No sooner had the words left his mouth than a chain shot up from Archer’s feet. The bottom end wrapped around his waist as Rafe snatched the top piece and lifted the man into the air. A swirling storm of white and black ballooned across the northern edge of the city. Taking the most direct path, Rafe flew past three dragon fights and swerved around the palace, the warm glow of Lyana’s magic bringing a brief sense of peace among the chaos. Shoots of green darted by his face as Archer watched his back, redirecting any wayward arrows his own people volleyed toward him. By the time they returned to Brighty, sweat dripped down her brow. She didn’t spare them a glance, keeping her focus on the battle of light and shadow.
“Archer,” she said through gritted teeth, “do you remember what we did to that cryo’kine who attacked Jolt a few years back?”
“Hell, yes.”
“Good. You ready, Captain?”
“I’m ready.”
“Rafe, when I say so, you better put those swords you’re always carrying around to good use, or I might just have Archer stab you with them. All right, everyone—now!”
A blinding flash of white made Rafe’s vision spot. Just as quickly, the glow disappeared and the raging black-and-white storm winked out. The creature stood in the center of the street, its dark scales stark against the icy cityscape. One of its onyx wings dragged along the ground, the bones shattered from their earlier fall. Before it could run, chains shot through the air and wrapped around its hands and ankles. They tightened. It dropped to its knees, struggling with the binds. Captain ran across the snow. Shadows exploded from the creature's mouth, flowing out in a smoky plume that enveloped them whole. Only the subtle glow of Archer’s magic broke up the spreading wave of darkness. Rafe jumped forward, but Brighty held him back.
“Wait.”
“But Captain—”
“Wait,” she repeated more firmly.
Nothing happened.
The shadows spread until the darkness nearly spilled over his toes.
“Brighty—”
He broke off as the smoke abruptly vanished. Captain stood with her palms against the creature’s face, her fingers glowing yellow as they covered its nose and mouth. The shadow monster froze, its eyes wide as though it were in shock.
“Now!”
Brighty shoved him from behind and Rafe charged, his wings and feet propelling him across the snow. He gripped one of his swords with both hands, the leather soft and worn. Captain watched him approach, waiting until the blade arced over his shoulder before jerking out of the way. The creature inhaled sharply, its throat expanding as it gulped down air. Rafe slashed toward the mark. His sword flashed, catching the sunlight, and then a gush of black blood splattered into the sky as he lopped the creature’s head clear off.
Two down, he thought as the lifeless black scales collapsed, spilling ebony sludge across the snow. Five to go.
“How’d you do that?” Rafe asked, turning from the carnage as the remaining creatures wailed in the back of his thoughts.
“I stole the air from its lungs,” Captain explained as she wiped an onyx dollop from her cheek. The spots along her clothes wouldn’t be so easy to remove. “It’s a nasty little trick, and it can only be done from close range, but it’s effective. A normal human would’ve been dead long before your sword reached it.”
“Rafe!” The shrill edge to Brighty’s shout sent his heart racing. “We might have a problem…”
He spun. Over her shoulder, a firestorm sped toward the city, the bubbling orange blaze charging like the sun unleashed. But Brighty’s wide eyes were pointed in the other direction. He pivoted. A brilliant, billowing ball of yellow swept across the barren tundra. Two bonds he hadn’t even noticed burned brighter in the back of his mind. The fire creature and the air creature were here, which meant there was only one more left to hatch—the aethi’kine creature.
The light of the sun dimmed. Rafe looked up to find a haze creeping across previously clear skies. The upper layer of the mist was starting to swallow the House of Peace. They were running out of time.
“Go.” Captain met his gaze, the same realization flaring in her eyes. “We can handle them. Get to the queen.”
55
Lyana
The end was near. As the aethi’kine egg and the rift moved closer together, the world was healing. With every inch the isle dropped, the barren void receded, its poison shrinking beneath the deluge of power flowing through Lyana’s body, not all of it hers. The creature was helping her somehow, its magic passing through her spirit the same way it passed through the priests’ and priestesses’, using her as a conduit for an immeasurable source of life.
The spell was crumbling.
It wouldn’t be long now.
Through the creature, Lyana felt the other hatchlings, two more just arrived, two lost, their souls still some sort of moving anchor for a magic she couldn’t begin to understand. Beneath her palms, the surface of the egg rippled as the being within began to force its way out. The moment the rift returned to its natural spot, the creature would break free.
Lyana knew it.
And she knew exactly what to do.
No panic sped her heart. No fear constricted her throat. No hesitation clenched her gut. She was clear. This was what she’d been born to do. Did she want more time? Of course. Yet she’d lived long enough to explore not one but two worlds. She’d loved. She’d laughed. Her days had been full, her faith had been strong, and whatever came next, she believed her gods would see her through. They’d chosen her. They wouldn’t abandon her now.
A brief image of Malek in his final moments flashed.
His reddening skin. The boils. His charred fingers.
She refused to be afraid.
“Ana!”
Rafe’s voice pulled her from the magic. Golden light flooded the sacred nest, whipping through the trees like a godly wind. Leaves rustled. Branches snapped. There was no sign of the doves or the sky or the world beyond these crystal walls. Saturated power swirled around her in a storm. With gritted teeth, Rafe pumped his wings, taking one forceful step at a time, his feet skidding back even as he fought to move forward.
“I’m here!”
“Ana!”
He pushed with renewed vigor, moving until his face no longer hid behind a translucent golden sheen but was close enough for his blue eyes to pierce. They touched her straight to her soul. He was her partner. Her destiny. Her king. And he would do this for her, not because the world depended on it, but because she asked. For him, it had always been that simple.
“The air and fire creatures are here,” he called across the chaos, still struggling for another inch. “The mages are spread thin. I don’t know how long we can hold them.”
“Don’t,” she said softly.
He scrunched his brows. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t hold them, Rafe. Don’t let anyone else die. Let them come.”
“But, Ana—”
“Please, Rafe. Let them come.”
Realization passed over his features, leaving him slack-jawed. He looked up, then side to side, then at the egg hovering beneath her hands. A frown flitted across his lips and he shook his head. His wings dropped just enough to send him stumbling back before he regained his footing.
“Ana.”
“Rafe, listen—”
“You’re setting it free.” He spoke the words as though they were a foreign language, too unfamiliar to be believed. “It’s excited. It’s eager. It’s…helping you.”
“Rafe—”
“You can’t,” he urged, his muscles flexing as he stood his ground. “You can’t let that thing out into the world.”
“I’m not.”
“But—”
“I’m not,” she repeated more firmly. “I know what I have to do. Bring the creatures here. I need them close when the moment comes.”
This time, as his understanding dawned, not a fraction of him moved. Pain exploded in his spirit, strong enough to make her win
ce, even as he remained frightfully still. The throbbing pounded at her soul, the sort that couldn’t be healed. Heat burned in the back of her throat, a flaming knot. Her eyes stung. They looked at each other across the billowing aethi’kine power, part of the madness, yet removed in their own private world.
He didn’t argue.
He didn’t try to change her mind.
He didn’t hold her back.
The connection between them burned as bright as ever, two hearts and two minds formed into one. A king of fire. A queen of snow. Two equals bound by trust.
“Tell me,” he whispered.
So she did.
56
Rafe
The fog was thick enough to block out the sun when Rafe emerged from the palace, his heart like stone, his mind determined, his soul unflinching. Orange glows flared through the gray as dragons continued to blast fire across the skies. This deep in the mist, he found it impossible to tell who was winning. Wings and weapons flashed through the haze. Magic flared. The dragons pushed both pain and pleasure down the bond, while the creatures simmered with savage wildness. They fought with abandon to reach the aethi’kine leader calling them close, and now he was about to give them what they wanted.
Rafe flew toward the earth creature first, shouting when he got close to the geo’kines struggling to keep the beast contained, “The queen has a plan. Stop fighting. Release the creature and concentrate on the dragons. This will all be over soon.”
They listened.
He went to the water creature next, then the fire creature. Both times, he thought the crew might question his order—first Spout, then Pyro—but they didn’t. He was the King Born in Fire and they’d been told all their lives to heed his command.
The air creature was last.
When he told the aero’kines to let it be, Captain’s voice cut across the madness, her magic still flaring on the wind. “Have you lost your gods-damned mind?”
“The queen has a plan.”
“What plan?”
He landed beside her on the ice and put a hand to her shoulder, drawing her gaze as he spoke, no give in his tone. “The queen has a plan.”
She narrowed her eyes, concern flashing, but lowered her arms. In a blink, the air creature fled toward the palace. Rafe moved to follow, but Captain Rokaro took hold of his forearm. “What’s the plan, Rafe?”
“You’ll understand soon.”
“Rafe—”
Panic sharpened her tone, a fear he’d never heard in her voice before, but he snapped his wrist free. “I have to go.”
He took to the skies, where even if she’d wanted to, she couldn’t follow, at least not quickly enough to keep pace with his wings. A numb feeling settled on his heart as he raced for the palace. The creatures were already there. They’d broken their way inside. He could feel their spirits wrapped up in the aethi’kine magic tearing the sacred nest apart, the swirling vortex too thick to push their way through. They stopped trying. Lyana was no longer a concern. Instead, excitement lit their minds—their leader, the most powerful among them, was almost here.
“Rafe!”
He ignored the shout as he flew over the towering main door of the palace, now little more than shards of wood in a heap upon the ground, and into the entrance hall.
“Rafe!”
Though months had passed, as he approached the main atrium he could see it as it had been during the trials, clear as day, with Lyana upon the main dais, a vision in flowing ivory silks, metallic embroidery and jewels twinkling, her wings tucked demurely behind her back, her pearlescent feathers forming a mask to shroud her face. He remembered kneeling before her and taking her hand in his, the feel of her soft skin too familiar to ignore, the mischievous curve of her lips giving her away as he placed the coal upon her palm. The moment she crushed the rock to reveal a diamond, with Taetanos’s laughter ringing in his ears, his fate had been sealed. Yet he wouldn’t change it, any of it, except to carve out more time with her.
“Magic alive—Rafe!”
A beam of pure energy slammed into him from behind, sending him to the floor in surprise. He skidded across the mosaic tiles before coming to a stop beside the wreckage of the door to the sacred nest, now just another pile of broken wood. Brighty’s footsteps echoed loudly across the crystal stones in the entrance hall as she ran closer.
“Don’t do it, Rafe,” she called across the distance. “Whatever asinine thing you’re planning, don’t do it.”
He ignored her and pumped his wings to soar easily through the door. Another beam of light magic narrowly missed him as he flew deeper into the hall. The golden gate at the end was mangled, the metal door crushed in, and beyond there was nothing but a solid wall of swirling aethi’kine might. Somewhere at its center, Lyana battled alone.
That wouldn’t be her end.
It couldn’t be.
“Rafe!”
He anticipated the attack this time and dove to land in a roll along the floor. Before she could make another move, he jumped to his feet and slipped through the door, already calling upon the inferno constantly simmering deep in his lungs. Gripping the metal bars in his hands, Rafe finally met Brighty’s gaze. Flames barreled through his lips, shrouding her face in the angry blaze as the metal weakened and warped.
“Rafe! Rafe!”
He fused the mangled door back to its frame just in time for her to slam furiously into it. The barrier held. Brighty hissed when her fingers touched the bars and snatched her hands back, the metal too hot to touch.
“Don’t do this, Rafe,” she whispered, her voice uneven. “I don’t even know what you’re going to do, but I can tell from the look on your face I won’t like it. So please, don’t do it.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, a knot rising in his throat as he noticed the liquid pooling in her eyes. “But I have to.”
“Why? It’s the queen’s magic. It’s her fight. You’ve sacrificed enough.”
“Have I?” he asked, dark laughter upon his lips as he glanced over his shoulder, unable to see through the pulsing magic at his back, then back at Brighty. “Lyana is about to give everything she has to save the world. Don’t you think she deserves to know there’s at least one person in that world willing to give everything he has to save her?”
Brighty swallowed, for once at a loss for words. In that split second of silence, the ground shuddered. His heart dropped. The isle had reached the sea. His time was almost up.
“I have to go.”
“Rafe,” she said, not so much a plea as a surrender.
He didn’t say goodbye. He couldn’t. Besides, that wasn’t their style. Instead, he reached through the bars to wipe the tear from her cheek and offered her a lopsided grin. Then he turned and stepped into the storm.
Aethi’kine power rushed him from all sides.
Rafe forced his way through the madness, taking one labored step at a time. His wings beat, propelling him forward as he stumbled to keep his balance. Though he could see nothing through the churning golden haze, he knew exactly where to find her. The creature called to him through the bond, urging him closer. The other four were near. They moved as a unit, inch by inch, until the egg came into view. Though it still hung in midair, a crack ran up its center. In the empty space below, a brilliant white line pulsed, growing taller with each passing moment. The blue, green, red, and yellow creatures stood at each corner, circling Lyana. Rafe pushed past them, grinding his teeth as power slammed into his chest and he fought his way forward.
He wouldn’t leave her alone.
He refused to.
With a defiant yell, he crossed the distance between them and placed his hands over hers on the god stone. Her brilliant emerald eyes popped open in surprise.
“Rafe. What are you doing here? I told you to leave. I told you—”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“But—”
“You started this by saving my life. I’m going to finish it by saving yours.”
Lyan
a opened her mouth to challenge him, then paused, her brows falling as the fight left her. He’d done as she’d asked. Now it was her turn to let him fly free. This was his choice to make, and there was nowhere else he’d rather be. Rafe threaded their fingers together, creating a pattern of light and dark against the golden egg, two halves of one whole. Her braids swirled around her face. Her feathers fluttered in the invisible breeze. She’d always been as radiant as a queen, even in the damp dark of that long-ago cave, dressed in rags with a dusting of soot along her umber cheeks. His fate had been sealed the moment he’d woken to find her face across the fire, the sparkle of wonder in her gaze touching something deep within his soul, making him feel seen. Even now, she glittered.
More fractures splintered across the egg. The ivory glow by their feet intensified. The magic spinning around them sped.
“It’s almost time,” she whispered.
“I’m ready.”
A silver glow lit his hands as he brought his power to the surface. Golden sparks sank beneath his skin. They held on to each other in that sacred place, their magic dancing, their spirits joined, their bodies connected in every way possible.
The pressure in the room built.
The air grew too full to breathe.
Lyana rasped, her focus turning inward as she prepared for this one final move. If he could just take some of the burden, she might survive. The blinding shine of the rift pierced the egg as they merged. Rafe reached for the bonds in the back of his mind, throwing them wide open, removing all his guards as he clutched for the creatures’ souls.
Go, he thought.
Go.
Go.
Go.
The tension pulled taut.
All at once, it snapped. The stone broke open. Lyana grasped the aethi’kine creature with her magic, a burning cry upon her lips. He latched on to the others with his mind, using sheer will to overpower them. White and gold flashed. The magic imploded, caving in on itself. There was no time to run, no time to get away. The swirling storm of power collapsed, sucking them into the void.
The Dragon and the Queen (The Raven and the Dove Book 3) Page 40