Page 83 of Queen of Legends and Lies
I’ve had enough of these fuckers trying to attack me. Taking from me. Robbing me of people I love.
I reach for my magic, but the flames gutter out as quickly as they form.
Sterling frowns when he sees the glowing band on my wrist. I cut my eyes at Xenon in a silent explanation.
After understanding dawns, Sterling points at the cuff. “Hold still. This won’t be pleasant.”
Icy fire radiates up my arm, and I utilize every ounce of self-control not to cry out in pain. Each shallow inhalation fills me with agony.
Within seconds, the pain recedes to a dull ache. I peer down. The cuff is gone, an angry red mark in its place.
I massage the tender skin. “Thank you?—”
“No time, love.” Next to me, Sterling slides into a fighting stance, frost spreading from his feet. “You all right?”
I nod, relief flooding through me as the familiar hum of my magic returns in full force.
We stand back-to-back as the drachen inch closer, dark shapes twisting and morphing until they’re as large as dragons.
Xenon watches with a cruel smile, arms crossed almost as if he’s bored. Like we’re not even a threat to him.
My heart pounds, but I refuse to let terror overtake me. This time, it’s not me against Xenon and the horde of drachen he commands. I’ve got Sterling by my side.
I focus inward, trying to merge my fire magic with Sterling’s water, but it’s like grasping an oiled rope. The emotional connection we’ve been using every time is muddled, distant.
Xenon takes advantage of our struggle.
Uncrossing his arms, he lifts his hands to create a funnel of wind with his air magic. The vortex spins and spins, gaining speed and momentum. He lowers his hands and makes acome-hithermotion.
The ground obeys him as hard-packed earth shifts under our feet. Stones rise from the soil, joining the swirling maelstrom. Xenon raises his hands again, palms up. In his right hand, he conjures a glittering gem as big as a grapefruit before hurling it into the wind funnel.
Then another. And another. And several more after that.
Dread sucker punches me in the gut. I drop my voice to a whisper. “Is that?—”
“Ice.” Disbelief laces Sterling’s tone. “He’s wielding ice.”
“How…” The question dies in my throat as I watch a ball of flame form in the king’s left palm.
He hurls the fireballs into the vortex, just as he did with the balls of ice.
Dear gods and all things holy, he’s manipulating all four elements.
Sterling shifts closer. “That’s not possible.”
Normally, I’d be inclined to agree that, no, this what-the-fuckery is absolutely not possible. But it is. Because, that night when I fought him at Flighthaven, he somehow channeled power from the drachen.
And he’s doing that same thing now.
Dozens of drachen circle above. Xenon lifts his head, gray eyes starting to glow in a way that causes my skin to crawl.
He opens his mouth, and his body goes rigid as a swirling black plume funnels into him. His eyes glow brighter. More essence gushes into him.
Then, just as quickly as it started, it stops.
Xenon’s eyes go back to their usual gray. His body relaxes. His lips tilt up in a smile that promises vengeance. He focuses on the orbiting drachen, chanting ancient, ritualistic words in an entirely different language.
While he’s occupied with that, I pivot toward Sterling. “We have to concentrate and merge somehow. It’s the only way to get out of here alive.”
