Page 121 of Dreams and Dragon Wings
The illusion winks out in the next moment, leaving us standing in the very midst of an angry horde within Umbra Castle’s great hall. Bulging eyes glare at us from all sides. Sharp fangs click in agitation. I seek out my father within the crowd, where he stands next to Ghoul, looking uncertain, before I turn to face Velda, where she hovers—free—in the rafters of the room, hiding from hungry maws.
The thread of Mind allowing her to see and hear everything I see and hear still binds us together, burning bright to my eyes.
“That is the trouble with you, Malice,” she calls out, trailing silver sparkles as she warily descends. “You always think you are the most clever person in any room. But it was a terribly simple weave, really, echoing everything heard by theTherya’feywithin your illusion—”
“Silence!” Malice booms, cutting off myKavreth’vormid-sentence. Teeth bared, he whirls on the rest of the room.
Half the goblins screech and flinch back. The others stand firm, their hunched bodies vibrating with warning growls.
A disbelieving laugh escapes the dragon before me. “Do you think that I care what you think?” he asks, drawing in threads of Fire that smolder threateningly—like hot embers within his grasp. “Do you think I could not kill you all within mere moments if I wanted to?”
Steeling my resolve, emboldening my voice with a delicate weave of Air, I step forward and proclaim, “You will not threaten my people again.”
Silence descends over the great hall. A silence so profound that I am keenly aware of the flutter of my own pulse. The quickened cadence of my own breath.
Slowly, Malice swivels to face me, naught but amusement written over his features. He arches a dark eyebrow, inviting me to continue.
But I need no invitation.
“By your own words, you have ceded the Flora Vale to me,” I remind him, earning a chorus of frightened gasps from the goblins who look on. Leathery wings flutter nervously. The soft clacking of fangs resumes. “And I thank you for allowing my bloodless coup.”
Before he can speak again, I turn toward the goblins and say to them all, “I am Aurelia val’Anasi, daughter of Liora and Rowan val’Anasi. And Iamyour queen.”
My father’s face crumples with a medley of emotions I cannot even begin to name.
But I forge onward, wading out into the midst of them—these poor creatures.Myfallen people. They part before me like grass before the wind, eyes wide, fear palpable.
I seek to soothe that fear with a murmur of, “But unlike your previous tyrant, I ask for nothing of you in return. Nothing beyond this—that you will accept my humble gift.”
“What?” Malice’s voice rasps from somewhere behind me, that single word riddled with disbelief.
I ignore him and continue, raising my arms over my head. “I choose to give my gift back to the land of my mother and father, back to the land of my forefathers.” My glow flares brighter, and my people hiss, shielding their eyes from my brilliance.
Louder still, I cry out, “I give my gift to the Flora Va—”
All the air rushes from my lungs as a great weight crashes into my back, shattering the shield protecting me from all touch and all harm. Before I can process what is happening, I am airborne, flying across the room.
Too fast to stop.
Too fast to keep myself from slamming into the far wall of dark, cold stone.
Too fast to stop myself from crashing straight through it.
Chapter 40
Aurelia
Iscream and curl in on myself, fumbling a weave of Spirit into place just as I explode through the wall like a shooting star.
But my makeshift protection is not enough.
Pain lances through me like liquid fire. My back arches. My mouth opens in a scream that never comes.
Cold night air greets my skin. The ground rushes toward me. My mind panics, forgetting everything—how to weave, what to do.
I clench my eyes shut and brace myself, a whimper catching in my throat.
But the hard impact I expect with the dry earth never comes.
