Oh, aether, no!
My hands tremble at the very thought. I can hardly write this down, but he said he found the final specimen, here in this city. The only color I didn’t see down in the shadows of that room was the gleaming gold of aethi'kine magic, the rock from my vision. But for those eggs to have our magic, to have human magic, it could only mean—
The boy.
The avian boy.
I'm nauseous at the very thought.
Bastiant wants to soul-join him to a beast.
40
Lyana
The edges of the rift stretched out like phantom fingers grabbing for more. Everything beyond was a barren void—not the sort formed by umbra’kine magic, marked by an absence of light, but something else, marked by the absence of life itself. There was no spirit for Lyana’s magic to latch on to, no glimmer of rainbow colors swirling in the abyss, and every time she reached with her golden power, it simply disappeared into the chasm, as though swallowed by the nothingness. Worse still, with each passing day since the first egg had hatched, the poison spread, as if the rift were now the same as the creatures it produced, set to slowly consume the world.
Malek’s magic merged with hers, poking and prodding at the boundary. He taught her and guided her, helping her center her power and stretch out her senses. They’d been at this for Lyana didn’t know how long—days, maybe weeks—yet they were no closer to solving the riddle. Part of her feared they never would.
A bloodcurdling roar pulled her back to Da’Kin.
Lyana jumped to her feet. Shedding her meditative state, she ran for the balcony, Malek not far behind. Fire burned in the distance. A bubbling cloud of orange burst through the fog, swallowing an entire city square in the blaze. Two onyx wings, each as wide as a ship was long, carved through the inferno. An arrow shimmering with flecks of ferro’kine power cut across the sky to strike the beast. Spouts of water rose from the sea to douse the flames. Red glitter pulled at the heat. Fear and panic swelled in spirits across the city, rising like a tide, ready to crash. But there was something else too, subtler and easier to miss—hope. Lyana followed that feeling, looking to the right as one by one, more and more people’s terror gave way to promise, the sensation spreading down an invisible line, as though following a path, and then she saw him.
Rafe soared over rooftops, his wings simmering with heat as he cut through the mist, a beacon even brighter than the dragon flames. As he raced by, spirits rose, one after another. She wished he could feel it, because he wouldn’t believe her if she told him how much the people of Da’Kin glowed under his presence. But they did. The golden lights of their souls shone brighter and brighter as he flew overhead, hurtling fearlessly toward the dragon.
The beast froze as he neared.
Rafe didn’t pause.
Arms held out, he slammed into the smoldering scales. Beneath his touch, the dragon retreated. A few pumps of its wings and it vanished, leaving the city behind. A cheer filled the air, not that Rafe noticed. He turned back toward the castle. Even from this distance, Lyana felt the grim determination flooding his spirit, and the exhaustion too.
How many beasts had he turned away since they’d arrived in Da’Kin? Five? Ten? And those were only the ones who made it close enough to cause damage. How many of them did he turn away without her knowing? How many minds was he living in all at once? How long could he keep this going?
“Lyana,” Malek said, drawing her back to his study. “The danger has passed, and that’s not our fight.”
He was right, as usual. She sighed. “They just keep coming.”
“As the rift widens, more dragons slip into our world.”
“I know.” She pulled herself from the balcony and stepped back into the room to face him. The deep purple bags under his eyes had faded slightly since her arrival, and his blond hair no longer hung in straggles. He was looking more and more like the composed king she remembered, cold and uncompromising. “But we both know it’s more than that.”
Malek’s lips flattened into a thin line as awareness darkened his eyes. In all her former time spent in Da’Kin, the dragons had never come for the city like this, not with the unyielding force they displayed now, and they both knew why. Just as Rafe sent the beasts away, those two hybrid creatures sent them barreling back, again and again and again, commanding them from afar. And it made Lyana question just how much say the dragons had ever had over their actions, or if maybe they’d been led to this world by guiding hands all along.
“The only answer is to seal the rift,” Malek finally said. “Before any more eggs hatch.”
“And how do we do that?” she asked, hating the desperation in her tone, yet unable to hide it. Her doubts were showing—about herself, about him, about this prophecy. “We can’t hold it. We can’t touch it. No matter what we do, our magic won’t stick. We’ve tried everything. We’ve—”
“What if we healed it?” he asked slowly.
She froze. “What?”
“When the House of Paradise fell, you said the only way you managed to slow the fall was by envisioning the land as something in need of healing.” He rubbed his chin, his eyes glazing over as he retreated into his thoughts. “What if the rift is the same way?”
Lyana stepped closer, intrigued. “How do you mean?”
“We’ve been trying to fix it from the inside out, by grabbing the rift itself and whatever hides within the void, but what if we need to approach it from the outside in, as though it’s a wound and our world is a body in need of healing? Instead of focusing on the rift, let’s focus on something we already know how to work with—the spirit of our world. Maybe we can use that to push against the tear and stop it from spreading. The difference is subtle, but—”
“It might be everything.” A grin spread on her lips, remembering him using those same words months before when teaching her about her magic. Back then, he had been telling her not to focus on the elements, but on the spirit around and within the elements. Maybe now the lesson was the same. Instead of forcing their magic into the rift, they needed to force the rift into their magic. They needed to fight defensively, a skill at which Lyana had never particularly excelled. “Let’s try it.”
They resumed their positions, sitting on the floor with legs crossed and facing each other. Lyana closed her eyes and sank into her power. The city and all its souls fell away, and the world dissolved into pure spirit. As if riding a current, she followed the path of Malek’s magic until they arrived at the rift. Instead of reaching for the nothingness, she pushed her power into the lingering bit of spirit hovering at its edge, the last remaining vestiges of her world ready to be swallowed by the void. Together, they focused their healing might, sending wave after wave of magic into the earth. This deep in the power, Lyana lost all sense of time or place. She had no idea how long they pushed, or how much magic they used, but at long last, her mind weary and her body pushed to its limit, she felt the darkness of the rift recede—not a lot, hardly at all, but it was something.
Malek snapped them back to the present. “We did it.”
She squeezed his fingers, her spirit soaring to match his. “We did.”
“It wasn’t fast enough.”
“No.”
“Or strong enough.”
“No.”
“Or permanent.”
“No,” Lyana agreed. Still, a smile tugged at her lips as she gave in to the optimism bubbling in her heart. “But it’s a start.”
He nodded, the grin on his lips making him look younger and handsomer than she could ever remember, as though all the storm clouds had briefly passed, and the weight on his shoulders had briefly lifted, revealing the man he might have been without them. “It’s a start.”
Her stomach rumbled, breaking the moment. His careful composure re-formed as he rolled to his feet and offered her a hand. Lyana took it, allowing him to help her. Outside, the sky was dark. Though it had felt like only minutes, hours had passed since the dragon attack.
&n
bsp; “Go,” he said, jutting his chin toward the door. “Eat something, sleep. We’ll start again in the morning.”
She gladly took the opening and retreated before the usual awkward air between them had the chance to descend. While absorbed in their magic or discussing the rift, they were fine. But if they sat too long in the real world, Lyana began to remember all the things he’d done, and he began to sense her disgust. It was easier to run. More cowardly, perhaps, than actually having the conversation, but what would that accomplish? She would yell. He wouldn’t apologize. They’d be right back where they started, with him wanting more than she was willing to give. For the sake of the world, they had to work together. So until it was saved, the rest could wait.
When she opened the door to her bedroom, a soft orange glow permeated the darkness. All thoughts of Malek fled. Rafe lay curled on her bed, his body trembling as he hugged his knees to his chest. Unintelligible groans spilled from his lips as he winced in his sleep, if one could call what he did sleeping. Lyana thought it seemed more like succumbing to inevitable exhaustion, his body forcing rest upon him no matter how hard he fought to remain awake. She only saw him at night, and rarely at that. He was always zipping across the skies, chasing enemies both seen and unseen, or perched on the rooftop, his mind a million miles away. But she was grateful that when he finally did collapse, he always managed to first find his way here.
She sidled up to him now, curling her feet beneath her as she leaned against the headboard and spread her wings around them in a cocoon, careful not to touch the subtle flames burning along his. As though sensing her presence, he rolled closer. Lyana guided his head onto her lap and ran her fingers through his hair as her magic sank beneath his skin.
“Shh,” she soothed, hating the grimace twisting his features. “I’m here.”
“Ana?” he murmured, still half-asleep.
“Sleep, Rafe. I’ll watch the skies. I’ll wake you if anything comes near.”
“They sent me visions.” He shivered beneath her touch. Deep grooves carved into his brow as his eyes squeezed more firmly shut, as though trying to stave off the memory. “They slaughtered a whole ship of mages tonight, one by one by one. First the ferro’kine, then the hydro’kine, then the—” He broke off with a jerk as his entire body spasmed on the bed. “There was so much blood. So much pain. And I couldn’t stop it.”
“No one could have stopped it, Rafe.”
“I could have, if I was there.” He blinked and shifted his head, his blue eyes finding hers across the darkness, bloodshot and wide with horror. “They’re baiting me. I know it. They want me to leave to give them the opening. They’re killing them because of me—”
“No, Rafe,” she murmured and cupped his cheek. “They’re killing mages because it’s what they do, and not even you could stop them. Go back to sleep, please. You need rest. And the visions won’t come while I’m here.”
He threaded his fingers through hers, holding on as if for dear life as his eyes slipped closed again. She ran her fingers down along his arm and across his back, then up into his hair, trying to calm him. Despite her own exhaustion, she dipped into her magic and wrapped it around him like a shield, so no foreign souls could push through. Eventually, his body fell still. Deep, even breaths lifted then lowered his chest. Lyana dropped her head back and stared into the fathomless fog visible through gently swaying curtains.
“I’ll keep you safe, Aleksander,” she whispered when she knew he wouldn’t hear, his true name rolling off her tongue with a weight that made her heart burn. “I’ll keep the monsters away. I promise.”
41
Cassi
It was eerie to see empty air above the city of Abaelon. Cassi had visited the home of the hummingbirds many times before in her dreams. Their lush gardens and vivid blue skies had always been punctuated by the rapid movement of wings. Now, stillness permeated the streets. Palm trees swayed in the breeze, their fronds ruffling, and water ran through the aqueducts that were still standing, though many had collapsed into rubble, but there were no people. The City of Life was deserted, and it brought a chill to the back of her neck she couldn’t quite shake.
Cassi landed in the palace courtyard, the scuffing of her boots loud. At long last, another soul appeared, zipping between the gleaming white columns. The hummingbird stopped before her and inclined his head in greeting.
“Welcome to the House of Flight,” he said. “What brings you?”
“I’m here to see King Lysander Taetanus of the House of Whispers. Please tell him Cassi Sky wishes to speak to him as soon as possible.”
“Very well.”
As quickly as he came, he vanished, leaving Cassi alone once more. She shifted on her feet, surveying the damage to the buildings around her. Cracks marred the pristine white marble of the palace façade, fissuring up the columns and across the decorative trim. The tiles beneath her feet were broken and uneven. An entire building on the southern edge of the courtyard had crumbled. The earthquakes were worsening. It was only a matter of time before the next creature broke free.
“Cassi!”
Her heart leapt into her throat at the sound of his voice, but she remembered herself and dipped her head in a bow. “King Lysander.”
He rolled his eyes, a slight grin on his lips. “Come on.”
Cassi bounded up the steps and took the arm he offered. As soon as they touched, a thrill shot down her spine. Nervous flutters swarmed her insides. They hadn’t seen each other in the flesh since the night the raven isle fell, and though she’d visited his dreams two more times since their drunken encounter, he hadn’t mentioned a thing. They’d kept their conversation strictly to business, at least outwardly. Inwardly, though, her thoughts spun with questions. Did he remember? Was he embarrassed? Worse, did he have regrets?
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here,” she said, keeping her voice low as they walked arm in arm down the vast halls of the hummingbird palace. There was no telling who might be listening. “I meant to come sooner, but, well, you know.”
“How’s the…situation in the House of Peace?”
Situation. She snorted. “I’m not sure my mother will ever forgive me.”
“That bad?”
“Let’s just say I solved the problem of how to get the guests from one place to another, and in the eyes of my mother and her crew, it was little more than slaughter.”
He laughed softly under his breath and shook his head. If he only knew. Thankfully, Luka had managed to find a few more empty houses in Sphaira to house Lyana’s growing army. For the avians, the solution was simple—they’d fly under cover of night and slip into the crystal buildings unseen. Her mother’s crew, however, had been a different story. Without wings, their trek across the barren tundra would have taken weeks, and out in the cold with limited supplies? Even with their magic, they never would have survived. Naturally, they’d been inclined to wipe their hands of this dying world above the clouds and return to the sea, especially now that some semblance of peace had been brokered with Malek—a temporary cease-fire, at the very least. But Lyana wanted them to keep training her mages, including the new recruits Cassi had managed to find among the refugees now living with the doves. The solution had been simple—a sled. There was only one problem. The only available source of wood was the ship her mother had attempted to camouflage beneath the snow.
The looks the crew had given her as the planks were stripped piece by piece could have slayed a dragon. Of course, Cassi had never been under the misguided notion that any of them actually liked her anyway. Brighty had made sure of that. The moment they’d met, the light mage had slapped her across the cheek, commenting, That’s for Rafe. Then she’d offered a handshake: And this is for Captain. The rest of the crew had been much the same, minus the sting. They accepted her presence because of her mother, but their loyalties lay with their friend.
“So they’ve been safely moved?” Xander asked, drawing her back. “The raven guest quarters are clear?”
“Oh, they’re gone all right,” she muttered. “Along with most of my sanity.” They’d used the sails to propel the sled across the vast icy landscape, making the trip in a handful of days. As soon as they’d reached Sphaira and snuck into the city with the help of shadow magic, she couldn’t have taken to the skies fast enough. “Anyway, that’s why I’m late.”
“Did you happen to check if—”
“The ravens started evacuating the House of Song? The first few groups have already arrived on the outer isle of the House of Peace, led by Helen. We got out just in time. The guest quarters are filling up quickly, but Luka is working on a way to create more shelters to keep everyone safe from the cold.”
“Thank you.” He released a heavy breath. “Any updates from the other front?”
“More of the same. Rafe is being Rafe, running himself ragged. Lyana spends every waking moment deep in…conversation with the gods. She’s getting closer to answers, but the process is slow.”
“And how are you?”
Cassi snapped her head to the side, surprised to find concern in his lavender eyes. It was in moments like this, ones he probably didn’t even notice, that his presence left her completely undone. Her throat went dry as her heart skipped a beat and she turned her face forward, fighting the blush threatening to crawl up her neck. No one ever asked her about herself. Not her mother. Not Lyana. Certainly not Rafe or Malek. She gave updates and she received new orders. She was a soldier. Yet Xander had a way of making her feel like a woman, seen in a way she’d never been seen before.
I’m better now that I’m here with you, she thought, not courageous enough to say the words out loud. “I’m alive.”
“I hope that’s not the current standard.”
“It’s more than some people can say.”
The Dragon and the Queen (The Raven and the Dove Book 3) Page 30