Page 47 of Queen of Legends and Lies (Dragons of Tirene #4)

Elijah has also carved out a peephole for himself, and he slings his own bow from his shoulder. His mouth sets in a harsh line as he nocks an arrow.

“Took you long enough.” I duck as another heatwave blasts over us. “Did you stop to smell the flowers on your way?”

“I would have.” Agnar gestures to the ash-covered grounds. “But there wasn’t much left of them.”

Moise and Serle rain down magic from atop their dragons, the air crackling with their malevolent power. I counter what I can, but I’m struggling just to hold off the dragonfire threatening to consume us.

Sweat pours down my face as I strain to maintain a shield of flame. Sterling volleys cascade after cascade of water and ice, pelting traitors and dragons alike in his fury.

Guards appear, taking cover along the arches leading to the burning courtyard. Fires are snuffed out. Water rushes up, forcing the dragons to direct their flames toward that. The ground rumbles as the earth stretches skyward to snare the rampaging beasts.

Dame thrashes against Celeste’s commands, her claws scraping grooves in the flagstones. For a moment, I’m terrified the dragons will take flight again and carry our enemies out of reach.

Then Bastian stumbles into the courtyard, one hand to his head. “The dragons won’t abandon the fight. Their pride won’t allow it. Focus on the betrayers.”

His words align with what I felt from them. I shift my focus from the corrupted creatures to the people responsible.

Celeste snarls in frustration and gives Dame’s side a vicious kick.

An unnatural gale shrieks across the courtyard, staggering both friend and foe. Wings twist and become useless. Moise and Serle hold tight, struggling to stay in place as their mounts are thrown about.

I pivot to find Alannah standing at the edge of the chaos, frail arms outstretched and nearly white hair whipping about her lined face.

The dowager queen’s emerald dress snaps and billows as she summons a ferocious wind, disrupting the traitors’ spells and buffeting the dragons’ wings. I stare in awe at the raw power she wields, the strength of will that keeps her on her feet despite her age and grief.

In that moment, she is a figure of legend, a queen of old reborn.

As before, her presence rallies the other air users. The winds grow stronger, beating the fires back.

But even legends can fall. Alannah sways, the gale faltering. I sprint to her side just as her knees buckle, catching her before she crumples to the ground. Up close, her skin is papery, her breathing labored.

She’s killing herself to give us a chance. She’s going to burn out.

“I can’t…keep this up…much longer,” she wheezes, clutching my arm with a trembling hand. Her sharp brown eyes drill into mine. “Lark, you must…stop them. No matter…the cost. Do not let them…take our dragons.”

Magic flares across the courtyard as Moise, Serle, and Celeste combine their power into a vicious blast aimed straight at Sterling.

Too late, I realize their plan.

With me distracted, they’re going after the one I love most.

“No!” The scream rips from my throat as three separate strands of magic—Serle’s water and Moise’s and Celeste’s air—slam into Sterling. He’s hurled against the castle wall with a sickening crunch.

He crumples to the ground, dark hair obscuring his face.

I race toward him, but before I can reach him, a fiery wall blazes up between us, singeing my hair and forcing me back.

The dragons have rejoined the attack.

Kaida, Tanwen, Dame, and Chirean rear up as one, their massive jaws gaping wide. Fire spews forth in blistering torrents, engulfing the courtyard in heat and smoke.

They’re aiming for Sterling too.

Out of sheer desperation, I thrust out my hands, my own magic surging to meet the inferno.

It’s like trying to hold back a tsunami with a paper shield.

The dragons’ fire is relentless. A living, roaring thing that devours everything in its path. I pour every ounce of strength into containing the inferno, but I can tell I’m weakening and my control’s slipping.

Through the shimmering haze, I catch a glimpse of Eldor atop Kaida’s back, his body bound by ropes.

His eyes meet mine. And to my horror, blackness swirls in their depths, the expressive russet hue darkening.

My gaze darts to the well at the center of the courtyard that provides the palace’s drinking water. That would explain how Moise poisoned the prison guards so easily.

The dragons are an impassable wall of flame and fury, blocking the path between me and salvation. As the inferno rages on and my strength wanes, icy fingers of despair tear into my chest.

“Grandfather!” I scream. “Fight the corruption! Don’t let them control you!”

For a second, when those black-streaked eyes widen, I see a flicker of the man I love. Then Kaida lunges, belching fire, and the connection vanishes. I dodge and roll, hurling my own flames to counter the attack.

Sterling is down but not out.

His massive shield of ice shimmers along the wall. He repairs it after each assault, but I can tell he’s weakening.

I need to save him first. I can cure Eldor later.

If I survive.

Dragonfire licks at my skin, barely held at bay by my own flames as I barrel through the chaos with my eyes fixed on the well ahead.

Each step shoots white-hot agony through my body. Still, I push on, fueled by desperation and unyielding resolve.

“Lark!” Eldor’s hoarse cry rises above the roar of battle. “Don’t do this. It’s too dangerous!”

“I have to try.” I whirl to see him straining against his bonds on top of Kaida, his features fixed in an anguished mask. “I can’t let Knox die!”

Around us, the battle rages on.

Sterling struggles against the onslaught of magic from Celeste and her cohorts. Royal guards clash with the traitors, steel ringing against steel in a deadly symphony. I’m the only one who can help Sterling.

Agony lances through me when Eldor’s strained voice reaches my ears again. “Lark, you must…” His head jerks violently, black veins pulsing beneath his skin. “Read the books!”

I shift direction and lurch toward Eldor, desperate to reach him, to somehow stop the corruption ravaging his body. “Grandfather, no!” My scream is raw and primal.

“I know you will…make me proud.” He twists under his ropes, writhing as his hand finds the dagger at his hip. “I love you…Granddaughter.”

Terror wraps around my heart and squeezes. “What are you?—”

But it’s too late.

With a final, wrenching spasm, Eldor frees the dagger from its sheath and plunges the blade into his heart.

Dark crimson oozes over his hand.

Time slows, stretching out into an endless, horrifying moment. I can only watch, frozen, as Eldor crumples atop Kaida, his lifeblood spilling across the black scales.