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

by Kaitlyn Davis

  Go.

  Leave.

  Go.

  Leave.

  Back and forth they warred, a fight no one aside from him could see. The invisible combat would only last so long. They were getting closer…and closer…and—

  They were here.

  The water rippled, a pulse that grew larger as it approached. Whitecaps sloshed as the wave grew, as tall as a building—then twice that, maybe more. Nyomi sent her magic across the city, more a signal than anything else. Other streams of sapphire flecks rose to join it. The aura of sparkling blue crashed into the sea, holding back the rising tide. From deep within the murky water, a creature with cobalt scales burst forth, a cry upon its lips. Two serpentine shoots of water erupted from the surface and slammed into the outer edge of Da’Kin.

  A thunderous boom from the other side of the city stole Rafe’s attention. By the time he spun, nothing but dust clouds filled the fog. A moment later, another wooden building was blasted apart, green magic shimmering in the aftermath as the earthen creature ripped the city to shreds piece by piece. Already, the stones beneath him quaked as the air filled with subtle hints of magic. The king’s geo’kines fought to keep the castle steady.

  Where’s the shadow?

  Where is it?

  Rafe gripped the stones, their scratching against his palms keeping him grounded as he searched the mental connection.

  “There!” He pointed to the right. “Kal, there!”

  A beam of pure white light arched over the rooftops, followed by a wail. The mages could handle the other two creatures, but the shadow beast was different—fast and quiet, easy to overlook and as sneaky as the coming night, slipping across the sky unseen while all eyes were drawn to the vivid sunset. Rafe needed complete focus to stick with it.

  “There, again!”

  The photo’kine obliged.

  “Again!”

  This time, Rafe vaulted over the rim of the castle. Wings carving through the air, he dove for the black silhouette currently writhing in the light. The creature swerved to escape. Rafe caught it by the shoulders and dug his fingers into razor-sharp scales, not caring if they cut deep wounds into his fragile skin. They wrestled together in the sky, neither letting go. Claws scraped his biceps, eliciting a hiss of pain. The creature’s white teeth snapped with fury.

  “Kal!” he shouted. “Now!”

  His world went ivory. Rafe winced and closed his eyes, but it did little to stop the burn. Pure, potent energy bit into his skin. The monster thrashed in his arms, a cry of pain and frustration seeping from deep in its throat. Using the opening, Rafe swung the creature around and latched his arms around its chest, using its body as a shield. Kal’s magic barreled into them. He turned his face away, protecting his eyes as he felt his flesh melt beneath the piercing glow. This was far different from the diluted balls Brighty used to light dark passages or the subtle beams she sometimes bounced between her fingers. This was the sun brought down to earth. Even his newfound affinity for fire couldn’t save him from the burn.

  Still, whatever he felt, the shadow monster felt tenfold.

  Through the mental bond, Rafe could feel the creature’s pain, an all-consuming ache as light ate into darkness, stripping its very essence away.

  It’s working.

  The thought gave him the strength to keep fighting, to keep holding on despite the hurt. Invinci magic flowed through his veins, cooling the heat, but not fast enough. His fingers started to slip. The creature sensed the opening, jerking away. Rafe tightened his grip.

  It’s working. Come on, it’s working.

  A roar shattered his careful concentration. The photo’kine magic disappeared in a blink and the creature tore free of Rafe’s arms. He spun to find the castle engulfed in a bubbling cloud of flames as a dragon descended from the fog. Isaak stood atop the stones with his arms outstretched, red magic surging up his arms to block the fire. It wouldn’t be enough, not for everyone. Already, the acrid scent of burnt flesh carried on the wind. The mage had saved the king and queen, but in doing so, he’d left the rest to burn.

  The dragon gripped the tallest spire in its talons and ripped the stones apart with a showering spray. Another inferno spilled through its lips, swathing the surrounding wall in a blanket of smoldering orange. Mages jumped into the canals to escape the flames. Forgetting the shadow monster, Rafe sped across the distance.

  Leave. The command sped down the bond like an arrow toward a target. Leave!

  The dragon didn’t. It wouldn’t.

  Golden magic still poured from the open window in the middle of the castle, a beacon to draw hungry eyes, the potent scent of spirit making even Rafe’s stomach rumble. He ignored the base instinct. The dragon roared at him in warning, but he wasn’t afraid as the flames swept across the sky, surrounding him in a red-hot swarm. The fire sank into his wings and rolled harmlessly over his skin. Dragons couldn’t hurt him anymore.

  Leave!

  Rafe put his palms against simmering scales and sent the order directly into the beast’s skin. For some reason, with touch they couldn’t ignore him. They cowered. Pumping its wings, the dragon retreated into the mist.

  Heavy breaths spilled through Rafe’s lips as he hovered for a moment. All around the city screams rose. Waves swallowed buildings whole. Stones and wood ripped apart. Somewhere in the darkness, the shadow beast lurked. And already Rafe sensed another dragon coming on the breeze.

  They were losing.

  If he didn’t do something, they were going to fail.

  But what?

  A swiftly moving patch of darkness caught his eye. No time to think, Rafe raced for the monster, cutting it off at the pass as it made for Lyana. They slammed into each other just outside the balcony entrance, far too close for comfort. Without Kal’s light magic, it wouldn’t be so easy to keep the creature contained. Claws ripped down his arms, shredding flesh. Anger barreled into his thoughts. It was all Rafe could do to hold on, his body screaming at him for pushing too far. Even his invinci power couldn’t keep up with the injuries. Blood loss made his grip go weak. The demon kicked him in the chest, tearing free.

  An explosion of pain shocked him still.

  It’s not mine, Rafe realized, whipping his head to the side. It was one of the creatures. The shadow sensed it too, its head swiveling between the castle and the city, clearly torn. It had an opening, but the creatures were a unit somehow. After spending so much time in the spell together, hundreds of years incubating in the same magic, they cared more for each other than for a human desire like revenge. Those black eyes found Rafe’s, churning with an even deeper truth—time was on its side. In a few more weeks, there would be four of them, and what would the world do then?

  Dread dug into his chest like talons.

  The shadow beast fled and Rafe fell from the sky, collapsing onto the castle roof as his body finally gave out. He lifted his face just in time to see the three creatures disappearing into the fog together, the earthen one being carried aloft by the other two, its left wing bent and misshapen. He dropped his head back and closed his eyes. For a few minutes, he did nothing but breathe as silver magic coursed through him.

  Time, he thought. We’re running out of time.

  “I’m going, Malek.”

  “Lyana—”

  “Those people deserve our help, too. I’m going, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

  Rafe groaned and rolled to his feet as two familiar voices carried on the breeze. He already knew what they were arguing about. He’d expected it, which was why he’d taken those few precious moments to heal while he could. Two ivory wings appeared beneath him, catching the wind. Rafe leapt off the roof, ignoring his aching muscles, and raced after her.

  44

  Malek

  In all his years spent spying on the avians, Malek had been envious of many things—their endless food supply, their fruitful isles, their cloudless skies, their freedom. But he’d never craved flight, not in the way he did at that mo
ment, watching Lyana and Rafe soar away, her wings as white as snow, his rippling with fire, the pair of them cutting across the skies like prophecy brought to life.

  He’d never felt so weighed down, his heart sinking as though pulled by an anchor to the bottom of the sea. All around him, spirits mourned, reaching out in pain, pleading with him to be healed. His city burned. His people suffered.

  Did she really think he didn’t feel it?

  Did she really think he didn’t want to help them?

  Of course he did. But there was a difference between a want and a need. He wanted to heal everyone in Da’Kin. He needed to concentrate on the mages first, and the strongest ones at that, if they were to have any chance at fending off the next attack. When would she understand that? When would she see?

  Let them go, he thought viciously, a sneer working its way across his lips. Let them run off to help the masses. Let the people have their symbols of hope. And I’ll stay right here where I’ve always been, alone and unafraid to do what must be done.

  “My liege.” The voice of his fire mage cut through the silence.

  Malek abandoned the balcony and marched back inside. “Where are they?”

  “Follow me.”

  They ran through the castle halls as fast as their feet could carry them and emerged on the roof. Malek fought a cough, wincing as the scent of burnt flesh filled his nose. All around him, mages moaned. He went to Kal first, his chest tightening as he walked by Jacinta’s charred body to kneel beside the photo’kine. This wasn’t about who he cared for the most—it was about whose magic the world most required. And against the shadow creature, it was Kal’s, bar none.

  One by one, Malek healed his mages, moving from the roof to the rocks surrounding the castle to the wall and then beyond, to the garrisons stationed throughout the city, and finally, to the front line. The people didn’t cheer at the sight of him the way they had for Lyana as she walked among the wreckage, but he didn’t need their praise. The role of king was a thankless one, built of difficult decisions few would ever understand—not even, it seemed, his queen.

  “My liege.”

  Jacinta found him in his study hours later, long after the rest of the castle had gone to sleep. He leaned over a map of Da’Kin, searching the winding canals as though they held all the answers he craved: how to fight these monsters, how to seal the rift, how to carry out the prophecy before everything was lost.

  “Initial damage reports came back while I was gone,” he said, not looking up as she came to stand beside him, her attention also on the map. “At first light, I need you to lead the rebuilding efforts. The pipes were shattered, here and here and here, cutting off fresh water to nearly a third of the city. They need to be restored as quickly as possible. People can live without homes and with little food, but without water they won’t survive.”

  “Yes, my liege.”

  “I also want you to gather a team to work on crafting more fire shields. The mesh blanket the raven carries—every mage in the castle guard should have one on hand for the next time a dragon attacks. The work will be tedious, but worth the effort.”

  “Done, my liege.”

  “Good.”

  He expected her to leave as swiftly as she came, but she hesitated. Malek gave her his full attention. The planes of her face were as sharp as ever, the flat line of her ebony bangs against pale skin, the point of her chin, the angular cut of her cheekbones. Her spirit, however, wavered, flimsy and uncertain in a way his ferro’kine rarely was.

  “Jacinta?”

  She swallowed, her guard momentarily dropping to reveal the fear in her eyes. “Do you know what creature will come next?”

  There were only three elements and three isles left before the aethi’kine creature in the House of Peace emerged—fire in the House of Song, air in the House of Prey, or light in the House of Wisdom. Two of those they could handle. One, they couldn’t. When the light dragon awoke, it would be faster than the shadow creature, too fast maybe for his umbra’kines to catch, moving with the speed of light itself. He didn’t know how they would stop it from getting to him or Lyana, but they would. To save the world, they’d find a way.

  “No,” he answered honestly. “But whatever it is, we’ll fight it, the same way we always have, because we have no choice but to win.”

  “Of course.” Doubt flashed across her spirit, at odds with her firm response. It was the first time he’d ever felt her question their victory.

  “Have I ever led you astray, Jacinta?”

  “No, my liege.”

  “Then hear me now. The world will be saved because I will do whatever it takes to save it, the same way I’ve always done. If you believe in nothing else, believe in that. Now go, get some sleep. Your work begins again at dawn.”

  As he watched her leave, he thought, and not for the first time, how relieved he was that none of his mages could sense his heart the way he could theirs. If they did, they would know he was just as terrified as the rest of them, just as unsure. The truth was he had no idea what he was doing or who he even was anymore, let alone whether he would save the world. But he would never stop fighting.

  So while his queen slept peacefully in the arms of another man, her soul at ease in a way it had never been with him, Malek remained at his desk. He wrote orders and crafted plans, solving the problems at hand while trying to ignore the nagging question of what the future would bring.

  45

  Xander

  The last time Xander had flown down the grand entrance to the crystal palace, he’d been hiding—behind a mask, behind his brother, behind a glove. Now, he was laid bare. The king of a lost kingdom. The raven without a hand. The man whose most valuable possession was the conviction in his heart. Strange that he was less afraid than he’d ever been before.

  “King Lysander,” a dove called out in greeting as he flew into the central atrium of the domed structure. “They’re waiting for you.”

  Xander’s gaze slid over the messenger and swept across the sun-filled room. The mosaic floor sparkled with a reflection of the scene visible through the crystals overhead, as though the sky were both above and below, leaving the doves wrapped in their god’s loving arms. The space was empty now, but if he closed his eyes he could still see the platforms circling the outer edge, each one bathed in the colors of its house, a decadent display of might. The courtship trials seemed a lifetime ago. Had it truly only been a matter of months since Lyana had shocked them all and flown across the atrium to kneel before him? The thwack of his mask falling gracelessly to the floor still echoed across the shocked silence, loud within his memories. How, in such a short amount of time, had the prince who’d once cowered before them become the king from whom they all waited to hear?

  His mother would have been proud.

  The thought brought a slight smile to his lips as he finally turned toward the dove standing patiently by the entrance. “Please, show me where.”

  The man led him to the highest level of the palace, where a set of brilliant golden doors were being held open by two guards with ashen wings, then through them to a meeting room near the front of the royal chambers. The rest of the kings and queens were already there waiting. The room fell silent as he entered.

  “Apologies for the delay,” Xander said as he took his seat at the far end of the table where a wooden chair upholstered in black leather stood empty. The matching one to his left would remain that way. “I received an update from the queen.”

  The royals around him shifted audibly, the rustle of silks loud over the silence. The dove king was the first to speak, concern visible in his warm brown eyes. “Will she not be joining us?”

  “Unfortunately not.”

  Worried glances were exchanged across the table. Xander tried to ignore them as he brought a new round of lies to his lips, a cover story he and Cassi had worked on the night before. By the time she’d made it to Da’Kin, the city had been in shambles. The sector where the skryr lived had been blasted apart, le
aving the man’s whereabouts in question. Rafe and Lyana were both alive but frustrated, no closer to figuring out how to slow or stop the rift spell from unraveling. Cassi hadn’t even told her friend she was in the city when she visited her dreams. She’d been too worried her presence would only be a distraction.

  “Lyana managed to save the House of Flight from complete ruin, much the same as she did the House of Paradise. The isle still stands, surrounded by water now instead of air, and though Abaelon has suffered great damage, it will someday be home to the hummingbirds again.”

  King Axos and Queen Odehlia shared a glance, relief palpable in the space between them. With the way the queen’s arm shifted, Xander guessed she’d grabbed her mate’s hand under the table. It almost made him wish he could have someone there beside him, to share in the fear and the pain, but especially in the victories. Lyana, extraordinary as she was, would never be that woman. At least not to him.

  “And what of the remaining isles?” a sharp voice to his left asked.

  Xander turned toward the eagle king. “Vesevios gains strength at a speed even the gods had not predicted, so they will not release her from her prayers. We don’t know which isle will be next to fall, but whichever it is, we will be prepared.”

  “And when it’s this isle?” the man asked, not relenting so easily. He was, after all, a hunter through and through. “What will we do then? When there is nowhere left to run?”

  All eyes returned to Xander. Once, the very idea would have intimidated him. Now, he’d faced death, he’d faced a dragon, he’d faced betrayals so deep he thought he might not recover, he’d faced the end of everything he’d ever known—and still he’d survived. A few kings and queens with an inflated sense of self-worth no longer scared him. “If you think acting in the best interests of your people and moving them to the safest place possible is running, then I think you’ve been flying across your open plains chasing buffalo for too long.”