Page 127 of Queen of Legends and Lies
I blink rapidly, startled by his vehemence. “I…thought that was my duty. As queen, aren’t I meant to protect?—”
“Protect, yes. But not to the point of shielding others from hard truths. Your friends, your allies, they deserve to stand at your side. Would you rob them of that choice? Force them to watch, helpless, while you suffer and sacrifice? How is that mercy? You’re hindering their free will.”
His words smash into me like a punch to the gut.
Unbidden, a memory surfaces.
Leesa and me bickering as children. After my bath, I came out to find she’d laid out a dress and shoes, even ribbons for my hair, to wear to that night’s dinner. I was so certain she meant to undermine me, to assert some older sisterly authority. She insisted she’d only been trying to help me get ready.
An image of Sterling’s face after he followed me to the cave comes next. His anger burned as he berated me for deciding alone to throw myself into danger.
Chagrin fills me as I recognize the pattern.
“You’re right.” I’m always assuming I must face my trials alone. But perhaps, in trying to spare my loved ones, I’ve only caused them pain. “I see that now. Forgive me, I’m still learning.”
“As are we all. Now listen, we have much to discuss…” In the pause, I imagine him leveling me with his fierce, godly gaze. “The prophecy, Lark. Methinks you’ve forgotten that as well.”
The smug satisfaction in his voice sets my teeth on edge.
But he’s not wrong. With everything that’s happened, the ancient words have slipped to the back of my mind. “It wasn’t at the forefront of my thoughts.”
He harumphs. “Recite it for me, if you please.”
Grinding my molars, I call up the verse that has haunted me since I first found it in the Royal Archives.“Childe of dragons, but no one’s childe. Born in the year of the huntress moon. Notof Tirene nor Aclaris, a dragoncaller, the first in generations, buried alive, unearthed only to die. Forged in fire, reborn from ash, her allegiance the key to king and kingdom. The lost heir will break the worlds and?—”
“Stop.”
I falter, blinking in confusion. Silence stretches between us.
I wait for him to speak, to explain, but he says nothing.
Frustration bubbles up inside me, and I toss my hands in the air. “Have you seen what’s going on out there? The kingdom’s in chaos, people are dying, and magic itself is unraveling. I’d say I’ve broken the world already.”
“You haven’t.”
That’s all he says. Curt, blunt, and entirely unhelpful.
I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to scream. Gods, why must they always speak in riddles? “Okay.” I try to rein in my temper. “Then tell me,enlightened one, what do I need to do?”
The temperature in the room drops by several degrees, and I shiver. Uh-oh. I don’t think the god appreciates my sarcasm.
“The merging of magics.” His clipped tone suggests that he’s trying his absolute best not to teach me a lesson. “You’ve experienced it, have you not?”
“Yes.” I nod, thinking back to those incredible moments. “Sterling and I, our fire and water. Agnar’s earth magic. Even Alannah’s air. Each time, it was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. The power, the potential…it was the most potent magic I’ve ever known. I haven’t merged with another fire user yet, but?—”
“Of course not. No one can hold that much of their own element without losing control. It would consume you. Anyhow, what you’ve achieved thus far, while impressive, is not enough. The prophecy demands more.”
I flinch at his words, a stab of inadequacy piercing my gut. So this god doesn’t believe I’m enough either. “Okay, fine. What would be enough? That’s why I’m here.”Not to be mocked andinsulted, but I manage to bite my tongue before speaking that last part out loud.
His glowing presence twitches ever so slightly. “Can you not count?”
No, Orin. I missed that day in school.“I don’t see what counting?—”
“How many dragons were in the courtyard when you fought the traitors?”
My brow furrows. What does that have to do with anything? “I don’t see what you’re getting at…”
“How many dragons, mortal?” he speaks slowly, like I’m a particularly dense child. “You named them. Surely, you can count that high, even on one hand.”
