Page 62 of Burn of the Everflame

Zalaric’s eyes cracked open.

“Zal!” Taran cried. “Zal, can you hear me?”

Zalaric looked around groggily, taking everything in. “How . . . why . . . ?”

“You were stabbed. I think Queenie healed you.”

“Yes, I can see that. But why am I lying in dirt?” His elegant features scrunched with disgust. “Do you know how much this silk costs?”

Taran blinked. “You’re worried about your robes?”

“You may be used to rolling in the mud like a pig, Taran Corbois, but I am most certainly not.”

Perhaps not much had changed, after all.

“You healed godstone,” Luther said to me quietly. “Did you use Fortos magic?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “I don’t think so.”

He helped me to my feet. Zalaric swatted at a fussing Taran, who gingerly helped him do the same. The crowd around us parted as Alixe ran through.

“Diem—you’re back.” She gawked at my appearance for a moment, but when I met her with a steely stare, her posture stiffened. She pressed a fist to her chest and bowed excessively low. “Welcome home, Your Majesty.”

I looked around, assessing my surroundings in full. The palace walls had been damaged, the front gates melted away. Royals were beginning to peek out broken windows and hesitantly emerge from the front door. In the distance, plumes of smoke billowed from the blackened skyline of Lumnos City.

I turned to Alixe. “High General, I’m taking back my throne. Are you with me?”

She nodded sharply. “I’ve always been.”

“Good. Gather the wounded, and find out if the army brought any Descended healers. Call in the healers from Mortal City, too. They can make a poultice for the godstone wounds.”

“They may not be in Mortal City,” Luther cut in. “The Crowns put the mortals in the dungeon.”

“They did what?” I snapped.

“Not the healers,” Alixe said quickly. “We were able to spare them.” Red crept up her cheeks. “I told the Crowns they were needed to treat sick children in Lumnos City.”

My temper boiled. “Empty the dungeon immediately. I’m going to need it for my prisoners.” I stalked toward the stony dome I’d crafted, Luther close at my heels. “Are my mother and brother in the dungeon, too?”

“No,” he said. “They’ve been with me. We only arrived back in Lumnos this morning.”

I frowned at him. “You’ve been gone this whole time? What were you doing?”

His expression hardened. “Building an army.”

I stopped at the edge of the rift I’d torn through the soil and raised a palm, bringing the cobblestone dome down with a thunderous crash. The Crowns’ heads whipped around in a frenzied search for Ophiucae. Their relief at his absence faded fast as their focus turned to me.

I spread my arms wide and glared. “Did you miss me?”

Doriel and Obaneryn gaped, while the Arboros Queen—ex-Queen—avoided my eyes. The former Faunos Queen was unconscious, maybe dead. Only the prick from Ignios dared to speak.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” he wheezed.

“Funny, I was just thinking the same about you.” I eyed the telltale black veins coating his skin. “Looks like that cure from Sophos didn’t work out.”

“How did you get off the island?” Obaneryn asked. His blue-green gaze hovered on my Crown. “And what is that?”

I shrugged. “Family heirloom.”