“The circlet of the Golden Horde,” Brin says from behind us. “Every DragonKin queen has worn this for as long as the histories have been recorded.”
I stare at it. Even now, I can see it atop my mother’s head, nestled in her golden hair, the oval gem shining from every facet. The green of her eyes. The green of mine.
“She wore it whenever she left the royal chambers.” I reach out and run my fingers along it. Reverently. Fully aware of the pain that rips through me as so many memories flood back. The last one most of all, the way she begged me to save my father insteadof her. Her sword lies on the stones, the hilt pure gold, the blade the finest silver. Just as much a work of art as the circlet.
“Don’t go to that dark place,” Fyan meets my gaze. “You know none of us blame you.”
“And you shouldn’t blame yourself,” Rivon adds.
I can’t form any words in answer, not when sorrow clogs my throat, my mind.
“Vander.” Larellin tiptoes along the bond, her words like the stroke of a warm spring breeze. “Youmustlet it go. For you. For your brothers. For me.”
“She wouldn’t have wanted you to suffer, Vander,” Faraday says. “I don’t remember her as well as you do. She’s just a … a bright spot in my mind, in my memory. Like I was lucky enough to brush against the sun and feel its perfect warmth, that’s what she is to me. But I know she wouldn’t blame you. None of us ever have.”
“She would want?—”
“She wanted you to save your worthless father.”
I’m on my feet in a heartbeat. Pushing Larellin behind me, I spread my wings to protect her.
“You failed then, and you’ll fail now.” Sela’s venomous voice winds through the palace. “The crown is mine.”
Rivon eases to the side, his shadows engulfing him as he disappears. Fyan and Faraday take up defensive positions on either side of me, their wings unfurled.
“Vander?” Larellin’s voice is small, afraid.
“She won’t claim you.” I grit my teeth. “I swear it.”
“The mortal?” Sela laughs. “She’ll be mine too. All of her. I’ll feast on her atop your dead body. How’s that sound?”
Larellin’s heartbeat pounds, the bond alive with her terror.
Sela’s voice comes from everywhere, some sorcery amplifying it. Underneath the sound, I hear footsteps and the flap of wings. She’s brought what’s left of her army.
“Hide!” I yell down the bond. “In the bedroom, there’s a secret compartment in the back right corner. Press on the wall panel and it should pop open. Hide therenow. I will come for you when this is over.”
“Vander, don’t leave me.”
“I must, my treasure.” I whirl and kiss her hard. “But I swear I won’t fail you.”
She kisses me back, tears wetting her cheeks. “I know.”
“Go.” I push open the bedchamber doors and ease her inside, then close them behind her.
“Here we are again.” Sela strides into view, at least four of her warriors behind her. “Déjà vu. I love it.” She grins.
“How’s that wing?” I taunt. “I wonder if perhaps it served as a snack for the garthook when it fell to the ground.”
“I don’t need two wings to defeat a pest like you.”
“It’s a front,” I tell my brothers. “Look at her. She’s weak.” Sela’s face is drawn, her skin pallid. Losing a wing is like a mortal losing a limb. But worse, far worse. Our wings are our magic, our link to the sky.
“Even a dying snake can still strike,” Rivon calls from the shadows. “Be wary.”
Sela stops a dozen paces away, her gaze dropping to my mother’s diadem. “Memories. Sweet, sweet memories. Gods, I’d wanted to cut her throat for ages. All those lectures about making the DragonLands a place of peace and plenty for all who seek to live within its borders.” She bares her fangs. “The DragonLands are for the strong. Not mongrels.” She flicks a look of disdain at Brin. “Not weak bloodlines.” She eyes me. “These lands are mine.” She grins again. “Just like the mortal hiding behind you. She’s mine, too.”
“You won’t touch her.” I reach down and take my mother’s sword, the grip singing against my skin. It feelsright. As if it’s been waiting for me.
