The Hunter and the Mage (The Raven and the Dove #2) - Kaitlyn Davis Page 0,40

a distant look gathered in his eyes as he stared into the dark. The stern expression he usually wore had returned, as hard as the stone wall surrounding his castle, as impenetrable too. Luckily, getting past people's defenses was one of her specialties.

"That's a shame," Lyana commented softly. "Because my feathers will grow back eventually, Malek. And if we can't learn to trust each other, if you can’t learn to trust me, then I don’t see any reason to stick around once they do."

His eyes cut sharply to her. "You can't leave."

"Why?" She snorted. "Because you say?"

"No. Because the world needs you."

"Without honesty, I won’t stay."

"What about all the people you just said you want to save?"

"How can I save them if I don’t know what I'm fighting?"

"By doing what I tell you."

Lyana laughed, the barking sound escaping her lips before she could stop it. He flinched as though struck. Good. "You don't want a queen, Malek. You want another soldier in your army, someone who will listen to everything you say and blindly take orders, but if you knew me at all, you would know I'm not that person and I never will be. So you can either treat me as your equal, as the queen you say I am, or you might as well send me home now."

"Lyana—"

"Make a choice." She shrugged, her tone far lighter than her words. "According to you, the fate of the world depends on it."

He ground his teeth, the muscles in his jaw flexing, until finally he relented. "You want the truth?"

Lyana nodded.

"I think they want your god stones."

She gasped. "Why?"

"Because they're not what you think they are." He paused, gaze drifting to the sky before returning to her, the tiniest bit softer than before. "I know what the avians of your world believe, that godly hands lifted your isles into the sky, but it’s not true. The stones you all pray to hold nothing more than pure, concentrated magic. Seven stones for the seven most prominent elements—earth, air, fire, water, light, dark, and spirit—all bound together in a spell the likes of which this world has never otherwise seen, magic even I don’t understand. I believe the power in that spell is what we took from the dragons, a power they would do anything to retrieve."

"But…" Lyana's gaze darted back and forth, fixed on no point as her mind spun. She'd been in the sacred nest—she'd felt the power of Aethios, raw and potent, absolutely real. She'd seen babies venture into those holy grounds and return with wings, a gift from their gods. How could magic do that, without at least a divine hand to guide it?

"Have you ever wondered why your island sits so much higher than the rest?"

She snapped back to the present. "It wasn't my place to question Aethios's will."

"Of course not." He laughed softly, an empty puff of air, then lifted his hand, his palm facing up. "Six of the isles all hang on the same plane." He indicated his fingers, and then lifted his other hand above them, as though holding a bit of string. "Your isle, the House of Peace, creates an apex point high above the rest. But there's an eighth point you don't know about that resides at the perfect opposite of your homeland, the lowest cornerstone of the spell, buried deep beneath the sea." He arced his hand in a perfect circle, until what was above shifted below. "And in place of a god stone, there is a door. The spell holds it closed—or at least, it once did. But with every passing year, the magic weakens, and more dragons break through." He dropped his hands to examine her. "Do you remember the earthquake you experienced in the House of Whispers and how it worsened with each new wave of magic you unleashed?"

She could only nod.

"The spell exists in a careful equilibrium, and large bouts of power close to the stones disturb the balance, which in turn leaves the isles less stable. When dragons come to our world, they come in search of one thing—magic. The power calls to them, and they chase it. We're not entirely sure why, but I think it has something to do with their desire to weaken the spell until it breaks, so the door will open, giving them the opportunity to flood our world in search of what was lost."

Her mind came to a halt, focused on a single word. "Breaks?"

"And only on the day when the