Page 103 of Heart of the Summer Queen

As I race toward her, I become wind and rain rather than flesh and bone. For those heartbeats I am no longer merely mortal but transformed into something far greater—something without a trace of fear flowing through her veins.

My blade bears down on Isidore. I’m certain it will strike its mark, piercing her back.

But the city falls silent, and she turns. Shock transforms her ethereal face to something far more human. My sword sinks in—

Into ice.

It slices through as if parting sand, gliding effortlessly. Yet the shield has granted Isidore an extra instant between herself and the blade, allowing her to twist away so it doesn’t pierce her chest.

Instead, my sword slashes through her arm, spilling blood. But no crimson stains the ground. Her blood gleams indigo, so deep a shade it resembles polished onyx within the shadows.

Isidore’s pained hiss brings no satisfaction, just sinking dread. The transcendent strength rapidly draining from my limbs reminds me how mortal I really am. Fear coils through my veins, constricts my thundering heart.

I have failed.

Isidore’s bright eyes narrow, flicking between me and the sword I clutch. “The Sword of Veliantis,” she seethes, eyeing the ruby-laden hilt. Her gaze shifts to Elaric, burning with a molten fury so unlike her power. “The weapon you used to murder my sister.”

“Your sister murdered my father and people,” Elaric says evenly. “Her death was deserved, and I would choose the same again.”

A snarl twists Isidore’s face. “A thousand mortal lives cannot equal one witch’s.”

She throws her arms wide. A whirlwind of hail spins around her, driving Elaric and me back.

I shield my face from the shards.

The storm swirls faster, obscuring Isidore’s form. If she directs such power toward us, we’ll be doomed.

“Elaric!” I shout.

He stretches a wall around us, thickening into a globe. The shield completes just as Isidore’s blizzard erupts.

I brace for impact, fearing Elaric’s magic won’t withstand her attack. But my worry proves unfounded. While hail glances off our shelter, the blows lack significant force.

From the whirling snow a formidable shape rises—a silhouette akin to the sea serpent we battled on Eruweth’s shore, but thrice the size. Twisted horns and sprawling wings adorn the creature.

A dragon.

My lungs empty. Defeating Isidore in her mortal form seemed impossible. But battling a dragon...

I turn to Elaric, unable to hide my fear.

“Her sister also assumed a dragon form when I fought her.” He straightens, voice hardening with resolve. “I had to drive the blade through the beast’s heart.”

I glance between the jeweled sword and the hulking beast looming over us. My gaze trails down to its talons which gouge craters in the cobblestones.

“How did you get close enough?” I ask, mouth drying with trepidation.

“I had a thousand men at my side. And still, it was through sheer luck that the beast didn’t incinerate me during the attempt.”

Since we have no army, I’ll have to draw near and pray fortune graces me as it did Elaric centuries ago.

I tighten my grip on the hilt.

The dragon beats her mighty wings. If not for Elaric’s shield, we’d be flung to the ground. Statues topple, smashing into thousands of shards. As does the stall behind us.

Though the dragon’s maw doesn’t move, Isidore’s voice bellows across the square: “Allow me to show you the true difference in our power.”

Her nostrils flare, inhaling deeply. Readying her attack.

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