Page 33 of Queen of Legends and Lies
Agnar doesn’t waste a moment.
He vaults into the air. With a few powerful strokes of his wings, he settles onto Kaida’s massive back.
Our dragons launch higher into the sky, cloaking us in the smoke.
And then we get the hells out of there.
We don’t slow down. We don’t speak. We don’t glance back.
I don’t even risk connecting with the dragons for fear that the drachen might pick up on my emotions, if that’s even possible. It’s not a risk I’m willing to take.
Half an hour later, my heart stops thundering, and I get my breathing under control. Slowly, like I’m easing the lid off a box of venomous snakes, I lower my dampening shields.
And I wait.
Nothing seems off. I don’t sense an abominable presence. Only Mygist’s and Kaida’s emotions. Anger. Relief. Resolve. Others that are so intertwined I can’t give them a name.
“That was something,” Agnar yells, his voice carrying despite the whipping wind.
“Something” doesn’t begin to cover it, but laughter bubbles up and spills out anyway, because what else is there to do? “We survived. And we made two hells of a team. Now let’s get to Emraldae Keep to warn them. Once we’re done at the capital, we have to get out of Tír Ríoga.”
“You’ve got a coronation to attend soon, lady. It’ll be here before you know it.” He throws the words over his shoulder, light as a feather. As if we weren’t just inches from death.
The stars pierce the dark night sky like scattered gemstones, oblivious to the turmoil below. Armies march, their torches painting russet streaks across the twilight. It’s almost beautiful from up here if I don’t think too hard about what this means.
“Faster, please,” I urge Mygist, his colossal form cutting a sleek silhouette against the sky.
We glide forward, the crisp air biting at my cheeks and tousling my hair into wild disarray.
And then, I see it.
A shadow against the night. Too large and too silent to be anything crafted by human hands. A dragon? A drachen? From this distance, I can’t tell.
The creature veers westward, disappearing as suddenly as it appeared.
My heart thrums a curious beat. “Did you see that?”
“Saw it.”
“Should we?—”
“Emraldae Keep. Then home.”
Agnar’s right. We don’t have time to go chasing shadows. We’ve had our fill of danger for the night.
Chapter Twelve
Hours later, I lean against the cool marble in the center of the palace just outside the throne room. Guards line the hall, waiting for the proper cue. My head’s spinning, and my entire body aches after fighting the corrupted army. Especially my bruised wings.
Though the healers worked wonders for my injuries, what I really need is rest. But I don’t have the luxury of time. I was already late to my own coronation, and the council had to postpone the event by several hours so I could bathe, visit the healers, and get ready. As tempting as it was, a nap wasn’t on the agenda.
Pretty certain the vicar would birth a baby dragon if I forced the council to wait any longer.
I adjust the skirt of my gown, mesmerized as the silvery gossamer material cascades to the floor like liquid moonlight. Thousands of tiny gemstones are sewn into the fabric, twinkling like stars in the night sky.
With each movement, the dress glimmers with shades of silver and icy blue. The bodice is fitted, and the neckline dips just below my collarbone. Sheer sleeves stop a few inches belowmy elbows, masking the purples and blues of the bruise on my left bicep.
Mother always said that armor comes in all different varieties. She believed firmly in the power of dressing the part.
