Page 2 of The Dragon Queen (Ember: Queen Of Dragons #6)

It's not that I have never returned to the site of my old kingdom. When our people deserted it at the end of the war, we left in haste. The magic required to remove an entire nation of dragons was dangerous and unpredictable.

As I stand before the portal that Ember and Rook have created, leading us back to the abandoned ruins, I huff out a breath that tastes of ash and bile.

It's only now that understand why the magic was so volatile. It was created by my mother's rage, but it was fueled by the Shadow Kingdom's dark magic.

If only I had known that, then.

As it was, I trusted in my mother's wisdom, leading my people in our exodus. We left our home a shambles, relying on a cobbled-together series of illusions and a friendly sea to cover our tracks. By the grace of the Gods, it worked. No one from the other kingdoms suspected what we had done. Believing the story we sowed that we had been wiped off the map by a Shadow Dragon attack, they mourned us, and we sat back, satisfied in our deception. We began anew, and we rarely looked back.

But I was just a boy, grieving the loss of my father and my brothers, drowning under the weight of my new responsibility as the crown prince. When my mother and her advisors deemed it necessary for our nation to conduct missions back to our old home to ensure its security, I was all too eager to volunteer.

Even then, striding through the waterlogged streets was like wading through an ocean of ghosts. There was no solace in the eerie, silent city.

All I can do is pray that it offers me, my mate, and our companions some kind of solace now.

With all of her concentration bent on maintaining the portal, Ember flicks her gaze to mine for the briefest of moments. Ever so subtly, she nods.

Taking a deep breath, I look to Rafe and Jett. The two men nod, and together we step through.

The world shivers, and there's that terrible moment of falling through nothingness, but it's a feeling I'm beginning to become accustomed to. I keep my bearings the best I can.

And then I'm landing on damp earth, the sky above me achingly familiar and vast.

All around us is rubble.

"Love what you've done with the place," Rafe quips, but I ignore him.

We've materialized a hundred meters or so south of the abandoned capital of the old Water Dragon Kingdom. I gesture ahead and lead Rafe and Jett between overgrown trees and along paths all but buried by decades of neglect.

The wards are where I remember them. I close my eyes and feel the cool wave of my magic rushing through the magical ink on my arms. Opening my eyes again, I inscribe a series of old sigils in the air, the writing flowing outward. A shiver passes through me as the wards crumble away.

"You're sure the queen will not detect our presence?" Jett asks.

"I'm sure."

It's been years since the last expedition to check the status of our old home. When we departed, it was for good. There was nothing left for us here; no secrets remaining to protect. Even if anyone was monitoring the old wards, I was entrusted with their keys. I've dissolved them in a way that only I would have been able to sense.

Still, we've been sent here as an advance party to scout ahead.

"Come," I bid my companions.

Between one breath and the next, I call forth my dragon. Rafe and Jett follow suit, and together, we fly a low path over the ruins. Nothing stirs.

Pangs of sour regret squeeze even my dragon heart.

The Water Dragon Kingdom's spies worked hard, those first few years after our disappearance. They convinced everyone that rather than trying to rebuild, the site of our once-grand kingdom should be preserved as a memorial. Due to its remoteness, it welcomes no tourists or pilgrims. No one has tried to settle it, and thanks to our magic, even wildlife has tended to stay clear.

"Cheerful," Rafe's dragon grumbles in my head.

He's not wrong. The waters we gave rise to have receded, leaving the land dry and habitable, but everything has the appearance of decay and neglect.

Deep within the city is another illusion, though. I fly onward, breathing in the ghostly, lingering scents of my kingdom's day-to-day life. Market air and spices and dragonscale. The sheer force of nostalgia makes my wings wobble for a moment.

I shake it off. There will be time for sentimentality later.

For now, I glide to the very center of the ruins. The old palace that once gleamed with pure white stone is now a dusty, moldering gray. But my dragon eyes are keen enough to see the ripples in the air; my lungs taste the liquid pulse of long-enduring magic.

I circle its top turret a half dozen times, gathering the tenor of the spell in my wings. It vibrates with aquamarine light like a giant, ethereal ball within my talons.

At long last, I swoop in and descend. I alight on the roof, with spellwork written on my skin. I gather the illusions and pull the thread of a protection spell designed to weave a net of preservation over a mile-wide swath for centuries.

The fabric of the spell unravels beneath my fingertips. Brilliant blue glints of magic rise from the surface of the palace and drift upward, leaving trails of luminescence in their wake, revealing the perfectly preserved white stone of the castle I once called my home. My heart aches with the force of memory, but now is not a time to be looking to the past.

Now is a time to be fighting for our future.

As the false impression of decay disintegrates, I trace a few more sigils in the air, removing the last of the enchantment, and it washes away in sloughs of glimmering mist.

Simultaneously, I feel out carefully with my senses. The unraveling of the spell leaves a ripple in the atmosphere, but it doesn't seem to travel beyond the abandoned city. The wards I dissolved are silent.

We're alone here, in the city my people once fled. Undetected.

Safe.

EMBER

By the time we've evacuated the last willing resident of Unity, my vision is blurring around the edges from the strain of the deep magic. Rather than having a few hundred people step through a portal, Rook and Rhiannon and I devised a bubble of sorts that we expanded over the town. People could only take what they could carry or at least lay their hands on, but what other choice did we have?

At last, it's done. The boundaries of the spell match the boundaries of Unity. My arms shaking, sweat dripping down my brow, I glance up at Rook. He still stands tall and proud, but his face is haggard, his knuckles white as he clenches his fist around something he still has yet to let me see. But that doesn't matter right now. As our gazes meet, he nods.

"Now," he grits out.

Jianyu and Storm insisted on staying behind to look after me, and Rhiannon insisted on staying behind to keep a wary eye on Rook. They know the signal, though. Rhiannon puts her hand on my uncle's shoulder, and Jianyu and Storm curl their arms around my waist, and I want so badly to sag into them, but I resist.

Just a few moments more.

It still feels strange, twisting my magic together with Rook's, but together, we contract the spell. Inward and inward, and it accelerates, rushing toward us with crushing force. My connections to Jianyu and Storm light up with alarm, but I push through.

And then the bubble is the size of the room, purple and shimmering and sputtering, dark gaps eating away the dying magic. The locket around my neck gasps, and I yank hard at what's left of the spell. Bright white light erupts around my fingertips, and Rook's eyes flare wide.

The spell crashes over us, and we're plummeting. The light evaporates, leaving us in a hurtling tunnel of darkness. I cling to my mates, but there's nothing to hold onto as we fall and fall and fall.

We land abruptly on a warm, stone floor.

My bones ache, my entire body rattling. The sudden relief of the spell collapsing is violent and delicious all at the same time. Shuddering, I close my eyes for just a moment.

I did it. With Rook's help, I evacuated an entire town full of people, sparing them the Shadow King's wrath.

But at what cost?

The tender spot on my arm where the bracer used to sit pulses with an unnerving, staticky dissonance. My connections to my mates are as strong and vivid as ever, but I still feel as if a door has been closed inside of me, my senses cut off in a way I can't explain. Where vivid magic burned within me, there's only dark ash and ghostly shadows.

I clutch the locket. Its crackling aura of power is faded to a flickering whisper. Barely enough for one final portal.

A hollow emptiness pangs in my chest.

"Ember, love..."

The threads of my mate-bonds tug gently at my heart, shimmering with concern, and I force myself to open my eyes. Malik kneels beside me, lines appearing between his brows. He extends a hand, and I slip my palm into his, allowing the strength of our connection to pour into me through his touch.

He helps me to sit up. I try to hide my wince, but I don't think I succeed. My head throbs, and the hollow ache behind my ribs is sucking all the air out of my lungs. Every part of me hurts. My limbs weigh five thousand pounds, and the loss of my magic has stolen my balance.

"Easy, there." Rafe joins Malik, and together they manage to support me in standing.

My eyes swing around wildly. We're in a white, marble room, draped in rich blue and green tapestries, the walls lined with comfortable but elegant furniture and gleaming, glass sculptures. Storm and Jianyu hover close. Over on the other side of the room, Rhiannon is supporting Rook, who's nearly as hollowed out as I am.

"Is everyone accounted for?" I ask.

Freya's voice rings out, and I find her standing in a doorway, exhausted but relieved. "Every man, woman, child, non-binary, and werewolf."

I sag further into Malik and Rafe. Rafe tugs me in against his side, squeezing my waist in congratulations. "You did it."

"We did." I look over at Rook, and our gazes meet. His still holds the wariness that gathered in his eyes just as the spell was collapsing, and I remember the flash of light that appeared at the tips of my fingers. A glint of brightness lights the dark void within my chest, but it's there and gone in a minute, and I'm too wrung out to chase it.

"We're safe here," Malik interrupts.

Rook huffs out a breath. "For now."

Rhiannon rolls her eyes. "You're both exhausted." When Rook starts to protest, she shakes her head, almost fond. "You can doom and gloom at us some more once you're rested."

I look to Malik. "You're sure no one can find us here?"

"As certain as I can be," he assures me. "Come on. Let's get you someplace quiet."

I wave him off, but my arms are leaden. "I'm fine."

"Sure you are," Storm chuckles.

And he's teasing me, calling me out on my obvious lie.

But I shiver anyway. He doesn't know the half of it.

I am so, so far from being anything close to fine.