Page 15 of Dreams and Dragon Wings
My pulse raced faster, picking up speed in time with my wings as I shot back into the air, earning another happy peal of laughter from the Jewel on my back.
“I will,”I promised, so confident, so sure—like the reckless boy I was.
But curses were meant to be broken, after all.
And for her sake, Iwouldbreak mine.
Chapter 5
Benevolence
Now
Icarelessly fling myself into the open sky, departing the council chamber while still in my human form. Wind and sun are all that greet me as I tumble into free fall.
Careening head over heels, I watch the Aerie unfurl all around me with its sky-scraping spires and floating islands. The Sky Garden I built in Aurelia’s name hangs suspended in the near distance.
The garden she will never see.
The wind whips by, slicking back my hair. Tugging at my clothes.
A bronze-scaled dragoness—Lady Constance—roars a question from the opposite side of the windcourt: “Are you well, Your Highness?”
But I pretend as if I do not hear her.
My eyes flutter closed. The world around me dims. Quiets.
And for a single blissful moment, I can almost pretend I am back in Briarhold, soaring through the air withNa’theryaon my back. I can almost pretend that I am… happy.
But then the moment passes.
My eyes flash back open, and I shift in the next moment, my wings flinging wide to slow my descent before I am ever in danger of falling to my death.
Brisa flutters into my peripheral vision, scowling. “I hate when you do that!”
I bare my fangs in my best approximation of a dry smile in this form. “I know.”
My wings cleave through the air, carrying me back into the heavens until Drakara sprawls beneath me like an ancient tapestry. In the distance to the west glimmers the Living Waters—the original source of all magic and the birthplace of the Corona Ignis. Beyond that lies the fairy circle.
And beyond that… the Door.
As if sensing the direction of my thoughts, Velda asks aloud, “Do you truly mean to don the Corona Ignis, Bene? Even without aTherya’kaito help you bear the burden? Even with the curse still upon you?”
“I do,” I rasp, reluctant. I am not yet ready to give up all hope.
But what other choice do I have?
For seventeen years, I’ve fought to break my curse—ever since the day I first realized there was something worth fighting for.
I’ve prayed to the Great Weaver. I’ve pleaded. I’ve tried everything I could think to do.
And what has come of all of it?Nothing. Nothing but heartbreak.
And death.
An irritated snarl rips from my throat. If I refuse to don the Corona Ignis, my uncle will invade the Aerie. He will bend all of Drakara to his will. He willwin.
If Idodon the Corona Ignis, I will have the strength to defeat my uncle. But for how long? How long will I have before I succumb to the madness I am cursed with? Even in defeat, he will still win.
