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

by Kaitlyn Davis

  I nodded, closing my eyes as visions of fire and ash flickered, so many burning cities, so many screaming people. Then I looked at him again. "Them?"

  "Another flew through while I was there. I took to the sky and they followed, but I was faster through the thick terrain of the forest, spaces too narrow for their bodies to fit. I led them away then doubled back, getting to the egg just fast enough to make a rift back home and toss us both through."

  "We need to destroy it—"

  "No," he cut in, placing his hand gently over mine. "Not yet. I think I know what your husband intended to do with them now that I've felt one. His spatio'kine was going to use them as anchors, just as we do living people, for some sort of rift. I know not what, but I pray we can use them to close the one he left open."

  "How?"

  "I'm not sure. But I promise, Mira, somehow I'll find out."

  "I know you will," I said as I closed the distance between us and pulled him into my arms, letting him collapse against my chest as we held each other tight. I pressed my lips to his cheeks, his brow, his hair, murmuring over and over, "I know you will, my love. I know it."

  Hours later, we finally moved the egg to where the others remained hidden, stashing it away. We need to take advantage of the next few days, before people begin to suspect my husband's absence for exactly what it is. We will read as much as we can, diving into the most advanced practices of spatio'kine magic ever recorded, and someday Zavier will understand it.

  I know he will.

  I believe in him with everything I have.

  He'll save us.

  * * *

  Second Day of the Ninth Moon

  * * *

  Zavier and I have searched and searched and searched for information on using items as anchors for spatio'kine magic, but we've found nothing. There's got to be a way, something we can use to close the rift. We must keep looking, and we will.

  In the meantime, the rift grows.

  We spied on the spot, and instead of only two, there were at least two dozen of the beasts that we could see. The once-small door of the rift was now wide enough to easily fit a pair of them through, and the forest around them burned, the skies filling with smoke and ash. They came for their eggs, but now I fear they stay for the richness of our world, a paradise compared to the barren wasteland they left behind. The very earth grows black beneath them, devoid of life, as though they've sucked it into their skin the same way that beast absorbed Bastiant's magic. I fear for the spirit sewn into every fiber of our lands—I fear they will devour it.

  * * *

  Fourth Day of the Ninth Moon

  * * *

  The beasts have come to my city. I don't know how they found us, but they're here. Our mages took them down before too much damage was done, but the battle has only just begun. I know it in my soul.

  * * *

  Seventh Day of the Ninth Moon

  * * *

  Hummingbirds arrived this morning from two of our neighboring kingdoms. The beasts have attacked their cities as well.

  I wonder if they're drawn to the magic.

  I wonder if they consume it like food.

  I wonder a lot about the eggs stashed deep beneath this castle, pulsing with a power this world has never seen. Are they a beacon? Will they be our saving grace or our doom?

  * * *

  Tenth Day of the Ninth Moon

  * * *

  More beasts came, and more hummingbirds too.

  Unlike with humans, elemental magic seems to be the most effective against them—puncturing them with metal, burning them with light, dousing them in water. I believe they're drawn to all magic, but they don't absorb it the way they did my husband's power. Maybe they aren't smart enough to know the difference. Maybe animal instinct prevents them from knowing any better. Either way, the most powerful mages in our world, the aethi'kine kings and queens, have been rendered useless in the war to claim it. Spirit magic seems to lure them most of all, and I've already heard of another king falling.

  Zavier says the avians are planning to leave now that word of my husband's disappearance has spread. They're fleeing to another kingdom with an aethi'kine still in power, but he won't go with them. His mother begged, but she doesn’t understand. It's not about him choosing me. It's about him choosing the world over his own wants and his own desires. It's about his noble heart.

  He won’t leave the eggs.

  He's determined to figure out how to use them.

  * * *

  Sixteenth Day of the Ninth Moon

  * * *

  As I look outside, my city is burning. Twelve more beasts came in a pack, and there were heavy casualties as we tried to fight them. Some of our most powerful mages are gone—the best of them, killed; the worst of them, fled. Most who are left have no magic or a weak amount. When the beasts come back, I don't know how we'll stop them.

  * * *

  Twenty-First Day of the Ninth Moon

  * * *

  We haven’t heard from the other kingdoms in days—no hummingbirds carrying messages, no visitors, nothing. Zavier and I peered through spying windows, but it's hard to discern the truth. Other cities burn like ours. Did their mages go into hiding? Will that help or hurt? Half of the skies were free of avians, which makes me think too many of our aethi'kine monarchs attempted to battle the beasts and paid dearly.

  I'm slowly losing my best friend. Zavier doesn’t sleep. He hardly speaks. He spends all hours of the day in the library, and no one stops him, because the world has gone insane. The advisors are gone, the avians too. It's just the people outside the palace walls who stay, desperate for aid, though there is nothing I can do to help them.

  * * *

  Twenty-Third Day of the Ninth Moon

  * * *

  More beasts came. They reached the palace, burning the throne room just as my visions showed me. Zavier and I had no choice but to flee as the walls crumbled around us. We barely reached the eggs in time to push them through a rift before the walls caved in.

  Now I sit beside the spot where we first made love, the moonlight my only guide as I scrawl across this page, one precious bottle of ink left before my words run dry. Nearly a full moon cycle has passed since my husband opened the rift and the beasts first came. One moon cycle. Who would have thought the end of the world would be so swift? Hardly a blink in time? I see flashes of the future, and I know it will take far, far longer to save it.

  * * *

  Eighth Day of the Tenth Moon

  * * *

  We live on the run now, jumping through rifts from place to place, always on the edge of annihilation. The eggs are a beacon, something within them calling out to the beasts no matter what we do. I think it might be more than just magic—I think it's the creatures my husband made, alive in there, growing nearer and nearer to hatching with each passing day. They don't want to be around us. They know, somehow, that we mean them harm. But the beasts will protect them as their own. The beasts will keep them safe long enough for them to destroy us.

  * * *

  Seventeenth Day of the Tenth Moon

  * * *

  There is no good news. Every time we look to the other cities, they are drenched in fire. Mages have dispersed throughout the kingdoms. The avians stick to the high mountains and rugged terrains where the mages aren’t likely to travel, hoping to remain under the radar and safe. The beasts grow in numbers, more and more of them flooding the rift with each passing day. The forest is gone, nothing but ebony dirt beneath their claws, burned away, its spirit devoured. I begin to wonder if the world they came from was not the first they've wrecked, and if ours is just another in their path of destruction.

  * * *

  Twenty-Second Day of the Tenth Moon

  * * *

  We are running out of time.

  We are running out of time, and I know what I must do, though I hate it with every ounce of my being.

  The future calls.

  I must find the strength to let
it take me.

  * * *

  Twenty-Ninth Day of the Tenth Moon

  * * *

  This is my last entry for I don’t know how long, perhaps ever. I thought my hands would tremble. I thought I would be afraid. But I'm not. My head is clear. It's time. So many lives have been lost, so many homes destroyed. I owe it to these people to do what only I can do—to look through time for the answers.

  Zavier and I returned to our forest. Though the firebugs were gone, the stars still shone down upon our final hours together. It's hard to believe I have known him less than a year, when it feels as though I couldn't exist without him by my side, as though our souls are so entwined one would not survive without the other. We lay on the sand, every ounce of our bodies and spirits bared for the other to see. It was then, his hand on my cheek and his body above me, his hair falling in waves around his face and his hazel eyes fiercely set on mine, that my first vision came to life. The sight reassured me. We were always meant to be here in this moment together. We were destined for it, which meant somewhere out there, the aether had a plan, and someday, we would see.

  "You are my favorite future," I whispered later as I lay in his arms.

  "You are my forever," he answered, his strong hands gently caressing my skin. "And no matter how far you travel, I will always bring you back to me."

  I hope he can.

  I hope he will.

  My ink is running low, and I must save some, just in case his words hold true. I pray this is not the end of me, but if it is, I can see no better way to go than carrying the fate of my world in my heart. As soon as I put this quill down, I will sink into my magic and let it carry me away. I will venture into horizons unknown.

  Aether be with you.

  Goodbye.

  47

  Lyana

  With a gasp, Lyana jolted awake. The hairs on her arms stood. A current lit the air, simmering with power—the devouring might of the rift. The nothingness reached for her, all-encompassing and without end, devoid and barren, trying to pull her under. Heart pounding in her chest, she turned to the balcony just in time to see Rafe land on the stones, his flaming wings bright against the dark night. He pushed through the gauzy curtain with wide eyes and strode into her room. Flicking her fingers, she tamed the fire left in his wake. It was a testament to his panic that he’d let the fabric burn in the first place, his control a tenuous thing.

  “It’s happening.”

  “It can’t be.” She rose from the bed and rushed to him before putting her hand to his arm to still his trembling. “It’s only been two weeks since the earthquakes began in the House of Wisdom. It’s too soon.”

  “I know,” he said, his voice rough. “But it is. Somehow, it’s happening. I can feel the creature waking up. I can feel its mind unfurling. I can feel the others celebrating, the eager glee rushing through their spirits.”

  “But the owls, they’ve hardly evacuated. They won’t suspect—” Lyana broke off. A lightning bolt zipped down her chest, shocking her to her core as she realized the true source of Rafe’s fear. Not the end of the world, but the end of one of the few people in this world who mattered to him. “Xander.”

  “He’s still there.” Rafe’s voice was small. Fractures spread across his bright blue eyes, as though he were breaking right in front of her. “He’s still there, and I can’t go to him.”

  She wanted to tell him to leave, to fly, but the words caught in her throat. All Rafe had ever wanted was to set her free, and now she was the one holding him hostage. He had to stay—the world needed him to stay. She and Malek couldn’t fight those creatures on their own.

  “The owls live underground. What if— What if—”

  “Stop.” She took him by the hands. “Nothing is going to happen to Xander, do you hear me? I’ll catch the isle. I won’t let it sink into the sea. I’ll give him the time he needs to escape.”

  “What if there is no time?” His voice wavered as he turned toward the balcony, his features strained. “They’re excited. I can feel it. And when the light creature hatches, when it’s here—”

  “You’ll make time, Rafe. Gather the mages. Prepare them for battle. Sound the alarms. Do whatever you need to do, just give me as much time as you can.” She brought their cupped hands to her lips and kissed his fingers softly. “For Xander, for me, for the world, you’ll find a way.”

  He dropped his forehead to hers as a shudder passed through him. “Ana.”

  “Don’t,” she whispered, taking a moment to breathe in his presence, to memorize what it felt like to have him so close. “Don’t say goodbye.”

  “But—”

  “Not like this, Rafe.” She held his gaze across the narrow space between them. “Please, not like this. We’re going to win. You’re going to fight those monsters. I’m going to seal the rift. We’re going to save the world. And after we do, you can come find me and tell me all the things you want to say right now—not because it’s the end, but because it’s the beginning. Our beginning. Can you promise me that?”

  He lifted his hand to her face and ran his thumb across her lower lip, the fire in his eyes just as hot as the sparks igniting along her skin. “I promise.”

  Lyana shifted her face to the side and kissed his palm. The touch was supposed to be brief, but her mouth lingered, hungry for him. Rafe went still as she peppered a trail of kisses down the center of his hand, only stopping once she met the soft skin of his wrist. His scorching pulse drummed rapidly against her lips, making hers race to meet it. Fire lit his blood and her tongue darted out before she could stop it, stoking the flame. Rafe gasped, a strangled sound. With her tongue still against him, Lyana looked up. Passion filled his hooded gaze, the sort that had always lingered between them, daring her to come closer.

  She knew the world was ending.

  She knew every second was precious.

  But more than anything, she knew she would spend the rest of her life, however long it was, regretting this moment if she didn’t rise on her toes, close the distance between them, and taste him one last time.

  They crashed together as though fate itself had provided a little shove. Rafe growled into her mouth and slid his hand behind the back of her neck, pulling her closer. She moved her arms up his chest and dug her fingers into his hair, angling her face to the side to deepen their kiss. Bodies melded from chest to toe, they fit as though made for one another. His skin blazed. The fire along his wings flared. But it didn’t burn her. It stirred something inside her, thawing every hesitation. Warmth pooled in her belly, spreading out along her limbs until she tingled with the heat.

  A roar tore across the sky, a reminder of the stakes.

  “Go,” she mumbled against his lips, but Rafe wouldn’t. Not yet. His grip tightened as he reclaimed her mouth. The subtle pull on her braids was more pleasure than pain as he arched her neck up and devoured her protests. Lyana melted against him, the heat of his touch burning through her once more, stimulating every inch of her body. His tongue moved with the precision of a blade, and she met him strike for strike, hungry and demanding.

  Another roar pierced the heady drug of their passion.

  With a cry, Lyana pulled away.

  This time, Rafe let her.

  “Go,” she whispered, her voice one breath from breaking. Their panting filled the silence as he held her gaze for one more second, time stretching like the final note of a song, lingering even after it was over. She blinked, and he was gone.

  Tears stung her eyes, but she willed them away as she ran for the door, ignoring the scorching in her chest, no longer sweet but scathing. Fire burned the back of her throat, worsening every time she tried to draw breath, threatening to break free as a sob. By the time she threw open the door to Malek’s study, her heart seemed lost to the flames.

  “I felt it,” he said, not looking up from the papers strewn across his desk. She knew he’d be awake. “But it’s too soon.”

  “It’s not.”

  At her grave tone
, he lifted his head. “What?”

  “Rafe felt the beast awaken. It’s time.”

  “It can’t be—”

  “It is.”

  Malek jumped to his feet and raced across the room. She let him pull her to their usual spot and dropped beside him on the floor, her muscles giving out as a helplessness she couldn’t fight took over. They weren’t ready. Not yet. No matter what she’d told Rafe, in this room, with Malek, she stared the truth in the face. How many hours had they sat in this very position, funneling their magic into the rift? They’d made progress, but not enough. It took days to push the rift back what felt like the smallest inch, yet somehow they needed to close it, now, before all was lost.

  “Lyana!” Malek snapped. “Focus.”

  She was focused. For the first time, she was seeing things clearly. But only on the day when the sky does fall, will be revealed the one who will save you all. The one. Not the two. Not the king and queen. The one.

  They were going to fail. Maybe they were always meant to fail. They couldn’t close the rift. They didn’t know how. But in the little time they had left, before the creatures came to claim them, she could still fight to save the world—not its dirt and stones and sea, but its people, their hope the only thing more powerful than magic.

  “We need to help the House of Wisdom.”

  “There’s no time. We need to go to the rift—”

  “No, Malek.” Every wilted bone in her body turned to steel, hardening her back into the weapon she knew she was. Time and time again, she’d done as he’d asked. Now he would bend to her iron will. “I need to save the isle.”