The first mate, along with the rest of the crew, trudged across the ice to a different building in the raven guest quarters, leaving Rafe very much alone. Well, aside from the two women glaring at him from the other side of the crystals. He cast a longing gaze at the blue skies overhead, then sighed. Patch was right. Whatever it was, he couldn’t put it off any longer.
“Brighty said you were looking for me?” he asked as he stepped through the door, keeping his focus on Captain Rokaro and not the photo’kine practically bouncing by her side.
“I was.”
“Well, here I am. What’s going on?”
“You should sit.”
Every muscle in his body tensed. “I’m fine.”
“Rafe, there’s something we need to tell you.” Captain Rokaro paused, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, the feathers of her copper wing rippling as her shoulders writhed. “Something you have a right to know.”
The gods.
Was it Lyana? Was it Xander? Had Captain heard something? Were they injured? His heart hammered against his ribs. With each second she delayed, the pounding only intensified, until Rafe could no longer hear anything except the drumming of his blood.
“Rafe…”
Brighty glanced at the captain, rolled her eyes, and stepped forward. “Rafe, we think you’re the King Born in Fire.”
“What?” All the air left his lungs as though he’d been punched in the gut.
“The King Born in Fire?” Brighty said slowly, as though talking to a child. “The king of prophecy? The one destined to save the world? We think you’re him.”
“Brighty, you can’t— Come on, Captain— I mean—” He broke off, shaking his head. Was this some sort of a joke? His lips spread in a smile as laughter spilled up his throat, loud against the heavy silence. They had to be kidding. This had to be some twisted game. Yet as he stared into their unflinchingly somber expressions, his mirth died. “You can’t be serious.”
“Deadly,” Captain Rokaro replied.
Rafe gulped. “But that’s ridiculous. I’m not a king. Gods alive, I’m as far from a king as anyone can get. I’m a bastard. I’m half-dragon. I’m not some hero from a storybook come to save the day.”
“That remains to be seen.”
“Rafe,” Brighty said, drawing his attention. For once in her life, there was no teasing grin on her lips or sarcastic retort on her tongue. Her voice churned with sympathy, an almost reverent edge to her tone. He wanted to puke. “We always thought the King Born in Fire would be an aethi’kine because the prophecy mentions healing, and they’re the most powerful mages in the world, but what if we read it wrong? I saw the queen stop that tidal wave from crashing over Da’Kin. She’s powerful enough on her own. She doesn’t need Malek. She doesn’t need another aethi’kine. But she might need you.”
Rafe staggered back.
It was everything he wanted to hear—that he was destined for more, that he had a purpose, that he and Lyana had been drawn together by forces outside their control.
But it wasn’t possible.
It couldn’t be real.
“Brighty, I—”
“You can speak to them, Rafe. You commanded a dragon to come to our aid. You saved a ship full of sailors by sending one away. They listen to you. They heed your orders. Dragons are the only creatures in the world that can kill an aethi’kine, the only creatures in the world that can prevent the queen from fulfilling the prophecy, and you can control them. Don’t you see what this means?”
The room began to spin. His thoughts flooded back to that night after the earthquake when Lyana had snuck into his room to heal his wings. Her golden magic had flooded his skin, and his silver power had risen to meet it, and they had crashed together, two opposite forces meeting as though made for one another.
I don’t think what we have is magic, Rafe, Lyana had said as her silken fingers trailed across his bare shoulders, her gaze burning his skin. At least, not the kind our ancestors feared. I think we were chosen—by Aethios, by Taetanos, by all the gods even. We were chosen for something more.
He’d wanted to believe her.
He’d wanted nothing more than to take her hand, kiss her lips, and soar into the night, following whatever path destiny had created for them. Then he’d remembered Xander, and the dream had fallen apart. But what if it was real?
What if they were meant for something more?
The two of them—together?
“You can keep her safe,” Brighty whispered as she placed her hand on his arm, something tender in the touch. He’d never spoken to her about his feelings, but she knew. She’d read the emotion on his face, the torture of wanting someone he could never have. Maybe it was a pain she herself understood. “You were made to protect her.”
Rafe froze.
Protect?
His spine straightened as a gasp fled his lips and he turned toward the wall, seeing not the blue skies and snowy landscape on the other side but a dark alley and a beast of shadow made to blend into the night. His nightmares flashed, one after another after another, visions of gore and slaughter. He’d never mentioned the creature to Brighty, nor to the captain or the crew. He hadn’t wanted to terrify them. Now, horror ran through his blood, turning his body cold.
Dragons weren’t the only beings capable of killing an aethi’kine.
Just the day before Rafe had been one good punch from ending the king, a man no one else could get close enough to touch. If he could, the shadow creature could. And if the shadow creature could, so could the six others just like him waiting to hatch.
“I have to go.”
Rafe spun for the door as Brighty reached for his hand. “Rafe, wait—”
“No, I have to go. I have to find her.”
A wind cut across the room, slamming into his wings and drawing him back.
“We didn’t tell you so you could storm off like a lovesick fool,” the captain reprimanded. “Did you forget your wings? What they look like in this world? How your presence might affect everything the queen has been trying to build?”
“You don’t understand,” Rafe shouted.
All day, he’d been sitting on those cliffs. All day, there had been a nagging sensation at the back of his mind, a gentle tug he couldn’t quite place. Brighty and the captain thought he’d been sulking, and in truth so had he. He’d felt off ever since they’d broken through the clouds, moving closer and closer to the House of Peace. From the memories, he’d thought. From the pain of his past.
Now, he realized the truth. Coming to the House of Peace hadn’t unsettled him. It was coming to the rift, coming closer to the eggs. The subtle pulse in the air hadn’t been a headache, but an awakening, the presence of another mind reaching out for his.
I’m here, I’m here, I’m here, the drumming seemed to say.
I’m awake.
I’m alive.
I’m here.
“The House of Paradise,” he murmured to himself, turning south toward the isle as the voice in his head grew louder. “It’s falling.”
“What?” Brighty and Captain Rokaro asked in unison.
“It’s falling!”
He ran, tearing through the guest quarters and emerging into the frozen landscape at a sprint before taking to the sky. Another of those creatures was about to hatch, and if he knew Lyana, she would be right there waiting when it did.
25
Lyana
The earthquake started at midnight. Lyana had known it was coming. All day, she’d felt the rattle in the air, the thrum of the rift, as though the spell was holding on for one final, gasping breath before it snapped. At the first shudder, she jolted out of bed. Xander was already awake, shoving his feet into his boots.
“This is it, Xander,” she said hastily as she looked for her shoes.
He froze. “You’re sure?”
“The isle is falling. Grab whatever you don’t want to lose, then go find Queen Zara and tell her to evacuate anyone still left in the city
. Get her assurance that when she arrives in the House of Peace, she’ll send letters and messengers to the rest of the isles, telling them what happened here and giving us her full support. I don’t know which house will fall next, so they all need to be ready. I’ll meet you back at the raven camp in the House of Song as soon as I can.”
“Lyana.” He took her by the arm, stilling her for a moment. “Come with me.”
Her heart softened. “You know I can’t.”
“Cassi told you what happened to the raven priests. Those creatures are dangerous. You don’t know—”
“I have to see for myself, Xander. I have to see what they are, or I’ll never know how to fight them. And I need to touch the rift. I need to at least try to use my magic to slow the spread, to do something.”
He stared at her for a moment, then nodded, as though he’d known the argument was futile before he even made it. She loved him for trying.
“I’ll be fine.” She squeezed his fingers. “Trust me.”
On her way to the sacred nest, she hastily stopped to warn her burgeoning army. They’d increased by four members during their time here, but their magic was still untested and timid. In this fight, they’d do more harm than good, so she told them to travel with Xander to the House of Song and wait for her there.
The palace was in chaos when she arrived. Most of the city had already been evacuated, but those who remained were clustered around the royal family. These halls, once foreign, were now familiar and no one tried to stop Lyana as she made her way into their most holy place. The priests and priestesses had, weeks before, pledged to remain with the stone until the very end, and none of her convincing could change their minds. By the time she arrived, they were already holding hands, chanting, and dancing around the floating orb which glowed emerald in the moonlight. They were determined not to abandon their god. Unless she could slow the isle’s fall, they’d be dead before dawn with no wings to save them.
“Let me through,” Lyana murmured as she pushed past them, magic already simmering at her fingertips. Rainbow swirls spiraled across her spirit vision, the power of the rift, growing dimmer and dimmer as the tremors intensified. The spell was fading quickly. Only minutes and the anchor would fail, but the egg hadn’t cracked yet.
Lyana pressed her hands to the god stone.
The spirit within shoved back.
She reeled, releasing her magic even as she stumbled away. Golden power sank into the egg, searching for a foothold, but there was none. The creature was a rock in a riverbed, and her magic flowed around it without breaking through.
Come on.
Green flares oozed from the orb and the ground lurched. Earth magic. The human lost somewhere inside the beast must have once been a geo’kine. Lyana reached for the spirit in the soil, trying to calm the tremors, but with the earthquake already rattling the isle, it was useless. Her wings held her upright even as half the priests and priestesses fell to their knees. Deep within the palace, someone screamed.
Come on.
She reached for the creature’s spirit again, but even with her magic, there was no way to command it, at least not for long. The briefest graze burned, its soul too hot to touch, like trying to hold a fire in her hand. It blazed. The dragon inside fought back, as though it knew she wanted to keep it caged, but the beast was too wild to tame.
Lyana switched tactics, focusing not on the egg vibrating ferociously in the air, but on the rainbow threads laced through it. The rift spell was nearly gone, the lingering traces of power hardly more than shimmers in the air, not the bright, buzzing weave she remembered from her last visit to the sacred nest. She dove into the magic. Like the creature, it slipped through her fingers, oil on water, too slippery to grasp.
How am I supposed to seal it if I can’t even hold it?
What am I supposed to do?
If Malek were here, he would know. Not for the first time, she wondered if she’d done the right thing in leaving him—if it was her stubborn streak, and not his, that would cause the end of the world.
Malek wouldn’t be here anyway. He abandoned this world a long time ago, but I won’t abandon them too.
The god stone dropped to the ground with a resounding thud.
The priests gasped.
“Step back!” Lyana ordered, using her magic to shove them away. They were humans, and their souls were like butter in her grasp, malleable and soft.
Go, go, she silently ordered, uncaring of their devotion to Mnesme and the protests spilling from their lips. Any moment, the creature would emerge, and they couldn’t be there when it did. Cassi had described the scene in the House of Whispers as pure slaughter, over before it had even begun. The same would not happen today. Go!
They scattered.
A crack appeared in the egg, fine at first then spreading like slow-moving lightning, fracturing across the shell, until snap. The stone split, falling open into two halves. Jade smoke oozed from the cavity, spilling across the floor like an earthen fog. From the center of the haze, the creature emerged, its leathery wings unfurling like a cocoon. Dark pine scales glistened over every inch of its body. The edges caught the light, sharp as knives. In place of fingers, it had claws, menacing and deadly. When it opened its eyes, turning toward her, there were no pupils, no white corners, nothing but deep, impenetrable green. A pink tongue darted through its lips, licking once as it stretched its head from side to side.
Lyana stepped back involuntarily.
The creature moved forward, each placement of its foot reverberating through the floor and making the walls of the sacred nest shake with renewed vigor. Rift magic crashed across the air, no longer set in place, struggling to remain connected to the anchor now on the move. If she could just keep the beast in the sacred nest, maybe that would give them more time. If she could just hold on to it for a moment.
The creature roared as she dug her magic beneath its skin, snapping its head toward her with new focus. Her heart burned. Fire bubbled through her veins, scorching her from the inside out. Hardly more than a second passed before she let go with a gasp, stumbling back as she clutched at her chest, surprised to find smooth skin instead of melted, swollen flesh. The beast was on her in a heartbeat. Its hand latched around her arm, the touch making her inhale sharply as its spirit penetrated deep as a blade, like a claw digging into her soul instead of her body. It pulled. Her power lurched, flooding down her arm and seeping through her pores against her will.
What?
Lyana jerked her arm, but the creature’s grip was relentless. A spark lit the corners of its eyes, gleaming almost like pleasure as her magic continued to sink beneath its scales, the golden aura completely absorbed by the green. In the world below, Malek had cautioned her not to rely on weapons, but Lyana had never quite been able to give them up, thank the gods. The creature was so consumed it didn’t notice as she gripped the dagger at her waist and slashed. It let go, more from shock than from pain, no cry upon its lips. Her blade had barely pierced the tough hide of its wrist, but the reprieve was all she needed.
Lyana reached for the spirit of the nearest tree and yanked, a crack splitting the air as the trunk broke in half. The wood slammed into the creature’s chest, tossing it backward. She flipped the tree end over end and twisted the branches around the beast like a cage. It sank a fist into the ground, and the soil crumbled into a cavernous ravine. Lyana launched into the sky as the ground beneath her gave out. The creature disappeared in the shadows of the crevice. Green shimmers flooded the air. Boulders of mud and rock shot from the opening, speeding toward her. Lyana batted them away, one after another, branches snapping as the grove took the brunt of the damage. Birds fled, squawking as they took to the sky. But there was nowhere to go. They were trapped in the hollowed-out core, same as she, unless…
High overhead, metal glinted in the starlight.
Lyana reached for the cage with her magic and yanked on the grating until she felt it pull free. The creature materialized from the shadows, soar
ing toward her, arm outstretched. A foot from her body, the metal slammed into the beast, sending it to the ground. The creature writhed beneath the bars, which held it flat against the dirt. Lyana landed by its side and pulled another dagger free, eying the soft flesh around its neck. The scales there were finer, more rounded, vulnerable. Arching her arm behind her head, she aimed the weapon down and—
A hand grabbed her around the throat.
No—not a hand. A claw with five sharp points dug into her flesh until she felt beads of blood drip down her neck and soil her collar. A creature dark as night stood before her, like a phantom appearing from thin air. Its eyes were fathomless black, its scales liquid ink. Everything about it promised death.
Lyana choked.
Her magic rushed from her spirit, useless as it fled into the creature’s skin. Her toes scraped along the floor as the beast drew her closer, cutting off air. Its mouth opened, fangs stark white against the ebony.
This is it, she thought, her vision spotting. This is how the world ends.
“Ana!” Rafe’s voice filled the sacred nest, quiet against the rumbling of the earthquake, surely a dream. “Ana!”
A blade flashed.
The creature wailed.
Lyana dropped to the ground as an inferno stormed to life before her.
26
Rafe
Flames seeped from Rafe’s wings to match the fury raging in his gut. Onyx blood dripped from the edge of his blade as he whirled the sword around for another attack. This time, the shadow beast caught the steel in its palm and held it steady. Shock poured from its mind, flooding Rafe’s, the confusion thick and overwhelming. It looked at the black fluid oozing between its scales, then back up.
Rafe dug his boot into the creature’s chest, pushing it away as the second one slowly rose from the ground, earthen magic pouring from its frame. They stared at each other for a beat, the same and yet different. He realized with perfect clarity what the shadow monster had been doing these past weeks—studying him, testing him, trying to figure out if he was friend or foe. Those obsidian eyes watched him now, calculating and intense.
The Dragon and the Queen (The Raven and the Dove Book 3) Page 18