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And beneath it all, a current of dread.

A baby.

New life in the middle of all this chaos and danger. A child who will be my niece or nephew, who will bear the legacy of our complicated family, our magic, our royal blood.

A child whose safety might be threatened by this looming war with the gods.

I push away the fear and focus on the excitement. “I can’t believe it! I’m going to be an aunt! You’re going to be a mom!” Squealing, I embrace Leesa, holding her tight for several long moments before releasing her and repeating the gesture with Bastian. “Congratulations, I’m so happy for you both.”

When I pull back, my eyes are damp, but my resolve has only strengthened. This only solidifies my determination to figure everything out. To understand what the gods want, the reasons behind the scientist-priests’ actions, and the threat dangling over us all.

Leesa shakes her finger in my face. “Pregnancy doesn’t automatically turn me into a porcelain princess.”

I grab the appendage and yank it down. “But pregnancy does mean that you shouldn’t take any unnecessary risks when there are others who can instead. If I had to stay home to deal with royalty crap, you can stay home to grow a baby. The rest of us can go as soon as possible. We don’t have the luxury of time.”

Rafe and Helene appear disgruntled but begin gathering the most important maps and documents. Bastian presses a soft kiss to Leesa’s lips and murmurs something in her ear.

She nods while focusing on me, worry and pride mingling in her gaze. “Be careful. All of you.”

With effort, I manage a smile. “Aren’t I always?”

Her bark of laughter follows us as we head out to seek an ancient crypt located beneath the temple of a god who may or may not be our enemy, in search of secrets that could either save or damn us all.

Basically, just another day as Queen of Tirene.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Fire crawls up my arm like a possessive lover, eager and hot against my skin. The narrow streets of Dern press in around us in a maze of worn stone and whispered fears. We all wear plain cloaks to blend in and keep the night’s chill at bay. This city is almost as old as Tirene’s capital yet, despite its proximity, not nearly as well-built or maintained.

We landed in the market, the only area large enough to accommodate the dragons. Unfortunately, the place we’re heading to is nowhere close to the open, well-traveled routes of Tirene’s third-largest city. The location is closer to the river, where the sewers drain and the leather is cured.

And where criminals lurk behind every shadow, if I’m to believe my brother. Erring on the side of caution, I cup a small flame in my palm as we weave through the twilight.

Bastian walks a half step ahead, his form tense beneath his cloak, while Helene’s gait remains loose and her expression carefully blank. She wears the perfect diplomat’s mask even in this decidedly undiplomatic excursion.

“Stay close.” Bastian’s directive barely carries over the distant noises of night markets and taverns. “The temple district narrows ahead.”

Agnar nods as he scans our surroundings, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Since Leesa stayed back, I picked him up on the way out of town. Rafe trails me, managing to scowl and look alert at the same time. The streets twist and fold in on themselves, designed to confuse visitors and protect the sanctity of Cyphero’s domain. Only those who learn the secret ways can find his temples.

My fire flares without conscious thought. The flame doubles in size, morphing our shadows into grotesque elongated shapes against the weathered walls.

“Careful with that,” Helene hisses. “Unless you’re trying to announce our arrival to the entire district.”

I close my fingers a bit, willing the flame to shrink. The magic resists for half a heartbeat before grudgingly complying. “Sorry.”

My mind races. The fire shouldn’t push against my will like a living creature with its own desires.

With a start, I remember what Sterling told me weeks ago.

That his water answers differently now. Quicker. As if the element anticipates what he needs before Sterling does.

At the time, I nodded without really comprehending. Now, with my own element practically purring beneath my skin, I finally understand. This is what happens when you’re more in tune with your element. You develop not just more control, but a partnership with your magic.

“Here.” Bastian stops before an unassuming stone building. No grand columns or ornate statues mark Cyphero’s temple, just clean lines and perfect proportions. A temple devoted to precision and knowledge. “The entrance to the crypt should be inside, hidden beneath the main altar.”

When Rafe tests the door, it swings open without resistance. “Unlocked.” His eyebrows draw together. “Probably not a good sign.”

Great. Just what I hoped to hear.