonfire.

The recurved top sends the flames rolling back harmlessly. Though the dragons may not care, I bet their riders will.

Agnar slams into the wall at my side, wings tucked away. His clothes are singed, and his face is smudged with soot, but his cerulean eyes blaze with determination. “They’re attacking from everywhere.”

Leesa, Helene, and Elijah come running in stooped positions to fan out beside him. I catch a glimpse of Leesa’s stricken face when she spots Eldor on Kaida’s back. Helene opens a slit in the wall for my sister to shoot arrow after arrow at the traitors.

Like me, she’s always been good with a bow.