The Dragon and the Queen (The Raven and the Dove Book 3)

by Kaitlyn Davis

  "Stop her! Stop her!"

  Lyana was reminded of her afternoons in Da'Kin as Malek parted the crowds of excited citizens with hardly any exertion at all. At first, she'd marveled at his skill. Now she understood that human spirits, especially magicless ones, were all too easy for her to control. Of course, in Da'Kin they'd been willing and watching her with veneration as Malek gently guided them aside. Here they were lunging for her throat. But she was no longer afraid—of using her magic, of showing it to the world, of being herself—and fearlessness was a power all its own.

  Lyana grinned when she stepped into the next room. The entire wall was lined with windows, and through them the location of the sacred nest became abundantly clear. It was in the courtyard, open to the elements yet shielded on all sides by the palace walls. The intricate metal cage arched in a towering dome, beneath which a peaceful grove lay, filled with trees and flowers and, most of all, birds. She stepped outside, lured by the sight and the sudden pounding of the god stone. It was as though it sensed her magic and wanted her near.

  A priestess stood waiting by the gate. Her intention had probably been to guard the entrance, but Lyana reached out with her power.

  Let me inside.

  The woman obeyed.

  Lyana stepped through the gate, forgetting the guards and the priestesses and the wager the moment her gaze landed on the subtle crimson glow sifting through the trees.

  The god stone.

  Ignoring decorum and throwing aside her unruffled ruse, she ran. Already, she could sense the fire magic burning inside the stone, a blaze that only grew as she neared. Just like the other two divine relics she'd beheld, it hung suspended in the air, exuding godly glory. The difference was in her. Unlike before, Lyana now sensed the power pulsing through the sacred nest—her first true sight of rift magic. A thousand rainbow strands ran through the stone in every direction, a power unlike anything she'd ever felt, a power she couldn't even begin to understand. Perhaps she should have been afraid or hesitant, but with Cassi's confession in her head, she threw caution to the wind. If they were eggs, she had to know. If they were beasts, she had to be prepared. One way or another, she needed the truth.

  Ignoring the subtle prickling on her skin, Lyana pressed her palms against the radiant ruby stone. Heat stole her breath as fire magic surrounded her. She lost herself to the power. An inferno blazed, but it didn’t burn. There was no pain. This was the pure, potent might of Erhea, the god of love, enveloping her in a divine embrace.

  Except it wasn't.

  No matter how much she wanted to believe, Lyana knew the truth. Her gods were real. Her faith was strong. But they weren't in these stones. They were watching from somewhere beyond her reach, guiding her from afar. Right now they whispered, It's time—time to rip off the blindfold and understand the real enemy she'd soon be facing.

  Lyana reached inside the stone with her magic.

  Something answered.

  Flames exploded within her chest and ignited along her veins, until every inch of her body felt on fire. The pain shocked her still, her nerves so frayed she couldn't move or run, couldn't even think to break free. The spirit was unlike any she'd ever touched, human but not, forged in a furnace and fortified by an inferno that would melt even Vesevios in its blaze. This was the power of dragon blood, and she cowered before it.

  "Lyana!"

  Was this what Malek had withstood when he’d grasped that dragon's spirit? Was this what now shared Rafe's soul? Her chest constricted. Her skin blazed. Her blood ran like lava through her veins.

  "Lyana!"

  The ground trembled and she wrenched her hands from the stone, stumbling back on unsteady feet until a comforting embrace steadied her.

  "Lyana," Xander murmured softly. "Are you—"

  "I'm all right.” She cleared the daze from her eyes as she returned to the real world and stifled her magic. He gripped her around the shoulders, keeping her upright until her legs found the strength to hold her weight. Concern filled his eyes, but the truth would have to wait until later. She turned her attention to the king staring at her in horrified awe. "When the gods speak, not every mortal has the strength to listen. They are speaking to me now, and they say the test is done."

  "What sorcery is this?" King Dominic demanded, his golden hair now disheveled from racing after her down the halls. "How did you hold back my men?"

  "The divinity of the gods."

  "I don't believe it."

  "You don't have to," Xander said. "But you do have to keep your word. The test is done, and we passed. Now, let's make good on our wager and return to the crowd waiting outside so you can tell your people exactly what we told you. The gods will it, so who are you to stand in their way?"

  "I should gut you," the king seethed.

  Xander simply shrugged. "You're welcome to try."

  Lyana tuned out the rest of the conversation as they made their way back through the palace. Xander was more than capable of handling the politics on his own. Her mind was still caught in the sacred nest, consumed by the god stone. Cassi had been right. They were eggs, and the creatures growing inside them were more powerful than any spirit Lyana had ever touched. They were the real enemy—and she had no idea how to stop them.

  She came to in the middle of the king’s speech, not entirely sure when they'd stepped back onto the front steps of the palace or how long her uncle had been speaking. The crowd listened raptly, and the fear rising from their souls had brought her back to the present. With her magic barely contained, she couldn't help but feel their panic and their fright. So, just as she had with the ravens, Lyana released a wave of her healing magic. The golden embers cascaded over the onlookers, soothing their spirits and calming their aches. With each passing moment, the tension eased. They listened. They trusted. And her magic helped them believe that somehow, she would make it okay.

  A few faces among the masses looked at her magic in mystified awe, as though they could see the glittering sparks and recognized them for what they were. After spending their lives in hiding, she had no doubt the mages would keep their observations silent. But as she took note of those few knowing looks, a new idea emerged. It would be risky and challenging, but when had that ever stopped her? If she succeeded, it would be worth it, because one thing was certain—against those creatures, she would need all the help she could get.

  8

  Cassi

  Cool detachment coursed through Cassi as she watched the ship transporting her body make port along the docks of Da'Kin. Two men carried her up from the depths of the interior, one holding her shoulders and the other her calves, leaving her wings to drag helplessly along the floor. It hardly mattered—she couldn't feel them.

  In a richly adorned boat nearby, Malek waited out of sight. The entrance was heavily guarded by his favorite mages, making it clear he was onboard. People watched as she was delivered into their hold, wondering who this mysterious woman was, to be treated with such honor. If they only knew the truth, they'd understand being close to the king wasn't as glorious as they imagined. She'd do anything to dive into her body and take to the sky, to leave him and all of this behind. Instead, she continued to float mindlessly along as she was deposited belowdecks. The men arranged her flailing limbs on the pillows across from him, then quietly took their leave.

  "Kasiandra." Malek sighed. "Are these dramatics really necessary?"

  Dramatics?

  The truth hit her so suddenly she would have laughed if it were possible. He thought she was sleeping. He thought she was being stubborn.

  The king rolled his head toward where her spirit hovered in the corner of the cabin, his stormy eyes darkening as a wave of blond hair fell over his brow. "You’re finally home after fifteen years, and this is how you greet me? Wake up so we can speak like adults."

  Oh, we're acting like adults now?

  A snort rifled through her thoughts, not reflected on her immobile lips. Malek had never wanted her to act like an adult—someone with a mind a
nd opinions of her own. When she followed his orders, she was mature. When she disobeyed, she was childish. Little did he realize standing up to him made her feel more adult than heeding any of his commands.

  "Kasiandra, must I do this myself?" He stood and crossed the room. "Kas—"

  Months ago, it would have made her heart stop to feel his real hands upon her flesh, but now it was Malek who paused as he gripped her shoulders. A wave of confusion passed over his features. Golden magic emanated from his palms. After a moment, he snapped his face toward her hovering spirit.

  "Who did this to you?"

  Concern softened his tone, but it just elicited questions. Was this a ruse? A trick to lure her back into trusting him again? Could it possibly be real? Therein lay the problem. She didn't know which Malek to believe in anymore—the boy who'd once filled her dreams with wonder or the man who'd turned her life into a nightmare. Could one person truly be both? And if not, who was the lie? She'd spent her entire life learning to tell half-truths, and still she couldn't decipher this one.

  Malek eased onto the cushions by her side, moving his hands to her cheeks and shutting his eyes. A shiver passed through her as she remembered how much she'd once yearned to have him so close, how many times she'd imagined a scene just like this. Now, though, the shiver was one of disgust as the magic around his fingers brightened.

  "This must be why Lyana sent you to me," he murmured, still deep in his power. "She doesn't know how to fix you."

  Her hope spiked at his implication.

  But I do.

  Truth? Lie? With him, she never knew.

  Malek eased back, sliding his fingers from her temples, and just like that, whatever vulnerability she thought she saw on his face vanished. The king returned, the gaze lifting toward her as opaque as the fog.

  "Come to me tonight and tell me what happened," he said, his voice like iron. "Lyana has stonewalled my attempts to communicate, but you can get through to her in a way I can't. I'd like to give you a message for her, and in return I'll do what I can to fix you."

  An order.

  An arrangement.

  A deal.

  She'd given fifteen years of her life in service to his cause, and still it wasn't enough. She'd given pieces of her soul, honest and good pieces she would never get back, and still he wanted more. But Cassi was tired of giving. For once, she wanted him to act out of the goodness she knew existed somewhere in his heart, expecting nothing in return.

  She forced her spirit through his head and used her magic to grab on to his thoughts for the briefest instant.

  No.

  Malek flung her from his mind, but the dark look in his eyes said he'd heard. "Kasiandra, I am the King Born in Fire, and you will do as I say."

  Not anymore, she thought, letting him make of her silence what he would.

  "Kasiandra."

  A slightly unhinged spark fired to life deep in his pupils, burning in a way that made her pause. In all the years she'd known him, he'd never lost control. But now she could almost see him teetering on the edge—the edge of what, she didn't know.

  "Kasiandra!"

  A knock sounded. "We're here, my liege."

  Gritting his teeth, Malek released a slow breath. His fists clenched and unclenched by his sides as he cracked a bone in his neck. Two steps later, he was across the room.

  "Take her to the dungeons," he said as he stepped through the door. "Leave her with the boy."

  Cassi watched him go, done with his commands, and remained with her body. Soldiers carried her from the boat, up into the castle, then down into its depths. The walls turned slick with moisture and the air thickened. Outside the halo of mage light, the halls were eerily dark. In the silence, every drip of water became a rushing river and every unseen scuff a spirit. This was a place people went to disappear. Malek's message was clear—give him what he wanted, or her body might be the next to slip away.

  Why? She sighed internally. Why must you be like this?

  Images of the shadow creature flitted across her thoughts. Before meeting with Malek, she'd been fully prepared to tell him what had happened to her in the sacred nest. He needed to know, if not for her sake then for the world's. But now stubborn refusal tightened her gut. She wanted to prove a point, perhaps the same point Lyana meant to prove by leaving—he needed to learn to bend or they would all break.

  If he came to her with an apology, with any sort of remorse, she would relent. But until then, he would live in his own darkness. Let him wait. Let him wallow. Let him wonder about her plans the way she had spent so much of her life wondering about his.

  "Cassi!"

  The name pulled her back. Elias sprang from the bed in the opposite corner of his cell and ran toward her body, which had been deposited on the cold stone floor. He was thinner than he’d been the last time she'd seen him, and his rich sepia skin was drawn and pale from too many days without the sun. His tan wings, though, were just as soft and comforting a sight as she remembered.

  "What did you do to her?" he yelled as he dropped to his knees beside her still form. "What did you do?"

  The resounding bang of the door slamming was his only response. Elias gathered her into his arms and carried her to the bed, then took the time to gently fold her speckled wings behind her back as he settled her on the lumpy mattress.

  "Oh, Cassi," he murmured, grief sharpening his tone. "What did they do to you?"

  The dove lifted her head onto his lap and brushed the damp hairs from her cheeks while she watched from her spot on the other side of the room. An unfamiliar burning sensation filled her spirit, hot enough to make her want to cry yet soothing enough to warm her soul. In some deep, hidden place, a thud echoed through her, as though the lost connection to her heart were trying to re-form. Memories of her former life flickered by—of days spent flying with Elias, Luka, and Lyana beneath crystal domes and nights filled dancing with them across glittering mosaics, of the hours spent beating each other in the training yards followed by the minutes spent laughing until they could no longer breathe. Luka had been the man to share her bed, but Elias had been the one to understand what living in the shade of royalty was like. He'd been a dear friend, and perhaps he still might be.

  "I'll get us out of this," he whispered roughly into the silence of their prison. "Somehow, Cassi, I swear I'll get us out of this."

  No, I will.

  She wasn't sure how or when, but eventually, she'd help Elias escape. He didn’t deserve to be here. He didn't deserve this terror. And after a lifetime of duplicity, she had a few tricks up her sleeve—with or without her body.

  Tonight, though, difficult as it was to pull herself away, she had more important duties to focus on. Instead of drifting deeper into the castle, Cassi forced her spirit through the thick stone walls and into the misty air above Da'Kin. Malek could wait for her all night if he pleased. She wasn't going to visit his rooms or his dreams. Instead, she ventured out in search of news to tell her queen.

  9

  Malek

  Relief washed through Malek as the dream around him shifted. This was his third visit from a dormi'kine tonight, and it had to be Kasiandra. She'd made him wait. She'd had her fun. But she was here. She—

  A sneer curled his lip as the scene solidified. Dark stone walls and damp gray skies filled his vision, lacking both the creativity and the finesse of the woman he sought.

  "My liege," a man's voice said.

  "What?" Malek snapped as he spun.

  His spy sank into a deep bow. "Apologies for the disturbance, but I thought you would want to hear my report posthaste."

  "Well…"

  If they'd been anywhere but in this specific dream, the man would have toppled from straightening so quickly. "Yes, of course, my liege. My ship is currently at port in Karthe. Not an hour ago, a trade ship docked next to us, nearly burned to a crisp from a dragon attack. They barely got away with their lives."

  "Not unheard of, in these waters."

  "Of course not
, my liege, but it's the manner of their escape that I think you’ll find of interest." The spy paused to swallow, his hesitation obvious, as though he was afraid to be the bearer of this news. "They said a man with dragon wings appeared suddenly through the fog and landed on their ship. He communicated with the beast somehow. They faced off, and within moments the dragon flew away."

  A frown thinned Malek's lips. "A man with dragon wings?"

  "That's what they say."

  "And do they say anything else?"

  "Not yet, but it's past dawn in Karthe, and I wouldn't be surprised to find the gambling halls ripe with rumors by this evening."

  Malek folded his hands behind his back to hide the way they clenched, keeping his face serene. "And did a ship by the name of The Wanderer also happen to dock in Karthe around the same time?"

  "Another ship anchored just outside the city. I believe they towed the burned ship to port, but I'm not sure of its captain."

  He would bet his life her name was Captain Audezia'd'Rokaro—the once-loyal leader of his best dragon-hunting ship, turned deserter by a common raven. The very thought made his blood boil. What pull did the boy have? Malek was the savior. He was the hero. He was the aethi'kine. So why did people keep abandoning him for a man with a power useless to everyone else? How could an invinci save the world? It was ludicrous, laughable even, though it made him want to scream.

  "Keep an eye out tonight," Malek ordered, his voice devoid of the emotions rifling through him. "I suspect Captain Rokaro or her crew will make an appearance in the city after sundown for supplies. The man with the dragon wings is a fugitive on their ship, and he is of extreme importance to me. My top priority is to see him returned to Da'Kin. If the moment presents itself to strike, do not hesitate. Use the remaining crew as leverage if necessary, and don’t worry about the use of force. The man is extremely difficult to kill."