Page 57 of The Dragon Queen

Part of the castle was set ablaze, the trees continuing to burn, and the place that had been rich with olive trees and flower beds had turned into a giant pyre. Dragons were visible circling above, but none of them had riders.

They are blocking Constantine’s escape.

A rush of relief swept through me, even greater than the relief I felt at the sight of Calista.Thank you.

They didn’t do it for you. They want Constantine, their king, to be free.

That means someone is still controlling his mind.

I will find him.Khazmuda approached the cliff and came in for a landing. The second we approached, the heat from the firesmade my body sweat under my armor, made my gloves lose their grip from the moisture inside. The darkest part of the night had passed, and now the sky had shifted from black to a deep blue. Dawn was just hours away.

I landed on my feet and yanked my gloves free from my hands before I marched to the courtyard.

Constantine was stuck on the ground, bloody and gashed from all the attacks from Khazmuda and the others, his beautiful scales running with a river of blood. On his back were Barron and his two sons, desperate to escape but unable to.

The army General Ezra led had arrived at the gates and was in the process of breaking it down.

It was over.

My army of the dead surrounded Constantine and made their attempts to stab and attack. Constantine spun in a circle to attack his next assailant, a fearsome dragon forced to fight like a rat stuck in a corner.

Barron yanked on the reins. “Fly!”

Constantine launched from the ground to the sky, but like birds that swooped down on prey, the other dragons dropped lower and slashed with their talons to keep Constantine close to the cliffs.

Constantine lost his balance when one of his wings was kicked, and he landed hard against the stone of the courtyard, the same place where he’d burned my kin. His fire was responsible for their death and their burned flesh, but I didn’t hold him accountable for what he’d been forced to do.

I only held Barron accountable.

Jairo had landed near one of the trees, and he nursed his broken arm. Kael was nearby and went to his brother to help him to his feet.

Barron went for the dragon. “Get up! Get us out of here, you worthless animal.”

I’d instructed the dead to make the stakes, but they’d only been able to make two in all the commotion. But one was all I needed. I unsheathed my blade as I approached, none of them aware that I’d arrived.

All the dragons roared overhead.

“Rooooaaaaaaarrrr!”

“Roooaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrr!”

“Rooooaaaarrrr!”

The power of the sound shook the cliffs and nearly toppled them into the sea. The dead banged their swords against their shields as I approached. The army broke through the gate with General Ezra in the lead, but they came to a halt when I raised my palm in the air to stop their progression.

Barron stumbled to his feet then realized I was there, and he did so with a definitive look of horror. The castle he’d taken burned behind him. The trees that had thrived for generations were nearly ash. All the dragons he’d enslaved were dead or free, and the dark allies he secured had died by the sword.

He was all that remained.

He looked at his sons before he moved toward me and unsheathed his blade.

Constantine didn’t rise again, either from exhaustion or a broken wing. His eyes opened and closed as he struggled to maintain consciousness.

In tune with the dead who banged their swords against their shields like drums, I did the same, slamming my fist against my chest plate, eyes locked on Barron as he drew close, my sword at my side.

Barron didn’t attack. He stopped several feet away, his sons on the ground behind him. His confidence had died long ago, and now all that remained was the scared dog about to be served his punishment. He carried his sword with exhaustion rather than strength. His shoulders dropped under the weight of his defeat.

I sheathed my blade as I came close, my fist banging harder against my chest, nearly denting it with the force. “I reclaim what is mine as King Talon Rothschild, King of the Southern Isles, the fifteenth of my name. Barron Augustus, for the treason you’ve committed against not only my kin, but King Constantine and his brethren, you and every one of your kin will burn.” I slammed my fist into my chest once more and screamed, “And you’ll burn last!”