Page 50 of Queen of Legends and Lies (Dragons of Tirene #4)

Chapter Forty-One

My heart aches, a hollow emptiness spreading inside me as I stand in our bedchamber. Sterling lies sprawled across the bed. He’s still in his ash-covered pants and boots. His chest rises and falls in an uneven rhythm.

Barely an hour ago, we dragged each other in here, then wept into each other’s arms over the loss of both Eldor and Alannah.

I watch as Sterling shivers in his sleep, a deep tremor running through his muscular frame.

Worry knots my stomach. He’s been freezing lately, his normally warm skin cold to the touch.

Is it the constant strain of wielding his water magic day after day?

The result of our merging? Or the lingering effects of the corruption that nearly destroyed him?

I brush a silky lock of hair off his forehead. “What are we going to do, love?”

He’s only just returned to me, to us. And now, he’s being asked to give more, to sacrifice more, to push his magic to the brink over and over. How long can he endure this? How long can any of us?

Gently, I unlace his boots and tug them off, setting them on the floor. He mumbles something unintelligible but doesn’t wake.

I know I should let him rest while he can. But the selfish part of me wants to curl up beside him and revel in his scent.

Instead, I pull a blanket over his shivering body and brush a featherlight kiss across his brow. “Sleep, my love. I’ll keep watch for us both.”

As I settle into a chair beside the bed, I know there will be no rest for me. For Sterling, for this man I cannot bear to lose, I have to be strong. I will find a way.

Somehow.

I stare into the crackling flames of the fire, lost in thought. The palace is too quiet, too still. It’s as if even the ancient stones are holding their breath, bracing for the next blow.

Absently, I rub my arms, trying to ward off the chill that’s seeped into my very bones. My fire magic has always kept me warm, but now, there’s only an unsettling emptiness where that comforting heat once resided.

A soft knock at the door startles me from my reverie. I tense, reaching for a sword that isn’t there. Old habits die hard, especially in times like these.

“Come in.” Not wanting to wake Sterling, I keep my voice low.

The door creaks open, and Healer Luci slips inside, her white apron stained with blood and ash.

Weariness is carved into every line of her normally cheerful face. “I saw the light under your door.” Her voice is just above a whisper. “I thought…hoped you might still be awake.”

I nod, gesturing for her to take the other chair by the fire.

She sinks into it, her gaze drifting to Sterling. “How is he?”

I sigh, running a hand through my tangled hair. “Exhausted. We all are. But he…he’s been through so much, Luci. I’m afraid for him. For all of us.”

“You’ll find a way, Your Highness. The same way you did last night. You had a plan in place, and you were able to implement it, saving countless lives.”

I squeeze her hand, drawing strength from her conviction. She’s right. We have to find a way. Because the alternative? The alternative is unthinkable.

But how can we fight an enemy that can corrupt everything it touches? How can we defeat a god that refuses to stay dead?

The merged power we’d achieved—the surge of hope that had filled me when our magic intertwined—is like a distant memory.

We could barely defeat the human traitors. Mortal enemies. Even with our powers combined, even with Sterling and Agnar by my side…it almost wasn’t enough.

The worst part is they’d managed to fool us, to infiltrate our home once again.

Luci grunts as she stands. “One bit of good news. Bastian will be fine. A glancing blow. The kind of head wound that seems tragic but isn’t. He’s already up and trying to get back to the books. He does have a concussion and may be a bit groggy today. But after that, he should be all right.”

Relief eases some of the knots in my stomach.

“Thank you.” I close my eyes, neck bowing from the phantom weight of the crown on my head. The responsibility that accompanies it will never leave me.

I didn’t ask for this. I never wanted to be the one to lead our people through the darkness.

But here I am all the same. And there’s no turning back.

Morning sunlight illuminates the courtyard as I approach the fire paddock, my footsteps heavy with fatigue and despair. Despite my exhaustion and hearing the good news about Bastian, I couldn’t sleep.

I’m too restless.

Guards patrol the perimeter, but I barely notice them. My eyes are fixed on the sky above, where three dragons soar in a protective circle, their wings casting shadows on the ground below.

I fly over the paddock wall, my heart aching as I take in the sight before me.

Dame, Chirean, Kaida, and Tanwen lie in a heap, their scales dull, and their eyes closed.

Ryu and the other dragons have piled on top of them in a protective embrace.

They’re keeping their wounded brethren warm and safe, just as we humans try to do for each other in times of crisis.

Ryu lifts his head from Tanwen’s back. When his golden eyes meet mine, I feel a swell of gratitude, a wordless thanks for saving his friends. But even as I nod in response, the guilt twists in my gut like a knife.

If I’d caught on sooner, they never would’ve been in danger in the first place.

I inch closer, reaching out to stroke Dame’s scaled cheek. Her massive belly rises with each shallow breath.

She’s alive but still recovering from the effects of the corruption. They all are. And it’s my fault.

I should’ve been faster, stronger, smarter. I should’ve found a way to protect them from the corruption that forced them to fight against their will.

Tears sting my eyes as I sink to my knees beside Dame and rest my head against hers. The scent of sulfur and blood clings to her scales, a remnant of the battle we just fought and nearly lost.

“I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry.”

Ryu nudges me with his massive snout in a gentle reminder that I’m not alone. That, even in my brokenness, I’m welcome here. His message soothes me, but it’s not enough to ease the pain in my chest.

I curl up against Dame, my wings wrapping around me like a cocoon.

As I drift off into a fitful sleep, exhaustion claiming me, I can’t help but wonder how much longer we can go on like this. How much more we can endure before we break completely. And what will happen to our kingdom when we do.

Minutes, or maybe hours later, a gentle touch on my shoulder startles me awake. I blink up at the familiar face hovering above me. “Leesa?” My voice is rough with sleep and unshed tears. “What are you doing here?”

She settles down beside me. “I couldn’t sleep either. Not after everything that’s happened.”

I nod, understanding all too well the burden we both carry. The responsibility for the lives of our people, both human and dragon alike.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” The words tumble from my lips before I can stop them. “I thought I could handle it on my own, that I could protect everyone. But I was wrong.”

Leesa’s hand finds mine, her fingers lacing through my own in a silent show of solidarity. “You’re not alone, Lark. You never were.”

But the guilt is too heavy to bear and the shame too deep to shake.

“People died because of me. Dragons were corrupted and forced to fight against their will. And I couldn’t stop it.

” My shoulders quake with the force of my sobs, and the tears I’ve been holding back for so long finally break free.

“I can’t handle losing or endangering anyone else.

But danger seems to follow me wherever I go. I’m a curse.”

Leesa pulls me into her arms, holding me tight as I cry. “You’re not a curse, Lark. You’re our queen. Our leader. And we need you now more than ever.”

I wish I had half the confidence my sister has. “I feel so ashamed. So embarrassed. So helpless and hopeless.”

Beside me, Dame stirs, her consciousness brushing against mine. Love and loyalty radiates from her, along with unwavering faith in me even though I’ve lost faith in myself.

A leathery wing settles around Leesa and me, the dragon’s maternal instinct on high alert. Her scales warm my skin, and the steady thrum of her heartbeat mimics my own.

And then, one by one, the other dragons begin to gather around us, their massive bodies pressing close, creating a shield from the horrors of the world beyond. Ryu, Chirean, Kaida, Nailah, Tanwen. They all come, forming a wall of scales and unshakable devotion.

It’s as if Leesa and I are their hatchlings, their precious eggs that they would do anything to protect. And I nestle deeper into their embrace, basking in their balmy comfort.

The tears continue to fall, but there’s a glimmer of something else now too. A flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, we can still find a way through this darkness.

Leesa holds me until the weeping finally subsides, and I whisper the words that have been haunting me for so long. “I don’t know how to push through this. I’ve lost my way. My hope. I’m just…lost.”

She pulls back, brown eyes searching mine with an intensity that catches me off guard. “That’s it!” I note the sudden spark of excitement in her voice.

“What are you talking about?”

Leesa just shakes her head, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “I think I might know someone who can help us, Lark. The God of Lost Things. Maybe you need to summon him.”

A brief, hiccupping laugh escapes my lips before I can stop it. “It’s not like I lost my hairbrush, Leesa. This is a little bigger than that.” The idea seems almost absurd, given the enormity of what we’re facing.

“Lost ways. Lost knowledge. Lost faith and hope. All of these things can be lost as well.” She reaches out, grasping my hands in hers. “And if anyone can help us find them again, it’s him.”

I stare at her for a long moment, scouring her face for any hint of doubt or uncertainty. But I find none. Only a fierce determination and steadfast belief in her words. “You really think he could?”

Leesa nods, her grip on my hands tightening. “I do. And even if he can’t…well, it’s worth a try. At this point, what do we have to lose?”

I suck down a deep, shuddering breath as her words sink in. She’s right. We’ve already lost so much. Our loved ones, our sense of safety, our very way of life. What’s one more gamble in the face of all that?

“Okay. Let’s do it. Let’s summon the God of Lost Things and see if he can help us find our way back to the light.”

As I survey the dragons still surrounding us, then peer at Leesa’s determined face, that glimmer of renewed optimism grows. It’s small and fragile but present all the same. And for now, that’s enough.