Page 54 of Queen of Legends and Lies (Dragons of Tirene #4)

Bastian’s eyes flick across the pages, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Merging two elements can be done on the fly, without preparation. But three or more?” He shakes his head. “It’s far more complex.”

Around the room, understanding dawns on every face. We’ve all witnessed the monster created by unbridled power, as well as the destructive nature too much unchecked magic exerts on a human body. That’s what ultimately kills eyril addicts.

“The merge requires freely given permission, rooted in mutual trust and respect.” Bastian looks at each of us in turn.

“It’s a bond that cannot be forced or faked, a failsafe to prevent those in power from stealing or enslaving others’ abilities for their own gain.

Attempting to force such a bond on an unwilling party would backfire catastrophically, resulting in injury or even death.

First, we need to forge a blood pact. An ancient Tirenese tradition lost when House Barda took the throne. ”

The magic in our veins. The very essence of our power. All things considered, a blood pact feels right, deep down in my bones.

Wait a minute. Did he just say…when House Barda took the throne?

Sterling and I knew about that from Jasper, but no one else was supposed to know…except Eldor.

I look at the others. Agnar doesn’t seem surprised. Or maybe he doesn’t care. Rafe is glancing from Sterling—the last of the direct line of Barda rulers—to Bastian to me. Then he shrugs again.

I turn to the others, my voice steady with resolve. “Knox, for water. Agnar, for earth. Rafe, for air. Me, for fire. Rafe, how do you feel about learning something from a time when the Bardas weren’t the royal family?”

He frowns and rubs the stubble on his chin. “I’m not worried about it. That wasn’t all that long ago. I don’t think the basics of magic have changed since then.”

“Not that long?” Rafe is shocking me with his every comment.

“Oh, yes, there are records better maintained than the Royal Archives.” He tries to hide a smile, but his eyes do widen with amusement. “Like merchant logs. Especially those kept by the guild masters. Like who we paid taxes to. Some of which go back to the Lost City.”

“Oh, right, I forgot about him…” Bastian peers over at Helene and Elijah, who sit silently. “And them.”

“Royal families come and go.” Helene waves it off. “Who was the family before the Bardas? Did they die out?”

That’s some very forward thinking for someone who was once so fanatic about her nobility and the respect she felt her lineage was due. What’s happened to her in these last few months?

Not ready to spill all the beans yet, I choose my words carefully. “That’s a complicated story, and one for another time. Right now, we need to focus on learning how to merge our elements. Bastian, how do we get started?”

“If you would all step forward.” He gestures to the others. “We’re also going to need something sharp. Each of you will need to cut your palms.”

Agnar and Rafe reach for their daggers in unison, the blades gleaming in the fire and ever-light. Agnar makes sense to me. He’s a soldier. But Rafe is a guild master. His ease with a blade is a bit perplexing. Or maybe I simply haven’t spent enough time around master craftsmen.

“Perfect.” Bastian moves us around until we form a circle, with our hands outstretched and our palms up.

“The cuts need to be deep enough, but don’t maim yourself.

I’ll do it for everyone, if you don’t mind.

Cutting with your nondominant hand can be tricky.

” Taking Agnar’s blade, he walks around us, pricking our palms.

“Next, we clasp hands?” Sterling holds his hands out to Agnar and me.

Bastian nods, and we all follow suit. “Okay, repeat after me.”

“By my blood, I swear.” We all repeat after him. “That the magic which lives within me is freely shared with these, my bloodbound, so our lives will be made stronger through this union.”

I expect to feel that familiar jolt of magic…

But there’s nothing.

As the final phrase fades, a knock at the door startles me. Rhiann enters, bearing a tea tray laden with steaming cups.

“And this is part two of the process. This is what makes the joining easier. Otherwise, it would take weeks for you all to train together.” Leesa gestures for Rhiann to set the tray down.

“Tea from the Fusion Root Vine. The late Queen Alannah tended to it for a decade. It will strengthen your merge and stabilize it for the battle to come.” Leesa passes the cups around.

Bastian nods, consulting Eldor’s notes once more. “The vine is a fragile thing, temperamental as an orchid. Few survive beyond the first few months.” His finger traces a line of faded script. “But for those that do, their potency is unmatched. The older the plant, the greater the potential.”

I picture the vine, its ebony petals shot through with crimson, and remember the dowager queen bent over it, her weathered hands gentle on the leaves. An unexpected pang of loss tightens my throat. The tea is a deep, rich red, the steam curling with the scent of dark earth and summer blooms.

We raise our cups as one, the pact thrumming between us like a second heartbeat. The others observe in silence. Helene’s gaze is so intense, I’m sure she’ll be able to copy this process later. And if things go south, she very well might need to.

I meet their eyes over the rim, and in that moment, I have it. The first whisper of our magic reaching out and twining together. Stronger, steadier, more powerful than anything I’ve ever known.

As the tea warms me from within, I have the feeling that, despite everything, Alannah and Eldor are still helping us. Silently, in the background. I know with a sudden, blazing certainty that we can do this. That, together, we can face whatever horrors Narc and his followers have unleashed.

I set my cup on the table, my heart alight with purpose. “Now, let’s talk about how we’re going to save the world.”

“Thank fuck.” Elijah’s voice is laced with the arrogance he wore like a glove at Flighthaven. “As much as we all appreciate a tea party, maybe we should focus on the task at hand?”

I bite back a smart comment.

“You’re right. We need to figure out how to approach Xenon.” I pace the room, my mind racing. “He’s not going to make this easy.”