Page 49 of Queen of Legends and Lies (Dragons of Tirene #4)

Chapter Forty

Smoke stings my eyes, and hot tears stream down my cheeks as I step over the charred remains of both corrupted and uncorrupted bodies throughout the courtyard.

“Lark. We need to move.”

I turn to Sterling. His face is a mask of thick, wet soot. Despite everything, my heart still flutters at his closeness.

“Not yet. Bastian…” I hasten toward where my brother’s body lies, halfway between the palace and where the dragons are slumped.

Sterling follows a pace behind me, giving us both some room to grieve.

A few feet away, Agnar barks out orders, demanding healers and sending off flyers to set up a secure perimeter. Proving yet again how much of a friend he is.

Have I ever told him how much he means to me?

From a distance, I can tell Bastian’s hazel eyes are closed. Despite the pool of blood seeping from his head, that sight gives me a glimmer of hope.

Dead eyes don’t close. They stare.

I’m running before I can even think and dropping to my knees at his side. His head wobbles, and miraculously, the muscle along his jaw clenches in pain.

“Bastian!” I rest a hand on his shoulder, careful not to jostle him.

He groans. Another sign of life. More than I dared to wish for.

“What’s wrong?” Leesa’s voice is accompanied by the stamp of approaching feet.

Relief blooms through the shock. “Bastian’s hurt, but he’s alive. His head…” I’m not sure if I should touch him, move him, or leave him lying still.

Sterling kneels beside me, leaning over to inspect my half-brother’s bleeding head wound. “That’s a deep cut. But the skull’s intact.” He grabs for his shirt, then stops as his hands encounter the layers of dirt and soot left on him from the fight.

When Leesa reaches us, her hands flutter over Bastian. “What happened?”

Sterling rips his filthy shirt off his body and uses elemental magic to clean most of the debris off the material. He hands the shirt to Leesa. “Press this against the wound. Hold it as tight as you can. Keep pressure on it so the bleeding will stop.”

“He was hit in the head with a rock. It was really bad. Sent him flying and not with his wings…” I trail off once I realize I’m babbling. “I thought the blow killed him, but?—”

“But he’s not dead.” Leesa’s words are fierce. “And he’s strong. He’ll be okay. I’ll take care of him. You need to see to everyone else.”

How can I leave my family when danger still lurks? When my brother’s lying in a pool of his own blood?

Desperate tears begin to form in my eyes.

Sterling’s hand on my arm stops their downward spiral.

“You don’t need to heal him, it’s just a flesh wound.

His skull is intact, and he’s breathing easily.

The sooner we get things settled, the sooner we can get the healers out here safely.

And I don’t think anyone’s going to get past your sister at the moment. ”

I hesitate, then nod. Surely, Sterling wouldn’t lie about something this important.

I stand and cover my wing tips with fire before stretching them high to act as a beacon. “Soldiers of Tirene, report to me. We must stop the spread of the corrupted!”

More soldiers have gathered in the courtyard, and even more drop down from the balconies. With every passing minute, our numbers grow.

Agnar jogs up beside me, his skin slick with sweat. He jerks a thumb back at the palace well, its stone lip cracked from the battle. “Want me to bring that thing down? Collapse it so no one else gets infected drinking from the well?”

Trust Agnar to understand the problem without even needing me to explain. Though I’d transformed most of the water into mist, some remains, and any is too much.

I shake my head as I stride over to the well. “We need water. Every living creature does. Wounds will also need to be washed. We can’t waste our resources unless there’s no other way. No, let me try something first.”

I take a deep breath and think of the people we’ve lost. Blair. My mother. Eldor. Alannah. Olive. Nick. Jasper. Too many others to count. All those lives cut short, and for what? The pursuit of power?

Grief swells in my chest. My throat. Though crying at will is easier said than done, my nose quickly begins to burn.

Liquid gathers in my eyes, and I lean over the lip of the reservoir and let my tears drip freely into its dark depths.

When they plink into the water below and send ripples across the surface, hope bubbles through me once again.

“Hand me a canteen. Or whatever’s available.” I hold out a hand without looking.

Agnar presses a waterskin into my palm. I fill it from the well, then turn to find a suitable guinea pig.

I approach the nearest soldier, a lanky man with wary eyes. I remember seeing him frozen in fear by a drachen.

I hold the bottle out to him. “Drink.”

He blanches but doesn’t argue. Nor does he reach for the waterskin.

I wipe the tears from my eyes and press them to the deep scrape on his neck. “I will not sacrifice your life, even to save others.”

With trust on my side, the guard takes a swig, and we all hold our breath.

Seconds tick by. His veins remain clear, his face and irises unblemished by corruption.

Relief crashes through me. “It worked.” And that answers the question of whether adding my tears will cleanse the corruption from the well and heal anyone who drinks it. “Protect as many people as possible. No matter what it requires.”

Sterling appears at my elbow with his sword unsheathed. “Ready?”

I survey the battered palace grounds, my heart heavy yet resolute.

“Yes, we need to take the fight to them. We’ll scour every inch of the palace and city.

We’ll save as many as we can. We’ll also need to discard every bit of water we find.

Cups, troughs, tea kettles, it doesn’t matter.

If it’s an ingestible liquid and not sealed, it gets dumped. ”

“We have to move fast.” Sterling grips my shoulder, his touch both reassuring and urgent. “We’ll take the city. The rest of you, fan out and clear the palace.”

As we split up, I can’t help but shudder at the thought of what we might find. Corruption spreads like an invisible plague, and time is not on our side.

We move swiftly through the streets, the soldiers’ boots echoing on the cobblestones. At each house, we knock and wait with bated breath. Some doors open to reveal frightened but blessedly untainted faces. Others remain ominously shut, forcing us to break through and confront the horrors within.

As we battle the corrupted citizens—their minds twisted by the eyril Celeste obtained and dispersed—I’m amazed by how fast she and her co-conspirators pulled off this scheme. Some of the corrupted have chosen to flee, of that, I’m sure.

It’s harrowing work. A waking nightmare that seems to stretch on forever. But we persevere, driven by the knowledge that every life we reclaim is a victory against the darkness threatening to consume our kingdom.

I hurry down the cobbled street, a detachment of soldiers at my heels.

“Let’s go this way first.” Sterling veers right, his pace picking up as he scans the man-made destruction in the residential areas. “Agnar’s sister lives down this way. I want to make sure her family’s okay.”

“Quinn’s a strong woman. Do you really think…” My heart pounds in my chest as we approach Agnar’s sister’s home.

Please, let her be all right.

But as we round the corner, my worst fears come to fruition. The door to her house has been blasted off its hinges, and splintered wood, stained in blood, litters the ground.

We ease forward, peering inside the entryway.

My lungs seize as time comes to a halt.

“ Fuck .” Sterling scrubs a hand over his jaw. “Not Ezra.”

It’s not Quinn but her husband. Rose’s father. The explosion split the door into a million jagged wooden weapons and must’ve nailed his body to the wall.

A tidal wave of sadness threatens to crush me, but panic fights for dominance, quickly overcoming my grief.

Rose. And Quinn. They have to be here. Have to be all right.

I race inside, struggling not to look into the dead eyes of the blond-haired, blue-eyed man who died trying to protect his family. “Rose? Quinn? Are you here?”

There’s no response. The house is deserted, with no trace of the little girl or her mother. I sink to my knees, tears stinging my eyes. If anything happened to that sweet, innocent child because of me…

Sterling’s hand rests on my shoulder, his touch gentle but firm. “We’ll find them, Lark. I promise.”

But will they be alive?

I nod, wiping away my tears as I stand up. “We have to check the surrounding villages. Make sure there are no corrupted hiding there.” Grandfather. Alannah. Agnar’s brother-in-law, Ezra. Are they coming after our families on purpose?

Sterling gives the order, and soon, groups of soldiers are heading out, primed to test anyone they come across. I watch them go, my heart weighed down by the knowledge that everything’s falling apart around us.

As dawn approaches, the sky is a twisted mass of storm clouds, edged with an ominous bloodred light. Lightning flashes in the distance, illuminating the southern horizon.

“The corrupted are coming.” My voice is barely audible over the howling wind and the sobs of the survivors now scattered about the streets. “They’ll be here soon.”

Sterling nods grimly, his jaw clenched tight. “We’ll be ready for them.”

How can I offer hope when I’m so utterly hopeless myself?

We reach the palace gates, a twisted ruin of metal and stone. The guards on duty salute wearily as we pass, their eyes hollow with the horrors they’ve just witnessed.

“Your Highness.” A young guard with wheat-colored hair bows her head. “We’ve secured the palace and have posted extra guards at all the entrances.”

I nod, too drained to offer more than a whispered, “Thank you.”

As we cross the threshold into the courtyard, the last of my strength deserts me. My knees buckle, and I sink to the ground, my body racked with silent sobs.

Sterling kneels beside me as he gathers me into his arms. “Shh, love. We did all we could. We saved as many as possible.”

“But it wasn’t enough,” I choke out, voice raw with pain. “So many lost, so much destruction…”

For a long moment, we simply cling to each other, drawing what little comfort we can from our shared grief.

Finally, Sterling clears his throat. “We should rest. We’ll need our strength for what’s to come.”