Page 94 of Queen of Legends and Lies
“Do you think things are getting too steamy?” I frown at the empty field that stretches for miles, at the bare dirt and scattered rocks baking under the midday sun. No trees or grass in sight. Nothing to burn. Far from the noise and bustle of thecity and palace. Just Sterling and me, away from the prying eyes of the council.
“Not nearly as steamy as things got this morning.” He laughs, and his smoldering glance sends heat pooling low in my body. “Anyway, no point worrying when there’s no one out here to see us.”
Wispy curls of steam roll along the barren ground, hissing up from fissures in the cracked earth. I point at them and chuckle. “Steamy…with our magic.”
I’m happy to claim a rare moment of privacy but also weary. Despite all our practicing, we’ve noticed little progress merging. At least our control is improving.
Sterling grins, hands on his trim hips as he surveys our handiwork. “Well, fire plus water makes steam. That’s to be expected.” His dark, unbound hair ruffles in the breeze.
I know he’s right, but I can’t help thinking there must be more to this than merely creating steam.
After all, during the fight with Xenon, we managed to summon a full-blown tornado, the swirling vortex crackling with power.
But that was only because I deliberately kept our magics from fully fusing, allowing them to interact violently.
Is that what we’re doing wrong?
Before I can contemplate the implications, a surge of intense emotions slams into me, pulling a gasp from my lips. In my distraction, I must’ve let my mental dampening slip.
Fear, anger, violence. I stumble back from the force of the emotions.
The dragons! Tanwen, Nailah, Kaida, they’re all fighting!
“Lark?” Sterling reaches out to steady me, brow furrowed in concern. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”
I shake my head, heart pounding as I struggle to sort through the mental maelstrom and decipher what’s got thedragons in such an uproar. Something bad is happening. Something terrible. And we’re needed back at the palace immediately.
“It’s the drachen,” I manage to choke out, my voice rough with dread. “They’re attacking the palace! The dragons are fighting.”
“Shit.” Sterling’s eyes widen in alarm. “Let’s go.”
I nod grimly, already unfurling my wings in a snap of urgency. Sterling’s own silvery feathers catch the sunlight.
Reaching out through the bond, I try to connect more specifically with the dragons amid the psychic chaos. Chirean’s presence barrels to the forefront, his rage palpable and tinged with fierce protectiveness for his unhatched offspring. I feel his trumpeting challenge to the invaders, a rallying cry echoed by the other dragons of Tirene.
“The dragons are frantic. Chirean and Dame, especially. They fear for their eggs.”
Without another word, I launch myself skyward. Sterling matches me stroke for stroke. The wind whips my braid back as we arrow toward the palace at breakneck speed. Below, the patchwork landscape of fields, forests, and towns blurs by unnoticed.
My blood freezes from the thought of our friends, our family, in mortal danger.
I keep attempting to glean more details from the dragons as we fly, but it’s near impossible to untangle the specifics from the hurricane of their emotions, and the impressions I do get are fragmented and blood-soaked.
Drachen oozing over the battlements. Dragons flaming and tearing at their foe. Screams and smoke and chaos.
Infusing every ounce of speed and hope into my flight, I try to steady my thundering heart.
Hold on. We’re coming. Just hold on.
The dragons and the palace loom into view.
A scene of madness and mayhem.
Hundreds if not thousands of drachen ooze, undulate, and flap in the air above the spires. Their putrid forms pulse like grotesque black hearts as they dive down to attack.
Bursts of fire and smoke paint lurid streaks in the sky.
“Aim for the ones in the air!” I shout to Sterling over the wind. “Keep them away from the palace!”
