Page 122 of Queen of Legends and Lies
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 theyplinkinto 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.
