The lich has found its next victim to possess.
Zenevieve seizes my arm. “While the lich was possessing you, Nilak’s eyes and fire turned green. Zabriel has been possessed, but it’s not Zabriel that the lich wants. It called me weak and talentless. It wants a magic user. It wants Isavelle.”
Zenevieve and I stare at each other in horror.
“You’re right. Zabriel will be with Sylvi because that’s where Isavelle will go. The queen is running straight to the lich. We have to stop her.”
Zenevieve and I turn and run up to the castle, both of us calling out for the queen. Isavelle can’t hear us over the din of battle and people screaming and crying. She heads for the royal rooms. We’re joined by the queen’s bodyguards, Fiala and Dusan, and we race up the stairs behind her, Zenevieve informing them of what we have guessed.
“We have to stop her,” Dusan pants as we race along the corridor, and he yells, “My queen, do not go in that room.”
But we’re too late. We see the flick of Isavelle’s cloak as she disappears into the bedroom she shares with the king, and it slams closed behind her. The four of us beat upon the doors, but they are as hard as stone and magically sealed against us. I press my ear to the wood and try to hear what is being said within, but there’s only silence.
Several minutes later, we’re still battering ineffectually on the door when it suddenly swings open. The baby is crying. Outside the open windows, Scourge is roaring. King Zabriel’s eyes are a sickly, flaming green.
Isavelle, pale with fright, calls to us, “Take our baby out of here,” and she runs for the terrace.
Fiala goes for the baby, and I lunge for the queen. My fingers snatch at her sleeve as she turns toward the terrace and runs toward Scourge, not understanding that Scourge is also possessed.
“No, no, no,no—” I reach for her, but I’m too late to snatch her back.
Fiala and Dusan have already backed out of the room. I grasp Zenevieve and push her behind me. The lich in Zabriel’s body is standing just a few feet away. It raises Zabriel’s hand, grinning at us, and an invisible pulse of power sends us flying back against the wall.
By the time we’ve picked ourselves up and I’ve checked that Zenevieve isn’t gravely injured, Zabriel has disappeared out the window and Scourge has taken both the king and queen into the skies.
“The lich has them both,” Zenevieve cries. “Do you think it’s doing to them what it did to us?”
I have no doubt that the lich is going to use every last drop of its strength to bend Isavelle to its will, if it’s her it truly wants.
“Go after them, dragonmaster,” Fiala calls to me. “We will guard the princess no matter what.”
I take one last look at the wingrunners’ resolute expressions and Princess Sylvi’s kicking feet as she’s cradled in Fiala’s arms, and I seize Zenevieve’s hand. “Guard her well. Nilak will find the king and queen.Aash’lin, let’s go.”
But when we reach Nilak, Scourge, the lich, and Queen Isavelle are nowhere in sight. I turn on the spot as I stare at the skies, cursing loudly. Nilak didn’t see which way they went. The black dragon disappeared into the darkness, and she can sense Scourge nowhere near the castle.
“Stesha, look.” Zenevieve is pointing at the sky toward the east. I expect to see a deluge of green flames, or some other sign of the lich. Instead, there’s an ear-shattering roar, and illuminated by the flames of the burning city, an enormous yellow dragon soars low over Lenhale, flanked by a scarlet Alpha and two smaller yellow females.
“Is that Auryn, Ragdyn, Aurissa, and Auriana?” Zenevieve asks.
It is those very dragons, and they’re carrying their riders. My stomach sinks. What perfect timing. “An attack from the wild flare. That’s all we need right now.”
While the other three dragons remain in the air, Auryn circles downward and alights on the dragongrounds. He bares his teeth in a ferocious roar that makes him tremble right to the tips of his wings. He’s so loud that I can barely think.
Atop the mighty yellow dragon, Kane stares down at me through his stringy blond hair. His gaze is hard and his lip curls in dislike, but he greets me with a small, tight nod.
I raise my voice and call to Kane, “What do you want?”
“The death of the Shadow King,” he shouts back. “I received word from the other witchfinders that he has come to Lenhale. Where is he?”
“He has possessed King Zabriel and Scourge and kidnapped the queen.”
Kane mutters a curse and looks around. He can’t see or sense them either, and he turns back to us. “He won’t want the king, for he has no magic. He wants the queen.”
“We figured as much,” Zenevieve calls to him. “Isavelle is a witch and an Omega, and she will fight harder than anyone to protect what’s hers.”
“I am well aware of what an Omega witch can do.” Firelight is burning in Kane’s eyes as he gazes around. “We had better ensure that the queen has a home to return to, if she survives the Shadow King.”
Auryn grunts and snarls, and the enormous yellow dragon takes to the skies. He’s joined by the dragons of his flare, and they head for the southern gates, presumably to deal with the attacking undead. I watch them in disbelief. Our flare’s Alpha isgone, but the wild flare’s Alpha has come to protect the city. I wish Destrin were still around to see this. He’d never believe it.
